Archival Review

[LeBroz]

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Here's the poem that got my attention and caused me to look over his body of work to find pieces I'd overlooked. It is so softly sensual.


evening
by poetboy824©


evening is a woman

a purple gown
of pain

a magenta veil
of grace

with a barefoot
vulnerability
as she strolls
through the blue
whispering her wishes
to the wind

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[LeBroz]

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Here's one written in the spirit of post-event let-down. Having lived through the experience in Atlanta in '96, it has the feel of now what?


Evening Hillside
by Remec©


The friendly peace of the Games is done.
The sickles have cut herbs, the scythes grasses.
All lie in wait, drying, having been mown.
While the silent Hay Moon passes.

I lie beneath its silvery light,
My future walking through my mind,
Dozing, breathing in the summer night,
I worry over what I've left behind.

Task and plans, being always left undone,
While I stare at the Moon, sleep through the Sun.

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[LeBroz]

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It's what I like about these brief poems — so open to interpretation. Literal? Metaphorical? You decide.


Evening Venus
by cward2©


She hangs on a street corner,
A hooker loyal to her pimp:
The age-old sky.

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[LeBroz]

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Or perhaps if it were a little Saran™ Wrap dress, the produce revealed would be more delectable — let's skip the dessert.


Evening Wear and Groceries
by Tzara©


You've got that little black dress on, the one
that fits you like Saran Wrap on your hips.
The one that makes me think of produce. Me,
Mr. Meat-and-Potatoes, of all people.

You get me thinking about more healthy food
and daily exercise, organic cultivation,
and the richness of the earth. I don't remember
where we were going, but now I'm really hungry

and I think I want a healthy snack or two,
my ripe tomato. Tell me—are you vegetable or fruit?

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[LeBroz]

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Seems appropriate to read this today as a delicate powder of snow is falling, decorating the evergreens with a fine spray of white.


Evergreen
by poetboy824©


Green, velvet, a dress,
For Evergreen,

Sequin’d with ice,
For Evergreen,

Trim’d snowy white,
For Evergreen –

May she grow, may she grow,
Forever green,

May she know, only know,
Forever green.

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[LeBroz]

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Here's a little fantasy of memory and hope that defines who you are.


Everland
by Angeline©


Those mornings were noisy things.
I awoke to hammers knocked on nails
like expectations knock on dreams,
wanting them to live, to believe

faith is born in spring when Daddy
fit latticework to a bench. Saturday,
when even rain was sunny, expectation
wore shorts, pedaled round the block
on a blue ten-speed with hand brakes.

Is faith hammered from memory,
brushed on a crooked bench
with an arc of climbing roses
like ribbons, the vines dropping
through uneven boards, spilling
rainy sun perfume on a little girl
who sits and reads and dreams?

Love smells like varnish,
feels like rose petals slipping
in the breeze of a secret spot.

Someday I despair of ever
finding somewhere safe again,
but turning the page second star
to the right and flying straight on
till morning, am redeemed,
not in a dream that never was,
but once upon a Saturday
with roses and a book.

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[LeBroz]

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Here he starts off getting into her mind with some mental seduction till everything is open to him and all her passions are unleashed.


everMore
by RazzRajen©


Walks He , deliberately
into the meandering corridors of her mind.
Slowly and watchfully marking His wants
Here be a little corner,
there another terrace,
she opens like a flower,
He sups
delicately,
then ravenously,

she glows as he does,
her offering
a frenzy
that creates more,
His feeding
a storm that ignites her
very soul

drawn again
and anon
thence to re-surrect,

she will fill His cup
again and again,
that dark liquid ,
that light in her eyes.

Shimmering , coalescing
brimming again
He Takes
fleshes His desires
evermore

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[LeBroz]

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To change it a bit, when it's a case of serious love, absence makes the heart ... ache.


Every Day I Miss You
by Belegon©


I hear your footsteps
Around every corner
The scent of your hair
Carried on every breeze
Every time I glance up
I expect to see you
Every time the phone rings
I wait for your voice
I see your reflection
In every mirror
Before I focus on my own
You only just left
My mind knows
It has only been hours
But to my heart
Long months have passed
And it will be years
Until I hold you again


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[LeBroz]

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What a metaphorically laden write; she starts out declaring the moon pregnant with metaphor and then delivers.


Everymoon
by Angeline©


The moon is pregnant with metaphor.
You look up and see a fingernail
or a benevolent loopy face.
Think of a harvest moon, dark
as pumpkin or winter’s white gold
shifting in and out of gray, hanging
like an ornament in a snow globe.
The delicate spring moon is balanced
in night, a promise lighting copses’
hidden bowers, glowing on whispers,
laughter, yours and yours, a promise
kept in summer in its translucent
descent kissing rivers and ocean,
so full of itself, dancing joy on water,
but it’s shy and unsure, too,
a bumpkin moon sneaking behind
the Sun's skirts, sometimes all the way.
Nothing is so cold as that moment
when it’s blotted away by darkness
or so reassuring as the ever of its return.
We daydream about the cow’s high jump,
the silly dish and spoon eloping,
and we feel safe and sleep or sing
about its glow, how it shines on
because it has to be moonlight
or shadow or some other thing
that it is and isn’t everywhere.


