Lit Holiday Poem Swap

Hockeytown

I know you know your Mini, but
Good God! your speed seems dangerous.

You speed through curves. You oversteer.
But, hockey? Well, then, I defer

To you, Don Cherry, and the North.
In puckishness, I know your worth.
 
The Origins of Myth

I thought to use Niobe
as your avatar, because your name
once implied tears.

But her destruction was due to pride,
and you are never prideful,
even of that art

you can no longer practice.
You are the one poet I would really
want to touch,

even if only to brush your fingertips,
lightly. Oh, and then,
to once again listen to your voice.
 
You're the startling crack
of pebble's strike on windshield
an unseen and unavoidable
clarion call to wake the fuck up
pay attention to what's right in front of you

You leave a mark
a reminder to look around
see who else is on the road
watch what they're doing
while you stay your course

And though it's doubtful
your fleeting presence
will make me a better driver
your mark will remain
until I'm ready for the scrap yard
 
Dear one

do you see me? Are you
there among the crowd
of stars playing open
tuning open heart,
lap steel sliding chords
to sag behind the beat, sad
but sweet like your blues?

You talked to flowers,
watched the sky the trees,
Sir Gawain my green
night is gray but I won't
let this blow away.

Your words are writ in me,
engraved on skin, spun
to bone. My darling love,
my dharma bum, now
I am your home.
 
Dear one

do you see me? Are you
there among the crowd
of stars playing open
tuning open heart,
lap steel sliding chords
to sag behind the beat, sad
but sweet like your blues?

You talked to flowers,
watched the sky the trees,
Sir Gawain my green
night is gray but I won't
let this blow away.

Your words are writ in me,
engraved on skin, spun
to bone. My darling love,
my dharma bum, now
I am your home.

.. See? this is why I hesitate to give poetic prezzies

Fréquence Jazz
Oh Maynard, turn up the shortwave
allusion dropped, thoughts fractured
[flashback, spotlight on a steaming cuppa chocolate]
minty affirmation
an excellent libation
shalom baby

.. one more

Bro
ever since your vehement prohibition
to address you in such informal communication
I've kept my mac handy in case it rains
and start all letters with, Dear Sir
 
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Damn good butters, damn good, apt descriptive and wistful tone, that I felt, at the absence of one of the most colourful and interesting poets (even though he claims he ain't one)I have had the pleasure of meeting.

.. nope not me if that's what you are implying, must be 1201 or the poet formerly known as Prince but I never knew he posted here
 
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Thank you all for participating. I'm loving what you've written so far and hope everyone feels welcome to join in and leave a gift (or a stocking full of them). :rose: :rose: :rose:
 
Dear one

do you see me? Are you
there among the crowd
of stars playing open
tuning open heart,
lap steel sliding chords
to sag behind the beat, sad
but sweet like your blues?

You talked to flowers,
watched the sky the trees,
Sir Gawain my green
night is gray but I won't
let this blow away.

Your words are writ in me,
engraved on skin, spun
to bone. My darling love,
my dharma bum, now
I am your home.

I was waiting for this! Sumptuous! Some where he's smiling a huge smile. :heart:
 
is


Only You

OT

Your quirky verse tickled my fancy
Just as it tangled my tongue.
Efforts you made, certainly chancy,
Always, I feel, quite unsung.

Do you still take month-long bike rides alone,
Carefully plotted and planned,
Visiting places and parts unknown
Cities, forests and farmland?

It’s a thrill when I see you appear
But then you’re gone in a flash.
Why you don’t stay is unclear,
Have you decided it’s balderdash?​
 
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Only You

Your quirky verse tickled my fancy
Just as it tangled my tongue.
Efforts you made, certainly chancy,
Always, I feel, quite unsung.

Do you still take month-long bike rides alone,
Carefully plotted and planned,
Visiting places and parts unknown
Cities, forests and farmland?

It’s a thrill when I see you appear
But then you’re gone in a flash.
Why you don’t stay is unclear,
Have you decided it’s balderdash?

Spanky paddle hands, too. :D:kiss:
 
Accidental Poet

If not for you
would I have written
words on a page
played with sounds
to make them sing
a song that
someone else might hear?

