Thunderstruck

[HotKittySpank]

bonsai

bonsai, in consideration of this small article;

does it know it is contained,
a curious deformity pruned in mimic
of wild things nature shaped does it knowingly yearn
to reach toward those denied heights
its twisted branches strain against the training wire
against rocks weighted to limbs that will never extend

does it weep for roots trimmed to stunt its growth
for scars and amputations given in perfections pursuit
those pleasing proportions and placements contrived
beauty, small contrition to injuries suffered in pursual

is it satisfied in those scarce blossoms that burst
the fruit it dares produce despite such lowly stature
perhaps it is in spite

it does not see itself for what it becomes, a living art
its restrained life refined exhibition of graceful creation
so determined by the gentle gardener’s guiding hand

 

[HotKittySpank]

slot machine

he smiles those dollar sign eyes
hand slipped quarters fed into the slot

one right after another
all hard lever pulls
fruit spun wager screams

yeah baby, yeah! who's your daddy girl?

he is the big player
big winner
he will make it off you yet hot shot,
i'll place my bet

come on luck, be a lady
spill your green across his hand

 

[HotKittySpank]

ink

why do these words come out of me
travel down my arm and flow as ink
what makes them take up life in my head
share blank space with me

we loom over the edge
feel the urge to jump
don’t we all feel those urges, don’t we

is it just my words and me
we jump at ground that never seems to come
then does,

all to abrupt it rushes up to greet us

and these words slip over themselves
we wrestle against one another to be the better
against better judgment
against what seems right they pull the ink
in effort to reach the ground ahead of me

and so i write it down

 

[HotKittySpank]

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[HotKittySpank]

this was just a funny scene:
...

stuck behind the truck
its mistaken cottonous mounds
spew feathery garlic skins.
white floaters swirl skyward
and skitter across the asphalt
to wrap us in a fragrant
mock snowstorm.


: )

 

[HotKittySpank]

diablo

Diablo is a woman. i recognize
her blonde body reclined

languid in luscious range. she rolls
and folds around tiny eruptions of life
caressed by whispers along her
rippled hair in sigh. she speaks

in shudders starved for water
in scorched patches torched
by motor men, pecked
by eagles, whipped
by wind, she lies still
and takes it knowing
she will outlast them.

 

[TheRainMan]

help! . . .
--j

do not use any adjectives that are not vital to the poem . . . let nouns and verbs carry the meaning.

you don't need any help right now. you are doing just fine on your own . . . i bet you can tell the improvement.

when you hit a wall, ask for help.

 

[wildsweetone]

do not use any adjectives that are not vital to the poem . . . let nouns and verbs carry the meaning.

this is one of THE best pieces of advice that has helped me. i highly recommend you at least try it HKS and see where your poetry takes you. you'll love the journey i'm sure.

 

[RhymeFairy]

do not use any adjectives that are not vital to the poem . . . let nouns and verbs carry the meaning.

this is one of THE best pieces of advice that has helped me. i highly recommend you at least try it HKS and see where your poetry takes you. you'll love the journey i'm sure.

I second that.
I know, sounds a bit silly coming from me, but it is great advice.

 

[My Erotic Trail]

this was just a funny scene:
...

stuck behind the truck
its mistaken cottonous mounds
spew feathery garlic skins.
white floaters swirl skyward
and skitter across the asphalt
to wrap us in a fragrant
mock snowstorm.


: )

(~_*) .... I am just glad it was not a chicken truck <grin

 

[HotKittySpank]

(~_*) .... I am just glad it was not a chicken truck <grin

HA~! now that brought tears of laughter all over the place!! i was thinking the same thing at the time... : )

 

[HotKittySpank]

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[wildsweetone]

big ups for the advice folks
so is this what we are talking about?
(take outs)
...

devil swells of yellow lead us
through (emerald) oak studded crowns to climb
among her peaks we slip between this (craggy) crevasse
of (gouged) striations rough hewn by explosions
topped with outcrops along the way

this slick black snake whips and winds a path of melt
through butter and burned out mounds of baking
land broken only by a lonely black wall

a sideways monolith piled up against the electric opal flow (--i need this as it is a lake and hydro electric dam - don't i?)
ringed by evaporation lines filled in with sinking green (sinking because it was advancing on the water - like being sucked towards it)
ached for the life she brings in (sparkling) ingenuity stopped up

nestled, quiet in her work, she too sinks at summer’s end
near done awaiting rain from this barren world of (grassy) chains
dollops topped in neat rows of (giant) whirly-gigs --MASSIVE windmills / shouldn't that be ok?

they slice the air to add their ampage to the heat of turbines
spinning to stem the flow we hop the corked river popped
to slide along side the (black) stretched wall

above our heads
below the inundation
to blend into the (rippled) patchwork quilt
crisscrossed and dotted on the other side

...
--? if that is better please let me know - i guess i'm just all excited about describing the drive - bouncing all over the place to have three poems out of it. : )

as for not needing the help, perhaps. i certainly feel like i need it. but a little head pat every now and again makes me feel like i'm doing ok (part of my nature).

so, this little bit of advice makes me not want to submit anything, again. too funny. and now i'm off to hack away at more stuff.

thanks again. --j

it is better. it reads smoother (except the parts that feel like my tongue is turning somersaults in my mouth... is your normal every day spoken language like this? - just out of pure curiosity)

 

[HotKittySpank]

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[wildsweetone]

WOW! another bubble of laughter popped out of my mouth!

yeah, verbal gymnastics - shit, sorry. soemtimes i channel Dr. Seuss. gotta work on that. seriously though, that's the way things link up in my head. i like the feel of words in my mouth, they way they slide up against one another in my brain, echos later in a line. sorry. i will work on smoothing out the ride.

