Archival Review

[LeBroz]

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On bended knee, pucker up and pay homage in hopes of getting a better deal. And starting tomorrow we'll enjoy an odd five-part series from the mind of hippiedude.


Dream Eating Ass
by sandspike©


princely chair
massages pompous ass,
abusive lips
free flowing bull shit,
accompanied by accusing finger,


good boys arrive daily,
lined up before the throne
puckering before the ass,
inflating it's pretentious ego


basking in its own reflextion
the tall brain nibbles,
swallowing my last defense
delinquent dreams of an aging mind


my wick's end flickers
without hope of escape,
Monday's oxygen blown away
puff of smoke....dreams extinguished


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[LeBroz]

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Now here's an odd little series with dialect not usually encountered — bland it ain't.


End Of Miss Whachyadoo
by hippiedude©


here she come now
miss whadchyadoo
gots no answers
sure ‘nough got big
ass eye brows always
raised and her standing
there looking at ya
like you better jump
now sucker like maybe
your head fall off cause
she done smacked it
down or somethin’

I gots nothin’ to say
to her no how she
gots no claim on me
not for no five dollar
an hour she don’t that’s
what I say jes like what
Lonnie done told me
no sir she don’t got no
reason to jump off
on me like she do

maybe I come back here
some night after quitin’ time
she be lockin up all by her
own self an’ I know what
she do all that money she
been handlin all day stuffin
in that metal box a’right
I know ‘bout all that now
cause Lonnie he done told me
even showed me where miss big eyes
takes it down there to that bank
round the corner of the street

that’s right miss beatyoass I
know what you do an’ one
day I might jes come ‘round
take care some things
like what Lonnie say
I should be doin’ an
then you sure ‘nough
have somthin’ raise
them eye brows over

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[LeBroz]

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Gives a feel of the gritty city life washed on down with a buck fifty coke there by the whore house.


dream in St. Paul, MN
by 2rivers©


-April 3, 04-

storm behind stones
horizon falling fast
running backwards

halls narrow
shoulders rub
ears burn, smell rubber

the penalty for love
never skinned knee
nor two, lose of limb

grin for the undertaker
his lean daughter
her pleasant pie eating mother

jingle, jingle aborted
shard of parking lot mercury vapors
graze our flattened faces

us in two places
us of turtles
me are you and you are me

upstairs copulation
noisy floors
could of done better

buck fifty coke classic
across whore hall
bills slip in easy, 4 bits as easy

off the bus route
gawk at the pickets
howl at sympathy

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[LeBroz]

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Getting an early start today with this second in the dude's five-part series. Such a very rural Southern feel to it.


Stick To Killin' Folks You Knows
by hippiedude©


Lonnie say the sheriff
ain’t got no reason be
lookin’ at me ‘cause
I ain’t got no record
and all ‘sides most folk
figures I ain’t got ‘nough
smarts even come up with
such a plan as to steal somethin’
least not somethin’ big like
the cash box from over there
at the Smokin’ Pig Hip Grill
like alls I ever thinks ‘bout
is them damn dirty dishes but
theys wrong cause I thinks
‘bout lots a stuff an’ when
them deputies come ‘round
here sniffin’ ‘round like they
was somebody’s hound dog
lookin’ for some bitch in heat
I acted jes like I knowed I was
s’posed to be actin’ when
important folk comes ‘round
sayin’ them words like yessir
nosir and smilin’ real big like

an’ Lonnie he say they gonna
poke ‘round here one maybe
two days an’ then they be gone
somewhere else see some other
crime scene an’ by then ol’
miss eye brows done be floated
over to the next county an’
maybe she be all the way
to the gulf ‘fore somebody
sees her bloated body
bobbin’ out there in the
water like some kind of
big ol’ whale or somthin’
maybe gots some kind a
sea gull sittin’ on top of her
like he done found himself
some kind a home or somethin’
only she prob’bly roll over
an’ scare him a way with
that ugly face she gots or
he prob’ly take one look
at them eye brows
them ugly ass mean ol’
eye brows of hers and
he be flyin’ way quick
‘nough I reckon but
don’t matter none to me
‘cause she ain’t comin’
back here that’s all I know

