not sure how many words

[Angeline]

Hello lovely lady. I've missed you.

You, Gaia. Daughter, mother,
womb-dark ocean; dance
over the face of heaven
and leave the pungent perfume
of blood, seared in your desire.

You, child of woman, infant;
hasten to hear her voice
in the blackened red
that is her birth gift. Soft
and steady she waits
for you to dance across
placid, ocean-wet stars.

Hello my dear friend. I've missd you, too.

Wanna know a secret? I made the poem here. It's lots of fun! (But don't tell anybody!)

 

[champagne1982]

Hello my dear friend. I've missd you, too.

Wanna know a secret? I made the poem here. It's lots of fun! (But don't tell anybody!)

Now that site is on my faves list. I'm starting to get a pretty large population of links, maybe I'll need to start slipping them into a poetry folder, a pic folder and a silliness folder . It is fun.

 

[wildsweetone]

530 kilometres
not a long trip by any means
but a first, alone, for me.
a first for a person with a thirst
for adventure,
a first for stepping across that gilded line -
the barrier between do not and dare.
And one night away
wearing satin or denim
or simply whatever, just to disappear
into geometric patterns
on the wallpaper. I think not
a second chance will come my way
to travel alone for a couple of days.

 

[RhymeFairy]

days, months,

years of love
seemingly thrown away.
one phone call, on her way
to see her man. only,
to turn around, disembark
and hang him out, to dry.

limp from tears, cries
of "it's not fair" and "what
has this other man done to me"
to make me disbelieve
in true love. happiness

but a trip away. blinded
she trips
going to, on the way back
from insecured ties. knotted
pressure wires
hit the trigger switch
of just love me, for me
or is this a booty call
for here

and now.
fuck tomorrow
a ghost is had, not
heard. two hearts crying, neither

is heard
over passed indiscretions
indecisive hauntings
come and go. a free for all forensics
of blood trails and crowbar hits.

which path
do you choose? to have it all
or hang out 'n see. will he, won't he
cross the line and pass go
to hide

behind bars
made from the decrepit bones
of loves, embrace?


...

 

[GuiltyPleasure]

taxidermy

from the inside
the bell jar distorts
the ordinary experimental
experience and not
for the better
I peer out at life
inadequately myopic
humanity humanely
ignoring me in kind
we're stranger than strange
pressing to the time piece
counting sleeps to
infinity and a break
but a break needs mending
so back to the bell jar.

 

[tungtied2u]

I am her puppy dog
following behind, faithful and oblivious
tongue hanging out, lips upturned
collared and consumed

by the flex of her calves
the rhythm of her walk,
the sing song of her commands
when she instructs or admonishes

The leash is invisible, yet holds
like a fishhook I've swallowed
pulls at my heart and genitals
whenever she calls my name

 

[champagne1982]

Today I faced a solemn moment
of understanding that such joy
can only be a fleeting instant,
in all the ages of our existence,

All of the important letters,
the learned dissertations,
recorded theses on life, creation
and hallelujah memories pass

in disguise. We think them vital,
distinct to our reality
but instead, like paper cups
and envelopes, the ephemera

of We fades, becoming fuel
for the gas giant to consume
in unimaginable eons to come,
or tomorrow, if we live so long.

 

[RhymeFairy]

I would shave

but cousin It has taken a liking
to barbed wire leggings, long as Texas
short as my memory span.

Days pass, bringing memories.
I try, drowning them out, only to hiccup
a bone
of envy. Coughing spurts
of chrome
and leather, let loose
this vivid imagination.

No more teary eyes, only the best.
Jack sends his regards. Although
he was trailing a wild turkey. I set
him straight
two cubes, shake and swirl
as cream lathers.
Learning the straight, narrow
edge
is harder than I thought ...

 

[Angeline]

Winter is slowly dying up here
it fades in fits and starts today
more snow gone but the yellow
starvling grass points down bent
blades in piebald patches
like a half-washed dog.

