not sure how many words

[UnderYourSpell]

What did happen? So few people still take that still minute to think - what if it happens again? Here it seemed more important to spend up to four hours in traffic waiting to cross the borfer to "save" a few bucks. Sick....

Some Muslims raised a banner saying 'British soldiers burn in hell' and burnt a poppy

 

[eagleyez]

What did happen? So few people still take that still minute to think - what if it happens again? Here it seemed more important to spend up to four hours in traffic waiting to cross the borfer to "save" a few bucks. Sick....

Like driving clear cross town to save 39 cents on a cup of coffee.

We used to get busloads of Canadians at the big book/music store I managed in Maine.
Calculating the exchange rate and getting it right was tedious. They would always haggle and my staff would call me in and I'd say "close enough for Jazz." Then I would give them the tiny quid they desired and send them out to the bus.

I like your poem from above alot. I was strangely moved and very aware yesterday, Armistice Day.

Now its the next day, however, a frosty one in the mountains, complete with a gallon of good coffee in the quiet of the pre-dawn hour.

Nice to see you Guilty Pleasure.

 

[GuiltyPleasure]

Some Muslims raised a banner saying 'British soldiers burn in hell' and burnt a poppy

.....but those rotten apples don't make the whole barrel bad. I expect they were young and disaffected, it's too bad there are factions on both sides stirring the pot. If only a miracle would happen and we could ALL get along. The way the environment is going religion will be the last thing on our minds while we battle the elements.

 

[GuiltyPleasure]

Like driving clear cross town to save 39 cents on a cup of coffee.

We used to get busloads of Canadians at the big book/music store I managed in Maine.
Calculating the exchange rate and getting it right was tedious. They would always haggle and my staff would call me in and I'd say "close enough for Jazz." Then I would give them the tiny quid they desired and send them out to the bus.

I like your poem from above alot. I was strangely moved and very aware yesterday, Armistice Day.

Now its the next day, however, a frosty one in the mountains, complete with a gallon of good coffee in the quiet of the pre-dawn hour.

Nice to see you Guilty Pleasure.

I love those bright days after rain when the mountains look like huge rock buns dusted with sugar. That's the joy of Vancouver, we get rained on - up on the mountains it's snow, waiting there if you want it .

Glad you liked the poem, thanks. I find my eyes welling up at least a dozen times in Rememberence Day, hearing The Last Post or catching sight of kids laying a wreath on some monument to past horrors.

Oh yes! GP, I'd forgotten, honestly..... So long ago.

 

[UnderYourSpell]

.....but those rotten apples don't make the whole barrel bad. I expect they were young and disaffected, it's too bad there are factions on both sides stirring the pot. If only a miracle would happen and we could ALL get along. The way the environment is going religion will be the last thing on our minds while we battle the elements.

It's not the first time something like that's happened it happened in my town when the lads marched home, can you imagine what wouuld happen in their country if we did the same? Shot on the spot most likely seems racial discrimination only works in one direction

 

[eagleyez]

pitch black and im lost in the newtown,
blinker been on for a halfmile,
the darknight the mountains bring
exemplifies the busy color,
as my eyes strain
to catch my road.

skiffle and skaffle,
there goes the nylon string
broomstick bass,

as i drive like Odysseus,
or shuffle mail on 3rd shift
where the radio saves your life,

a vibraphone rings full of reverb,
the messaging and the riddles,
headlights coming on moderately,

turn uphill,
im a dogbark from home.

 

[UnderYourSpell]

The lilac still holds her leaves
when others have lost their golden gowns,
entwined with honeysuckle
she waits to bear her snowy shroud.

Do you think 'snowy' is ok there instead of 'snow' before I go any further? Softens the line I thought

 

[Angeline]

The lilac still holds her leaves
when others have lost their golden gowns,
entwined with honeysuckle
she waits to bear her snowy shroud.

Do you think 'snowy' is ok there instead of 'snow' before I go any further? Softens the line I thought

It works. You could say something like "ivory" or "crystal" and be more metaphoric. Just an idea.

 

[UnderYourSpell]

It works. You could say something like "ivory" or "crystal" and be more metaphoric. Just an idea.

you're right it needs a different word but not sure that a shroud is either ivory or crystal ........ will have a think, I've been wandering around my huge back garden again!

winters, the blizzards, frozen, freezing, arctic

 

[Angeline]

you're right it needs a different word but not sure that a shroud is either ivory or crystal ........ will have a think, I've been wandering around my huge back garden again!

winters, the blizzards, frozen, freezing, arctic

Should it be a shroud? That's a word connoting death, which is of course appropriate for winter. But if a shroud can be snow why does it have to be otherwise literal? (I'm just trying to push you in different directions--if they ain't workin, that's fine lol. I have to go out for a while and then come back and write more.)

 

[UnderYourSpell]

Should it be a shroud? That's a word connoting death, which is of course appropriate for winter. But if a shroud can be snow why does it have to be otherwise literal? (I'm just trying to push you in different directions--if they ain't workin, that's fine lol. I have to go out for a while and then come back and write more.)

well I thought cloak at first trying to tie it in with the gown in a former line, last year the snow was so heavy on the branches they nearly broke and bent close to the ground (hence the shroud) and I had to go out with a broom and knock it off!

 

[Obsequium]

Welcome Home...

