Chasin' Chickens

[My Erotic Trail]

the sun goes up
and the sun comes down
another rounding cheer

today is a day
and so was yesterday
but tomorrow
will be a new year

 

[My Erotic Trail]

snap
pop
crackle
'POW'

Tap
pip
tick
BOOM

Zoom
wap
shew
KABAM

Pap
pop
pop
pop
shearrrrrrr....

hAPPY nEW YEAR

 

[My Erotic Trail]

wind dancers

A tree limb twists,
turns and reaches out
like a hand
wanting nothing
more than
Sunshine,
is constantly
pushed to the side

racing for their lives
leaves
thunder in a marathon
to its end
some are captured
tangling with shrubs
wrestling
to get free

colorful clouds
drift by in flocks
like giant birds of paradise
pinkish-red
with fixed wings
sail by
disolving like Ghosts
as more appear
filtering the sun
creates a light show
in the meadow

white swirls
over the pond
little laps of water
brushed like a song
ripples
in tempo


The Bark ...
of Tall timbers
like Towering sentrys
sway and wave
tossing limbs
like attention 'getters'
whispering when
it is coming
long before you feel it
embrace you

The guardian,
gravity
subdues
all that is uplifted
by its prance
like a falling acorn
that bounces on blades
of rich green grass
and lay
dieing
to live

Which will one day grow
and reach out
to the sunshine
and it too
will ...
dance with the wind

 

[My Erotic Trail]

Lazy bones
feet like stones
an adhesive ass

limp legged
butt imbedded
watching time pass

chair perched
not caring much
not even the eyes dash

doing nothing
like rusting
knowing it won't last

 

[quasar]

wind dancers

A tree limb twists,
turns and reaches out
like a hand
wanting nothing
more than
Sunshine,
is constantly
pushed to the side

racing for their lives
leaves
thunder in a marathon
to its end
some are captured
tangling with shrubs
wrestling
to get free

colorful clouds
drift by in flocks
like giant birds of paradise
pinkish-red
with fixed wings
sail by
disolving like Ghosts
as more appear
filtering the sun
creates a light show
in the meadow

white swirls
over the pond
little laps of water
brushed like a song
ripples
in tempo


The Bark ...
of Tall timbers
like Towering sentrys
sway and wave
tossing limbs
like attention 'getters'
whispering when
it is coming
long before you feel it
embrace you

The guardian,
gravity
subdues
all that is uplifted
by its prance
like a falling acorn
that bounces on blades
of rich green grass
and lay
dieing
to live

Which will one day grow
and reach out
to the sunshine
and it too
will ...
dance with the wind

Some one is sprouting roots!


A twisting tree
in a gusting breeze,
dancing.

 

[My Erotic Trail]

Jalap

Arturo, the Jalapa Valley 'bug stomper'

Arturo lives wishing
he would turn fifteen
then he will be
a "Roller"
the highest honor in the land

Fumar Perfecto!
you either have the gift
or you do not
Arturo practices daily
with banana leafs
taught to him by 'grand papa'
who told him;

"You only have two choices in life,
to be a 'Roller'
and work in the cool sheds
or to be a worker
and work in the 'hot' fields.
I will teach you to be a great 'Roller'
then you can work where ever you want to."

the goal of most men
in the Jalapa Valley
an organic piece of heaven
that fell into Central America
and was lost in the jungles of Nicaragua

stepping knee deep in the fields
of jalap and candela
his roots planted in the same soil
picking the bugs up by hand
and stamping them out in the field

one hundred incests
brings a shiney new 'centavo' (cent)
at this rate
it will only take a year
to save enough money
for a pair of shoes
then he feels
he will be able to do a better job

tossing dirt clods
like handgrenades
at others
doing the same thing
working ...

'Bug Stomping'

 

[champagne1982]

Jalap

[snip]
one hundred incests
brings a shiney new 'centavo' (cent)
at this rate
it will only take a year
to save enough money
for a pair of shoes
then he feels
he will be able to do a better job[/snip]

I know you're going to say that all I see are negatives. I don't really. This is a wonderful poem MET, but you do have to admit, incest means something totally outside the context of this verse. Did you mean 'insects'?

 

[My Erotic Trail]

I know you're going to say that all I see are negatives. I don't really. This is a wonderful poem MET, but you do have to admit, incest means something totally outside the context of this verse. Did you mean 'insects'?

laughing my ass off...

wow, yes I did mean insects
<ha ha I just did it again when spelling it here ...laughing
I did not know they were so closely related <grin

thanks champ~

I actually do post my poems here before I submit for a day or two incase someone spots a flaw...(most times) looks as though it paid off this time...<still laughing> thanks

 

[My Erotic Trail]

Jalap

Arturo, the Jalapa Valley 'bug stomper'

Arturo lives wishing
he would turn fifteen
then he will be
a "Roller"
the highest honor in the land

Fumar Perfecto!
you either have the gift
or you do not
Arturo practices daily
with banana leafs
taught to him by 'grand papa'
who told him;

"You only have two choices in life,
to be a 'Roller'
and work in the cool sheds
or to be a worker
and work in the 'hot' fields.
I will teach you to be a great 'Roller'
then you can work where ever you want to."

the goal of most men
in the Jalapa Valley
an organic piece of heaven
that fell into Central America
and was lost in the jungles of Nicaragua

stepping knee deep in the fields
of jalap and habana
his roots planted in the same soil
picking the bugs up by hand
and stamping them out in the field

one hundred 'insects'
brings a shiney new 'centavo' (cent)
at this rate
it will only take a year
to save enough money
for a pair of shoes
then he feels he will be able to do
a better job

tossing dirt clods
like handgrenades
at others
doing the same thing
working ...

