Archival Review

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Already tired of it all? And in three days the media will pronounce who the next president will be. Just turn off the news and let us decide.


Erotic Found Poem
by Bill Dada©


as campaign
climaxes
polls tighten

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Razz always manages to evoke some strange imagery for me. Take this one — I come away with a flavor of disdain being evoked at the act of copulation as semen gushes out and the sperm mindlessly rush forward to their certain death. Try it out and see what imagery he evokes for you.


Eruptions
by RazzRajen©


Clutching tattered towels around Him,
rags to none at all,
Give up all things that wrap themselves
in neared closenesses
slick and soft,
....................grating and harsh,
..............................................those acrid smells ,
of fear, of anticipation, of loathing.

Loathing? nay He dips His hand
in putrefaction
and brings out the one jewel
He sought
Those selfsame scintillating shades,
those closed looks
and
that burning fetid air,
Wracking His lungs,
Taking and giving.

He never knew she could make Him,
what then of the bubbling brook
that erupted ,
springing from His loins like a flow

Does that Feed the minions,
sometimes
the multitudes erupting
from His pores are
sated:
Many times not,
....................what will He use next.
Did He collect them all as feeders
breeders all
and Himself too.

A new start,
Wisdom trickles, not roars in.
Charging Steeds, those 600 came to Mind,
charging down slopes into a hail of steel
Never to rise ever


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Here you go with a non-erotic poem — yeah, right. Seems highly erotic on just a first reading, quickly moving from dancing in the rain to fellatio in the rain.


escape
by svelte walker©


not only party dancers
we leaned against the fence
standing still tanguillo

eyes close and open
hands clutch, relax
knees raised we dip
hear cante jondo

our shoes fall
to damp brick pavement
black rain pours from
spout, a racket into
wooden barrel

leaking seams
rusting stays
slow descent
picket slat riding
down onto your wet hair
hands cupping ears
eyes up, mascara streams

I want you fully soaked


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A gently rhyming, didactic message contained herein.


Escape
by xKristinex©


Your feet hit the road with a thunderous beat
You seemingly fly with a purpose
The wind echoes through your ears like a loud drum
As you dash along a never-ending surface

Stop running, for it is a pure waste of time
Wherever you go, you can’t hide
You think of escape, so easy it seems
To bury your feelings inside

But how do you plan to hide from the sun
Its rays graze the whole of the Earth
And when nighttime seeps up from beyond the hills
You can’t run from the moon and its birth

Or what of the wind, its powerful force
Will find you wherever you go
Running for miles to new distant lands
Won’t help you, the wind will still blow

How do you plan to fly to a place
That’s not listened to the birds’ call
One cannot run from nature’s vast song
You may as not wander at all

Do you think if you try to run from the time
Its steady flow will somehow change
Time is a constant, its power unknown
It holds no precise length or range

To run from the world and its terrible anger
Can only bring weakness and doubt
Although pain can slow you and physically drain
There is only one genuine route

So if you will run to that far away place
If it seems that you just cannot cease
Don’t mingle on roads full of comfort but lies
The truth is the way to find peace

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Well now, that's what I call a different perspective.


escape
by laelia©


I was a girl close to the ground by
that I mean following ants through

blades of grass, soiled, salty and self
aware, suckling honeysuckle nectar

sticky inside a secret bamboo grove
grown shadowed with childish affairs


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It's an awwwww moment with which to start the weekend — a massive dose of sweet sentimentality.


Escape of a Breath
by lostandfounder©


Hand in hand we walk into the field
The light of evening dyes the jack pine orange
White and lavender lilac stand guard over pale blueberry blossoms
Wildflowers sing in a chorus of color

He ties my fingers together with a strawberry vine
Kisses them softly
“I’ve captured you”

I smile and kiss him back
He captured me long ago

We lay on the ground
Cushioned by a bed of clover
Our fingers dance together
Watching the golden clouds
As they chase each other across the sea of sky

I try to fight
But a sigh escapes

He touches my face
“What’s wrong?”

I put my head on his broad shoulder
“This is the closest I’m ever going to come to heaven.”


