not sure how many words

[Tathagata]

For the Osiris

Wise one, deeper than my own bones
once the observer, the angel underneath
now you hover over me in ways that make me think
anything is likely: water and earth may mix.
My imaginary eye, my pillar
Center of the temple
partner in crime, you become real
in harvest, in the gathering of your limbs each day
the bones that spread themselves in luxury
over me as we become landscape.
New creature, first priest
you roam my corridors as your own underworld
you admire their darknesses.
O you are the teeth of mountains
the spiral of sand
You are a sleeping planet that I watch from a distance
You are what I look around corners to see
You are a red ribbon around my waist
You are a new flame in my belly.

I really like this, some great language
see if this reads smoother to you?

For the Osiris

Wise one, deeper than my own bones
once the observer, the angel underneath
now you hover over me in ways that make me think
anything is likely: water and earth may mix.

My imaginary eye, my pillar
Center of the temple
partner in crime, you become real
in harvest, in the gathering of your limbs each day
the bones that spread themselves in luxury
over me as we become landscape.

New creature, first priest
you roam my corridors as your own underworld
you admire their darknesses.
O you are the teeth of mountains
the spiral of sand

You are a sleeping planet that I watch from a distance
what I look around corners to see
You are a red ribbon around my waist
a new flame in my belly.

A few line breaks and taking out half the repetition in the end lets the reader slow down and absorb more.
They linger over each verse before moving on.

The end part lets them take two images together instead of one at a time.
Some times it makes for smoother reading also.

I like the poem and it's language
Don't feel this is in any way a criticism.
Simply an option you might not have seen
Doesn't mean it's right, or any better
You do what you feel is right

again, lovely piece

 

[Tathagata]

.....

 

[unpredictablebijou]

Tath,

I fucking LOVE that.

It was my breakfast this morning. It has crunchy goodness. and a creamy center.

bj

 

[Tathagata]

Tath,

I fucking LOVE that.

It was my breakfast this morning. It has crunchy goodness. and a creamy center.

bj

I added granola



Glad you liked it Bij and thank you

 

[Paris_Garters]

I really like this, some great language
see if this reads smoother to you?

A few line breaks and taking out half the repetition in the end lets the reader slow down and absorb more.
They linger over each verse before moving on.

The end part lets them take two images together instead of one at a time.
Some times it makes for smoother reading also.

I like the poem and it's language
Don't feel this is in any way a criticism.
Simply an option you might not have seen
Doesn't mean it's right, or any better
You do what you feel is right

again, lovely piece

Thank you so much for your help! I was definitely hopeing for critique from the poets here, and I appreciate your honesty. I took your suggestions, and I agree it looks much better now.

I know it takes time to give feedback and I'm grateful.

 

[Tathagata]

.....

 

[wildsweetone]

daylight saving has arrived
bringing with it noise
and chaos that crashes
through the shell
of hard earned peace
i nailed around my soul.
i want to hide again,
to curl up like a dried biscuit
and let the bounced population
pass me by. their happiness
triggers a Spring flush
in others, but all i see
in my green haze
overrides the call
of the garden thrush.

 

[Tathagata]

.....

 

[chipotle]

diana
leaves summer for fall
just like me
one sticky night.
she swings low,
fat light shining
on two tents.

two tents separated by near forty feet.

two tents separated by near forty years.

in that tent
sleeping bags conquer every stone,
the heat is a trifling nuisance,
and glow sticks festoon the eaves
like some lost cantina
—well, minus the beer,
and minus the dancing girls.

in my tent
every rock is a dagger,
the heat is fearless,
and the light is feckless,
the puny spawn of a broken flashlight.
the beer, though, is cold.
and easy.

we walk the trails for the river
come day.
i realize how much my laugh differs
from theirs.

my laugh is shaped not just by glee
and by the moment
but my time’s accretion.
my laugh has been turned on
a full life’s lathe,
shaped not only by dreams
and accomplishments
but by the scrape of compromise
and disappointment, too.

my laugh is a bassoon.
theirs are pennywhistles.

i follow them into the river
so cold
and lower myself slowly.
I sink,
the water rushes over me
the grime and stink lifts off of me,
and I hear
for a fleeting moment
my own pennywhistle.

 

[Tathagata]

diana
leaves summer for fall
just like me
one sticky night.
she swings low,
fat light shining
on two tents.

two tents separated by near forty feet.

two tents separated by near forty years.

in that tent
sleeping bags conquer every stone,
the heat is a trifling nuisance,
and glow sticks festoon the eaves
like some lost cantina
—well, minus the beer,
and minus the dancing girls.

in my tent
every rock is a dagger,
the heat is fearless,
and the light is feckless,
the puny spawn of a broken flashlight.
the beer, though, is cold.
and easy.

we walk the trails for the river
come day.
i realize how much my laugh differs
from theirs.

my laugh is shaped not just by glee
and by the moment
but my time’s accretion.
my laugh has been turned on
a full life’s lathe,
shaped not only by dreams
and accomplishments
but by the scrape of compromise
and disappointment, too.

my laugh is a bassoon.
theirs are pennywhistles.

i follow them into the river
so cold
and lower myself slowly.
I sink,
the water rushes over me
the grime and stink lifts off of me,
and I hear
for a fleeting moment
my own pennywhistle.

wow
that's excellent work

 

[wildsweetone]

dawn brings that ever-present southerly,
the chilling windshift we hoped Spring
left behind. The birds don't mind
they still return with open wings
and tiny tummies simply wanting
sustenance. I watch them breakfast,
sip decaf and let Belgian chocolates melt
on my tongue, knowing the breeze of words
is almost ready to paint the page.
The long grass bends, its topmost tips
tap the ground where last night's stars lay
sleeping. Pink cherry blossoms
catch the sun, keep it safe for the day
within perfect petals that tease me
for illusive Haiku.
Weeds out the back praise and applaud the beginning
of act one, sway Hallelujahs of prayer and peace
to everyone above. Watching their slowing,
my sign for work, I spend a moment in thanks
for vision, in thanks for life, in thanks for change.