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[LeBroz]

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Commitment issues perhaps? And then the outcome's result, as nicely put as it is here, should not be in doubt.


Everyone I ever loved
by steve porter©


Everyone I ever loved
I held next to my heart,
although not so near
to keep from disappearing,
but close enough, I suppose.

And if you wanted me to
hold you a little longer,
in retrospect you see
the vast unlikelihood of
how that could ever be.

Well, I held you as long as I could.

And everything you did
you did it all for me,
and everything I did
I did for you, you see;
we did it for each other.

And if it all unraveled
like a cheap Chinese suit,
this is nobodys fault
and nothing more to it;
we did it to one another.

And in time this becomes understood.


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[LeBroz]

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Here's one to set your heads to spinning. And here's another thought to confound further: whle everything out there is analog and while our vision/hearing receive analog, the brain receives and processes as digital, though it processes all those bits at such a high rate as to be undetectable.


Everything Is Analog
by Liar©


The world is white now,
no wishes
to get it over with
was granted.

Nectar turned to stasis,
orange shimmer with low
Kelvin gloss hums in the
morning rays,

more tangible now than ever.

Dawn greets with cyan
and dusk with fire,

because they dare not
remind us of the other,
do all they can to fuel
the antithesis.

As if dueling
could grant them any other
purpose than ticks
in our imagination,
our illusion of concept.

It will be all right tomorrow.

But everything is analog.
Process, not pulse,
propels us.

Everything is white now.
It suspends our disbelief,
but is also nothing
but an earth bound
perspective's folly.


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[LeBroz]

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Here's a fun piece from yesterday's birthday gal — hoping the studies aren't grinding her down. You can't argue with her logic, after all, the logic is hers.


Everything Is Everything
by average gina©


Everything is everything
So nothing is nothing
And something is something
And wherever you are you are there
But I am here
Until I am there
And there is not there anymore
Because there is now here
There does not exist
Where I am
Because I am always here
And when I get there
I am here
And there disappears.
So you don’t miss something
Until it’s gone
But what is there to miss
If I were never there?

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[LeBroz]

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Before Momma Swirls made her recent contribution to the current baby boomlet, she spent her energies creating such thought provoking poems as this.


Evidence
by annaswirls©


1.

you come to me on days of trancendence
the days of January
we missed due to sleep
days I forget the hour
the month since you have gone

confirmation gift:
a crow dropped
your daughter's gold necklace and cross
down the chimney
it sounded like something much larger
we could not make out the words

2.

your lover captured you
in voice-over photographic collages
barely recognizable
you do not move


3.

a young boy
climbed on the bench
next to a beautiful woman
kneeling close
he pushed the hair
from her face
and touched her cheek


4.

an elderly woman wears breakfast
in stains down the front of her ruffled blouse
she watches the birds scatter for imagined crumbs
the wind blows hair into her eyes
she sees more birds scatter for imaginary crumbs


5.

you come to me
these days where all rises over impossibility
ozone sharpness raises the hairs on my forearms
electrons at my fingertips
wait for release


6.

the boy saw you stream down the storm drain
I know he saw you there
the way he chased the water
and watched it fall
and fall
and then disappear
but still it kept coming
still it kept coming
it must be raining
somewhere in the North
because still you keep running on down

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[LeBroz]

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A check on the moody male psyche that nothing can reach. Sometimes he's just got to let it all play out.


Everything will be all right
by neonurotic©


Brooding again with blue devils
who know me all too well
as they always find
what they leave behind

They welcome with tails
coiling around me
slippery with scummy slime

The dirty beasts
plant seeds of doubt
fertilize with lies
that endlessly multiple

Jettison this junk
from my head to
clear away moody logic

Yes, although I love you
blow jobs don't fix everything
give me time to
eat my own heart out

Tomorrow I'll slip away
from these black snakes
then everything will be all right


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[LeBroz]

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With temperatures promising to remain in the teens for the next 48 hours, you can understand my appreciation for this poem of promise.


Evidence of Spring
by ~hellbaby~©


From the door of the gym
To the door of the car
One single footprint
From one squishy shoe

Slushy gray hills born of
Glistening white mountains
Turn into puddles
As seasons renew

Scissors are cutting
Driers are drying
Roots that were gray
Now have a red hue

Little flashes of orange
As fishy fins flutter
Up through the water
Come shoots of bamboo

Winter winds blow away
taking with them the past
will this be the spring
to find love that's true

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[LeBroz]

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Waking up to the 7°F cold, I need something hot to warm me up.