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A little less sentimentality tonight and more just simple word playing to relax your mind from the year's first rough work week.


esteem issues
by Liar©


such a klutz
I weave this quilt
of be or not to be
with gnawing guilt
of knowing me
from skin to guts
but wield my words
so clumsily
in sight of this

just a fool
I play my act
so unresolved
distasteful
drained of tact
improper tool
to do the job
but now involved
in humble praise
in sight of this

just my joke
a grinning face
unworthy of
what this evoke
of gold and grace
and blinded still
I kneel and wait
in sight of this

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An edgy homesick piece, lamenting where he is now and longing for a place he's been before and would rather be now. For me, I could substitute New York for Alabama and Georgia for Texas and recognize those feelings he describes.


Etc..Etc..
by raynecrow2©


And it is another lonely Alabama night,
And something slow and dark is dreaming it's way from the stereo
1000 cigarettes line the ashtray
And outside now,
At 2 am,
The sound of high heels on the balcony
Crushes it all down
And a million lights and songs
Pour out of the houses, apartments, caves,
In this slow dazed town
A million different voices, minds, hearts
Souls?
And each one is like a moth
Flying right into the candle
A puff of smoke, a funny smell
And nothing,
Dust, ashes, and a wrinkling of the nose
And the good Texas Night never seemed so far
Away
With it's magic and sweet sensual voice
Like Garbo drunk on cheap beer
Marilyn on a thousand hits of acid
Like that girl you had a crush on in 1st grade
There is no heart to this one
No sky going on forever and ever
No tragic memories or laughter to give it
Soul
This is a night for crosses burning in ignorance
A Wrath of god
Beating of wives and daughters
Prom Queen suicides
Etc. etc...

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Just overlook the lack of caps; it's deliberate and gives it an edgy feel, as though hurriedly written in a rush to vent. Just think how much is presented in this poem that would take the form of a multi-part story if written for one of Lit's story categories.


etched in poetry
by Jenna Grey©


there were tell tale signs
etched in poetry-
illegible scribble in a journal,
pre-computer days.
almost as if attempting
to disguise the pain.
recollections I can't recall.
words i failed to write
and can't forget.
the times you played golf
'til 11:30 at night
and
came home smelling
as if you
just
showered.
the leather date book
you covet
received from "a vendor"
that same christmas we said
it's over.
where would we be
had it not been for therapy?
"try to look at life
from his perspective,"
she said.
i did.
7 years later i'm digging out
my perspective,
brushin' off the dust,
hangin' it over the fireplace
yep. that's my point of view.
it's not that difficult to interpret-
just look at the tell tale signs
etched in my poetry.


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Today is Razzday. His is such an unusual style; reading him, some days I feel like I'm standing at the end of the runway and getting overflown; other days I feel like I'm flying along and get sucked in...

Today let's look at a couple of his that are a bit different from his usual style. This first has a regular pattern to it that almost sounds *gasp* Yoda-like.


Etched, in Time
by RazzRajen©


Found He was, she looked on him
Stayed her mind to watch
the leaves rustle
as he whispered songs
of nothing ,
songs of everthings,
Fed him she did , succoured and wrapt in
as little beads of body drenched
liquids seeping
from her pores He licked
and she gave always.

Raven tressed she is,
dark of eye and gleaming
in a feral light
at those who
dare encroach.
He stands with her,
Far up in the morning light
far down in the
stygian abyss,

Darkness and more
she took from him
Hunters are also lovers
Cobras twined as Once One
stood for Him on tailtip
swaying and sussurating
Mated as always for life
she was born to Be his
in the end before
the slowly sliding whispered trickles
claimed His life

No need to roam
no need to wander
All He wants
all He desires
All He asks

she gave, Dark her locks
as the swaying shimmering strands
of gossamer thoughts
Closed round the two,
again and yet still
writhings as coils of
stupored flesh woke in the morn

Eyes lingered as caresses
soft breathy silences flowing over
stretched skins.
Taken aloft, left adrift she always returned
and He kept.

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This is Razz? Yep — about the simplest of his writings I've come across; much different from the other of his writings I posted above and both are so much different than so much of the body of his works here at Lit.