'Bug Stomping'

edited on several points

I still want to come up with an ending that makes a bug stomp sound like "Jalap" <grin


it was so funny I had to leave it on that post but repaired it here.

 

[My Erotic Trail]

Snipe

A wood-cock could
cock in the wood
like any cock should

fluttering in a fast spring
with vibrant wings
its a cocky thing

they rise
but never high
as they circle
in camouflaged disguise

cocked in the wood
a wood cock could
cock like any cock should

on a summers night
when romance is right
two lovers hunt the snipe

left holding the bag
is a just a gag
for cocks to be had

a cock in the woods
wishing he could
do what the wood cock would​

 

[My Erotic Trail]

bury the ax
splitting wood
wedged
and swing
splintering wood

the wood pile grows
chopping the oak
they dont do this in the hood
splitting wood

 

[My Erotic Trail]

Madurito ...Madurito
I'm absorbed in you

Marisma rise
Madurito's demise
another breath drew

Madurito ...Madurito
your cherry burns bright

Passion sticks
licking my lips
tasting Maduritos with delight

 

[My Erotic Trail]

Love is...

is love a rose
to bud
blossom
and die?

or a vine
tightly nit
ready to climb?

is love a candle
it is lit
shines
untill the darkness rise?

or a cloud
that merges
then multiplies?

love is like leafs
each differs
falls
and fate decides
where it lies

Love is a current
either uplifting
and boyant
or it will
subside

Love is a hill
that hides
whats coming
just enjoy the ride​

 

[My Erotic Trail]

Love is...

is love a rose
to bud
blossom
and die?

or a vine
tightly nit
ready to climb?

is love a candle
it is lit
shines
untill the darkness rise?

or a cloud
that merges
then multiplies?

love is like leafs
each differs
falls
and fate decides
where it lies

Love is a current
either uplifting
and boyant
or it will
subside

Love is a hill
that hides
whats coming
just enjoy the ride​

idea for a poem from a poem
who would have thunk it?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Time to leave
the Parental tree
a leaf in the breeze

a helpful hand
from the wind
carried to its destiny

when it will settle
on another leaf nestled
under a family tree

 

[My Erotic Trail]

I have an axe to grind
chopping wood in the cold
to get warm

just call me a swinger
of brute force
driving into hard wood
wedged

sledge hammer blues
to push it through
my dreams of
modern times
an electric log splitter

 

[champagne1982]

Wood is nature's perfect fuel.

It warms you three times --

Once when you cut down the tree,​

again when you chop it and​

finally, you are warmed by the fire.​

 

[My Erotic Trail]

Wood is nature's perfect fuel.

It warms you three times --

Once when you cut down the tree,​

again when you chop it and​

finally, you are warmed by the fire.​

wow, carrie

I like that <grin...
and oh how I relate <smilin

 

[champagne1982]

Wood is nature's perfect fuel.

It warms you three times --

Once when you cut down the tree,​

again when you chop it and​

finally, you are warmed by the fire.​

wow, carrie

I like that <grin...
and oh how I relate <smilin

I must admit, that is not my wisdom but that of our family's German landlord.

We lived in the Schwartzwald for almost 5 years in an old farmhouse, keeping in mind that anything over 45 years old in that country in the 90's was remarkable in that it was still standing. This house was 89 years old, surviving both The Great War and The Second World War.

We had amenities: cold water plumbing, oil burners & wood stoves for heat, and as an added luxury in the bath, a wood-fired water heater. Each spring, after the Rhine flood was over, was wood cutting time. Our landlord and his sons would bring a horse drawn cart of rough hewn wood over to the barnyard and there, the men would begin to saw and chop it into size to fit the stoves.

Opa Walter would laugh and swab the sweat from his neck, inevitably uttering that comment, prompting his son to translate it to English. The laughter that followed was always genuine and apparently the appetite brought to the table was, too.

I realize how fortunate our family was to have had the chance to experience living in another country, what made us even more lucky was the way our German friends absorbed us into their culture and the broad circle of extended close friends.

 

[My Erotic Trail]

I must admit, that is not my wisdom but that of our family's German landlord.

We lived in the Schwartzwald for almost 5 years in an old farmhouse, keeping in mind that anything over 45 years old in that country in the 90's was remarkable in that it was still standing. This house was 89 years old, surviving both The Great War and The Second World War.

