Archival Review

[Senna Jawa]

Svenskaflicka

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Fifty Years From Now
by Svenskaflicka©


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I like Svenskaflicka's poetry, including this one ("Fifty..."). It does have a couple of weaknesses but I still like it, it's still good, it's poetry. You may also enjoy the following one by her:

Mother's nightmare
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Regards,

 

[LeBroz]

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With her own style of Bless his heart, perhaps she'll fit in so well down south.


Figaro Snoozed
by Angeline©


The holy source of my desires
laments this afternoon,
which proceeds in sluggish patches,
the air barely fan-shifted, while
our breath is drawn like inches
of sleepy sweet alarums.

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

The Count's treacherous buffoonery
is wrung note by note but you just snore,
turn your long back arched for scratch,
lamenting for the heat to cease proceeding.

These women cry hot, passionate.
Their betrayal red as sirens runs
streaming between layers of patriarchy.
They lament oppression, invalidation
is a subterfuge they navigate
like larks trilling in a forest.
They sing, search for territorial clues.

Oh treachery of men!
Holy source of my desires,
you smile while you sleep,
roll your hips toward the fan.
Oh lamentation--
the dead-weighted obstacle
of your leg blocking the stretch
of mine.

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[LeBroz]

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Here's one for those Fight Club fans.


Fight Club
by neonurotic©



My single serving friend
doppelgänger
haven't seen you for awhile

We still don't get along, square
off, toe to toe
You hit me, I hit back
my Jack to your Tyler
We take our licks
because the fourth rule of Fight Club
is only two guys to a fight

A cold metal barrel in my mouth
but I never pull the trigger
You know that, win every time

You've always been braver
more clever, not afraid to be
It goes with losing everything
it's what sets you free

Yes I know that, didn't before
but I do now
This is my life and it's ending
one minute at a time

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[LeBroz]

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Perhaps a little something to give you a sense of foreboding.


Figures
by hippiedude©


Hooded figures slip past the night,
Floating gray withers of dust and ash,
Cradled clean like vested craft,
Borne high on blackened staff.

Emerging formant cry
ecstatic visceral utterance
taut the flesh and arched the back
dance the knowing finger tip.

Hated figures elude our grasp,
Bending particles of streaming light,
Estuarial runners like gilded nobles,
Flail the sky to purple dusk.

One last sultry brass stated solo,
one moon glow textured blast,
we'd be consumed in the fold,
squirming in the sluggard blood.

Frail figures fall from lurid waters,
Majestic heads turn spine locks blue,
Arsenic attitudes of spectral scythe,
Doom the crimson birds from life.

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[LeBroz]

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Let's end the day on a more pleasurable note than it started.


Figurines
by RazzRajen©


Plaintive figurines.......walking in the shadows
........ephemeral visions, hardened minds
coalesced feelings,
may they make the trills rise,
those ripples in the still waters,
whence came they?

a hard abide , a soft fall, boughs are what make the wind sigh
........Take from the skies what peals of laughter reside,
wrap them slowly and make them pretty,
your glances, your soft whispers, those make the heart glad

........who is there to watch the bird fly?
rise high and take flight,
Carry the song to the ether ,
yet again


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[LeBroz]

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There's something soothing about starting a Monday with a sonnet.


Fill Me (A Sonnet)
by JUDO©


(for Angeline and our mutual drug)

As sweet angelic pyre illumes the night
With echoes' ringing phrase and breaths so cool,
I might believe a Queen has called her fool
For shallow is my brain that sees their height.

For none has felt their song and left unstirred
The tremors brought by cold or knees or heart.
It's burning scalds the soul to scar the art --
This jumping, fleeting passion I've once heard.

Three conversations bled tonight as one
To lay foundations deep within my breast
That hip nor hop could pound like fervent pest
Its seed that grows to bloom inside undone.

Forever changed, my soul cries out for "MORE!"
Thy willing jar will syncopate -- please pour.

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[LeBroz]

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Here's some fun 'n easy wordplay from Cordelia.


filling in the between
by Cordelia©


guerrilla heart-squeeze
......from unfair
......to rakish
advantage

the ball’s (always) in your court

and gold-flecked gratitude
......dribbles
my inadequacy
keeping
cardio-grammatical
......sentences
from spilling what
may really be forming

poised at
the edge of silence

draping smooth verbs
......in red
japanese-lantern-light
and obscuring with
......polysyllabic prestidigitation

tease like stocking –
......couched
in the almost-pleasure
of your

beautiful absence


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[LeBroz]

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A nice short humorous piece. And just whom would you recommend for this power lunch?


Filthy Heart, Twisted Mind
by FifthFlower©


I had a person for my lunch.
He tasted pretty good.
His filthy heart, it's what I love!
I ate all that I could.
His mind was twisted, nice to crunch.
I guess he thought he'd be
Saved from my teeth by Gods above
Or Gods below like me.