Eternal
by RazzRajen©


Ageless wonders of time
Their love wafts on the winds
of fair sail
moving as will-o'wisps
Fancy a stop here
a sojourn there.

Together they travel
through the Ends of Time
forever enthralled

do all things come to an end
Is entropy the way of Nature?
Does it have to Be?

They stand and fight
shoulder to shoulder
back to back
And later still

Entwined.

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Here's a really tough one to work on; you'll have to use an imagination as you keep on rereading this.


Eternally Warring Lovers
by postobitum©


Cool salinity,
contradictory forces
tormenting blond sands.

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Identifiable as a night that insomnia stands triumphant over all the usual tricks used to defeat him and you have to go to work, even though you're now able to go to sleep.


Eternity
by stilltrying©


And so I thought to myself,

"If I haven't found it by now, what's the point in going on? There's probably only more heartache ahead."

and the chance no longer seemed worth taking,

so I tried to drown my moribund soul

beneath the rolling waves of a heavy blanket

and though I found a small night waiting there behind my eyelids,

no sleep came

only vague dreams and an occasional itch

so on and on I lay in torpid expectancy

and while I waited for my turn to surrender,

time slowed to a crawl

and then to nothing at all

and I thought,

"eternity would be alot easier if I'd only remembered to bring a book"

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Somehow, I passed over this poet until I recently read a good simple poem of his and looked back over his body of work; so we'll start the next few mornings with a catch up of a few of these, such as this touchingly simple write with a touch of reality valentine.


A Valentine Poem
by poetboy824©


A sprig of lilac,
Not a rose bouquet –

Coca-Cola,
Never chardonnay –-

(Flannel pajamas,
No lingerie –)

For my pretty wife,
My lovely wife,
My petite wife,
K.


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Somehow, I passed over this poet until I recently read a good simple poem of his and looked back over his body of work; so we'll start the next few mornings with a catch up of a few of these, such as this touchingly simple write with a touch of reality valentine.


A Valentine Poem
by poetboy824©


A sprig of lilac,
Not a rose bouquet –

Coca-Cola,
Never chardonnay –-

(Flannel pajamas,
No lingerie –)

For my pretty wife,
My lovely wife,
My petite wife,
K.


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I'm glad you posted this. I had forgotten about him. He has written some wonderful poetry here, and is well worth looking up and reading. That's why I love this thread. :)

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By way of contrast to this morning's light reading from poetboy, here's something with a bit more prose on its bones.


Etruscan Bones
by darkmaas©


Yesterday
I saw a girl
who had your bones.
She had her hair
in loose retro braids
like you wore
in ’84.
I watched her laughter
‘cross the bar.
I had to leave
my drink unfinished.

Remember when
we hired that cab
to take us
from Malacca
to Singapore?
The driver spoke some English
so we whispered in pig Latin.
When he asked where we were from
you grinned and lied
with sham pride
“We are Etruscan.”
He smiled and claimed he often
had people from Etrusca
in his cab.

You slept most the way
your head upon my lap.
As I watched
the regimental rows
of rubber trees march past
I let my fingers trace
the line your collarbone
made across the curve
from throat to breast.

She had the same line ‘neath her sweater.
Her cheek bones high like yours
but the nose was wrong.

Those days spent in Penang
on rubber time
with shutters closed against the sun
but beams of light
got through the cracks
stirred up the dust
and fell in lines
across your skin.
Your bones beneath the skin
bent those lines of sunlight
into sweat-stained hieroglyphs
that danced with every breath.
If I but knew the code
I could have read your bones
like poetry.

Sophia told me
after her last visit
that your daughter
now in college
had your bones.
The thought that
neither time nor Death
could defeat good bones
made me smile.

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There's more here to autumn's nature than leaves laying on the ground as new life promised in the acorns is carefully nurtured in nature's nursery. {And once the New Poems list settles down, quits making like a pulsar, and stops shuffling what might be 21 new poems, I'll check out today's offerings.}


Autumn Sleeps
by poetboy824©


Bare, Autumn sleeps,
At the foot of the Oak,
Her chestnut tresses abound;

Embroidered with leaves,
Scarlet and gold,
Her locks blanket the ground;

She keeps them nestled,
In her soft, earthen womb,
Acorns -- warm, sound.

