Poetry in Progress ~ construction zone

[tungtied2u]

City Sunrise

City Sunrise 3rd draft

Day breaks
front stoop stretch
and yawn

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

Car wheels
skirt shadow’s fall
along your street
glimpse sunrise pink above
to sunset red
at your feet

 

[tungtied2u]

Distant sister

Distant Sister 1st draft

Distant sister
in storm tossed straits
treading
slowly sinking
take heart
hear my voice

I send words
thundering whispers
to inspire weary spirits
calming verse
to soothe the storm
soften its lashes
shelter you

Despair not
grasp instead
lyric’s line
affection’s echo
Let me lift you
cradle you with
loving thoughts

 

[Syndra Lynn]

Re: Distant sister

Distant Sister 1st draft

Distant sister
in storm tossed straits
treading
slowly sinking
take heart
hear my voice

I send words
thundering whispers
to inspire weary spirits
calming verse
to soothe the storm
soften its lashes
shelter you

Despair not
grasp instead
lyric’s line
affection’s echo
Let me lift you
cradle you with
loving thoughts

This is such a wonderful sentiment! I swear I have dewey eyes. Lifting and inspiring one another is what I love about this group. Check out Path from Sadness . It's a similar thought flow.

I have been going through a lot lately and I need to come back here to ground myself. Hope to find time to write soon, or at least read. I look forward to Wednesday so I get a breath of poetry fresh air.

You are in my heart and I send warm wishes across the continent to you.

Syn

 

[fawnie]

1st draft mama

 

[echoes_s]

Francine

Her mailbox painted brushed
midnight blue,
scattered of flaxen
stars and moons,
“Francine is in”
in silver looped script

while the wind
whispered lark, loon,
flockless feathers
in a battered trailer
down by the river swing
daring trees to tangle

In the summer
sprays of goldenrod
and jewelweed weaved
added luster, mystery.

nameless shanks of
rusting metal
poked through dirty snow,
lost and given up
the first I came to meet her,
…a calling

trees wasted and scabbed,
leaves hung from limbs
like rotten bandages

i was never able
to quite reach inside,
caress her broken heart
as her ghost blue eyes
still whispered
the predilection her own
son’s death,
young…

she gazes so long
letting you see
everything
that you react
letting out your own personality
before the cover
she had the vision

Inside white circles
painted the floor,
shimmered red coats
differentiated
into hundreds of icons;
charms, pentacles, scarabs,
horseshoes, crosses
and devil’s masks

The Horus Eye,
a Plaster-of-Paris
ascending dove

Dolls twisted from corn husks
leather layered
and stretched to cure,
the old fashioned way

hand stitched moccasins,
caring scattered
beads of mystery
with meaning

Dream catchers bent
from bittersweet,
necklace of cowry shells
and a rosary of sharp blue stones.

Snow White,
George and his dragon,
the head of my pretty pony unicorn,
Virgin Mary’s,
some with Christ child.

A curtain of crystal flickering
rainbows over light
and a plush red lazy-boy
sitting alone in the center.
The ceiling above glittered
a galaxy of miniature twinkles,
all constellations,
astrological signs

Her hands delicate,
clever nails painted too perfect,
almost fake.
and voice speaks with trembled husk
hypnotizing unaware

“I see an aura pale
nudged by the past,
flashes of sulphur,
anger swelled,
careful dear,
you are one of us,
ambering.
Stay awhile and let me show you”

My laughter of fear,
denial flowed disbelief
the first time,
a thought slipping of truth

Yet the first i told a story
to someone without her
understanding

I pushed it away
except for the moccasin of fleet
made especially for me

my gypsy bag
a safe keeping for insane
home for mute
closed inside
a locked pyramid

 

[Tathagata]

5 corners 1st draft

.....

 

[fawnie]

1st draft

 

[Tathagata]

3rd write

.....

 

[Liar]

1 st attempt -- too much prose?...

Royal Straight Blush

Poker - and pokers
pinned painful pitchers
against a cool they dare not blow.

Chocked focus liplocked
to beercans and Stoli shots,
trading clichés for clothing.
Close to ridiculous,
closer to reality
than any dumbstruck dream before.

"Califormian girls," they snigger
and leer affectionate
carbon copy buddy-up
locker room chuckles,
as if they even knew
a fraction of the truth,
carelessley cross-legged
before them.

The object of attention
sticks a taunting tongue
in preview display at them,
and send popcorn storms
their way, but with a
"yeah, I know" grin
cut from pursed pink lips

seated perfect
between button nose
and baby doll chin.

They know,
she knows...
Odds so dearly in favor,
two players united
against one, not even trying...
(well yeah, for faux fairness charade,
but who's counting?)

One pair, two pairs
and the last half
of one washed out pair
reveals a giggle,
and ten tickly toes wriggle.

Only two more hands
for four hands gripping,
almost ripping
aces and jacks,
in trembling hands.
Two more triumphs...

to game over,
and game on.