 

[wildsweetone]

awake
to the somber light
the wet newspaper colored
sky slipping
under curtains
rancid spilled milk
spreading over the counter top
three days of dribble
drizzle
has made me
a marshan
damp and clammy
the world is truly
an oyster

i saw your edit Tath... i'm not sure you need 'spilled' or 'spilt' - 'rancid milk spreading over the counter top' says it's spilt... i think

you sure set me up for that oyster too. wow your description is just that. awesome

 

[wildsweetone]

wow
that's excellent work

ditto! and welcome back (i know i know you but i lost your PM and i've forgotten, please send me another! )

 

[Tathagata]

i saw your edit Tath... i'm not sure you need 'spilled' or 'spilt' - 'rancid milk spreading over the counter top' says it's spilt... i think

you sure set me up for that oyster too. wow your description is just that. awesome

excellent idea

thank you

I'm also wondering if I should say " martian" or leave that " joke" spelling in?

 

[Tathagata]

,,,,,

 

[Tathagata]

,,,,,

 

[Angeline]

the blink of an eye,
sneer of a lip,
breath,
that transports
jungle mind symbols,
are all launched
into the cannibal jaws
of impermanence.

grist for the mill,
bones for my bread.

water ice clouds.
water ice clouds.

I'm telling Eve about your jungle mind symbols and cannibal jaws. I think they'll excite her.

 

[DeepAsleep]

1sayspine

1
say spine, mean:
gunbarrel.
mean firepit, mean
burnt rocks.

2
she is lying
down, the coals of her spine are roasting
the plump deception of her heart,
she speaks smoke.
i am not the only naked poem
in this room.

3
she is loving me like a punch in the jaw.
i am biting my tongue to keep myself
from i love you, i am
a collection of intestines
and no guts, i am
running from love i'd have to fight for i am
not home, i am not
liquid fire poured on sunset streets i am
not burning.

4
i am not burning,
i am having the end of the world for breakfast, i am
without the guts to digest it, i am
biting my tongue.
she is waiting to roast me
on the flat stone of her breast, i am not
fit for consumption, i will
not burn, i am biting my tongue, i am
in love with my shadow in the morning,
because i don't see it when i stare at the sun,

5
i am sure you are my shadow.
i am not certain i can put you behind me at sunset.
i have bitten through my tongue and left you
only with bloody kisses to remember my mouth.

6
iamiamnot, i have
no clumsy muscle
to cook over your spine
cook my tongue,
i am not yet ready
to speak to you.

 

[wildsweetone]

it lays on the ground, extra water
that fell from above, a gift
to cleanse, to create, to combine
old dust into one ball
of mud, rolled along the ground
gathering wayside dirt
and the remnants of the moon
that lay there, as if flattened
by last night's deluge, forged
from its niche above
to lay forgotten, rotting
and pinched now as the spent
sin of humans gathers pace
and rolls down the riverbank.

 

[wildsweetone]

the sun is blessing me,
placing me upon the leafs
of weeds and blossoms,
dressing me in dawn diamonds
and Spring blue sky,
grounding my steps
with an offering i can not resist.

 

[sophieloves]

1
say spine, mean:
gunbarrel.
mean firepit, mean
burnt rocks.

2
she is lying
down, the coals of her spine are roasting
the plump deception of her heart,
she speaks smoke.
i am not the only naked poem
in this room.

3
she is loving me like a punch in the jaw.
i am biting my tongue to keep myself
from i love you, i am
a collection of intestines
and no guts, i am
running from love i'd have to fight for i am
not home, i am not
liquid fire poured on sunset streets i am
not burning.

4
i am not burning,
i am having the end of the world for breakfast, i am
without the guts to digest it, i am
biting my tongue.
she is waiting to roast me
on the flat stone of her breast, i am not
fit for consumption, i will
not burn, i am biting my tongue, i am
in love with my shadow in the morning,
because i don't see it when i stare at the sun,

5
i am sure you are my shadow.
i am not certain i can put you behind me at sunset.
i have bitten through my tongue and left you
only with bloody kisses to remember my mouth.

6
iamiamnot, i have
no clumsy muscle
to cook over your spine
cook my tongue,
i am not yet ready
to speak to you.

for christ's sake - i need to study this. it speaks to me. phrases jump right off and out the screen at me and i need to understand it all better.

i will read and re-read.

i think i can learn things from this.

 

[eagleyez]

I tripped and fell thru the door
Deep Asleep
woke
me
up.

 

[Tathagata]

,,,,,

 

[unpredictablebijou]

STC Anguish, comments MOST welcome

fall

I will not fall
the leather holds
wrists and rope

suspended, an artful toy
I will stay. I lean in
to the shocks, joyful

although
you shake my spine
and the bridge sways
and topples
I am embraced

I will not fall
though I collapse
to destruction, though you play
with my revival,
hanging here
a standing feast, a muscled howl
with no escape, I will not fall.

Built for me, the leather holds
in careful strength, to fit
like jewelry, like a cradle
with delicacy round
the bone, and though you fall
upon me like a lion on a lamb
still I will hang as lush as fruit
and only drop into your hand.

Though my legs are water
and my arms are ghosts,
you hold me firm
and though I take
the force of you against my sail of spine
I will not fall

 

[wildsweetone]

I tripped and fell thru the door
Deep Asleep
woke
me
up.

hope you stay awake, i'm missing your poetry