Thursday, April 24, 2014
Wednesday, April 9, 2014
Treasures
Treasures littered, glittered,
scattered, detritus of mind,
washing dregs, displaying dross,
so the heart does find, in memories,
the gifts are great, like precious gems
arrayed; the past revealed eternally;
our history there to find.
http://dversepoets.com/2014/04/08/poetics-looking-for-treasure/
scattered, detritus of mind,
washing dregs, displaying dross,
so the heart does find, in memories,
the gifts are great, like precious gems
arrayed; the past revealed eternally;
our history there to find.
http://dversepoets.com/2014/04/08/poetics-looking-for-treasure/
Monday, April 7, 2014
Seers
Embryonic memory did borrow sorrowed mind,
as thoughts like turtle scuttlings were hatching, roaming wild,
regrets in sharpened toothpicks to puncture wild relief,
earlobes dangling fatness, did burn from hidden speech.
The ego reached in jagged force, lone fighter on the day,
demand in bitter ripples as soul's aura was betrayed,
and in the slow unwrapping was shame so soon revealed;
grief drew blackened stockings on what must now be healed.
Songs of emerald colour soared, brief snapshots of the past,
the dance of life, in pine-sharp sap was flowing deep and fast,
dissecting all the dreams she held, marshmallows fat and sweet;
bursting buds of almonds, the fruit of love's bright leaf.
Microscope of focussed mind was held in consciousness,
while snakes of fear were homing, through an endless press,
of coastal drifts and mountain mists recorded for all time;
the books of fate were neatly shelved, unseen the Self did hide.
Truth did record the facts of all the child had been and seen,
the woman grown set dainty foot in lemon-scented dreams,
destiny dug deep the roots that birthed her into being;
and offered branches broad and wide; allowed the inner seeing.
Imperfection is the mark of those who walk lost worlds,
so one leg lame, irregular, the psychics ancient call,
and head cocked slightly to the edge and listening for the birds;
so do the shamans hear and know the power of every word.
http://wewritepoems.wordpress.com/2014/03/31/we-wordle-12/#respond
Ms Pie: embryonic, borrowed, turtle
Nicole: toothpicks, earlobes, fatness
emangsteroo: fighter, hatching, jagged
Jules: aura, ripples, unwrapping
purpleinportland: stockings, shame, songs
Marian: color, emerald, snapshots
Misky: marshmallows, pine, sap
Stimmyabby: dissecting, microscope, almonds
Annell: snakes, coastal, leaf
Barbara: record, books, homing
Debi: unseen, lemon, foot
Irene: lame, birds, roots
Friday, April 4, 2014
On grieving
Cold feet of pain did weigh upon my mind,
and walk with shivered flesh upon my days,
as if to dip dead toes into the pool of loss,
that memory would startle from the grave.
The watered ripple of remembered times,
was shaken by the sodden steps you made,
and drowning in the darkness of the past,
the feelings once forgotten were displayed.
There was no pure intent for what you did,
but merely who you were and did create,
new waves within the ocean I denied,
which held the power of reason then to break.
So deep that pit emotion had long dug,
to hide what was so tidily repressed,
that only when the surface had been broke,
could older, darker suffering be addressed.
The clear, reflected image would not hold,
and slurried waves of motion had been set,
adrift upon a new and purposed way;
demanding that the truth should now be met.
http://dversepoets.com/2014/04/03/meetingthebar-emotion-in-poetry/#respond
Wednesday, April 2, 2014
Mockingbird
Mockingbird did taunt, the you and me within,
ego's tea-cake fallen, to have and eat, begin,
as soul does ride the morning road and self sits,
by the window, sighs at melting rain, bewitched,
befits the sky and wind. As spires of churches
distant, rise sharply ever up, so was the bread,
of spirit, scattered, through stars and woods, and
hills. The rabbit hunches by the pool, blue water
tease at life, to read with steady smile, mouth thin
against the strife. Temptation then is swearing,
again, the call is heard, palm in whispered caring,
as south the song does stir. Cold canal meanders,
madness in the mind, as twisting, searing, turning,
apocalyptic ride. Neck of day is stretching, the
throat of night is held, and out of hell are hurling,
the hounds of Fate, full-haunched; eternal tide.
http://wewritepoems.wordpress.com/2014/03/31/we-wordle-12/#respond
Yousei: me you mockingbird
Viv: tea cake says
Ron: window road morning
Hannah: rain melting wind
Abby: churches bread sky
Irene: woods stars read
Marian: rabbit blue water
Roslyn: smile tease life
Debi: swearing thin again
Jules: Palm canal south
Barbara: madness neck out
ego's tea-cake fallen, to have and eat, begin,
as soul does ride the morning road and self sits,
by the window, sighs at melting rain, bewitched,
befits the sky and wind. As spires of churches
distant, rise sharply ever up, so was the bread,
of spirit, scattered, through stars and woods, and
hills. The rabbit hunches by the pool, blue water
tease at life, to read with steady smile, mouth thin
against the strife. Temptation then is swearing,
again, the call is heard, palm in whispered caring,
as south the song does stir. Cold canal meanders,
madness in the mind, as twisting, searing, turning,
apocalyptic ride. Neck of day is stretching, the
throat of night is held, and out of hell are hurling,
the hounds of Fate, full-haunched; eternal tide.
http://wewritepoems.wordpress.com/2014/03/31/we-wordle-12/#respond
Yousei: me you mockingbird
Viv: tea cake says
Ron: window road morning
Hannah: rain melting wind
Abby: churches bread sky
Irene: woods stars read
Marian: rabbit blue water
Roslyn: smile tease life
Debi: swearing thin again
Jules: Palm canal south
Barbara: madness neck out
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