Poetry in Progress ~ construction zone

tarablackwood22 said:
PM me with the details....that way we won't get jail time. :heart:


talking to pirates - new poem......please read.


LOL

ok, but ater i get home, i'm closing shop now and breezy's rolling her eyes at me:D

later doll!:kiss: :kiss: :heart:
 
TARA BLACKWOOD

read and decoded
by a navy of eyes.


this pleases a certain naval person (cough)
 
Re: the start of something..............

tarablackwood22 said:
.................but what??


days soft and sweet with song, music
of the masters, no longer dance
on polished floors, those ballrooms
where men brought gifts from gardens
and swept my feet around and upward
as if I’d strapped on wings and dreamed
the dreams and lived
the life of a sparrow.



even now - new poem.......please read.

i think it stands as it is almost
a little rewriting and leave it as is.....
just a thought
 
Re: flying on..............

tarablackwood22 said:
...........without eyes.

Help me with my blindfold!


days soft and sweet with song, music
of the masters, no longer dance
on polished floors, those ballrooms
where men brought gifts from gardens
and swept my feet around and upward
as if I’d strapped on wings and dreamed
the dreams and lived
the life of a sparrow.

that flight is pinioned, roped
by heavy threads of truth, its soar
a flame gone out, its sky-majestic climb
split across the jagged rocks
of wild and wasted dreams, birds
that flew in different days to Paris,
or Prague, perhaps even to heaven,
a proper home when cutting air.



even now - new poem......please read.
good morning tara..
we seem to post at the same time an awful lot! i'm glad you're after me though, someone might think i'm stalking you!:devil:
anyhow, i wont pretend to know what to tell you about the poem..its cut abrubtly though, i'm assuming you're not done yet..but it flows nicely, ..i'm far too ignorant of poetry to dare offer anything more:rolleyes:
 
Re: 2nd go-round -- minor restructure

tarablackwood22 said:
lost bird


nights soft and sweet with song, music
of the masters, no longer dance
on polished floors, those ballrooms
of men with gifts from gardens
who swept my feet around and up
as if I’d strapped on wings
and dreamed
the dreams and lived
the life of a sparrow.

that flight is pinioned, roped
by tightened threads of truth, its soar
a flame gone out, lost in the wind,
its sky-majestic climb a corpse
along the jagged rocks
of wild and wasted wraiths, birds
that flew in different days
to Paris and Prague, and once
even to heaven,
a proper aim and roost when cutting air.

the light that shines from there
on flocks of morning
and draws its breath to pull
the flyers home
grows black in throes of blindness
at the folly of the natives
of the ground who dare to wear
those feathers,
sends them spinning into whirlpools, sinking
in the crippling cramps and darkened lamps
of evening, to drown alone
among the seas.

********************************

even now - new poem......please read.

talking to pirates - new poem......please read.

quit stalking me! ;) :p :p
itdontfeel so abrubt now..quite lovely..in a sad sorta way!
 
Re: 2nd draft

tarablackwood22 said:
foolin around with intermittent rhyme :eek: HORRORS!!


the eyes of future mornings know freedom


our last walk, dark and lonely
down this familiar street
with its deli smells of pickles and stew
and its boys pitching nickels, and you
knowing our parting
before we meet,
feeling what I feel, the going
of goodness, the in-betweens
of slavery and loss
and what they mean.

it’s a story now, a reason
for theatres and ink
and the drink of sad men,
but the tragedy
is that we are so ordinary,
have failed, even in sunlight,
to notice the words that broke
the fiber of need,
marking it unwanted, deeded
forever to a tomb.

perhaps, at a quiet moment
some future morning
when they’ve shut their warnings
and breakfast fires
and the birds have broken
from their choirs,
the eyes of dawn will see something
precious, and understand –
a child reaching for a butterfly’s freedom
happy that she failed, in the end,
to steal that sacred gift, worthy
of worship, showing the wisdoms
of a kind king.