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[LeBroz]

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Here's a sad piece to consider; it's not of just a lost love but of a lost forbidden love. A forbidden love burns so much more brightly, but when it's done, its finality is so much more real.


Final Embers
by Wanton Vixxxen©


I stare at the fire now smoldering before me
The memory of us very much the same
as the ashes reveal the finale of our love
Dimming; the embers flicker with pain.

Charring its surroundings; the air emits heavy
a dooming scent of forbidden love's cost
The heat of the flames; once blazing as we were
are gone now; squelched by the tears of all lost.

I watch in sorrow as the final two embers
fall aside together as if in despair
Taking their last breaths of life remembered
Dying; they drift apart as though they can't tear

away from the others that were there before they were;
the ashes and soot and remains of their past
They now lay with their own; with other dead pieces

As we do
Apart
Final embers at last.

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[LeBroz]

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Continuing on in this vein of a lost love, here's another look at the feeling it leaves behind.


Final message
by sack©


Don't scream
it is only a twist
a gentle scraping
of your soul

The knife goes deeper
yet there is no pain
feelings dead
numbed unsaid

No words spoken
nothing broken
only a heart
beating off the hook

Is anyone there?
Does anyone care?
Don't scream
We'll meet in dreams

It is only a twist
and won't hurt a bit
The knife goes deeper
leaving a message

There is no beep
nothing to rewind
only our souls
forever intertwined

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[LeBroz]

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From high-powered music to high-powered car, that's quite an unexpected transition.


Final Movement
by hippiedude©


Bach’s Brandenburg Concerto No. 6
is an appropriate autumnal accompaniment
to the aspen yellow and contrasting pines
of Roosevelt National Forest.
The dark coloration of the lower strings
pierced by offsetting viola highs,
is to the ears what fall is to the eyes.

But that final Allegro movement,
with its driving, syncopated resolve,
has less to do with seasons, trees, or color,
and more to do with how fast my car
can take these mountain curves,
and the words I will use to explain myself,
if this road leads safely back to you.


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[LeBroz]

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You can feel that there's more than a mere change in a physical structure happening here.


Final Renovation
by Liar©


We brought down
what hunger put up,
stripped it down to naked wood and skin.
With carpet blades
and finger nails
we tore a time that never should have been.

We carried out
a three year's sleep,
cigarettes and silence from the walls.
It's written still
in punctured palms
but that is all forgetful flesh recalls.

And you
are older now than ever,
slower now to savor every breath.
You say
There's always something bigger
but living on a linger isn't death.

We let in
an indian summer wind,
spiralling a dust cloud in the sun.
You stepped in
and swirled along
to tell me that a new day had begun.

We brought up
a new veneer,
cyan white as carefree as the sky.
I closed the door,
left you there
to whisper your good riddance and goodbye.

And you, more beautiful than ever,
led me out to indian summer glow.
You said
I will never hear it,
but I leave a better story when I go.


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[LeBroz]

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Here's a little journey of the mind you can take part in; just see where she takes you.


Final Slip Into
by Linbido©


It happens, sometimes.
A freudian slip
of dimensional proportions
setting rocks in motion
through conversation
and a careless word,
just one too many.
Pivoting the course,
changing the key,
opening gateways
to new, unimaginable worlds
and all new paths of fate.

Yes, it happens, sometimes.
And now it did.

What she said?

Doesn't matter,
but it lit the spark
and awoke the butterflies
and shone light from
a so far unheard of option
through this new doorway
onto his stunned face.

So now she wonders
"Where will this end?",
just as much as the adventurer,
who boldly steps through
the unintentional door.

She tug at the collar
of her disobedient,
wandering self,
that silently dreams
about the delusional road,
intently debating, battling
her left brain against her right
and getting nowhere fast.

So he takes another step,
by proxy of a fingertip
in an open palm
that she know should,
but that she can't allow
to pull away.

Because it happened this time,
a final slip to unlock,
open the doorway,
set the rocks are motion,

and nothing will ever
be the same again.


.......
(thanks to the collective mind of the Literotica poetry board)

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[LeBroz]

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There's so much in these few lines yet even more words can be cut and the meaning will still remain intact.


Final Stroke
by just pet©


I read your letter
and my tears melted the ink
into puddles of remorse
softening the hardness of the stroke
'you understand' it whispered


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[LeBroz]

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While the formatting might be tidied up a bit, here's an example of a very clear, clean, and expressive poem. No need to reread it to fully grasp the poet's meaning.


