Poetry in Progress ~ construction zone

[echoes_s]

have i posted this one yet?


is it any good? Too sugary?
Not used to talking in this language yet

uhmm, might be useful to actually post it...


kiss of the land

can you not feel
the swell of land
the brogue of sea
caress winds lexis
become one with trees
what a sweet embrace
for the breeze to flow through
not an obstacle but a part pulse
its heart beat
the ponderous swing
sweeping from the sun
night wrapped around
not enveloped
spicy scent of leaves
dust upon the eve
pieces of you
blowing with the wind
earth sliding through
the soles of your feet
deep, quiet, and cool
night filling you
this is not death
but true life
a bounty of gifts
without shield
your voice spills out in a sigh
that mingled with the wind
spice-laden kiss

 

[SeattleRain]

hi echoes-s!
I have not read this yet--

my simple minded suggestion:

give some line breaks, a breath or two here and there

you know I am a sucker for a short poem, you might consider (or not!) cutting out what might be redundant--?

zzzzzI am sooo sleepy

but I did finish my damn purple poems

lol

have i posted this one yet?


is it any good? Too sugary?
Not used to talking in this language yet

uhmm, might be useful to actually post it...


kiss of the land

can you not feel
the swell of land
the brogue of sea
caress winds lexis
become one with trees
what a sweet embrace
for the breeze to flow through
not an obstacle but a part pulse
its heart beat
the ponderous swing
sweeping from the sun
night wrapped around
not enveloped
spicy scent of leaves
dust upon the eve
pieces of you
blowing with the wind
earth sliding through
the soles of your feet
deep, quiet, and cool
night filling you
this is not death
but true life
a bounty of gifts
without shield
your voice spills out in a sigh
that mingled with the wind
spice-laden kiss

 

[SeattleRain]

echoe_s

I llove the lady in your av

can you tell me about her?

I had a necklace of her
she is so beautiful

venus of ???

I can never remember

she is the model I used for all my clay ladies I used to have perching all around my house on small horizontal surfaces like door frames in different colored browns

sorry my trip down memory lane

I love your new AV

 

[echoes_s]

yeah, just tried this


kiss



can You not feel

the swell of land

the brogue of sea

caress winds lexis

become one with trees



what a sweet embrace

for the breeze to flow through

not an obstacle but a part pulse

its heart beat



the ponderous swing

sweeping from the sun

night wrapped around

not enveloped

spicy scent of leaves



dust upon the eve

pieces of You

blowing with the wind

earth sliding through

the soles of Your feet



deep, quiet, and cool

night filling You

this is not death

but true life

a bounty of gifts

without shield



Your voice spills out in a sigh

that mingled with the wind

spice-laden kiss

 

[SeattleRain]

as a nervous watcher of particularly scary movies

I have been known to um

eat my buttered and salted napkin
withuot realizing it
if you write a poem on it, I would gladly eat yours too


I love this Angeline, I wonder how many of us were told things like this

I know it rang true in my mind

art is a nice hobby BUT...

Like any Wednesday
driving and polite
smiles and real people
in there past the gulf
of daily but it's hard
to be seen there

where we all wear
our masks of fine
and time is the second
hand time is needing
someone else's
money just to eat
you can't eat poems

my father would say
you can't eat books
and I would gladly
nourish only my soul
if I could
if I could

 

[SeattleRain]

good god girl! You are fast!

and that is so much better for me lol thank you!


<---the selfish reader


hehe I think it will be easier for many others to follow along without passing out , forgetting to breathe

yeah, just tried this


kiss



can You not feel

the swell of land

the brogue of sea

caress winds lexis

become one with trees



what a sweet embrace

for the breeze to flow through

not an obstacle but a part pulse

its heart beat



the ponderous swing

sweeping from the sun

night wrapped around

not enveloped

spicy scent of leaves



dust upon the eve

pieces of You

blowing with the wind

earth sliding through

the soles of Your feet



deep, quiet, and cool

night filling You

this is not death

but true life

a bounty of gifts

without shield



Your voice spills out in a sigh

that mingled with the wind

spice-laden kiss

 

[echoes_s]

lol, thanks Seattlerain

sometimes it comes out of me so fast...i can't stop it, other times nothing makes sense...duh

 

[lipsticksunset1984]

2nd draft

-

 

[The Mutt]

I usually work in the 'cogitate and expectorate' style. I am not used to 'working' a poem and I have a very hard time "killing my darlings."
But this is something that I think can say more than I'm saying.
Your comments are welcome. This is the first draft.



Slave, child of slaves,
kneeling,
counting on his beaded chains
as they lead to the cross,
old, rugged slave
on his knees at the feet of the corpse
of the one
he was counting on
for rescue,

Granted one book
by his Lord and his Master,
one book above all,
cracking the spine and clawing the margins,
scouring the footnotes
for a loophole written by a bead of blood
on a thorn,

Kneeling in the furrows,
singing songs of songs,
call and response
and waiting,
sweat beaded on his furrowed crown
like blood on a savior,
waiting
kneeling
unseen and unheard,
unseeing, unheard of,
not a prayer in the world
of rescue.