I went out in sandals
ever the optimist crunching
on the last crusts of February,
wind blown and blue-toed
I hurried back to the barefoot
carpet and you

said just months to go
before we blow this scene
baby and you've finally
become a Mainer.

 

[GuiltyPleasure]

Confession

I read and it is a bonus
to close the book
and look on the back
at the face of the author,
imagine the voice revealing the words.
Sometimes it's a shock
to see that a female voice
is in fact a man,
or vice versa, a bonus,
a private thrill of achievement.

 

[GuiltyPleasure]

Raspberries

Last summer is going
up in smoke.
Raspberry canes burn
cracklling smokeless
making way for new growth.

Of each clump
one remains, knowing
how it's done
to live once more
and welcome swarms
of bees in their search
for sweetness.

Each eager visit
brings more until,
as fruit appears, they leave
for other flowers.

Stragglers, angered by
children stealing fruit,
sting if they can
but there's a penalty
to pay, death comes
among the ruby jewels
she worked so hard for.

 

[eagleyez]

edited

 

[eagleyez]

Sugar shacks hold a spring harvest
Of Maple slurry,
While the old man stokes hardwood fires
And the distillation proceeds.

Kids shoot skeet behind the barn-
Clay pidgeons slung out-many missed
Some hit dead on.

There is a 37 ford, ironside brussled in alder clump-
They change the load to 12 guage slugs and blast holes
In the derelict vehicle, blowing holes through deepest metals.

I happen along, dog walking ahead. They whisper "he's from away."
I pay no mind as they convene in dope smoking circle.
"Hey old man," they say. "Wanna Toke?

I shuffle in hip boots over toward them and join in.
Still they whisper, even as bowl is passed my way.
"You wanna shoot the old car, Mac."
I puff and ponder-then reply. "Naw Im heading down to the beaverhouse."

"Thank you kindly for the tingle. It shore is a good day to be out in the woods."
I walk to the flowage, knee deep if freezing water, to the monolithic house the Beaver have built, a mound centered in the current of the flowage.

 

[ruminator]

They first appear as shadows against the sky.
Forms undefined but familiar in their movements
Calling out to me as sustreaks or flashes of moonlight
They know me from this distance, in patience bide the bye

Seasons roll the endless wheel of growing old
spinning faster as each one passes, life's momentum
make time stand still for this season coming
I've lost years waiting for the time and chance to not be cold

Jump to make the shadows free at last, unattatched
still coming closer toward a point of new convergence
joined by choice or fate or simply shared direction toward the light
There are no strangers on this road, not forgotten, lost or passed.

great to see you again

 

[eagleyez]

They first appear as shadows against the sky.
Forms undefined but familiar in their movements
Calling out to me as sustreaks or flashes of moonlight
They know me from this distance, in patience bide the bye

Seasons roll the endless wheel of growing old
spinning faster as each one passes, life's momentum
make time stand still for this season coming
I've lost years waiting for the time and chance to not be cold

Jump to make the shadows free at last, unattatched
still coming closer toward a point of new convergence
joined by choice or fate or simply shared direction toward the light
There are no strangers on this road, not forgotten, lost or passed.

great to see you again

Oh my. Seems last we talked we were swappin tales of the sheetrock miseries.

Good to see you as well.

 

[ruminator]

Oh my. Seems last we talked we were swappin tales of the sheetrock miseries.

Good to see you as well.

We recently had extensive repair work to an old farmhouse that had the boiler and baseboard radiant heat units freeze, thaw, burst and flood a section of the house. We had some new help...heh..."what the hell are you doing climbing up here with only 3 screws? " It was the first piece going on the ceiling and the start of a very long day.



I'm ready to hit the road as a vagabond, specialized generalist or generalized specialist...whatever. Somebody has done tooken all my anchors! heh, wonder how many more metaphors I can mix in there before a purist takes me to task, screaming educated corrections in my direction.....I hope it's Lauren...

Life's been good to me so far...but I always got to push it.

