Hi Ku Cat

[HarryHill]

At last the damn things done,
and if you had to do it again,
np, now paint and words boil
dry in fire pots,
just before the ones gone,
lost in contemplation of a curl of cherry,
a brush is loaded with the others thick pigment,
absently tortures clay

 

[HarryHill]

The music's such a nice gift,
purported to be the angst of an angry chick
listen, listen for hours
put it away safe in a box
so I can find it again

 

[butters]

somedays
she's a book of grey pages
faded pressed flowers
the empty perfume bottle
its stopper lost long since
the song thrush that's lost
its voice to the canary
with its bright sunshine splash
the dormouse fit for nothing more
than a fuzzy block in a cracked teapot

and rather than the fall-muddied field
she's sure he hankers for the green and the lush
the crackle of flames
the dance of fire-sparks across a midnight sky
a cornucopia of scents arranged in colours
to dazzle his senses
and sweet voices raised, relaying passion's sear....

on those days when the fog is just an absence of processed input
she frets he grows too bored
might forget their tune
the steps to their dance
the drumbeat of hearts...

kissing silver
finger drawing gold lines across amethyst
she looks up
falls into his blues
knows he remembers
and fires are only banked
not snuffed

 

[badkitteh]

Ouch!
Another splinter
Back to the ER

 

[HarryHill]

who needs paris? not i

had my fill of cities
concrete and glass
the constant noise
of people
the stench of traffic
the hubub, the toil
and the sorrow for trapped trees
planted as 'statements'
in singular status
lone things of beauty
roots confined to a box
joy and natural beauty sucked dry by
towering walls of glass and steel
warning signs and hubris

my country heart can't wait
to come home
country ears need to hear
the breathing of the seasons

..
The garden of Eden'snot some English park
brought to page by artists eye
'tis rough and contrary, hot and airy,
too dry sometimes too wet,
no home for imp or fairy,
just us poor creatures Gods left to care
for this corner of earth placed in our charge

 

[HarryHill]

I know, I know love
a lifetime of imprisonment
in greater London's tenements

A Kutapilliar hears seasons sound,
changes to chrysalis and shows soon the sign
of eager movement, itching inside
the poetry wrapped paper in which she resides

I wonder who will be the most surprised
when the pupal case is split, you emerge, wings dry,
words form and then fly over these sometimes green hills,
beautiful rare creature, caretaker,
those that see her soar where there was none before
to call the wind, 'Come lift me up that I might see
all my love has pledged to me.'

 

[HarryHill]

The cherry tree blooms in late October,
strange thing how the weathers changed
strange times, strange lights over the Cedar
low in the Western sky

 

[HarryHill]

somedays
she's a book of grey pages
some a bird surveying a tree
always front and center my thoughts
no matter the image portrayed
eyes full of here and there

Some days she's a birds wing,
sculptured grass cuttings laid on the long lawn,
'twix blueberries and apple trees set sentry for the dawn,
viewed in the falling evenings light cast from here to there

 

[butters]

some days are crowded
all hustle-bustle
tactical political entrepreneurial
but no matter how busy
there are always odd moments of peace
when i turn and catch his presence
his wink or smile
hovering
before it evaporates like the cat's grin
as life presses onwards
the world spins
his closeness carries me

 

[HarryHill]

The torture of your love
how it flays my skin,
rends flesh from bones,
heals me

 

[butters]

The torture of your love
how it flays my skin,
rends flesh from bones,
heals me

charred bones, crack-marrow
sweet grease and soot
bright blades of fresh new growth
spring from the ash

 

[butters]

light's slipping from the damp and mizzling day
that never changed from any hue but grey
and hung a softened suede that seemed as made
to act as perfect foil to flaming leaves
on burning boughs lit orange, yellow, red
and all those mellow shades of inbetween
highlighted by the stoic evergreens
still holding to their varied shapes of leaf

the starlings wheel and bicker overhead
their actions voice belief in seasons' turn
they cluster, robbing berries from their stems
as all around them woodland colours burn

 

[butters]

that time of year when days are growing short

such creatures, we, of light and shade
imperatives bred deep within
to eat to sleep and eat again
'fore winter shuts its frigid door for
good, and we - as all god's creatures should -
hibernate like furry logs of wood
stacked cellar-deep to dream the dark away
though solid roofs and fires are at hand
to keep the ice's bitter bite at bay

 

[HarryHill]

He said he wouldn't do it,
pick up those brushes,
open the oils,
set close thinner and glaze,
but pencil runs rampant at the streamside
preparing for silver grey, olive green,
and he thinks he might

 

[butters]

 

[HarryHill]

I need cake

 