We had amenities: cold water plumbing, oil burners & wood stoves for heat, and as an added luxury in the bath, a wood-fired water heater. Each spring, after the Rhine flood was over, was wood cutting time. Our landlord and his sons would bring a horse drawn cart of rough hewn wood over to the barnyard and there, the men would begin to saw and chop it into size to fit the stoves.

Opa Walter would laugh and swab the sweat from his neck, inevitably uttering that comment, prompting his son to translate it to English. The laughter that followed was always genuine and apparently the appetite brought to the table was, too.

I realize how fortunate our family was to have had the chance to experience living in another country, what made us even more lucky was the way our German friends absorbed us into their culture and the broad circle of extended close friends.

that reminds me of Paul Peter telling tales of Hungary
I wrote a poem, "...the lucky ones" he told me of Germany's invasion of Russia as a boy watching the Germans roll through Hungary proud and in force. Then watched them walk back to Germany half dead and dieing in very small groups.

My father was in the air force and we moved around alot but I remember being about 10 and helping carry and 'attempt' chopping the wood for a couple winters, then we moved to an apartment and there was no fire place, I was concerned how we would stay warm. They explained central heat but I just didn't understand. Then winter came and wow, it was warm and no wood chopping in the cold.

Now my mother will turn up the air conditioner just to have a fire <grin.... I keep three house holds and my step father's mill works shop stacked full of chopped wood. I have more trees than I know what to do with on 26 acres. I enjoy the work out but it seems to come on busy days <grin... I did get the wood pile back up to normal height this weekend.

sorry I got carrie'd away <grin

 

[My Erotic Trail]

old-timers

Old-Timers

He was here today
telling me about yester-year
of when he was a boy
hunting 'snipe' for supper
loading his shot-gun barrel with small nails
to increase his chances

chances are
it was one of his most memorable yesterdays

like yesterday
he asked 'where am I at?'
I said, 'Home!'
he asked, 'where is that?'
Mom says, 'Home is where the heart is'

chances are
he didn't remember that today

He toys with a fishing line
like he has forgotten what to do with it
family, the tie that binds
a rope with many strands
an old timer holds tightly to one

chances are
he won't be here too many more tomorrows

 

[My Erotic Trail]

falling from grace

Hanging by a heart string
refusing help
a cliff dweller dangles

absorbed in the 'crack'
focussed on nothing more
ignoring a helping hand

"I can't bare to watch you fall"
words from my mouth
as you invite me to join you

"I refuse to fall from grace
and worship a rock,
get your 'acts' together, brother."

You'd rather kiss glass
than embrace life?
taking 12 steps backwards

"I can't help it," you shout
I look you in the eyes
for a meeting of the minds

you turned and ran
in a trail of tears
falling from grace

 

[My Erotic Trail]

The Preacher and the Law Man

Riding stick horses side by side
shooting fingers and growing like weeds
chasing fast cars and driving loose women
laughing at maturity sprouting our 'brotherly' wings

you had dreams of being a rock n roll star
after the service I sat in Biker bars
You went to school and passed in sycodelic colors
I went coast to coast on an outlaw spree

I married and settled down, raising a family
I stayed so drunk I could never see
You found love that was like a rose
for beautiful flowers tend to not live long

I watched you drive a truck through a house
drinking 'downunder' for some southern comfort
The doctors said, "He is dead!."
years later I am still here

You now sing a chorus for the congrigation
the preacher
I became an Instructor of the 'Art'
a Law Man

two brothers stand, together again

 

[My Erotic Trail]

the stars
dreams
caught in a black velvet sky

then there is you
illuminating hope
the moon

 

[My Erotic Trail]

Desire's rise​

Darkness dims by the radiant glow of moon beams that filter through the curtained window. Casting slivers of reflective light that gracefully lay upon the bedding and sheets, highlighting the valleys of the fabric's wrinkles like thoughts and emotions unshared. Awakening a duet that slumbers.

Reaching for each other's passion and desires, stirring an emotional fire to bring forth the old flame. Tasting and savoring each other's flavors to fill the hunger that two lonely hearts share.

An acoustical chorus of light 'moans' and 'gasps' sound as flesh meets with flesh in a tight muscled refrain. Skin kissing skin while four lips press together. Eager tongues touch and rolled across each other like ladles, scooping, portions of love. Two hearts beating like fluttering wings of a dove taking flight.

The river of ecstasy bursts through the damn of self control and drains their passion driven current. Naked to the world, behind closed doors, in the shadows they lay in fullfillment. Watching the moon fade behind closing eyes as the lovers flame smolders and desires die.

 

[My Erotic Trail]

'Jay walking'
to the 'John'
straight as a crow flys

Day dreaming
instead of 'paying attention'
when I heard screeching 'rubbers'

Jack-knifed
me into a 'bed' of roses
then hauled off by the 'meat wagon'

they 'sewed' me up
'ship' me off
and sent me a 'Bill'