Lonnie say we be a’right
after ever’thing calms down
we jes gos down to the river
an’ digs up that box an’
‘for long we be livin’ high
on the hog over there in
Polk county where folks
don’t know us an’ don’t care
who we are what we been doin’
‘cause they gots their own lives
to worry over an’ I don’t know
maybe they even gots there own
miss whadchyadoo over there but
ain’t no matter to me ‘cause
I gots what I need

‘sides that Lonnie says there
be some folks over there
in Polk county who wants
help gettin’ rid a some
trouble makers or somthin’
like that an’ maybe they be
willing to pay good money
to folks like me an’ him cause
we knows how to be handlin’
them kinds a things but I
don’t know if I wants to be
doin’ any more of that
not to some stranger that
ain’t never done nothin’
makes you mad an’ all
cause seems like you jes
got to stick to killin’ folks
you knows thats all

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[LeBroz]

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Yes indeed, do let good times roll!


dream is path
by smithpeter©


dream is path
through grain ocean
through beast moraine

a discussion of spirit ensues
about too big words for me,
ulali and pretence

ongway,
a segue to oneness
choral downbeat

owls, more owls
send me sleep,
father duties persist

lover waits in meadow
she spins paint and soil
she empowers surround

our unacquainted fathers
now watch movement
slow to them

II

four legs long
is our pressing
two chests
four nipples conniving,
conversing tits wanting time alone
while lips murmur in ignorance
of the private parts party plans,
hope and mystery
purple and red
blue and union
onion lèche bunion
Laissez Bon Temps Roulet

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[LeBroz]

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You just know this was coming. Now how's he gonna get out from this mess...


End Of Miss Whadchyadoo Part 3
by hippiedude©


Lonnie’s eyes was big
big as that spooky ol’
moon shinin’ through
them bare trees that night
they’s big as them eyes on
miss big eyes herself but his
eyes look big in a gooder
sort a way ain’t like hers is
mean an’ all hurtful like she
gonna set yo ass on fire
with them eyes they sho
‘nough gots big when Lonnie
drags her ass into that car an’ me
sittin’ besides her tryin’ look
mean too but I ain’t gots the
killer look says Lonnie so I
mostly try watchin’ the road

Lonnie now he real good
lookin’ an’ talkin’ mean
an’ he done told me he do
alls the talkin’ once we gets
her in the car ‘cept I don’t
think he know so much ‘bout
drivin’ no car drivin’ all crazy
like he can’ts keep it goin’
straight or somethin’ I think
miss big eyes think that too
‘cause her eyes ‘bout come
poppin’ out couple times
‘fore we makes it out to
8 mile bridge south a town
where Lonnie stops the car
real quick like an’ he jumps
out starts yellin’ real mean
get out the damn car woman
get yo ugly ass out the car
scarred me real bad ‘cause
I thought he’s yellin’ at me

when I opens the door miss
big eyes pushes me out the way
starts runnin’ like a spooked
mule screamin’ with that
real high voice of hers makes
people mad all the times
hadn’ t been for that things
might been dif’rent cause that
screamin’ somethin’ Lonnie
can’t stands no how not sense
he gots back from fightin’
most folks knows not to
provoke him like that
‘cept miss whadchyadoo
she don’t know nothin’ ‘bout
nobody but her own self

he takes care her I reckon
cause all I knows two a
them goes runnin’ to the
woods an’ Lonnie he comes
back by himself sayin’ we
gots to haul her back up
the road so we can dump
her in the river then bury
that money box ‘side the
road where ain’t nobody
gonna think to be lookin’
for it ‘cause he done already
give it lots a thought how
to get away with stealin’
that money ‘cept I think
we wasn’t suppose to be
killin’ nobody an all we
jes wanted the money but
turns out that miss big eyes
gots a big screamin’ mouth
an’ like Lonnie done said
she oughts to know not to
do no screamin’ like that
‘round a man jes gots
back from fightin’ no how

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[LeBroz]

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A rather seductive fantasy read. See if this one pulls you in as it did me.


