Poetry in Progress ~ construction zone

[Tathagata]

ooops wrong thread

 

[vampiredust]

Wear Glasses

leapt off the waterfall
I
when
I nearly collided with a heron












..... and fell into the pool
at the bottom of my eye

 

[flyguy69]

Scrutiny
2nd draft

I share with rocks and logs
gravity, or might fall, flamelike,
into thin sky. Tobacco smoke curls
like raised hands. We labor
in pale dawn: a frame and blankets wrapped
tight as swaddling, cool water

and medicine. Tim Greencrow
and I make fire, our skin red
and wet with sweat. The sun breaks
from the horizon and drags up
Leola One Feather, with coffee
in KwikTrip cups. Dewey Archambeaux
brings donut holes leftover
from the PTA. Words displace
the silence, piling like sticks in a pit.

You sure that’s sage?
Last new boy lined the lodge with nettles—Aho!
The Spirits tested us
that day! When an eagle comes

out of the north and hangs
on a leaf-thin breeze, one eye
to our open mouths, words scatter
like ashes; when he slides to a dot
in the west the air is thick
as darkness and steam.

 

[annaswirls]

Fly-- please, get the beginning back the way it was mister, it is too poem-y now! I want the spontaniety back! I want a spell checker!

 

[flyguy69]

Fly-- please, get the beginning back the way it was mister, it is too poem-y now! I want the spontaniety back! I want a spell checker!

Hmmm, you have a point.

 

[annaswirls]

Hmmm, you have a point.

it is still good and it is just me, of course

when I see a poem-y poem I want to mess up its hair

 

[flyguy69]

it is still good and it is just me, of course

when I see a poem-y poem I want to mess up its hair

I'm not ready to make final decisions, yet, but I can see your point. The first was just me remembering the incident, the second is after adding poetic touches. Sometimes they help, sometimes they detract.

 

[annaswirls]

............

 

[SeattleRain]

inside the first circle (looking for a new title)

xxxxxxx

 

[Sara Crewe]

What about 'radius' or something to do with 'radius'? It would tie in the cirlces on the wall, the blast zone, the closeness between character and even the power of connection through scent.

Concentric circles
on the wall of the Biograph
plot out coordinates
flash-death fallout radiation sickness
But oh it depends on how the wind blows
how the wind blows if you are out past
the last ring but you and me baby
we are the lucky ones
stoned and watching the Brothers Quay
we don't know we are in love
but that is okay
our shadows will not have time
to be etched on the wall
we are vapor

We are vapor, you and me
inside the first circle down in D.C.
Down in D.C. you hold my hand
I wear your leather coat
just like the movies
and become Nancy
to your Sid

God and when he picked up her knickers
that fell from her bag
I did not understand why
he held them up to his face
and breathed them in and in

why so I tried it myself in your bathroom
leaned down between my knees
and breathed in my own cotton-soaked scent
until dizzyness overtook me
and I wished someday someone
would want me so much
to carry me in his pocket
like a pack of mints

 

[flyguy69]

"like a pack of mints" deflates this poem, I think.

Also, "God, and..." is an unnecessary expletive, since it "tells" us that the N feels strongly about the situation.

A penny per thought = my two cents worth!

 

[annaswirls]

Thanks Sara! I will keep the radius in mind

and thanks Fly, for your input as well!

"like a pack of mints" deflates this poem, I think.

Also, "God, and..." is an unnecessary expletive, since it "tells" us that the N feels strongly about the situation.

A penny per thought = my two cents worth!

 

[clutching_calliope]

.....

 

[Sara Crewe]

Thanks Sara! I will keep the radius in mind

and thanks Fly, for your input as well!

I like the 'pack of mints' line because it shows he carrries them like they were necessary but casual at the same time, like there was nothing unusual about carrying panties in one's pocket. I think it's a perfect combination of casual indifference and obsession.

 

[annaswirls]

I like the 'pack of mints' line because it shows he carrries them like they were necessary but casual at the same time, like there was nothing unusual about carrying panties in one's pocket. I think it's a perfect combination of casual indifference and obsession.

Thank you Sara, I like them too, and now I know why.

 

[annaswirls]

.......

 

[champagne1982]

Jealous Love

Do you love them with your ink
as you write; the nib painted
black with desire as you scribe
a narrow line across vellum
pages bound in human skin?

I wonder at the magic of scribbled
tongue-stirred passions lost
in words illuminated with brush
and stylus, to somehow find import
with the brilliant hues of desire
in this library of monks.

