Hi Ku Cat

[butters]

act of creation&elemental gods

on hands and knees, head low
i pray to a god of mud and stone
hear rain approach across the woodland
preceded by a rushing breeze
a precipitation of leaves

later that night in bed
shins, ankles, wrists, fingers and toes
burn and burn
the oldest god reminding me
there's a cost in creation

 

[HarryHill]

..
Fourteen Line Preamble

I'll start some live jive, slipping thoughts between the lines;
it's been a long summer. Too much largess and slumber.
I broke the mower, smithpeter. Ku needs to fix the weed eater.
There's time to wonder what it's all about.

Then open eyes to what surrounds, leaves mind silent,
the bones of the world laid bare, and words a tumble,
still, drift to the earth, hang from the leaves of peppers and peas.
and the hill stands mute beyond, holds its breath.

Rhythmic lines begin to form, a song comes on like a storm,
much of it forgotten when pen and paper come to hand,
far from the place of its perishable fruiting
but there's hope, some survived the flight to write.

Eleven lines of iffy iambic pentameter
coming your way; send three more, smithpeter.

 

[HarryHill]

..
Southern Exposure

Evening, a stroll through the domain, dog too;
deaf hush, mushroom weather, October sultry.
Grounds soon open by the birds wing tree. Ooh!
The moon above, cats eye, twilight, peaking
between streamers of clouds, west, east,
sunlit bright orange debaho by sunset,
background muted sapphire, velvet finish.
Open arms widely given to the old god
pouring sweet peace within devout worship.

A rake was found between the rows, oh no,
rescued from a weedy overgrown tomato.
Down the garden, peppers forgotten, oops,
up hill to where the tool's sorely needed.
Tonight I write, lovely moon in my heart.

Note: debaho is Spanish for underneath

 

[HarryHill]

..
Six Squared Plus Six

I remember under the avocado tree,
cold water garage apartment,
one room, bed and her,
too much party and in no hurry to waste my lust,
but she could only take so much,
fled to the front house,
left me holding an erection.
I was so close;
rub it out

Now after all these years,
looking back,
seeing things I missed out on,
wondering,
why she didn't send reinforcements.

 

[HarryHill]

..
You keep me warm
in the coldest nights and warmest days
you keep me sane
in the crazy times and slow vibes
long roads, quiet rides,
there and back
and back again.
...

 

[butters]

..
You keep me warm
in the coldest nights and warmest days
you keep me sane
in the crazy times and slow vibes
long roads, quiet rides,
there and back
and back again.
...

osmosis
your cold feet, my hot
a balancing act
welcomed by both
finding our sweet spot
right there in the middle

 

[pearlsenecio]

She gasps for air
Her temperature rises
Moans heard from afar
The commotion quiets
Legs close from spread open
Chest heaves, then settles
We both fall asleep
Glowing, with smiles.

 

[HarryHill]

..
Laying face up to the warm blue,
green pasture surrounds, nested,
alone with my thoughts, a truck,
the great beyond somewhere past my sight.
..
I'm always the hero in my stories,
looking for a path past adversity,
some chance encounter,
run, fight, both, or party.

 

[HarryHill]

Sonnet workshop

..
Removed until after contest/challenge ends

 

[butters]

 

[HarryHill]

..
From Writing Live Thread, post 2545, January 16, 2016
..
Unexpected/forgotten posts from the past.
My love asleep in our bed,
face holding a contented smile
for the kiss laid as I left for coffee.

 

[butters]

 

[butters]

4.20 pm

it's that time of day again
where the sun's had a few too many
lists at that specific angle towards the hills
where the front yard's transformed
into some paint-by-number canvas
a backdrop sky serene mid-blue 22
where every trunk and branch is split
light and dark
between numbers 3 and 31
with blotches of bright 7/11s
and the green of 21 is striped
by number 33
the darkest of them all

4.35 p.m
denuded woodlands dark with shaded firs
swallow the disc's arc to horizon
and the number chart is lost
all except for ubiquitous shades of 19, of 27
a hint of 15
a lone splotch of carmine
number 25

 

[HarryHill]

..
the wheels turn and grind disconnected mind,
time to adjust that synchromesh, no rush,
double clutch, blown engine.
...