"My hand," she purrs and leans
over groans and fluttering hearts
to collect scattered hearts,
cloves, spades...

and feeds those diamond solid
immaculate promises
only minutes from delivery.

 

[Tathagata]

5 corners 2nd draft

.....

 

[tarablackwood22]

2nd draft

edited off

 

[fawnie]

3rd draft

 

[Tathagata]

5 Corners 3rd(?)

.....

 

[Tathagata]

final???

.....

 

[Liar]

The last one -- the first draft.

Definition: Lin

Character distilled,
scorched clean, compressed
to crystal pure,
as impeccable
as her face.
Even back then
when she wouldn't dare
drawling...

          I'm just a homely
          country girl ya know.
          Don't bother me
          with Metro Blues,
          take off your fancy shoes
          and feel the sea
          with me.

Lin Li-li Lovebug Lifeline
would no longer crack
and fall under any mountain,
and carried my all,

my world, my word,
mine, me,
upon slender shoulders
and silly laughter,
juggling boulders,
bending steel

and spoons
and souls...

          Hay loco, why the gloom?
          Let's shock the world,
          right here, right now...
          ...or get us a room.

Banter like band-aid,
straight shooting
simplicity squared,
spun around silken
smooth song.
And not before long
eternity impaired
came together.

For Lin Linalora
Lovecat Libido knows...

          Heaven dwells
          in a body warm kiss
          and a hot cuppa joe
          unsweeten'.

          Y'all knows this
          but any good thang
          bears repeatin'




----------------
Hope you're lurking to see this, soulsis.

 

[Tathagata]

5 corners 4th

.....

 

[trendyredhead]

First Kiss

At the risk of this getting lost in here....I wanted to get a "first reaction" to this draft. and if it's crap, please say so.


First Kiss

heads tilt
eyes close

inhale
lips part
tension mounts

exhale
warm tongue
grazes teeth

inhale
finger traces
cupid’s bow

breath held
lips touch
soft pressure
tongues meet
spearmint warmth
tongues retreat

exhale
breath mingles
hearts in tandem
begin again

 

[annaswirls]

I have not been able to let this one go. I want to make it work. Here is the original (actually the edited version of the stream of conscious one I posted here) and the revision.

My problem is: while writing it, I hade this feeling of being a 21st century person wondering how he would survive in a world where technology failed. But I think that might not be the function of the poem at all, it is what I felt but it is not conveyed.

any thoughts would be appreciated. I re-did some of it for sound and grammar--
I do not like the word "rest"
It was suggested to me that I make a transition between tools and poems in the second stanza, but I am not sure this works.

I wanted to convey the rocks work as a tool used for grinding grain to a rock for making poems where other forms of communication are not available.

----------------------------
Revised:

Riverbed Monologue

I could make weapons here.
Basalt and flint for tools of flesh,
chipped and sharpened into
blades and scrapers.

Smooth granite rock
might rest from crush and grind
to bang out poems
for the stream-still big-mouth bass
who brings his own.

This mica-sparkled stone I would keep
just for catching a timeless sky
in broken pieces of reflection,

taking a slow lifetime
to stitch it together, whole
like seen in still water
where mosquito larvae
gather strength on sand.


"Original:

Riverbed monologue:

I could make weapons here.
Basalt and flint for tools of flesh,
blades and scrapers,
chipped and sharp

Granite rocks
for crush and grind, or
to bang out loud poems
for stream still big-mouth bass
and blue bells, weary
heads too heavy for hollow stem

This mica-sparkled stone I will keep,
just for catching this perfect sky
in scattered pieces of reflection

taking a slow lifetime
to stitch it together, whole
like seen in still water
where mosquito larvae
gather strength on sand

 

[trendyredhead]

annaswirls -

I understand it, and I'm not keen on the word "rest" either ....

Instead of:
Smooth granite rock
might rest from crush and grind
to bang out poems
for the stream-still big-mouth bass
who brings his own.

What about....


Smooth granite ceases
the crush and grind
to bang out poems
for the stream-still big-mouth bass
who brings his own.


just a thought.....

trendyredhead

 

[fawnie]

mama's mystery 3rd draft (or 4th)

 

[annaswirls]

annaswirls -

I understand it, and I'm not keen on the word "rest" either ....

Instead of:
Smooth granite rock
might rest from crush and grind
to bang out poems
for the stream-still big-mouth bass
who brings his own.

What about....


Smooth granite ceases
the crush and grind
to bang out poems
for the stream-still big-mouth bass
who brings his own.


just a thought.....

trendyredhead

Thanks trh-- good suggestion!

I made a bunch of changes I think this is it (I am not used to editing, so I am making far too big of a deal of this, but thanks!)

Riverbed Monologue- edit 3

Even I could make weapons here

Basalt and flint chipped into
tools of flesh, sharpened
drills, blades and scrapers

Blue-black granite
for the crush and grind
of wild grain into flour

or to bang out poems
for stream-still big-mouth bass
when evening comes

But this mica-sparkled stone I keep
for catching sky in broken pieces
taking a lifetime to stitch it together

whole

as reflected off still water
where newly emerged mosquito
gather strength on sand

 

[DeepAsleep]

I just posted this in the thread I started.. I like it, but I'm not sure it's doing what I want it to.