 

[tungtied2u]

City Sunrise 1st draft

City Sunrise

Day breaks
you stand on your front stoop
yawn
stretch
absorb dawn’s chorus
and several bullets
as staccato gunfire
traces day’s light
along your street
sunrise pinks
and sunset reds

 

[tarablackwood22]

3rd draft

-

 

[Liar]

Time for some rhyming... But I need input on the meter here, it feels a little rough, and I'd appriciate if someone could read it and let me know where ya stumble. I'm not looking for perfect iambic rhythm, but I think it needs improvement.



apologetic poetry

now that I've finished my yelling and spitting
bitter bad coffee stains straight in your face

over some matter that just doesn't matter
will you swallow your pride and grant me the grace

of a wide open door and a bent open heart
will you now let me grovel to pay for my nerve

let me stutter and mumble, please let me be humble
rain motherly scolding that scoundrels deserve

don't take it by force, and I'll feed you regret
through a filter of deeds so impeccably pure

an apolgy strung over measureless time
swing the pendulum back, and I'll sputter some more

 

[A Desert Rose]

apologetic poetry

now that I've finished my yelling and spitting
bitter bad coffee stains straight in your face

over some matter that just doesn't matter
will you swallow your pride and grant me the grace

of a wide open door and a bent open heart
will you now let me grovel to pay for my nerve

let me stutter and mumble, please let me be humble
rain motherly scolding that scoundrels deserve

don't take it by force, and I'll feed you regret
through a filter of deeds so impeccably pure

an apolgy strung over measureless time
swing the pendulum back, and I'll sputter some more

Your poem really hit my target... I know some of these feelings. I've been having them all morning.

And this morning I wrote this about that:

Mistakes were made,
far too many.
And all were mine.
Would I change things,
could I relive those hours?
Perhaps changing things
would disrupt the karma.
There's a reason
God won't let you
relive history.

I'm sorry for everything.
But does it matter to you?
Do you even know
I have things to be sorry for?
Would it matter if I told you?
I want to say I'm sorry.
Maybe it's best
to just stay absent.
But how can I be absent
when I'm not missed?
I know I'm not a thought
in your mind.
Why are you in mine?
I know you feel no regrets.
Why do I?

Because one of us cares
and one of us doesn't.
And therein to all questions,
is the answer.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Liar, I like your poem just as it is. I can't add any suggestions because frankly, I'm not that good.

 

[lipsticksunset1984]

4th draft

-

 

[fawnie]

Re: 4th draft

hour of the pearl



not quite morning
contends
with the eastern side of darkness,
its black over
but day unstarted, nighttime
selfish with its foothold.

the hour of the pearl,
caught between end
and beginning,
infused with the special starglow
of understanding that light
can shine before ascension
with perfect roundness and hue,
created
for the motions of memory.

but will it be clement?

and where are the tables
that bear the lamps
of such answers,
the wood on which gavels
of fairness
are struck?

there are no just shadows
or assaults on this silence,
a suspension
that moves things
as time stops
and ghosts abuse liberties,

leaving me chewing the charred ends
of burned moments,
seeing what is not,
waiting
for a cavalier judge
to draw his verdict.

this is your dominion, the world
where you now move and sing, you
who have not moved or sung
for years,
in the winter quiet
of almost dawn,
dancing
for my eyes,
free and circular

waltzing
across the palm of god,
freezing the sun
below its waking
so the flash of heaven
will not spoil your image.

stay, or
must stars march once more?

only one sits now in the sky,
the oyster’s gem,
to lead that loop
of sacred things.

none of that does justice
to the centered chime of children,
souls that spiral in song
toward half-light,
but it moves my hand.

I carve frost, trace you
on glass, the jut
of hip, curve
of shoulder bone,
little feet sliding
in grace
on divine lifeline
as you move
toward the rising smile of day.

I know your body, your lips
that fed
from my breast,
your eyes
that read me like maps, and

you are not here
to torture my finger
or sway away the daybreak
with sketched promenade,
but to announce
that you still live,
somewhere,
trapped
at the orange end of night.



reverence - new poem....please read.

MORE AND MORE CLARITY WITH EACH REWRITE ..HAS MADE THIS SO STUNNINGLY BEAUTIFUL..this is so wonderful, even though its so sad.