Dreamcatcher
by Krenna Smart©


Last night I lay me down to slumber
but like a thwarted lover
sleep evaded me

I tossed and turned
and threw my cover

Thus unencumbered
I waited for the knell

of the mantle chime to caste its spell
The clock was ticking loud

A shadow passed by a cloud

And then upon my balcony
Singing a faint melody
Appeared a man of fantasy

He lightly touched my brow

With him came my dear old friend
The sandman; Knave of night
Who came to give me blessed sleep
to last ‘til morning light

The stranger by the sandman’s side
had moonlight in his hair
His eyes were blue like sapphire stars
His face was wondrous fair

Between his hands he wove a web
of spider’s silk so fine

Decked with jewels
A galaxy
The Northern lights entwined

“Who is this man of mystery”?

The Sandman answered clear
“I bring to you ‘the dream catcher’.
A friend I hold most dear”

“The dreams I bring where’re I roam
I carry on my back
And when I land to pay a call
they scatter from my sack”
“Dreams you have in plenty”
I heard the Catcher say
"Its my task to gather up
the dreams that go astray

"Some dreams linger through the day
Some dreams travel on
Some seem to vanish into air
When they end they’re gone

"Many fleeting dreams I capture
in my silken net
Some are dreams you’ve dreamed before
Some haven’t happened yet”

Entranced I was
by this vision master
Securely in his thrall
Like a dream spun in his web
Caught by his siren call

But the night was waning fast
Aurora’s trumpet sounded
And from my bed into the stars
My Dream Catcher neatly bounded

“I’ll come to you again my love”
He whispered ‘ere he fled
But my visage will have changed
When next I’m by your bed

I’ll gather you on my pale horse
when its your time to go
For what is life but dreams and mist
An illusive magic show"


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[LeBroz]

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Despite the dude's disclaimer, this isn't the end of the series, as he later wrote another installment. I'd only read the first two installments in the series when I decided to add this series here, so I read this through this morning for the first time with some morbid fascination. When you read it, you'll understand that with friends like this...


Don't Looks Like No Killer Hands***
by hippiedude©



(The End of Miss Whadchyadoo part 4)


don’t know why but I
can’t ‘member doin’ it
Lonnie he done told me an’
he’s smart ‘nough to know
‘cause he been to school an’
been in the army an’ he learned
alls ‘bout killin’ people an’ all
‘sides it don’t matter none to me
alls I know is now my life is
free from miss ibewatchinyoass
an’ those great big eye brows
pokin’ up in the middle of her
head lookin’ like she done
put them on there with paint
or somethin’ crazy like that

Lonnie say you ain’t s’pose to
‘member killin’ nobody anyways
normal folk don’t recalls it when
it happens he say an’ maybe he
kill ‘bout twenty or ten people over
there fightin’ for his country an’
he don’t ‘member any of them now
like he done told me I should be
glad ‘bout not knowin’ all them
awful details of how it happened
that night but I jes keeps lookin’
down at my hands an’ be thinkin’
they don’t looks like killer hands
an’ like Lonnie say I ain’t got no
killer eyes but Lonnie he sho do
I seen ‘em that night he be yellin’
at miss raisedemeyebrows
tellin’ her get out the car an’ actin’
all fierce like I ain’t never seen him be

that’s ‘bout all I recall ‘cept hearin’
water splash an’ me standin’ there
‘side Lonnie lookin’ at the river
down there in the dark an’ thats when
I first seen that blood on Lonnie’s hands
all dark looking an’ I sho ‘nough ain’t
understandin’ why he puts them on me
like he gonna get that blood off his hands
by wipin’ it on my shirt but Lonnie he
say they was blood on my shirt ‘fore
he done it an’ then he tells me I gots
to drop my shirt to the river
I didn’t wants to but Lonnie he
made me ‘fraid sheriff be lockin’
me in jail if he be findin’ me wearin’
ol’ bloody shirt ‘rounds town

I likes that shirt cause it gots my name
‘cross the pocket and it gots that
funny lookin’ pig look jes like that
sign out front the Smokin’ Pig Hip Grill
I knowed Lonnie was right so I takes it
off real slow and I turns ‘round cause
I don’t want him see me crin’ an’ all
but likes Lonnie say I be buyin’ lots
a shirts after we gets that money out
a that there box an’ high tails it over to
Polk county an’ all those folks be askin’
us to be doin’ them favors and handlin’
trouble makers in they lives jes like we
takes care of ol’ miss whadchyadoo
I don’t know ‘bout doin’ that now
‘cause I keeps lookin’ down there
at my hands an’ thinkin’ they don’t
looks like no killer hands no how

*** This is the last posting of this series under poetry category. Thank you for reading and commenting. I really appreciate the feedback.