[HarryHill]

He said he wouldn't do it,
pick up those brushes,
open the oils,
set close thinner and glaze,
but pencil runs rampant at the streamside
preparing for silver grey, olive green,
and he thinks he might

..
Tens of hours past the first stroke,
days of study then comes the ink
pencil, think

He said he wouldn't do it,
obsess on the aesthetics
carry a line past its obvious conclusion
suggestion of more unseen below waters edge,
behind palmate leaves, sun splattered,
shadowed man, withy in hand,
waiting for a hint to turn to fish

 

[HarryHill]

There's a half-moon above us love,
halfway 'cross the sky tonight.
I found a quarter on the earth,
where no rake had touched the ground for some time,
some time immeasurable beyond the thirty one years the coin foretold
and the coming of man.
I added this tiny bit of silver to our assets

 

[butters]

There's a half-moon above us love,
halfway 'cross the sky tonight.
I found a quarter on the earth,
where no rake had touched the ground for some time,
some time immeasurable beyond the thirty one years the coin foretold
and the coming of man.
I added this tiny bit of silver to our assets

i love this

 

[HarryHill]

i love this

.. really?
On the cusp of this election,
well sedated to receive all news of impending victory,
defeat,
I don't want things to change,
just get better

 

[rawsilk]

Trump won!
What fun!
New Gun.
More jobs.
Road gang.
Build wall.
Mexicans out.
Learn Russian.
Kill Islam
Market down
Gold Up!
Prepers' relief.
Hoarded Food.
Party time!
Great Again?
Forget School.
Anarky rools.
God's bothered.
Unwanted kids.
Tariff Added.
Stuff's expensive.
Hillary jailed.
Barbie Dolls.
Don Dolls.
Barbie Whitehouse.
Painted pink.
Deplorables Unite!
Toothless Grins.
Empty beer bottles.
Domestic Violence.
Dirty streets.
Falling Empires
Women's rights?
Right Punch!
Healthy Nation?
Backyard Abortion.
Dying women.
Who cares?
Plenty more!
Animal cruelty.
MacDonald's Rules.
Gallon Cokes
Sugar Wins!
Subsidized Corn.
Hospitals full?
Tough Luck!
I'm loaded.
Not Taxed.
Trump won!
What fun!
Repeated myself.
Burp!

 

[HarryHill]

Post electoral depression,
Our country's headed in the wrong direction
cheered on by misogynists and little boys,
brain dead arsonists playing with fire,
shift over and load everything you've got,
and feed that queasy feeling it wont get better
with cranberry white cheddar on a flaky croissant,
coffee de riguer, paranoia no charge

 

[todski28]

Post electoral depression,
Our country's headed in the wrong direction
cheered on by misogynists and little boys,
brain dead arsonists playing with fire,
shift over and load everything you've got,
and feed that queasy feeling it wont get better
with cranberry white cheddar on a flaky croissant,
coffee de riguer, paranoia no charge

Will share a hot cup of bitter coffee
choke it down
to be with friends
as we mourn what may be
based on what was
trumped by insanity
and reality tv

 

[HarryHill]

such creatures, we, of light and shade
imperatives bred deep within
to eat to sleep and eat again
'fore winter shuts its frigid door for
good, and we - as all god's creatures should -
hibernate like furry logs of wood
stacked cellar-deep to dream the dark away
though solid roofs and fires are at hand
to keep the ice's bitter bite at bay

..
Wee Mousies got a den,
down by the rock wall, safe from the wind,
dug under a stone with the yard swept clean,
welcome mat of earth laid out for when
spring comes knocking after this nap

 

[rawsilk]

Reality TV is so much fun and informative!
Love sitcom with its witty repartee, fine oration.
I laugh out loud, when there's pie into face!
Cookery shows are truly an education.
There should be more food fights in cookery shows.
Food fights in cookery shows would make them perfect in my TV Guide!
TV helps convey and reflect the way we should be living.
TV helps us with our dietary choices and how we should spend our money.
Television tells us many things, how to think, what we should be thinking.
How to run our own lives in a thoughtful and self reflecting way.
And who would make the best leaders.
Homer Simpson is engrossed in the TV, beer by his side, DOH!
Pity Homer is just a cartoon character.
He could have been a real contender with Barbie by his side!
How on earth can they say that our population is being dumbed down?
I watch docos on TV, surely that broadens the mind?
We educate ourselves by watching nightly news.
News is so unbiased, balanced and with such truthful content.
There seems to be a constant thread, running through this mordant piece!
What it is just escapes me, let me try to think?
Forget it, just too hard!
I'm bored, let's turn on the TV, and see what there is to watch!