Archival Review

[LeBroz]

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A call for an impossible success that guarantees immediate failure and a future of being crushed.


Flight
by lexitopoi©


He asked her to spread wings,
to outshine Icarus.

'How could a sun harm
a nova, after all?'

So she rubbed her flesh
until skin was cinder,
took a leap of failure to
fall
through
branches,

land broken, burned,
among astounded roots,
and scorn raining like leaves.

'No, I said up, silly girl.
You never learn,
you never
learn.'

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[LeBroz]

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Another offering of innocence and tragedy that will stop you cold for a moment this morning.


Flippy
by BooMerengue©


You fell out when the book opened
Well not you silly!
I had forgotten you were here!

One fish! Two fish!
Red fish! Blue fish!
I hear your giggle near my ear.

Let me count your freckles again!
Mommy won't care!
green marker dots...52, 53, 54!

So you have a note? An invite
to an overnight? Can I go? No!?!
It's just boys??

And you have money, too,
In your pocket; 27 cents- wow!
A lot of gum!

And then a scream of brakes, a thud.
Thats all. Not much. So fast.

And you've been hiding here ever since.
In my book. 28 years.
Still giggling near my ear.

I haven't really forgotten, you know.


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[Angeline]

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Another offering of innocence and tragedy that will stop you cold for a moment this morning.


Flippy
by BooMerengue©


You fell out when the book opened
Well not you silly!
I had forgotten you were here!

One fish! Two fish!
Red fish! Blue fish!
I hear your giggle near my ear.

Let me count your freckles again!
Mommy won't care!
green marker dots...52, 53, 54!

So you have a note? An invite
to an overnight? Can I go? No!?!
It's just boys??

And you have money, too,
In your pocket; 27 cents- wow!
A lot of gum!

And then a scream of brakes, a thud.
Thats all. Not much. So fast.

And you've been hiding here ever since.
In my book. 28 years.
Still giggling near my ear.

I haven't really forgotten, you know.


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One of Boo's best. Thanks for reminding me of it. I hope that dear lady is well, wherever she is.

 

[LeBroz]

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Don't know that you'll ever see this fare on the Food Channel.


Floating
by smithpeter©


Above heavy hurt, beyond daisy smiles
Sick and grinning from the pain of too much chocolate
Pouring morsels, much smaller than kisses
Slight pecks

Ohhh, it hurts so good,
Every word we try bleeds batter,

So, do you want to make cookies,
Or do you just want to eat the dough?

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[LeBroz]

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Hope you can take this image this early in the morning. I keep coming up with an image of folk no longer young with too much stomach and too much ass, not seriously running, too engaged in a gabfest.


florida joggers
by Senna Jawa©

through the whole summer of liquid iron
we had been running every noon
day after day
mile after mile
some of us in sweat
some with a smile
this guy one step behind his stomach
another a step ahead of his own ass
it's not a thinking game
it's not chess
the slower the pace
the faster the tongues
degrading women spilling ethnic jokes

and so we run en masse
on the Peripheral Road
between the stomach and the ass​

wlodzimierz holsztynski ©
1983/1988


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[LeBroz]

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She just can't get away from her music. Sit back and enjoy her melody here.


Flower Moon
by Angeline©


The man in the moon
plays tenor.
Light beams.
Cool blues flowers
fall into ballads.

One gardenia lands
behind a Lady's ear,
whispers languid rhythms,
drags drifts of Stardust
behind the beat.

Fine and mellow,
that yellow light,
closes eyes.

Jazz blooms at night,
thick and luscious,
sulty scented lily tone.
Moon escapes its empty home,
slides down vines, beats,
snakes in golden boughs.

Moon moans.

Wish on jazz.
She loves me,
she loves me not.
She dances,
she dances bop,
uncurls, spoons
into later bliss.

O kiss the night,
jazz moon.
Soft tenor.
Petal kiss.


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[LeBroz]

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Surely not a good combination, shrikes and robins. Guess who's the meal.


Flues : curmudgeon
by RazzRajen©


each time
the bird circles high in the azure skies,
He takes another turn
....................................palpitating,
His nerves shot,
the bird is landing, what sees, eyes
little squeals of delight,

....................................cantankerous , raucous calls
of the shrikes

amidst it all He spies the
robin,
bird on a wire ,
stretched taut, yearning,
coming in ,
waiting as all would
slowly finding

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[LeBroz]

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Visions of the natural world engulfing him from her eyes. Tomorrow, another Razz poem to start the day followed by several challenge inspired poems.