: ) big smiles!

i have a free program i sometimes use called Read Please. i can copy and paste any writing into it and it will read back to me what i've typed. sometimes i can pick up how wonky something sounds, easier than reading it online. you might like to give it a go.

 

[Never]

Hot Kitty Spank:
" sometimes i channel Dr. Seuss. "

I find it interesting you should say that as your poetry is nothing like Dr. Seuss'. The reason that some of his works are verbally 'difficult' is that he mixes a tight rhyming scheme with strong alliteration. The reason your poetry is verbally 'difficult' is that it has no internal structure, no rhythm.

For instance, this is me reading your poem:
Devil swells of yellow lead us through oak studded crowns to climb among her peaks we slip between this crevasse of striations rough hewn (*Never gasps for air*) by explosions topped with outcrops along the way.

That's not even my main problem with the poem. My main problem is that I say the paragraph and while it sounds like English, my mind tells me it makes no sense.

So, one line at a time.

"Devil swells of yellow lead us."
Okay there's the narrator and at least one other person being lead by a Devil Swell of Yellow.

"through oak studded crowns"
And this Devil Swell of Yellow is leading these people through oak studded crowns, whatever that is.

"to climb among her peaks"
Now I think that this Devil Swell of Yellow is female or maybe the oak studded crowns are female. Is this erotic poetry? Why are you climbing this woman's peaks?

" to climb among her peaks we slip between this crevasse"
This is like saying, "To climb the ladder, we jumped into the ditch."

"crevasse of striations rough hewn by explosions"
First off, you're using the passive voice. Secondly, explosions don't make something rough-hewn. Hewn is shaping something with an axe or shaping something so it looks like you put an axe to it. Explosions just blow big holes things.

"Explosions topped with outcrops along the way."
Explosions topped with outcrops makes no sense.

If you don't believe me, just print out the paragraph I selected. Find someone, anyone, and just read it to them. Ask them what they think it's about. They might tell you it sounds pretty but without some coaching, I doubt they'll even understand the sentence.

 

[HotKittySpank]

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[HotKittySpank]

i have a free program i sometimes use called Read Please. i can copy and paste any writing into it and it will read back to me what i've typed. sometimes i can pick up how wonky something sounds, easier than reading it online. you might like to give it a go.

thanks for the suggestion. i will check it out.

wonky : )

 

[HotKittySpank]

six miles of morning walk
over poison oak and sand dune slides
to gawk at elephant seals, their trunk bellows sagged
in sun bathing. those giant blubber bodies
lie mellowed upon this rotting seaweed,
beached in challenge to our stare.

we jockey for position behind an arbitrary sand line,
hold our offended noses as the streamlined bodies lie
like slugs too disinterested to charge. i turn
to leave this stinking scene as unimpressed as they.


...

unchained as suggested by Decayed Angel. yep, you were right.

 

[HotKittySpank]

a red bi-plane cuts the blue in barrel rolls
back and forth, loops fill sky above miles
of sand dune views that melt beneath feet.

i watch him fly practiced rolls and climbs,
delight in aimed precision.

straight up he shoots
with sudden stall begins to fall,
a silent plummet toward the ground. i watch,
anticipate the crash and boom,
the run through fire and melted dunes.

but, his engine sputters
with my too close shutter. we begin again
in barrel rolls better, ground more firm.

above me he climbs straight to sky,
my neck rolls back into freefall as he stalls.
his red nose in silent approach
toward me,
toward the ground i hold.

heels dug in, i stand
in sandals full of silent screams.

we in a line of frozen time
the ground
the plane
and i.

his engine sputters to start again
as he rolls right by.

...

 

[HotKittySpank]

ikebana


no more roses please.
their cloying sweetness only serves
to fill the holes pricked by thorns,
even in decay.

oh for silence
in a forest where thought is nothing but the floor of trees,
these questions, and the possibilities that stretch as far as i can see.
and duty yes, chained to this,

so give me a box of green.
the carpet of trees captured just for me
in microcosm. those bough wrapped shoots in bloom,
their tender trumpets filled with my delight.

 

[HotKittySpank]

Santa Ana ushers change,
calls the leaves to clatter across concrete
whipped into a whirling dance.

soon the trees will be naked to her advances.
wind swept branches will clap in applause
for her performance as they release their treasures
of abandoned twig meringues which plummet
into lucky hands; discarded confections
of a generation collected as specimens under glass.

 

[TheRainMan]

. . . Pacheco Pass is a very treacherous stretch of road over the Diablo Range. Along the way you pass an enormous reservoir - hydroelectric dam, huge windmills - also for electricity. it is all yellow grass except for the lake ringed in green fungus and grass as the water evaporates and/or is fed through the turbines . . .

then say that when you write about it,

and leave out all the other silliness.

 

[HotKittySpank]

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[HotKittySpank]

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