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[LeBroz]

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Here you go — dream a little dream with attitude.


dreamer
by catastrophe©


dreamer
just a dreamer
a rebel rousing making messes
dreamer

the
nonconformist in the corner
nontraditional nonstandard nonconformist
not included in original model
never getting married questions your authority
dreamer
with pink striped hair and piercings whose attitude problem
has a problem with
your attitude.

dreamer
imagination set on ideal
while yours is tailored to typical
creating conflicts not cause I can
but cause someone has to

question
question society
norms standards and the
status quo

society
stuck on stupid
so say I’m stuck on dreamer
if you must
but I’m charged for change
manufacturing those dreams
for your reality.

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[LeBroz]

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I'm sure you've noticed by now that our hero's not the brightest bulb in the house, but he sure does notice everyone else's foul deeds. BTW, I checked with the dude before running the series to be sure I had it all and in the right order and rest assured that it is correct. This is in fact the fifth and final installment in the series. Why the 6? Guess the 'puter done it.


The End Of Miss Whadjadoo Part 6
by hippiedude©


I ain’t proud of what we done
but I ain’t sorry for it neither
and like Lonnie says it was
just a matter of time ‘fore
somebody was goin’ to come along
and knock miss eyebrow in the head

The things she done was wrong anyways
always laughin’ and shakin’ them
bony fingers in my face
callin’ me names and treatin’ me
like I ain’t got no feelin’s
when I be down there
at the Pig Hip Grill every day
from early in the mornin’
workin’ hard as I can
she be comin’ in there
shakin’ her finger at me
raisin’ them eye brows
laughin’ at me and talkin’ bad
about me to everyone else
like I ain’t even in the room
callin’ me fool and nothin’ head
tellin’ people that I ain’t got no sense
always actin’ mad like I done somethin’ wrong

She’s the one that done somethin’ wrong
stickin’ dollars in her shirt and
hidin’ them under her dress and all
raisin’ them ugly eye brows at me
like thats gonna keep me from tellin’
and then always actin’ like I ain’t
smart enough to know what she’s doin’
always tellin’ everybody around
that I be too stupid and too lazy
to be any good for nothin’

But Lonnie says I be good at lots of stuff and
he says I might could go over there to Polk County
and get me a real good job someday
wearin’ one of them fancy suits
carryin’ my leather briefcase
drivin’ around in some fancy car
walkin’ in to places like the Pig Hip Grill
tellin’ people what they need to be doin’
‘cept I be sayin’ it all real nice like
‘cause like Lonnie says you don’t
need to be treatin’ people like
they was a piece of dirt or somethin’

But that’s somethin’ miss whadjadoo
don’t know nothin’ about no how
not around me she don’t but I don’t
guess that matters now and besides
who’s the stupid fool now ‘cause
it ain’t my bloated body thats floatin’
down the river bangin’ up against the rocks
probably got some big old catfish
eatin’ on her ‘cept he be spittin’
it all out back out and he’d probably
be jumpin’ right out of the water
tryin’ to get away from her
and she’s probably raisin’
them ugly eyebrows out there
in the water makin’ all the fish sick
that are livin’ in there causin’ them to be
jumpin’ around tryin’ to get away

Maybe it ain’t right leavin’ her dead body
in the water like that but like Lonnie said
ain’t no use in drownin’ tryin’ to save
a dead woman no how besides that
we had to be buryin’ that money box
‘fore someone else happened along
‘cause then we’d be havin’ to deal
with them the way we had to deal with her
and whoever it was that might come by
wouldn’t be deservin’ to die like she was
‘cause they wouldn’t be stealin’ money
from the Pig Hip Grill like she was
and they wouldn’t be callin’ people fools
shakin’ their fingers in peoples faces
and raisin’ their eye brows actin’ like
they was better than everybody else
and they wouldn’t be dying like here either
‘cause Lonnie says most dyin’ people don’t
start screamin’ and runnin’ around like miss whadjadoo
but most folks die more quiet and peaceful like they was goin’ to sleep