Flues : Dank desires
by RazzRajen©


Flues down hillsides
He stood at the edge and looked down
who would take the plunge,
why should the curved paths
in subterranean caverns hold water?

......breakers cascade and dark wisps of ripples
fleet across the face of the water
...............................................scows move turgidly,

His thoughts turn over, lay,
limpid
......Pools of her eyes and dank desires
Cloud his mind.

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[LeBroz]

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Let's start off the weekend with one of Razz's bits of stylized kink.


Flying, finally
by RazzRajen©


That room.......end of the line
no exit and no turns
the light at the tunnel

Those sounds,
mewls, cries whimpers, groans
Those sounds,
Silent whispers through the air,
................cutting like a knife,
and more like a cane,

animal hides coursing
then striking
Welts , stripes, raised lines
................lay back and taking as she is

the Voice alone,
holding,
the sounds alone,
claiming.
her eyes locked on his face,
that expression transfixing,
a doe caught in the glare

she will never move
not when the lines drip,
not when the strikes
turn to soft splats
as the leather opens the inner

and why should she?
is that what He wants?
or what she needs?
Neither feeds alone,
each off the other.

skies, turning as the whorls of her mind,
mute and locked,
open slightly fill the air,
rent the ether.
Fly gloriously, finally

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[LeBroz]

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Going back five years, here are the surviving postings to Rybka's Roll Your Own Poem thread. The theme on it was Friend Of A Friend or Foaf. I'm putting up all that's left so you can see the variety of responses. This should take you to Tuesday morning, so enjoy.


Foaf
by darkmaas©


**The word is ugly and wants to die.
**The poem is dedicated to a fish called Rybka.




Foaf

Sea
Sea bed
Fish
Fish farts
Slowly.

An almost perfect gaseous sphere
Begins its journey
To the light.
Bound by Bernoulli’s chains,
It rises.

Slowly
Then with acceleration
‘Til terminal velocity.
Shy perfection
Distorted by eddy currents
And random thermal gradients.
Shimmering.

On the surface
Of our tiny orb
Photons play
Games of duality
And splash peacock blues and greens.
Iridium
A tiny universe
Of rainbow skies.

And then at last
Where air meets wave
Our tiny piece of eden
Its voyage over
Is torn asunder
By force of surface tension.

A gentle pop,
A subtle smell,
Flatulent.

Fart Of A Fish.

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[LeBroz]

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There's something compelling about reading a form poem, as though you feel you must follow the threads that are woven through, to see where they lead. Or patterns in a tapestry that the eye keeps seeking out.


Foaf
by JUDO©


--- a villanelle for Rybka's "friend of a friend" challenge ---

Two degrees removed from Fate's encrusted ax,
Our worries reflect the warm face's who'd hear
Like families from Shakespeare in their final acts.

Yet he who's injured seemed free of life's tax,
Unburdened by the weight of worry and tear,
Two degrees removed from Fate's encrusted ax.

At the hospital that night, we rubbed other's backs,
Fighting against the darkness that blossomed in fear
Like families from Shakespeare in their final acts.

A red light too soon blinked green in night's blacks,
Squealing tires spilling blood that brought us all here,
Two degrees removed from Fate's encrusted ax.

Lamentations echo that stop us in our tracks,
"Why are the ones taken first who're held so dear?"
Like families from Shakespeare in their final acts.

At last, the news falls and our quaking grows to cracks.
In life, he'd smile and wish us good cheer --
Two degrees removed from Fate's encrusted ax,
Like families from Shakespeare in their final acts.


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[LeBroz]

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And of course some took a light-hearted look at the challenge. We'll get a bit more serious in the morning with Lauren's response.


FoaF
by Mythos50©


FOAF

Foafing escapes my comprehend
Friend of another funny fish friend
Not so sure how this should end
May it will with button pressed send . . .

2/7/03

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[Angeline]

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And of course some took a light-hearted look at the challenge. We'll get a bit more serious in the morning with Lauren's response.


FoaF
by Mythos50©


FOAF

Foafing escapes my comprehend
Friend of another funny fish friend
Not so sure how this should end
May it will with button pressed send . . .

2/7/03

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Oh! Thank you for this! Mythos was great, wrote some great stuff. Another poet I miss.

 

[LeBroz]

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This makes the visit of a friend of a friend sound so enticing. Here's to friends!


