all of a sudden passion suddenly

[Angeline]

warm
chest broad at 3 am
strong arms watchful
eyes everything hurts
everything is safe kiss
tears safe you said don't
ever be afraid remember
and it's true even when
the sky falls clouds part
and you still make me
smile sweet soaring
birdman

 

[annaswirls]

Angeline hugging you from here
I know
I know

I was not trying to judge the thread at all
just wanted to say

I cannot go on that thread
it feels so real
but I am ready

 

[Kundalinguini]

I only knew him through his words.
How odd a thing to say of someone.
Knowing someone through their words
can never really be past tense.

I only know Yeats through his words.
He helped me through a time so black
I never thought to see the light again.
Yet I only know him through his words.

And William Shakespeare, what of him?
I learned of love and greed and pride,
of honor, avarice and the hearts of men,
and yet I only know him through his words.

And all those Masters: Buddha, Krishna, Christ
Mohammed, all the other souls now past
who daily touch our lives in oh so many ways.
And yet we only know them through their words.

And simpler, what of Sarah's songs
with words that helped me fall in love?
I thought was. I might have never known.
Yet I still only know her through her songs.

If knowing someone through their words
is only that, then all of us should hope
that someday, somewhere, someone says of us
I only knew him through his words.

 

[tarablackwood22]

goodbye......

eyes rush up
meet the morning mist
for you
that slow leakage of a sorrow
never sealed

who cries
the water of repentance
wets the hair of early lovers
sends forgiveness prayers
back through the leaves

for you
i drip and tremble

today
i am yours
as is this cleansing rain
washing spotted sidewalks
and souls

 

[Maria2394]

all of a sudden, passion suddenly

this is how I will remember
You, all of a sudden, passionately
and suddenly, you aren't anywhere
I will ever go in this life
but you are near enough to know
and here we are, all mourning
your passing when we should rejoice
in your words, your passion and how
you lived, so suddenly, thrust into the world
did you kick? did you scream?
did you have infant pen and paper handy
from inside your mothers womb?

You were born a writer
all of a sudden, the passion that you are
still exists, we are here with you
on your thread, this sudden thing we call death
just happens like birth, only this is a different thing
still sudden, and with passion on this end only

NO Edits, NO rewrites, it happens, like life
live it, love it, say goodbye
and remember what was good
what made us human and what made us love
His passion is here, unedited, undefiled
and worthy of us all


see ya later, you flirt

 

[Syndra Lynn]

write it out

I can’t breathe
for weight of sadness
built with my own mind

expectations floundered
expectations
what made me think
I deserved anything?
let alone best?

reason exists
though unknown
it doesn’t help
ease my mind
my aching heart

a small victory:
I let myself feel it

 

[Syndra Lynn]

Path from Sadness

for Tim and Jer

hammer falls
I take the blow
start to crumble
beneath the load

tears, self pity
swallow me
I see the surface
beyond my reach

was a time
I’d suffer silently
but with gun shy voice
I softly plea

suddenly lifting me
you are here
transforming
the image in my mirror

trace of smile
confidence revives
you show me the depth
encourage new heights

across the miles
love calls to me
a beacon
to my sanity

 

[Liar]

central station rush hour
beating a path with purposeful steps
an icebreaker carving through
Johns Jims Joes Jennifers Janices
like a blowtorch though butter
all grey brown beige
as if fashion took a season
to heal

it is not that I stare
menacing, dangerous
but my face
elewhere now
blank, unfocused
lets them know
what I myself don't

that if they stand in my path
I would trample them down
and then turn
and apologise

that is,
if the commotion
could wake me up
enough to surface
from my inner sea

 

[Angeline]

Twilight shadowing west,
even the willow looks tired.
I've mellowed to a calmer state,
teeter tottering to acceptance.

You smile,
I'm up tilted
over the playground,
swinging toward freedom
from those depths. A minute
shifts the world, word, face
turns on the other side of real

and bumps dirt, stones again,
like a sliding board with rust
you won't slip straight through,
but scratch down partway,

or you go around, around.
Someone spins the wheel,
crazy running, the sky twists
into kaleidascope shards.
Dizzy. You want to oh just
jump off, catch bearings.

Some kids can go straight
across the monkey bars,
hand to hand in smooth
self-propelled ride settling
feet first creeping into evening.

Luna smiles like your mom,
who calls, you come Schwinning
home to dinner, bath, bed, story,
kiss a safe goodnight.

Did you ever wish
to close your eyes
and wake up 8
one more day?