**********************
Born Too Late - new poem......please read!

even now - new poem......please read.

ohhh wow..beautiful!
especially the last bit..it gave me goose bumps..
damn i love the mind behind such poetry..
what a beautiful way to walk through life.
i bet you do too..
you should be pleased tara..this is brilliant!
the concept wonderful!
:kiss:
 
Re: Re: 2nd draft

fawnie said:
ohhh wow..beautiful!
especially the last bit..it gave me goose bumps..
damn i love the mind behind such poetry..
what a beautiful way to walk through life.
i bet you do too..
you should be pleased tara..this is brilliant!
the concept wonderful!
:kiss:

aint she somethin'
I hear she has a great ass too
:p

Morning fawnie
:rose:
 
Re: Re: Re: 2nd draft

Tathagata said:
aint she somethin'
I hear she has a great ass too
:p

Morning fawnie
:rose:

i wouldn't know:rolleyes:
about her ass anyhow..lol
anyhow, good morning tath dahlinggggg..i'm off to the store, see you in an hour, :kiss: :rose:
 
third draft

still not "right" what's missing? needs trimming?

any help? let it die, maybe?



Why I love my Husband


in the grueling heat
no matter how tired,
he rises from the shade
and drives way across town
to help his sister,
because she’s his sister

then still finds strength to kneel
between my thighs
and worship there
teaches me religion,
till I scream his name in prayer
then spoons me close
and pets my hair

when I stood shamed,
my sin exposed,
wearing scarlet A,
and townsfolk gathered
to toss their stones,
he knelt beside me,
took my hands in his
said, “I still love you.
Please come home.”

he has the courage
to let me explore,
search my soul
at spiritual retreats
discover my life
unfolding before his eyes

he is that true

after 20 years
he still holds my hand,
climbs mountains at my side
cares for my ills
without complaint pays the bills,
treats me as friend and equal.

you wonder why I love him?
 
Re: third draft

Syndra Lynn said:
still not "right" what's missing? needs trimming?

any help? let it die, maybe?



Why I love my Husband


in the grueling heat
no matter how tired,
he rises from the shade
and drives way across town
to help his sister,
because she’s his sister

then still finds strength to kneel
between my thighs
and worship there
teaches me religion,
till I scream his name in prayer
then spoons me close
and pets my hair

when I stood shamed,
my sin exposed,
wearing scarlet A,
and townsfolk gathered
to toss their stones,
he knelt beside me,
took my hands in his
said, “I still love you.
Please come home.”

he has the courage
to let me explore,
search my soul
at spiritual retreats
discover my life
unfolding before his eyes

he is that true

after 20 years
he still holds my hand,
climbs mountains at my side
cares for my ills
without complaint pays the bills,
treats me as friend and equal.

you wonder why I love him?

Syn, I think it needs a few punctuation improvements and some other small changes....but not much.

Take a look at it this way:

in the grueling heat, tired,
he rises from the shade
and drives way across town
to help his sister,
because she’s his sister,

and still finds strength to kneel
between my thighs
and worship there,
teaching religion
until I scream his name in prayer,
then spoons me close
and pets my hair.

when I stood shamed,
exposed in sin
by a scarlet A,
and townsfolk gathered to toss
their stones,
he knelt beside me
and took my hands,
saying, “I love you.
Please come home.”

he has the courage
to let me explore, search
my soul, retreat,
discover my life, unfolding
like a flower
before his eyes.

he is that true.

20 years
and he still holds my hand,
climbs mountains at my side
and cares without complaint,
treats me as a friend,
equal.

you wonder why I love him?

:heart: :heart: Tara

Born Too Late - new poem......please read!

even now - new poem......please read.
 
Re: Re: third draft

tarablackwood22 said:
Syn, I think it needs a few punctuation improvements and some other small changes....but not much.



You are a blessing and a brilliant poet. Many thanks pretty one.:rose:
 
Re: 2nd draft

tarablackwood22 said:
one day in December


trembling in the closing arms
of winter,
so many hands
to clothe your numbness, warm you
as they dab the frost from your cheeks
and forehead, brand you
with their cuddling love.

the hour of ice,
the final test
before the frightening dogs of midnight
call you home
with their muscular barks, howling
from incessant hunger, cold
and selfish in their lust.

tomorrow
they plant a stone for you,
white marble, to bear
your name and numbers,
but now
is your moment of warmth and glory
as the flesh ropes of your daughters
and their daughters, the remarkable forest
of your seed,
wrap you like flaming vines
and lower you gently down.

******************************
Born Too Late - new poem......please read!

even now - new poem......please read.

wiping tears..beautiful! i'll say no more:rolleyes:
 
Re: Re: 2nd draft

fawnie said:
wiping tears..beautiful! i'll say no more:rolleyes:


Hey Fawnie....your mailbox is full....trying to send you a PM ;)

Time for some housecleaning!! Get to it. ;)
 
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