 

[Angeline]

We recently had extensive repair work to an old farmhouse that had the boiler and baseboard radiant heat units freeze, thaw, burst and flood a section of the house. We had some new help...heh..."what the hell are you doing climbing up here with only 3 screws? " It was the first piece going on the ceiling and the start of a very long day.



I'm ready to hit the road as a vagabond, specialized generalist or generalized specialist...whatever. Somebody has done tooken all my anchors! heh, wonder how many more metaphors I can mix in there before a purist takes me to task, screaming educated corrections in my direction.....I hope it's Lauren...

Life's been good to me so far...but I always got to push it.

Nobody can smack around a wordsmith like Lauren.

I used to be pretty good at it myself, but three years with whats-his-name has mellowed me. Hey! Three years tomorrow! Really!

 

[ruminator]

Nobody can smack around a wordsmith like Lauren.

I used to be pretty good at it myself, but three years with whats-his-name has mellowed me. Hey! Three years tomorrow! Really!

woohoo! Congratulations! Time flies when it's good.

yup,...you, Lauren...a few others would have me making mistakes on purpose just to get the attention for corrections.

shhh...don't tell her. keep this just between us, ok?

 

[Angeline]

woohoo! Congratulations! Time flies when it's good.

yup,...you, Lauren...a few others would have me making mistakes on purpose just to get the attention for corrections.

shhh...don't tell her. keep this just between us, ok?

Heh, I wouldn't have to--if she sees something egregious enough, she'll swoop in and lay claim to corrections.

And thank you. My prince returns,I see, with Chinese food.

 

[champagne1982]

Heh, I wouldn't have to--if she sees something egregious enough, she'll swoop in and lay claim to corrections.

And thank you. My prince returns,I see, with Chinese food.

I always laugh when I hear that expression... Chinese food. Is it like, fish food? I half expect to see schools of Chinese massing at the surface, like koi.

Happy Anniversary!

 

[Angeline]

I always laugh when I hear that expression... Chinese food. Is it like, fish food? I half expect to see schools of Chinese massing at the surface, like koi.

Happy Anniversary!

Ok, more specifically it was chicken with cashews, hunan chicken, and veggie eggrolls. Not as good as the local Japanese restaurant imo, but we scarfed it up just fine.

And thank you. I can't believe it has been three years we've been living together already. Every day is precious.

 

[TheRainMan]

.....

 

[colddiesel]

*

I’ve been on these highways longer
than I care to admit. Years
pull away, more of me disappears
in children’s faces in the back windows
of passing cars. I like to imagine
I can see and hear that part
of me still, that I’m pressed against glass
watching the world speed up
to read the words I trace in the safehouse
of my own breath, that a piece of me
will always be made of backseat laughter,
that I haven’t left too much behind
in towns I watched shrink
in the rearview—and maybe I can, maybe
I am. But this moving from nowhere
to nowhere else makes that person
hard to keep. Something in all of us
loves a road, and who am I
to say what portion of me I can save
or discard. Perhaps the crazy emptiness
of these black roads is all I deserve. And if
I’m quiet and strange, if I hide away
and hoard one or two or three little memories,
it’s because they’re all that I have left—
even a bleak turnpike grants me those. The truth
is I am afraid to grow old,
to come to terms with a boy who grows
more forgettable as he becomes more distant.
I’ve lost a lot, pissed away much more,
but I haven’t yet forfeited the right
to remember, to look for that face
that might turn my weary body toward home.

The back(black) roads of your mind are an interesting journey.Beautifully crafted. Thanks.

 

[TheRainMan]

The back(black) roads of your mind are an interesting journey.Beautifully crafted. Thanks.

thank you.

you might not think so if you were on them.

 

[ruminator]

thank you.

you might not think so if you were on them.

I admire and appreciate your highly talented work. Thank you for sharing and teaching.

Your comment reminds me of the extremely destructive process of creativity in renovation. The chaotic mess of creating or bringing a vision to reality is sometimes as much work to work through as is the creativity itself.