I think that’s right ‘cause the only other dyin’ person
that I ever seen was my uncle he was so quiet that
I didn’t even know he was dyin’ till everybody
standin’ around him started cryin’ out there
in the back yard after he fell off the roof
and then my mom was runnin’ out of the house
screamin’ and cryin’ all crazy like and yellin’
at us kids to get away from him

But my uncle wasn’t screamin’
and the only thing runnin’ on him
was a river of blood that was runnin’
out of the hole in the top of his head
and then my mom bent down
and kissed him on the mouth
gettin’ his blood all over her face
but I don’t know if maybe they
should have put my uncle in the river
‘cause I seen him do some wrong things
like what miss whadjadoo done and maybe
he even done some things that were worse
than what she did always comin’ in the house
late at night wakin’ people up makin’ people cry
touchin’ things that ain’t his to touch tellin’ us kids
that we had to keep secrets or else

Then one day he just fell off the roof and I just stood there
lookin’ at his bloody face but I wasn’t cryin’ or nothin’
like my mom and her friends was cryin’ and
my brother wasn’t cryin’ neither but he was
standin’ up there on the top of the roof
holdin’ his hammer in his hand

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[LeBroz]

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Here's a poet we've not heard from in a little bit. Feel yourself getting pulled into the dream; you can then sense the feeling of comforting arms on awakening from the dream.


Dreaming Of Sargasso
by Randi Grail©


It was not illusion
that brought this down around our heads,
A necklace of remorse. Beads bright,
but cold to touch.

I lost the wave, the bearing,
and caught by doldrum, drifted.

Still, as ideas of ideas,
shapes and motion, whispers and whale song,
shifted into focus and blurred again,

I lay, eyes closed, carried by sargasso
while spires and domes and ancient ghosts
shadowed below, Atlantis dreaming ascension,
drifted.

Solitude echoed sonar whispers,
a tectonic sigh to swallow it all.

I forgot to breathe,
remembered to love,
and woke up on an inhale
in tears.

"Ssh" I heard and felt
fingertips on my spine, lips on my shoulder
embrace enclosed around to place a palm
upon my heart.

"You were dreaming" I heard
and careful arms suggested gravity.
I fell back, surrendered to assurance
that no illusion did this,
neither hurt nor healing,

and that my necklace
was long since cast aside.

I dreamt of sargasso,
but not of Atlantis
this time.

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[LeBroz]

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Goimg through all so many poems with this same title, I found they all started to sound the same. When I came to this one, I'd forgotten I'd read it once before, but my reaction was the same now as then — when I got to the end I found I wanted to read it again in light of the way it finishes.


Dreams
by RhymeFairy©


You are the light, that leads me
through the dense darkness, into
life's joyous journey, of comical
Jack-in-the-box dreams.

What once, we dreamed for me,
has come ... gone. No longer
to be. Yet, you always shared
this journey with me.

Whispering words of kindness,
collecting cracker jack dreams,
to have another day. Rings of joy,
transferred, from you ... to me.

Always with a loving smile,
you lead, guidance of sincere
friendship. Harmonious love
that completes me, with just
a smile, a look, just ... you.

New dreams shared, many a
longing, I have expressed.
You uplifted that dream with
the utmost care. Taking it
to heart, valued and
treasured, as you do
everything I wish, want.

Never could anyone love me,
as you do. Never shall I love
the same. I want to be you,
one day.

A mother who loves. Always
loves, without question,
deception, greed, who
always helps lead.

My love, forever more, to you.
My mother, my one truest love.
My mom ~

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[LeBroz]

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After reading the previous poem, and in view of the sad state of the other many 'dreams' poems, I was surprised to find this one also standing out amidst the desolate landscape. Not only does it seem so much better than all those other dream poems, but it doesn't have a comment or even a single vote. So here's an opportunity to visit it again for the first time.


dreams
by laelia©


a spoon-curved back
next to faraway ghost
three heavy old quilts
can’t warm what hurts most

sweet sad sandman songs
sparkling gold dust dreams
fine silver threads
mend torn heart seams

morning mourning glory
what a heartbreaking blue
two orchid blooms are smiling
softly nod to me and you

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[LeBroz]

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Today's the sort of day here that seems to match the mood of this poem. The clouds are depressingly gray, low, and dripping a very cold rain. At least that type mood should be broken by a nice hot turkey.