Excite me.
by MistressJett©

You excite me,
entice me,
amplify me.

My blood
pumps faster
with you around.

You cheer me,
invigorate me,
make me tick.

I want to stay up
all night
with you.

My dear,
sweet coffee,
I love you.​

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[WomanPariah]

distilled to its essence

 

[LeBroz]

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Okay, you want simple? Here's one from one of the premier craftsmen of the simple.


excited...
by Senna Jawa©

excited I watched
young dog chasing its tail
now we rest panting​

wh,
1995-11-03


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[LeBroz]

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Is this the way you feel in the morning as you prepare to face the day and come face to face with your image, revealing the after effects of last nights partying?


Exercise 1a
by BooMerengue©


Faded wallpaper
dim light glooming thru greasy curtains
a drawer opening

in the mirror
straggly hair
frightened eyes
trembling hands

a furtive glance
a step back
a gasp!

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[Angeline]

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Is this the way you feel in the morning as you prepare to face the day and come face to face with your image, revealing the after effects of last nights partying?


Exercise 1a
by BooMerengue©


Faded wallpaper
dim light glooming thru greasy curtains
a drawer opening

in the mirror
straggly hair
frightened eyes
trembling hands

a furtive glance
a step back
a gasp!

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Gosh I miss Boo. She's such a beautiful person, and so much more talented than she ever seems to think she is. Boo baby, wherever you are, cmon back!

 

[LeBroz]

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That's another way of looking at getting with the program...or all the internet delights that await a mouse click.


Existential Harlot
by bluerains©


She’s a vulgar vamp
with smorgasbord's appetite
possibilities....

She's a rundown tramp
comsumed in computer lust
solitariness....

She’s isolation
with incomprehension of
intellectuals..

She’s grazing on words
feeding on spinning ego
counting her sheep...


she is..."The Program"..

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[LeBroz]

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There may be at least two interpretations possible, but in both I see sadness and threatening tears. Driving could be happening literally or metaphorically, the salty taste from her lover or from tears shed, or even desire — wished for from a spouse or for a lover — to duty {a sterile marriage}. Try it from both sides and see the feeling of pain engendered.


Exit 7
by impressive©


driving from desire to duty
vision obscured by the distortion
of liquid hope as it again
escapes
softening the crust of dried futility
and the salty taste of tomorrow
on unkissed lips
holding on to life
by nothing stronger than the
surface tension
of a tear

~ ~ ~


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[LeBroz]

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I was looking back over the recent selections I've posted and find that there is quite a variety in fact. And here I was beginning to feel that there were only a few names appearing. A rather pleasing distillate from over 6,800 already read — approx 14% selection rate. Now go and enjoy this evening's selection.


Exit Rome
by Icingsugar©


lapsing now into
a 'when in rome' lingo
i drink all the zeitgeist
i possibly bear

adapting my voice
and my makebelieve stance
but not sounds in me
that only you can hear

abrupt adaptation
the fittest will conquer
this stale masturbation
of shallow charades

we put on our faces
and cling to eachother
with nothing between us
all 'when in rome' fades

in smiles of enchantment
and plastic ambition
we plough, hand in hand
through a Neverreal night

polite, rid of passion
and all indication
that 'when in rome' lies
on our faces ignite

so thank you, my anchor
reality benchmark
through rivers of zeitgest
you're keeping me sane

we head for a breather
all apologetic
faux smiles and adore
fleeing shit and champagne

now free of the river
the mask ocean vastness
you rid me of riddles
and undress my head

alone and together
comfortably ugly
our
..Neverreal
....'when in rome'
......monsters
........fall dead

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[LeBroz]

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And sometimes those expectations can drive you up the wall; you expect one thing, your partner does another. Or, become a true cynic; expect nothing and you'll never be disappointed.


Expectations
by RazzRajen©


Expectations are funny things,
sometimes, loved ones desire more
sometimes they need more.

Building
expectations is
like a child's building
blocks
Who would remove a piece
let it all tumble down
why would, should they?

Sometimes, expectations
can demand more from one,
make ones rise to the standard

Taking more giving less,
wait, that is not how it is
or should be?

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[LeBroz]

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Okay now, let's befuddle you with some enigmatic questions that ought to wreck your sleep tonight as you ponder the imponderable.


Explanation Sought
by Liar©


What is it,
in simple shoals of laughter
that can ring
so true,

when stars
weep centennial loss
of sisters,
bleeding plasma
into the void,

and epiphany drowns
in the whirring of wheels,
clicking until
white noise
consumes us all?

What is it with love,
really,

when air
moves like concrete,
exhausting to inhale,
suffocating
to keep in,

and pilgrims pray
at gunpoint
while answers flow
like manna from
the skybar big screen
spectacle.

What is it with hope,
being hope,
after all?

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