The High Cost of Personal Responsibility

Amne, Asphen
Nosferatu
Simaru
Balduru
Tetragrammaton

Amne, Asphen
Nosferatu
Simaru
Balduru
Tetragrammaton

Abracadabra

I create as I speak.

Al Azif of Abdul Alhazred,
I've turned your pages of skin,
Past the point of no return
And sold my soul to Baal.

I have written a psalm for the
uncomfortably dead.
I have bathed in the blood of the weak
Until my skin went soft and white.
I have frolicked in salted fields with
The serpent and fed children
to the ravens,
Oscine raptors with unforgiving
razors in their jaws.
I have loved every moment.

I have walked under the earth,
with Yoggsoth'oth
caressed the worm of death,
Mumbling praises and hallelujahs
as I kissed its sickly hide.

For all that was left of my humanity,
I received a deep insight,
that pierced into the heart of man.
I know my neighbor as I know myself.
They are paper souls
I am forged of iron.
annealed, high tempered and
heavy handed.
There were none so strong and strange as I,
None so determined, or damned.

I counted each sin as dear to me
and created new torments
undreamed of by fair men.

At the end, I did smile.
My arms stretched high and wide
I embraced every tongue of fire.
I am not sorry.

~

I want to convey the sense that the "I" of the story knew every step of the way what lay at the end of their path. Looked forward to it, in fact. ..>Enh, all that, when what I meant was "understood the consequences of their actions."

I started it in a flippant mood and it wound up being more serious than I suspected and I'm worried that it comes across hokey. I'd like it to be disturbing, a little...

Enh. Lemme know what you think.

~~~~

That said...Annaswirls!

"Basalt and flint chipped into
tools of flesh"

I didn't really understand this line, not sure what you're trying to convey, here.

or to bang out poems
for stream-still big-mouth bass
when evening comes

As a friend of mine says, "Nailed it, dude!" I saw fish in pools, waiting to be tickled out. Perfect.

~D.A.

 

[echoes_s]

5th revision

Francine

Her mailbox brushed
painted uneven strokes,
streaked softly
of midnight blue,
scattered flaxen
emblazoned stars
and a half moon.

“Francine”
in silver looped script
luminous in reflection
from any shadow of light
catching to full glow
a stare, mesmerized
by the fact
it was there


the wood whistled wind
whispered hollow…
lark, loon,
flockless feathers
surround a battered trailer
nestled by the river
a part, not apart from the trees,
a swing daring trees to tangle

In the summer
sprays of goldenrod
and jewelweed weaved
adding luster, mystery.

shanks of rusting metal
poked through dirty snow,
forgotten to erode
letting nature decorate
with a canopy of age
trees wasted and scabbed,
leaves hung from limbs
like rotten bandages

i was never able
to quite reach inside,
caress her broken heart
as her ghost blue eyes
still whispered
the predilection her own
son’s death,
young…

Inside white circles
painted the floor,
shimmered red coats
differentiated
into hundreds of icons;
charms, pentacles, scarabs,
horseshoes, crosses
and devil’s masks

The Horus Eye,
a Plaster-of-Paris
ascending dove.
dolls twisted from corn husks,
leather layered
stretched to cure,
the old fashioned way

hand stitched moccasins,
caring scattered
beads of mystery
with meaning
Dream catchers bent
from bittersweet,
necklace of cowry shells
and a rosary of sharp blue stones.

Snow White,
George and his dragon,
the head of my pretty pony unicorn,
Virgin Mary’s,
some with Christ child.

A curtain of crystal flickering
rainbows over light
and a plush red lazy-boy
sitting alone in the center.
The ceiling above glittered
a galaxy of miniature twinkles,
all constellations,
astrological signs

Her hands delicate,
nails painted too perfect,
keen, clever,
and voice speaks with trembled husk
hypnotizing unaware
my laughter of fear,
denial flowed disbelief
the first time

caressing my gypsy bag
a safe keeping for insane
home for mute
a moccasin of fleet
made once of me
now closed inside
a locked pyramid
of Iridescent hematite

 

[doormouse]

I'm trying to grasp abstract poetry.

I'd love your ideas/suggestions on this one (please )

Moon Shadow

A golden orb, on a
glass blanket sits,
seville orange haze
long gone

foliaceous sways, a
gentle breeze blows
from somewhere, a
nocturnal cry

cool granules damp
from an endless lick
threaten to devour

swallow me, take
me, your beacon calls

so calm, so surreal

behind is a reminder
of errs once known
your golden beams
entice my soul

moon shadows dance
to siren songs, on
wind carry whispers
'come home'

 

[doormouse]

A HUGE Thank You to tara for helping make my poem a piece to be proud of.

Thank you for the time and effort you gave tara. It was truly appreciated.

*hugs*