Dreck
by RazzRajen©


clouds scudding
...............clouds lowering
..............................clouds hovering
I look at them and laugh
so happy so carefree

My love is a cloud,
a will-o'wisp
...............a tendril
..............................a thought

gossamer and ephemeral

vanishing as the ripples across a quiet pond

what is beneath the surface
..............................what is roiling under

turbulence
...............and terminal decay
the sludge carries His mind away,

that dreg
and oft the dreck

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[LeBroz]

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Seems a fitting piece for the day after Thanksgiving; has a retrospective/introspective feel about it.


Drift Each Day Away From Shore
by hippiedude©


I was not surprised by the thought of you;
looking at yourself
in the mirror this morning;
reflecting on your days
like seashells discovered;
placed as relics on the shelf.

But I was surprised—
Were you not conscious of the surge:
The Ebb and Flow;
The Apogee;
The Perigee of Life?

Did you not notice Reality’s swell;
like the oscillating atoms,
in the spectral sample of news,
gathered from the farthest point
of the Heavens;
the incredibly minute impulse,
flashing as an image across your mind—
like the involuntary command to
contract—expand
inhale—exhale
Hope Eternal—
Die?

Why?
Could you not discern the promise;
though Darkness looms;
Dawn breaks brighter still?

I am surprised to realize,
that healing is to watch you rise;
and fall;
and drift each day away from shore.


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[LeBroz]

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Such warm fantasy to counteract the cold reality of snow on the ground and a life-numbing wind.


Drifted Debris
by wildsweetone©


Come and get it baby,
soak my soul with sweet scent
as you cleanse the world.
Re-create my world
with your lust,
launch waves
upon the shore
where the last barriers
will crash and mingle
among drifted debris. Drag
the wreckage away
and leave white sands
where rain will wash
those sordid tomes
and we will lay
upon the earth
with only fingertips to touch
until night falls
and our wanton ways
weave moonlit trails
from beach to cave
where rains will reach
no more.

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[LeBroz]

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This one's filled with so many possibilities — where he came from, what he's done, where's he going, and why. Just delicious creativity.


Drifter
by hippiedude©


He stood alone beside
the flashing neon sign
that splashed beer blue
comfort across his face.

Resonant pulse of bass
behind painted windows,
shook the nicotine in his chest
and the memory of that first dance.

Thinking that she deserved
everything to end this way,
he turned and walked alone
toward the railroad depot.

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[LeBroz]

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This has that feel of that place between sleep and wakefulness.


Drifting
by RazzRajen©


~Wisps of song drifting
on the wind,
faraway places did I come
from.
What brought Us together
at the time of night?

who would know that
the future unfolds
as a mere grain of sand:
caught in a show,
a sandal
slowed the walk,
and in the reckless dash of life
did I move to the vortex.

do hops climb
and love soar?
does a song slither into the senses
strumming the veins and blood
quickening.

I say enough,
Stop
and all sound ceases

save, the doe
comes to the clearing.
wanting and waiting,
ready to fly,
then turns into myst
shapeless and soft

enshrouding all in her lovely form ~

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[LeBroz]

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Here's a piece sure to bring a little smile on this Sunday morning, with its offering of a dose of alliteration.


drifting
by impressive©


captivatingly cruel
she draws my eye
frigid yet frail

sun-drenched distraction
oblivious to her
blinding beauty

perilously pristine
peppermint pane-cicles
drip drop from frozen lips

crystal blood
from an icy heart
on ivory eaves

so like my hope
melting in the winter
of passion's promise

~ ~ ~​

[Finalist in the 1st (Unofficial) Monthly Poetry Contest as outlined on the Poetry Feedback & Discussion forum – the challenge being to "[W]rite a poem with a winter theme and find a way of working the view from your window into it." See https://forum.literotica.com/showthread.php?s=&threadid=309230 for details.]

~ ~ ~​

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[LeBroz]

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Okay, just look at that reversal of descriptions in the first two lines — it's a keeper.