 

[The_Fool]

silhouetted by a flash of lightning
head bent down
beaten by the rain
streaming down my face
salty rain
no time for pleas
or please
words are meaningless
or have no meaning
abstract thought
shattered by thoughtlessness
cold outside
cold inside
no warmth
no fire
no passion
just rain
monotone rain

 

[The_Fool]

words spill across the page
without passing on the time of day
jumbled in my thoughts
coherent only at the edge
tangible dreams that are seen
only out of the corner of the eye
I cannot see them
since I am blind
to mirrored thoughts
springing full born to life on my page
having been there before
and not liking the view
feeling foolish
at thinking someone might listen
to rambled words
words spilled across the page

 

[champagne1982]

Amongst the agony there is a place,
That sets the shadows free,
Twilight mellows the harsh lines of light,
And blurs the edge of destiny.
You've gone so far to have come
This monstrous thing to bear,
The endings of beginnings
The next doorways to nowhere.
A simple man would have stayed away,
Far from this frightening face
But death's mask is also peace
When looked on from a higher place
And sorrow marks a setting free
Of a soul that flies majestically.

 

[Maria2394]

burden the hand

mo merry widows here, not now
blessed are tears that refuse to know
quiet sorrow

unburden your soul, little one
nudge your loss towards a straighter path
to willing martyr hand outstretched
yearning to devour your pain

push through walls of winds and borrow
strength you knew through him
and write your joy in song and poem

burden your hand,
weary with grief and heavy with pen
spill words deep, Dear Jenn
spill words deep

 

[Liar]

things
meant something different back then

they were really crabs
and we really caught them

on strings
raw prawns and stones in one end
silly glee anicipation in the other

you and me equal
braids and tangled salty
summer cut

lying on bare thighs and arms
and hiked up tee
on sun heated pontoons

down below
almost too saturated to be true
the bottom rippled through
a stirred surface

i knew you were beautiful
and magic was ours
and everyting would be all right
right then
forever

fast forward
a decade rolled by
braids let out to summer flow
lying on bare thighs and arms
and accidentally hiked up dress
on the same sun heated pontoons

i know you are beautiful
but tears, wine and cum stains
and trying to stain
the too saturted crab kingdom below
with whatever you can hurl up
makes is hard to see

too drunk to find "I'm sorry"
but not too drunk to know
I lay down beside
lifts your hair out of the sea

then suddenly
with sun and water dancing
like northern light on teary cheeks
everything rewinds
a decade again

magic is ours
and everyting will be all right
right now
forever
for a second

we share a smile
before you finally succeed
to stain the magic kindgom

don't worry
the crabs are too far down
and it will wash away

tomorrow
we will be children
bathe off all stains
and come back again
with tees and stones
and prawns on string
for a while
right then
forever

 

[Angeline]

There was some poem
where that great arbiter
of all Ted Berrigan said
the hardest part to accept
is moving someone from the
real world to your internal life

you can only touch illusion
then inflame him with the breath
of what you remember
or imagine

like a character in a play
dramatize it doesn't even
have to hurt you can drop
god down from the sky
deau ex machina
and make everything ok
over and over again

or at least until morning
breaks the confection
of wishing you write
another poem and think
it's out of my system but

it never is I'm choking still
on 30 year old grief
that wants to sit in my throat
forever whispering to me
in repeating monologue
like a stubborn actor
that won't leave
the stage

 

[Liar]

tentative tribute

wait,
bear with this
what I'm trying to say
is 'how do I pray,
praise and/or ponder
cold crass content
both sealing and singing
of wonder'

through a slipsteam
to digital ink stains,
sunspots on a screen
spelling out trains
of thought

it was thought once
maybe twice even
by real flesh and bones
piling sticks and stones
into monuments and words

so please,
what I'm trying to say
is 'where is the image
through a layer of clay
bringing me equally closer
and farther away
from breath and bones,
voice and face play'

keep wishing,
keep stinging this day,
I'd known something more
than a hotline,
finger to eye
as good as it gets
maybe even more
but still hollow
without core.

 

[My Erotic Tail]

Like a Storm that rolls in,
I feel the Thunder roll,
Wind and Rain make a blend,
the lightenings flashing glow.

The Mind is like a shower,
of pelting drops of rain.
I feel the storm has power,
My mind has to regain.

Thunders crash and rumble,
makes me concentrate.
On the things around me,
and how a storm is great.

 

[Angeline]

Figaro Snoozed

Holy source of my desires
laments the afternoon,
which proceeds in patches.
Heat sluggish air barely
fan-shifted, breath drawn
in sleepy-sweet alarums.