Morning tea holds regret as only morning light can show.
And I'm left with need to revisit that which I abandoned lives ago.
Your snide little note came today interrupting the dawns first glow,
Three words, the message clear "Divergence Welcome Home"
So typical of heir apparent, without signature or even smug of claim.
Thoughts passed through my head to throw the cup at the messenger.
My mind ablazed with resounding taunts just to acknowledge the assault.
Fingers rubbing in furious rage until they touch the embossed lettering.
Sorrowful tears fill my sight at the words that touch my heart,
"Für Gott, Fürst und Vaterland" For God, Prince and Fatherland,
Again, the motto tries to call their wondering child home.
Resolved by the years of my freedom on far shores so happily played.
I scribble this reply on the back of a paper bag.
"according to who's lexicon God's or Lucifer's".
No signature required. **

Obsequium

 

[eagleyez]

the whole thing elongates,
with deaths and funeral road trips
and child birthdays rolled into one
cold seasons sigh,

like my personal solar system,
revolving around my mind-
while the heart as moon,
regulates the tide of my blood
deeper down in hidden networks,
liqiud and self propelled.

Hunting for stars lately,
in Chagall skies of December,
sad red rooftops bend in the
snowy wind,
My feet are good for walking.

 

[butters]

the whole thing elongates,
with deaths and funeral road trips
and child birthdays rolled into one
cold seasons sigh,

like my personal solar system,
revolving around my mind-
while the heart as moon,
regulates the tide of my blood
deeper down in hidden networks,
liquid and self propelled.

Hunting for stars lately,
in Chagall skies of December,
sad red rooftops bend in the
snowy wind,
My feet are good for walking.

your feet are good for walking. this write is good for the heart of anyone who reads it...

 

[eagleyez]

at 4am the old man checks the gaspumps,
a dizzying mountain up above, the color of ash,
blowing smoke rings with my coldbreath
i see Orion licking beech and white oak.


the tank man measures his well,
bus to Atlanta hisses and rolls,
79c colombian, matches and the friday paper,
i wish the whole day could stay black like morning.

As april is the cruelest month,
So day breaks like glass.
Optics and dust remove
the delicious shade of night,
the world at low tide.

 

[PandoraGlitters]

Susan's Hands

Wise woman doesn't need to keep
us at her hems. She has dogs
to lapsit, reads children
stories as if words were threaded
through her lips then
sewn to the page.

When we are grown, she reels us
out, each one a kite, hanging
uncertainly in air until she
tugs us into the updraft. Her warm eyes
follow us closely, smile at our flights
and share our journeys, feeling with
her fingers each dip into branches,
each volley into clouds, even when
her lids are closed, her hands still,
crossed over her chest.

Susan is antithesis to the cold myth
of Helen who launched only ships.
Susan launches souls, multitudes
into cloud-whipped sky, where we fly
in the safety of feeling that in her hands
are tethered
tight our strings.



Thank you to my dear friend who launched, mentored, laughed, loved and taught me so very much about life, love, teaching and friendship. You made a huge difference in my life as you did in so many. You are loved and you are missed.

 

[Palba_Noruda]

Morning tea holds regret as only morning light can show.


Obsequium

the whole thing elongates,

at 4am the old man checks the gaspumps,

Susan's Hands

Goodness, beautiful poetry. Thanks for sharing

 

[vrosej10]

at 4am the old man checks the gaspumps,
a dizzying mountain up above, the color of ash,
blowing smoke rings with my coldbreath
i see Orion licking beech and white oak.


the tank man measures his well,
bus to Atlanta hisses and rolls,
79c colombian, matches and the friday paper,
i wish the whole day could stay black like morning.

As april is the cruelest month,
So day breaks like glass.
Optics and dust remove
the delicious shade of night,
the world at low tide.

WOW! I am gobsmacked. That's sum good poetry!

 

[eagleyez]

down here ya see,
we gots banjas and serpents of all description,
mudslides and creeks that roll like 69 barracudas,
good mexican and chinese, take out or eat in,
the occasional tornado and smallish black bears
clangin thru a stack of galvanized rubbish cans,

n evry once in a while the neighbor gets just far enough
to park the truck on his lawn, gets out and kisses the ground hes so happy he made it home, and to the right one even, by god!

but ya never seen anything as silly as a saltshakers worth of snow
to drive a place into a serious coniption.
Don get me wrong, I love these mountains with all the hippies and dippies,
new agers mixin it up with old timers, most everyone a fan of music.

But good gawd, as on who lived downeast way noth of bahstahn for many moons, just drive the cah,
er, better yet, pahk the cah, jethro.

"Theres a southern accent where I come from,
and the Yankees call us dumb."

Tom Petty fades away....


There now, i feel better.

 

[Angeline]

down here ya see,

<snip>

There now, i feel better.

You're a goofy Gus, you know that? And it's one of the many reasons I love you.

 

[Angeline]

Laura and Phil and Tim,
once as bright as new pennies in May
now are lost in the same starry scrim
that has stolen my youth away.
Even winter then was a child
ice bright as new pennies in May
and I can't seem to be reconciled
to the hope that has slipped from my hands.

Even winter then was a child
and snow dared not blanket my plans
when I dreamed in their song and my city
though hope had slipped from my hands.

But why give a tuppance for pity?
They were soulful and strident and deep.
Once I dreamed in their song and my city,
but now I dream only in sleep.
Laura and Phil and Tim
who were soulful and strident and deep
now are lost in the same starry scrim.

 

[Angeline]

West End Blues

It’s a weary kind of sass
flourished in a high sweet tone
then a drum ticks like a clock
someone says mm hmm hmm

Shout somethin new been sung
in a lazy easy horn
with a bounce behind the blur
of a weary kind of sass

 

[Angeline]

Hot zombie girl
seeks single corpse
cool dead
and handsome
shambling
a must.

 

[GuiltyPleasure]

After the Storm

just because

 

[PoetGuy]

Poème d'amour

La mer est très calme aujourd'hui
Ses jambes sont lisses comme le verre
Ses yeux bleus sereine et profonde
Mais elle n'est pas l'eau mais la terre