Foaf
by Lauren Hynde©


A friend-of-a-friend
professionally
drops by my place
when the TV is on and
professionally
pokes at my brain
with stroboscopic lights

A friend-of-a-friend
professionally
holds my right hand
builds on my confidence
professionally
enshrouds me
in synthetic charms

A friend-of-a-friend
professionally
entrances
clandestinely plays
professionally
revolves in an arc
in my mind a motto for life

A friend-of-a-friend
professionally
taps on my shoulders
an educated rap
professionally
shapes symbols
of now foreseen victories

The eyes of
a friend-of-a-friend
professionally seek
my shirt's buttonholes
and a few scattered fragments
of my stylized response

And me
who have in my holes
all of my buttons
(I think there's a draught)
obliged for the visit
of the friend-of-a-friend

And after the trade-off
a friend-of-a-friend
without eyes-of-a-visit
or holes-for-the-buttons
professionally shoots
the final farewells
glacéed and well-mannered

That's what I will remember
when I maybe wake up

tomorrow.

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[LeBroz]

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Now here's one of the oddest responses to Rybka's challenge. A bit creative though some might doubt its being poetry.


Foaf
by HomerPindar©


Friend of a friend
Friend of a friend
Friend of a friend
Friend of a friend
Friend of a friend
Friend of a friend
Friend of a friend
Friend of a friend
Friend of a friend
Friend of a friend
Friend of a friend
Friend of a friend

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[Cordelia]

wow...

Weird to see my poems still being read.

It's been a couple years...

Nice to come back and read good new stuff and recall all this great writing and great poets. I'd almost forgotten how much I enjoyed reading Angeline, Boo, champagne, Lauren Hynde(!), Rybka, darkmaas, Senna Jawa... too many to list them all.

I learned so much when I hung out here... but life gets busy and goes on...

I hope to be back more often than occasionally.

Cordelia

 

[LeBroz]

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So nice to see that note from Cordelia. Perhaps it'll be our good fortune that she won't be such a scarce presence.

The final foaf piece is a light-hearted one that sounds like Angeline had a hand in coaxing it into being.


foaf or something
by rainbows end©


Foaf or something


A friend of a friend once said
She was never one to be led
Like a pig with a ring through its nose
Its Angeline’s fault this prose

I haven’t a clue what’s to do
Just know that I’m writing for you
I’m typing and laughing away
As it has to be in by today

So here’s to you Angeline
Undoubted poetry queen
Once again you roped me in
But this one should go in the bin………………..lol

~


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[LeBroz]

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A photographic hobby with a different image in mind perhaps.


focus
by laelia©


the lightness of
today is gone
with a breeze
blowing the moon
through my camera

I discard the image

replace it with
the blue lady
coolly serene
fire in her belly
crystal sharp heart

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[LeBroz]

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Here's a sample of tanka, a form of poetry older than haiku. It also has a form similar to haiku. While haiku is traditionally thought of as being composed of 17 syllables, arranged as 5-7-5, tanka has 31 syllables, arranged as 5-7-5-7-7. However, if you want to educate yourself further, you will find that both forms are about more than just syllable count. There are a number of sources you can check {thank you Goggle}. You can do a check at American Tanka for a quick history of the form and some samples. You will see plenty of samples that violate The Rules. Or try AHA! POETRY for its coverage of Tanka, including an interesting essay on What Is A Tanka?. Have fun exploring!


fogtanka
by Senna Jawa©

fog -- day
turned into
night

will there be
tomorrow?​

wh,
1997-7-7

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[LeBroz]

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Now let's try something a bit easier than tanka or haiku to create but where the reader still needs to be fully engaged.


folded image
by bluerains©


gentle openings separate
pathways behind
stray shadows
clinging to black tinged
blades of exit

thorns recoil
holding the stem
of memory
wrapping around
each withering
root stock
planted in
semblance of a rose..

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[LeBroz]

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Here's one of only three poems from this writer of prose, mostly in the Romance genre. This is a rather expansive piece, living out a full life for your enjoyment.


Following Paths
by ronde©


Following Paths

By ronde

In the still quiet hours of morning
When the house creaks and pops in the cold
I lay thinking of a life gone by
A life of following unknown paths

I was an explorer of the vast uncharted lands of the forest
Following cowpaths through the trees to see where they led
Reading the signs and guessing their makers
Choosing which fork to follow, pressing deeper into the unknown
Looking back to make sure the barn was still there

I was carried away on cattle drives by a pony named Trigger
Following my herd through the sprawling plains of the pasture
Stopping stampedes and driving the herd to water
Bringing them safely to the rail head in Abilene
When she had to be milked and I had to wash up for dinner

I embarked on the sea of life, a boy pirate in a sloop of dreams
Following the girl I loved in fourth grade who wouldn’t kiss me
Following the girl in seventh grade who did after the dance
Seven years later, following the path into another unknown
When we walked arm in arm from the church