Drifting Sands
by RazzRajen©


~Shimmering sands,
drifts of air.
the desert is crossed
and angel's there.

I come from the North
all cold and frosty.
Unheal My mind, take My soul
Nurture it
like a fragile glass.

when the fires of your
eyes burn for others,
will you spare a thought
for One you hold.

that ball of earth
pressed hard in your hands
Open
and see where you have
Taken Me ~

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[LeBroz]

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Outhouse reading material — what happens when a vital page turns up missing?


drilling a 1/4" hole
by smithpeter©


through the center of the Earth
is not practical,
not at an angle either from Florida to Louisiana
or Sweden to Wisconsin

perhaps through that corner of a book
best left hanging in an outhouse,
a novel about that mysterious detective
whose name always escapes


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[LeBroz]

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Going too fast for you to latch onto the draft.


Drive
by DeepAsleep©


The man taught me
how to drive,
not just push pedals,
turn wheels.

Racing in traffic
windows rolled up
stereo off
outrunning the self
with no distractions.

"Seatbelt's not gonna
save you at
this speed,
dude."

Taught me how to need
that speed,
eat RPMs and
breathe out
forgetful exhaust.

Every mile per hour
is a drug that you
get used to
until the world
don't look right
unless it's a
ninety em-pee-aitch
fly-by.
Then it's one-twenty,
and other drivers
got no faces.

The tao of speed
eastern flavored
zoom
pocket philosophy
spoken by
tires on pavement
quick-shifting,
sound of boots
on pedals.

Concentration and
smooth-fast looks
over the shoulder.
Ideological blind-
spots can't be
checked.

The only mistake
is not knowing
where you'll be
before you get
there,
and not having
the balls to
sieze needed
opportunity.

Yet,

there's a danger
in racing
when no-one
else knows it's
a race.

On crowded highways,
accidents
happen.

The man taught me
how to drive,
not to believe
what I heard,
or
half of what I saw.

You can't have
friends
in a race
because someone,
inevitably,
has to
lose.


~~~For Laken,
If emotions raced,
I'd win,
and you wouldn't
understand
why.

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[LeBroz]

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Here we go again, out for a shorter drive this time. And here I thought it was just women that had this effect on men.


Drive
by Curiouswife©


He’s taking me for a ride
with the words from his lips
that split my head
and ache my thoughts
until I’m not sure
if I should be here
or out on the curb
watching him drive on by

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[LeBroz]

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Heed this call to free your Peter Pan.


Drop The Rake
by Belegon©


The autumn wind
swirls up a drifting-down
of red and brown and gold,
and I let go
of my dignified years.
To laugh,
chase,
and leap.
Grasping,
snatching;
catching moments and memories
of fallen pasts.
Using gentle aggression,
knowing
that to hold too tightly
will crumble-crunch the leaf
in my hand.
Ignoring the stares
of my buttoned-down neighbors
who have let
their wonder-filled child
be locked in the cellar.
Until, finally
I trip on a tree root
and lie gasping,
staring into blue sky
and falling leaves.

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[LeBroz]

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If this intrigues you, here's just one of many places with translations of Du Fu's poetry.


Du Fu (and a passenger's thoughts)
by Senna Jawa©

filled
with snow and shine
with rains and stars
the skies
were a living
spacious room
to the ones
in Du Fu's care

today
the clouds below
glow but throw
a shadow
down onto
the gray Atlantic

if this
metallic bird
were a writer
and lost
its small ones in fog
it'd be a poet
after a million miles
like Du Fu
a thousand and more
years ago
sailing up and down
chinese rivers
merging
into the other
ocean

no highways
cross apartments and homes
plush wall to wall

the hot air
between the seat of a comfy chair
and the seat of acceptable slacks
might be loud
but will never
shoot the pen
thru the ceiling

the monkeys on slopes and hills are long gone

the paper money and tax forms multiply

come travel Du Fu again
cross with us the white water
at the edge of the new millenium
sail up and down the electronic streams
amplify the faint echo
of your social concern
of the color of your children's pain
paint the chinese mountains in crisp fractals
and pour the eternal wine

there'll be never another poet like you​

Wlodzimierz Holsztynski
1992-05-16/19

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