Solomon, wise and beautiful in mind
and heart, whisper a proverb
to suspend my disbelief and infuse
my soul with faith. Could
such loveliness exist without
a maker who feels this jealous need?

 

[sugarmountain]

Puzzling

Life is a jigsaw puzzle
each piece irregular
vexing cons which draw your attention
protuberances which push you away
points which poke and prod
scallops seeking fulfillment

moments demanding a mate
to balance, blend
pay attention to the facets
pieces string together
clumps combine, coalesce
suddenly it starts to make sense

learned lessons are the glue
which calm the scattered chaos
focus on the fit, in and out,
hole and tang,
ying and yang,
and the big picture is revealed

 

[flyguy69]

Nice. Don't belabor the metaphor, however. The text in red doesn't advance the poem in my view.

Life is a jigsaw puzzle
each piece irregular
vexing cons which draw your attention
protuberances which push you away
points which poke and prod
scallops seeking fulfillment

moments demanding a mate
to balance, blend
pay attention to the facets
pieces string together
clumps combine, coalesce
suddenly it starts to make sense

learned lessons are the glue
which calm the scattered chaos
focus on the fit, in and out,
hole and tang,
ying and yang,
and the big picture is revealed

 

[sugarmountain]

Nice. Don't belabor the metaphor, however. The text in red doesn't advance the poem in my view.

Thanks for the input Fly. I understand where you come from, and don't totally disagree. I guess part of what I was trying to portray was the process, not just the concept.

Does that make sense?

 

[vampiredust]

Life Up Close

The needle punctures my eyes
and the scene starts to blur,
my brain slowly filtering out
the real from the imaginary.

I hold my arms out, trying to hold
on to what I already know
but the world is full of ghosts
and even the railing feels like a spectre

fading in and out of this mural.
I slowly start to choke on the smoke
-doves flying out of the cars on the road
before waking up from this vision

of my death. And I think,
what you don't see is already dead
and what you see is a vision of the forgotten
like reality, that mirror you hold up everyday.

 

[annaswirls]

After sleeping a hundred years

I woke with a hacking cough.
Someone told me you had called
about a hundred times,
left smoke signals and biplane messages
hoping when I woke
my eyes would be skyward.

I woke with a hacking cough
your sky words sputter,
trapped in the phlegm of slumber

Someone told me you can't get smokes here anymore,
slapped a patch on my arm and promised
It'll also take care of those babies you don't want to have
and if you start feeling sad or ponder the reality
of nothingness crammed into a hole,
just give it a scratch, release that serotonin
right into your skin it will.

I roll over
go back to sleep.

 

[DeepAsleep]

Revamped an old piece I was never satisfied with. Still not sure.


For evening

The trumpet vines outside
are blooming red bells
with hummingbird bowties
night spent not sleeping
has left dry eyes blinking
at the first half of the sun.

If a daughter never hears
her father’s voice,
can she feel safe?

If a child is named wrongly,
can it ever know itself?

You should have been named Evening
for the color of promises made bedside
to little girls at bedtime.

Some when
when I am more
I will tell you your real name.

This morning,
less than when I started
I am made of little

a heartful of fuckups
a pocketful of useless observations
cigarettes spent on distraction

Soon honey, some day
some when
(I make this twilight promise)
I will sing your name
only to you.

 

[sugarmountain]

Hope took a right turn
wrong way into oncoming traffic
confronted chaos
ducking and diving to avoid
catastrophe heading it’s way

on a day when the sun
reminiscent of apocalypse
hid behind thick gray clouds
blanketing the sky
like a burial shroud

so total the absence of existence
hope stopped and knelt
folded it’s hands, bowed it’s head,
said 50 Hail Mary’s, then held it’s breath
awaiting the death knoll

spied on the road,
creeping through a crevice
the green of a four leaf clover
against the black tarmac
unflinching in it’s resolve

to survive the smothering
asphalt choking the earth
Hope took heart, picked the clover
tucked it behind it’s ear, arose
with Luck, it’s new companion

 

[Vampiric_Mirage]

I still have that shirt
the one with the unicorns dancing in moonlight
the one that once was "me"
but I can claim it as mine no longer

Wallowing in self pity
self loathing
self disappointment...
I am not who I want to be,
nor will I ever be

Hair falls across my face
obscuring my warped sense of reality
- wait I'm splicing my crossed wires
what did I mean to say?
Does it matter?

Coherency -
I'd say something on the subject
if only I knew what the subject was.
If I can't find myself how can I find the words to express me?