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A little travel piece and hey, if there's a blonde involved, then it's a brilliant masterpiece!


Eugene
by 2rivers©


Eugene


Eugene, Buena Vista, Cleveland, Baltimore, Whole Texas
places on Sunday morning somber thoughts
Florida’s engorged nipple
Reno and Vegas and reality, really

travel bag
insides out
with rollers, boat hitch
diving board
hotel smell

again sitting
on a too blonde couch
with keys in front
food if I want it
lay way back
look at that crack
in the ceiling never fixed

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Anthropomorphism stood on end here as natural and non-natural elements are used to describe the human condition. This goes beyond zoomorphism as there are elements beyond just describing human elements with animal attributes. I suppose the best way to describe this is as deification as not only are natural elements used but also non-natural elements. Think about it.


crystalline limes
by poetboy824©


ordinary obsessions
collapsing
an extraordinary skull
like a starving hyena
ravaging
its own innards

my parched
love-battered
soul
catatonic recluse
hiding under
the razor thin carapace
of a scorpion’s shadow
sipping a necessary
silence

but the parasites of desire
dangle like ancient ornaments
from pines perpetually oozing sweet promise
capturing ants in mid step
which die dreaming
of the queen

a silver slug’s sparkling trail
scribbled across Time’s engorged breasts

and a low slung destiny
dragging
like a bear’s autumn belly
across the frosty tundra
smoldering with hibernation’s ultimatum
“eat your fill or die”

asymmetrical grins
in a daydream
of the bottom of
endless

a cross-legged Goddess
weaving a smile
on my heart’s loom

and meteors twinkling
like crystalline limes
during this brief
eternity

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Maybe after I eat a late dinner I'll be able to determine all the meanings buried here, starting with that title. Right now I know I just love that third strophe!


Eugene Kissin
by Senna Jawa©







from beyond Shumann's grave
how dare a yungster rush
abandoned abundant flow of etudes
thru my stifled arteries?

how dare a teen squeeze
tears from a winter head?

the trees flapped
their green blades
have cut windows in clouds
for the wind and lightnings

tell me truth you
know..my fate

play for..e..ver
give me life

fi..nish and i'll
glad..ly die

plam pam pam pam
pam pam pam

...........................pam






wlodzimierz holsztynski ©
1995-09-26

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Hey...

Just Stoppin By...
Where Is Jamison ...or Neo...i Was Just Lookin...great Poetry From This One....makes Me Think...blue
 
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A very simple, uncomplicated piece of a day's start.


Dawn
by poetboy824©


Dawn awoke
wiggled her toes
in a sheer gown
of muted rose

stretched yawned
sat awhile
bathed the earth
with her radiant smile

stood and meandered
up the hill
dispersed the shadows
and the lingering chill

near a cottage
far below
where honey was gathered
and jasmine grew

the cock’s crow
shattered bliss
the lovers stirred
one last kiss

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A deceptively simple little poem to give your weekend start some stimulus.


even trade
by smithpeter©


you can have my camera
I don’t want that pretty gun
some scars encourage


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Somehow this seems suggestive of a remembrance of a former illicit love that flared and then both moved on, she to an unknowing husband in whose arms she still remembers a brief hot fling.


Even when my hair went grey
by Minervous©


Even when my hair went grey
I avoided the obits.
And then today I saw your
picture as I was paging
along towards Dear Abby.
You were older, but older
and the same. I felt a sharp
flare of love and sex and fear
and I remembered those last
slow days where our love fluttered
helplessly about like a
pet bird with clipped wings who was
puzzled why he couldn't just
fly out the window and up
into the big branched maple
in the yard. But, oh, also
I remember how there was
then still that animal pull—
how I would cling, cling to you
and not just from habit or
pride. Even now at times, when
wrapped close in my husband's arms,
it is your strong hands I feel
on my belly, your firm thighs
that press long against my thighs.
It is your breath on my neck.
And I think, God, I must be
a palimpsest or something
and I wonder where you've gone
and whether you thought of me
at all as you were dying.

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