Finally beside you.
by Ravishing©


always behind you
trailing
falling behind
glancing up
only to find I needed to run
always trying to keep up
stumbling in your wake
in everything you'd
been there,
done that,
my life was full of
frustration
despair
anguish
and then
I stopped
just stood there
and let you walk on
alone
it's then you turned
and held out your hand
let my fingers be entwined
within yours
and together
we carried on.


© 12th, Feb, 2004

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[LeBroz]

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Did you ever have such a desperate need to finish a piece you were writing that the entire universe had to stop till your work was done? Well then, read on.


Diety
by logophile©


"For my darling three.
I couldn't face my demons without you."


"Not Now."

Words that echoed through me,
telling me to wait,
just for a minute.

"I need to write."

My mother spoke the phrase,
viciously, desperately.
Like a drunk would say,
"C'mon man, just pour me one."

She would turn from her work, wild eyed.
Hair hastily tucked back behind ears,
Glowing cherry of her requisite Virginia Slim
dangling, barely there, from her lips.

The incessant typing moved at a pace that dizzied me,
turned me inside out as I was watched the screen
fill with words,
lovely lopsided words;
a whole world created in my mother's head,
placed here on earth for us mere mortals to live in.

Hours would pass, sometimes days
with me perched
behind her and just a little to her right.
Mesmerized by her frenzy,
and a little frightened.

"Mama?
A bowl of soup?
Some crackers?
Mama, how long's it been?"

"Shh… I'll take a break at 3000 words, darling."
But she didn't.

Somehow the stories fed her, as they ate her alive -
a sort of literary perpetual motion machine,
but too thin and with chewed up fingernails.

"Bean!" she called to me in exhaustion and exasperation –
"I need a word… I need a word.
Ummm, not Futile,
not Pointless,
Something better. You know,
Something More."

"Trifling?
Ineffectual?
Vapid?"

A trilling triumphant laugh and
a conspiratorial smile were
my sweet reward.
"Ah, yes! Vapid.
Perfect, my girl."

My vigil paid off.
She let me in to her soul and
I got to be part of it too.

Part of the construction and assembly
that consumed her until
she seemed sometimes nothing
more than tired eyes,
stooped back,
coffee cup
and flying fingers.

I got to be part of her.


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[LeBroz]

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Here's one with a truncated title and the vivid imagery of the death of a civilization.


Finding a wasps nest in my Aunt's h
by vampiredust©


I found it nestled in the corner
of a wintering cupboard, a paper
coral made out of regurgitated
wood pulp and last month's news.

The wasps hummed their Talmud
as I slept that night, every word
creeping through the floorboards
into my head.

But they wouldn't be there tomorrow.
The hooded scarecrows would flood
their home with mustard gas, under
an auspice of peace,

falling as if it were a biblical scene.
But there would be no one to sweep them
up and bury them as the sky mourned.

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[LeBroz]

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Let's make this Razzday with a pair from the man. There's nothing quite like a woman to bring focus and purpose to a man's life, as he so eloquently puts it here.


Finding One
by RazzRajen©


Touch,
so gentle.
Vibrations,
so mesmerizing,
the strains of sounds
fill the ether
numbing all or simply the two.

I am here
and lost
till the little one came.
Dragging
Me out of My shell.
Lifting My eyes
to the light.

and I gazed upon thee
ne'er moved Mine eyes away
Is this atrophy or simply
have I become a calcified stalactite

the caverns are dark and deep
and My mind is filled
with thoughts of thee

Is it the same
who never left
stood there as a pillar
defying the maiden's
efforts to push Him away.
Chuckling softly
as she fought against herself,
.........more than Him
as His resolve was firm

......He knew in His bones
Nothing would change


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[LeBroz]

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Here you have a slightly different look from Razz, the loneliness of being and the happiness of sharing all that you are.


Finding The Way
by RazzRajen©


Sadness weighs heavy
Look up bright cloud........tripping gaily
along that Way
Happy that He has found it,
Happy that no one else knows

Is knowledge not meant to be shared?
Can happiness kept within One
really be happiness?
Swimming against the current,
salmon return to die
spending prodigious amounts of energy,
they find their way back Home

only to die
Yet they live on again and again
wasted in their old age
alone
I will not accept that
Cannot accept that

Surely in all this Place
is one to show the Way?

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[LeBroz]

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Okay guys, this one's for you. The women already know what this feels like. Try a bit of empathy and imagine how she feels.


fingers crossed
by catastrophe©


three little white sticks
stark, even against the cold
white porcelain
of the dorm’s bathroom sink.

three little white sticks
like two could be wrong
or change the decision
that fate has already made.

fumbling directions
folded pieces of complication
complication of her life
of semiotics
of plus or minus,
and one line or two,
panicked breathing and
holding back tears
as she imagines prison bars
in a pink or blue room

“late, late, late,”
she whispers
praying to a god
she doesn’t believe in
as she watches the
three little sticks transform

“stupid, stupid, stupid”
she curses
with shaking hands and
fingers crossed
as she waits
for the message to be revealed.