 

[butters]

written in a state of sleep-deprivation, a torture, so it's glitchy

organic computer
runs all day
receiving data packages
from sensory sources
beyond mere audio and visual

even shutting off our screens
won't stop the flow
images projected on inner lids
to be intercepted
interpreted
by the brain

downtime's required
to update
sort
discard
neatly stow away
if we're to face the next oncoming day

mind sinks
through the layers
of thought
pulse
breathing
dreams
rarely reaching that primordial ooze
thick
dark
peaceful

R.E.M dreams closest to that prize
do most the work
sorting trivia and trash
storing, storing, storing
on our soft-drives
where subconscious functions
runs scans, mends registries and warped, corrupted links,
compresses, optimises space, updates...

so on those nights where REM is broken
and rebroken
when sharply dragged by hook from depths
abruptly to the surface
drowning in the fractured glare of glitches this creates
brain's functioning ability is fucked
wake-world snarled in dreams, day tainting dreams
i stagger through the hours sick and drunken
malfunctioning in a most distressing way

no need to go online for 'how to fix'
this messed up organic 'puter on the fritz
some hours just to sleep and dream and bliss
the reboot is achieved, few errors missed

 

[butters]

neat coral cups of quince in stiff array
brighten an already bright-blue day
and though the breezes tumble-tousle others
these stems, composed, tight-lipped as watchful mothers

 

[butters]

2 days early, but this came today so here it is xx

on our 5th anniversary

we've hollowed our bowl from wood
chosen for its promised colours
its history of swirls and burr-marks
oddities and occlusions
we've taken time
to smooth its simple shape
wax and buff it
reveal sensory delights
and though the bottom may not be quite
flat, quite flawless
there's a charm all its own
and it still holds sweet waters
reflecting possibilities

 

[HarryHill]

Cinco Anos

It fell yesterday;
the spire of the birds wing tree,
where she landed on another shore,
crumbled to mere monument size.

And even though the pain of the collapse brought sorrow,
the shrine has never looked better or I loved you less.

:confetti:

 

[butters]

 

[butters]

june 1st 2021
(98F, 78% humidity)

a baleful heat
malignant
meaner than a one-eyed sow
stomping runts into
cracked
red
dirt

birds are still
invisible, silent
wait for its humid glare to fall
below the ring of tree line

rabbits pant underground–
dawn's thick dew a memory
succulent stems wilted, shriveled

everything on pause

mowers, tractors, hoses, tools
cars & trucks and trailers
fixed in place–extended exposure
acid-washed

with half-mast lids i wonder
will they explode?
dream of more clement climes
train rides to the coast

 

[HarryHill]

Changed climatic cools.
Ku drools, mewls,
just the right temperature.

 

[HarryHill]

Root of yellow
right of way,
its own warning;
tread softly here,
everything else is just bricks.

 

[butters]

the chicken chronicles

king dick
jumped ship
abandoning his court
leaving them to cluster
tight
on elevated perches
his ladies' ruffles extra ruffled
while bawdy pretenders to his crown
stayed significantly silent
hid between their skirts

was it fear of flying dragons
or climatic discombobulation
had him flee the coop?
no matter—
the great white beast lay patiently
as disgraced regent hid his face
just a few scraps of ornate plumage
hanging from her smile

i plucked him up
returned him without ceremony
watch his embarrassed strut
all eyes on him from above.

 

[HarryHill]

Watching old viddys,
same old shit; some a'int pretty.
Time has returned to normal.
Kiss me, he said during a commercial.
Hold my apostrophe's safe for my return.

 

[butters]

your apostrophe's safe with me
as are your apostrophes
some dogs have more fun
not learning old new tricks
happier shuffling a deck of thoughts
creativity
s'all good