In truth
there is a piece of you
in each rhyme
regardless of reason

Watching you dance
with words enticed me
to discover my own grace
until the reader
chanced the writer
and I found a place
for me
on this stage
 
Accidental Poet

If not for you
would I have written
words on a page
played with sounds
to make them sing
a song that
someone else might hear?

In truth
there is a piece of you
in each rhyme
regardless of reason

Watching you dance
with words enticed me
to discover my own grace
until the reader
chanced the writer
and I found a place
for me
on this stage

Oh I like this, well played
 
Classy

Tzara

I see you as a connoisseur
of wine and food, expensive scotch,
of books and art and
women, you love women,
appreciating things feminine.

And I, in my way, appreciate you,
your poetry, sometimes whimsical,
often erotic and always,
always absorbing.
Your desire to inform,
educate in the nicest of ways,
delightful and valued.

Your voice, erudite and tweedy,
mature and composed seems
out of place in a site for porn
but you give it class.
Have a classy Christmas,
classy guy.

is

Incidental music
 
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Ten-Year-Late Thank You Note

You were the first to praise
My first submitted poem--
A "Master" and a "slave."
Their roles, although, were wrong.

You had them quite reversed;
My writing wasn't clear.
Your compliments, though, burst
My dread of posting here.

Wherever you have gone,
Wherever you may be,
Namaste to you, sir:
Peace and fine ale to thee.
 
Stirred Not Shaken

Dry as a martini
best imbibed slowly
to savor the pucker
that comes from the liberally
marinated onion
as I roll it over tongue
separate the layers
sink my teeth in
feel the buzz
as the alcohol hits
 
Cheers to you…..

The PFDF as a whole

Dish out the eggnog
here’s a toast to you
and to all your divergent ways.

Often supportive, occasionally disruptive,
irascible, irate, unfathomable.
You can educate, irritate, eviscerate.
Lovingly encouraging, spitefully uncovering,
you know who you are.

Sometimes envious, perhaps even jealous,
always creative, striving for improvement,
faithfully inventive, often talented
but never boastful, often diffident,
self-effacing.

Gender neutral, sundry subjects,
I never get tired of dipping in to
your stored poetry or opening up
a newly minted work.
So, keep on inventing,
creating,
writing
As the old year leaves
and 2016 begins.
 
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i'm having a hard time guessing to whom most of these are addressed :confused:
 
thankyou for that invitation
many years gone by
despite the gap, i found you here
so stayed to Lit test-drive

that simple little thing you did
has changed the way i live
the way i think, the way i feel,
the way i write and give

it's thanks to you i've had the joy
of meeting people here
who've touched my life in different ways
and found my love, my dear

so let me wish a little thing
a simple wish, it's true
i wish you merry christmas
and that '16's kind to you :kiss:
 
Love skills

There's a little girl on a mountain
who, looking up from her books,
looking out across the mists,
still bears his heat within her veins,
his lips upon her pulsing wrist.
She slides her pump-clad feet in time
to their beat, their happy beat,
their music hanging in the air
and snaps her fingers,
conjures his smile
as only a poet can...

she can do magic :rose:
 
when he picks up his pen
it's the start of a journey
where he takes each reader by the hand
drops them into a pizza booth or church pew
prison or palace
opens ears to accents
eyes to the carnage of big guns
hearts to the plights of others
minds to truth over history

he stares out the window as the sun hangs low
stirs equal measures of love and retrospection into his coffee
 
ever since i heard her voice
it sounds in every thing she writes
that luscious south

she plays her games like cat and mouse
and mouths a smile that's just for us
she dares us chance

from lowered sultry lids a glance
and dances word-to-word with glee
she fans the flames

a belle to ring, there's none the same
no shame, she prances on the bar
red-gartered gal :D
 
he's moved beyond the hammer and chisel
kicked the fragments from around his feet
laid down the plane, stroked the wood
time to step back 'n' breathe

time to take stock
to look in the mirror
to see past the sawdust and mica on his brow
to the sculpture he's wrought
passion in every line
scars and love shining
he's hand-crafted himself
as poet
 
seems she's only happy when she's bleeding
happy meaning writing, nothing more,
and bleeding meaning writhing in the
bliss of sin
although i'm pretty sure
there's more, much more of her to share
when and only when she's willing...

till then i wish her christmas cheer
a tainted christmas eve
a master's slap upon her butt
and bondage in her stocking :rose:
 
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