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[LeBroz]

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Some words about words; consider this perspective.


Finished
by champagne1982©


Some people say that words,
Can't take it all away.
But,
When words are said and done,
Is there anything more to say?

People are known to use their words,
To bite and wound and mar.
But,
When words are said and done,
Who but you can see the scar?

I know people who whisper words,
Of love's and desire's delights.
But,
When words are said and done,
What warms our cold, dark nights?

There's a treasure trove of magic words,
A poet's book of song.
But,
When words are said and done,
Who are they to say we're wrong?

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[LeBroz]

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The lengths to which some people go for love.


Fin~
by logophile©


So, this is how we end.
I’m at your house and we’re packing things,
tidying things.
We’re getting you ready for your other girlfriend.

I agreed to help because I love you
and your terror was palpable.
The thought of her seeing the
real you frightened you.
I said, “Sure, Babe. I’ll help.”
Having no idea,
of course,
that it would kill
a little part of my soul to do it.

As we pull your mess into piles,
and sort them into boxes
the space we’ve been sharing transforms
from our tangled up love nest
into something respectable.
Something utterly different from
the life we’ve been living.

And it comes to me that I’m helping you
build a new nest.
For the two of you.
I am creating a situation where
I will now have to stand outside
The window and never come back inside.
Back into your bed,
by your side,
where I Belong.

I love you too much to walk away
before the work is done.
We talk about window coverings, shelving units.
We make endless trips to the attic to store away the evidence of you who are.
Of who I fell in love with.

And I feel our end all around me.
Like fear.
Like Panic.
But I stay anyway. I finish the job.
And then I drive away. Knowing it’s the last time.

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[LeBroz]

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Here's someone we've not heard from in a while with a disturbing message poem.


Fiona
by Randi Grail©


hey mister, dance
like you did before
like yesterday in holy heat
of summer afternoon
sun, señoritas, and sangria
fuelled fantastic, frantic

immortal, all man
conqueror casanova

hey mister, say it
say it once again
all those powerful pretty little lies
that makes the pretty little
giggly things in their
summer short pretty little things
swoon and flutter beneath your voice

hey
mister

tell us how

how you sweet talked
wooed, winked, sang
swirled those feet like magic

stirred the lemonade
with your pocket stash
clear liquid fire, almost tasteless
in the right doses

for her

remember her?

all sweet, all smiles
nightingale laugh, ponytail on the side
and big, beautiful hazel brown eyes

dancing with the grown-ups
for the very first time

she has a name
do you even know it?

did you ask
when you swooped her slender frame
and let her bask in adult attention
and a reassuring smile

under lantern light
of incoming night
and carried her, drunken drowsy
stunned silent by surprise
until escorted out of sight

and still
she didn't realise
you'd stake that claim
and shatter a world harbored holy
in a too young heart

hey mister, tell us why
lost in lust, rioja high
you didn't care
or couldn't hear
her cry

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[LeBroz]

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So sensuously romantic on so many levels.


Fireflies
by RazzRajen©


Great trails are open
Pathways to the whorls of the shell
see her pick it up , see her open
the warblings of thrushes ,
the sibilant sounds of dry underbrush
moved by the familiars
Take the verdant tones and make them hers.

Watch the noises slow
and then thrum, the stars beckon
Walk with me a while He said
as she held her hand out to Him
stay a while and let the sky light up
fireflies buzzing as the gardens come alive,

night shades are where He dwells
Sometimes humid, sometimes dank
That music rolls over the moor
........and He is like a Moor

Stay that hand of time,
I want to see you pristine
as the day I beheld your beauty
The mind's eye never ceases
in splendour and fire


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[LeBroz]

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Here's an early piece {from a couple years ago} from a poet just recently noted. Just watch the years pass here as the faith of rote fades to just going through the motions; a sort of insurance policy.


First
by SunrockSin©


Where were we wearing the odd collar,
weary for the tie, tied but disheveled
and untried, knees shaking as sweat rolled
from a wet brow, we bowed, our backs bowed:
strung so tightly when we stood we shot
like an arrow, catching ourselves with one foot
on the altar, the other quivering on carpet
while the wafer winnowed away in water (not air)
our deserted and dusty, dry mouths divining
but a few drops to melt the body of our Lord?

It was the first, of many at the time, as we
fervently followed the footsteps before us
in the long Communion lines that shortened
in the years, fading as faith fallowed
in the forlorn rows of empty pews, prayer
but a light conversation in the bright rays
of the morning sun mourning forgotten vows
and the "Our Fathers" or "Hail Maries" recited
in contrition for sins we no longer believed
to "our" God of concise and convenient salvation.

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