I followed the concrete paths of college seeking knowledge
Finding a little and thinking it was all there was to know
Then following the soldiers in front of me through a far off land
And learning how little I really knew

The road to home, the maternity ward halls
The waxed checkerboard tiles of a grade school gym
I followed those paths into the unknowns of life
And lost a piece of myself on the white runner-path
I followed at my daughters wedding

Now, I follow paths through the wide eyes of my grandchildren
A big-game hunter, killing pop-can lions, tigers and bears
A chef, master to the little brown-eyed apprentice with curly hair
Telling her it’s all right to lick her fingers and put them back in the cookie dough

Their eyes see an old man who likes to take naps
Who gives bear hugs and tickles their cheeks with his moustache
An old man who follows them through their rambling journeys around the yard
In search of flowers for Grandma and bugs to watch

I like the man they see through their eyes
He’s a part of me forged by doing and tempered by failure
A follower of many paths through the wilderness of life
They let me lead them for a while, but not for long
Already they run ahead because they need to know for themselves

The old man is here, young man and boy, too
Following paths into the great unknown
The explorer now searches the dim caverns of antique stores
Searching for priceless treasures lost for ages

Trigger is gone and so is the herd, gone on the winds of time
The cowboy remains, changed, yet the same
Dressed in bright colors and lizard-skin boots
Dancing close with that same young girl
In a cowboy saloon with neon lights and two-for-one beer

The pirate still sails the unknown seas
Steering life through uncharted waters and reefs
Sailing safely through most, running aground on a few
Then finding the breach in the coral cage
And landing the wreck for repairs

They’re all still here, though some would laugh
They’ll be joined by others as time flits by
Following the paths of life to see where they lead
And choosing which fork to take next


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[LeBroz]

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With Grecian tones as fickle gods play mysterious games and mortals suffer fates unknown.


Fool's wager
by tungtied2u©


It was too easy
to not hear her voice
laughing in my ear today

as in months past.
today passed
with her absence

less than a whisper
but shriller than a scream.
the chill her leaving

has wrapped around my heart
extinguished a fire
which once burned so fierce.

Now pierced and deflated
with all spirit sapped
the questions abound

was our love but a trap
set by some sadistic Gods
wagering bets and setting odds

on how long we could last
and how blind we could be
as we tried one more time

to strive to survive
the vagaries of life
and find some happiness.


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[LeBroz]

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A bittersweet look at relationships that are never quite as easy as we might wish them to be.

It may have something to do with this poet's word choices in all her poems, but I rarely have problems with the flow of her poems, despite the usual lack of punctuation.


Foolish Me
by Curiouswife©


I’ll be going now
foolish me who ever thought
I could find someone in another world
and bring him into mine
wrap him up like a grand gift
and hear him scrambling about
laughing and playing inside
never wanting to be let out
Foolish me to ever think
my box could hole him up
that he wouldn’t find a crack
to slip his body through
that he’d be content in my darkness
close his eyes and live my dreams
that he would cherish being treasured
Oh silly, foolish me

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[LeBroz]

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By special request, here's this particular Good Friday poem. Not traditional in any sense, but then there's not much to be readily found in the archives for the Easter season, certainly nothing to match up to this piece; what's there is either too new or not all that special. This one has its own unique vision, so prepare to enjoy.


midnight on a good friday
by eagleyez©


scottish bass, hand drums,
sitar like a cloud, east--west hybrid, strange beauty-
siren magdeline
mary melody.

vestments
and pope hats
and confirmation
from church to church-

i feel jesus, i see mosques, synagogues, rehabs,
i look at the river
i read the sermon on the mount
i watch politics
and machine guns
slung over
camoflauged backs, pass no judgement but listen to the violin.

the old irish priest
slugged me in the gut
cause i spilled the
holy wine
on good friday, alter boy ready to rock-1968

the house was packed
the PA was broken
the confessional
was empty

but the congregational faces
haunt me like
kids at a punk show

knockin into my mic stand
and chippin my tooth, and
i turned the other
cheek,

put my foot on
the monitor
and held
back the revenge-

ended up sitting on the
rickety stairs
outside
under the stars.

holy thursday
good friday,
lovely saturday-so they say-
think i will drive to the ocean,
see if the rock rolls back.


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[LeBroz]

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Here's a short piece to give you something to think on.


Foolish One
by islandman©


They say old men die wisely
And young men live foolishly
I live in my vanity
With fool's gold and a fool's love
As my mirror
Have pity for me then
For I am neither young nor wise
Living in my alternate reality
Conceiving and deceiving with equal clarity

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