Cherubino, having known
desires of the heart, flees
cool through to blue open
window. Susannah bound
to the nutshell closet hides,
hung between love, fear.

The Count's bufoonery
is treacherous, recounted
note by note as you snore,
turn arched for scratch,
lamenting the heat.
These women cry passion.

Betrayal red as sirens run
rivulets between layers
of patriarchy. Oppressed
by subterfuge they navigate
like larks trilling in a forest
marked with terratorial clues.

Oh treachery of men! Holy
source of my desires you
smile in your sleep, roll
toward the fan. I breathe
lament the dead-weighted
obstacle of your leg on mine.

 

[Angeline]

The plink of raindrops drip upon the roof,
corrugated tin shines in washed moonlight,
as if the falling darkness needed proof
of seasons measured turning dark to bright
while Mozart's Divertimento sings soft,
hums through evening new as lullabies
to dark shapes of books and your face aloft
murmurs mouth whispers to lips, lashes, eyes
closed caught or lost in drifts of rain or skin,
tender pressed in prelude to building thrash
as limbs collide like worlds heated within
the spark of lightning and the thunder’s crash.
Then storm’s allayed in black blanketed deep.
The music plays and voices fade to sleep.

 

[Liar]

Re: Re: what I get from this

If you mean focus of subject, look at the poetry written for challenges or individual's submissions on their pages. This thread is more a catch-all for whatever poetry spills out spontaneously.

spontaneous spills
dribbled from quill
stains the surface
to maybe fulfill

intention amok
a notion set free
all of a sudden
passion suddenly

 

[Maria2394]

child poet., poet child

why cant i seem to grow up
and write profound verse
tributes to poets
i ve never heard of
memories of yellow, and buttercups
dancing with jazzmen
and gawking at clownish strangers
better them than me
better even, you than me

I like being perpetual
i like being me
until someone like you comes along
intent to remind
that while it gets me by, it gets me through
its
just
not
quite
good
enough

why cant i grow up
and away from the pond
towards a bigger me-
one that can see tomorrow

 

[Linbido]

child poet., poet child

why cant i seem to grow up
and write profound verse
tributes to poets
i ve never heard of
memories of yellow, and buttercups
dancing with jazzmen
and gawking at clownish strangers
better them than me
better even, you than me

I like being perpetual
i like being me
until someone like you comes along
intent to remind
that while it gets me by, it gets me through
its
just
not
quite
good
enough

why cant i grow up
and away from the pond
towards a bigger me-
one that can see tomorrow

sister silly
lets wallow together
ungrown, unrefined
through the pond
and plant new lilies
as we go

because
unliterary me
follow with frustration
the namedropping sensation
of Wolff, Plath, Kerouac
just names on a screen
that means just as little to me
as infinity to infants
and with my silly glee
I giggle
clap my hands
and nods faux knowingly
knowing I will never see
what they see
probably

but I am me
and here is a universe
stacked with all
that shaped these words
and I know
I'd better keep it in
than call it out
because my jazz
would sing an alien tune
rewarded by the same
faux nods, giggles, claps
and an ever so charming
blank stare

noone would know my Monk
my Bird, my Dylan, Lennon, Morrison
is not on the map
Leeson, Archer, Gold, Ramsby
any bells? no. see?

a handicap? maybe
but mine to sherish
and grow with

come, sister
play in the pond
of poet childs
with me

 

[eagleyez]

brilliant gem
mixed in the buttercup field
under anglehair-
the dangling willow skirt
sways
like
emerald hips
throwing
shade and walking away
with a turn-

wildweed
and thisles,
surprise Rugosa Rose-

pale lavender, a
stubborn perrenial,
a memory whisper
beneath careful feet
padding the floor with
plodding steps,
a season seems new
but its ancient to me now.

 

[Liar]

a word
started this poem
the word was 'a'
or actually 'word'
as I added the 'a'
before comitting
thought to typing fingers

still it plods along
going nowhere fast
self fulfilling nonsens
filling time with floating flunk
not quite worth the weight of bytes

and suddenly I realise
that every keystroke here
is a nanoelectronic charge
straining the powergrid
ever so slightly

yup, here I sit
wasting nuclear rods
and burning coal
a little bit

 

[Angeline]

Old berkies
paint stained and socks
slip off your ankles
big big hands dwarf mine
get lost in yours
like a small leaf on a steady branch
but hold that guitar strumming
delicate notes so warm
underscored by that funny
sidewise grin sing
I gotta go back to sleep
for a while
and laugh and put it down
and laugh
and sleep