 

[ag2507]

Re: City Sunrise 1st draft

City Sunrise

Day breaks
you stand on your front stoop
yawn
stretch
absorb dawn’s chorus
and several bullets
as staccato gunfire
traces day’s light
along your street
sunrise pinks
and sunset reds

Suggest:

Day breaks
on the front stoop
yawn
stretch
absorb dawn’s chorus
and several bullets
as staccato gunfire
traces day’s light
along your street
sunrise pinks
and sunset reds


The you and your both break the tension and make the place to fixed: you have your street later on - your hitting the nail three times where once is enough

A

 

[ag2507]

apologetic poetry

now that I've finished my yelling and spitting
bitter bad coffee stains straight in your face

over some matter that just doesn't matter
will you swallow your pride and grant me the grace

of a wide open door and a bent open heart
will you now let me grovel to pay for my nerve

let me stutter and mumble, please let me be humble
rain motherly scolding that scoundrels deserve

don't take it by force, and I'll feed you regret
through a filter of deeds so impeccably pure

an apolgy strung over measureless time
swing the pendulum back, and I'll sputter some more

Suggest:


now that I've finished my yelling and spitting
bitter bad coffee stains straight in your face

over some matter that just doesn't matter
please swallow your pride and grant me the grace

of a wide open door and a bent open heart
will you now let me grovel to pay for my nerve

let me stutter and mumble, please let me be humble
rain motherly scolding that scoundrels deserve

don't take it by force, and I'll feed you regret
through a filter of deeds so impeccably pure

an apolgy strung over measureless time
swing the pendulum back, and I'll sputter some more


== The two matters are an interesting idea but the way you have them makes the ear stop listening so the next stanza is lost...

Easy fix:
over some matter which matters so little

Harder fix, just eliminate one matter

V Hard fix, repeat the idea, either using a pair of matters in the last stanza or repeat a word with a similar pun elsewhere

 

[tungtied2u]

Re: Re: City Sunrise 1st draft

Suggest:

Day breaks
on the front stoop
yawn
stretch
absorb dawn’s chorus
and several bullets
as staccato gunfire
traces day’s light
along your street
sunrise pinks
and sunset reds


The you and your both break the tension and make the place to fixed: you have your street later on - your hitting the nail three times where once is enough

Thanks for the advice. It's not the first time I've be told I'm redundant (not meaning laid off, for all you Brits). Youu know, I repeat things.
A

 

[tungtied2u]

City Sunrise 2nd draft

City Sunrise 2nd draft

Day breaks
front stoop stretch
and yawn

Absorb dawn’s chorus
and several bullets
rat-a-tat
punctuates
swallow’s song

Traces shadow’s fall
along your street
sunrise pink
and sunset reds
at your feet

 

[The Mutt]

Suggest:


now that I've finished my yelling and spitting
bitter bad coffee stains straight in your face

over some matter that just doesn't matter
please swallow your pride and grant me the grace

of a wide open door and a bent open heart
will you now let me grovel to pay for my nerve

let me stutter and mumble, please let me be humble
rain motherly scolding that scoundrels deserve

don't take it by force, and I'll feed you regret
through a filter of deeds so impeccably pure

an apolgy strung over measureless time
swing the pendulum back, and I'll sputter some more


== The two matters are an interesting idea but the way you have them makes the ear stop listening so the next stanza is lost...

Easy fix:
over some matter which matters so little

Harder fix, just eliminate one matter

V Hard fix, repeat the idea, either using a pair of matters in the last stanza or repeat a word with a similar pun elsewhere

Over some little matter that just doesn't matter.

Sounds better aloud to me, which is my test.

 

[The Mutt]

Re: 3rd draft

Editing 7/9

hour of the pearl

not-morning
contends
with the eastern side of obscurity,
its black over
but day unstarted, darkness
selfish with its foothold.

the hour of the pearl,
caught between end
and beginning,
infused with the special glow
of understanding that light
can shine before ascension
with perfect roundness and hue,
created
for the motions of memory.

but will it be clement?

and where are the tables
that bear the lamps
of such answers,
the wood on which fairness
is dealt?

there are no just shadows
or assaults on this silence,
a suspension
that moves things
as time stops
and ghosts abuse liberties,

leaving me chewing the charred ends
of burned moments,
seeing what is not,
waiting
for cavalier justice to draw a flush.

this is your dominion,
where you move and sing, you
who have not moved or sung
for years,
in the winter quiet
of almost dawn,
dancing
for my eyes,
free and circular

waltzing
across the palm of god,
freezing the sun
below its waking
so the flash of heaven
will not spoil your image.

stay, or
must stars march once more?

only one sits now in the sky,
the oyster’s gem,
to lead that loop
of sacred things.

none of that explains
the centered chime of children,
souls that spiral in song
toward half-light,
but it moves my hand.

I carve frost, trace you
on glass, the jut
of hip, curve
of shoulder bone,
little feet sliding
in grace
on divine lifeline
as you move
toward the rising smile of day.

I know your body, your lips
that fed
from my breast,
your eyes
that read me like maps, and

you are not here
to torture my finger
or sway away the daybreak
with sketched promenade,
but to announce
that you still live,
somewhere,
trapped
at the orange end of night.

I like the orange end of night. It reminds me of the band of fire across the horizon when the sun sets in the ocean.

 

[ag2507]

Over some little matter that just doesn't matter.

Sounds better aloud to me, which is my test.

Yep, the 'little' makesall the difference

A

 

[tarablackwood22]

Yep, the 'little' makesall the difference

A

Agreed.

 

[Liar]

Agreed.

Ditto. Thaks for the input, everyone. I'll so polish now.

#L

 

[tarablackwood22]

5th draft....

-