| Heartwood
Posted: 8/14/2007 6:36:46 AM | Hi my sweet friends. I'll be getting with you soon. 
I can look back
at pains I've deeply
felt, many long lasting.
dreams delivered
stillborn by the jagged
forceps of poverty,
incomprehensible cruelties
favored me by my parents'
demons run amok,
iron-clad plans abandoned
in lieu of resigning myself
to what would be the lesser
of invisible evils fought on
behalf of my children.
I can look back on these
and recollect the softness
of tears, the tender comforts
coaxed from tragedy by
the freshness of survival.
Though there were times
I couldn't look another
human in the eye, I
lived through the wilting
decomposition of my
spirit, sensing I could
mourn my own demise
and be reborn--not like
Jesus, not like a season,
but like human love,
that aspect of loving other
people that bit by bit
rebuilds the self.
The last time I was broken
it took eight years to
begin to feel supple again,
the freshness of survival
swept me up into its
arms like a son rescuing
his frail mother from a
burning house. .Something
told me it was not my
time to go.
The
preponderance of self
had shifted in favor of
survival once again.
As you get older
something of
your spirit becomes
brittle.
Something like chlorophyll
is eventually depleted
Carbon-like arms hold
the memory,
till a heartwood
smolders
in the
middle of the forest
crumbling in
on itself. | |
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| My poetry. One I'm working on and whatever else.
Posted: 8/14/2007 1:07:32 PM | I have got to say when I read your post you did make me laugh.... v. wicked sense of humour.... however I did like the poem and I didn't laugh!!!!
But you did make me laugh.... thanks cheeky monkey | |
|
| My poetry. One I'm working on and whatever else.
Posted: 8/14/2007 1:09:36 PM | Timwm -- you are a cheeky monkey....
I read the poem and it didn't make me laugh... however your response did, v. dry sense of humour I like it.... you did make me giggle....
thanks I need to laugh out loud today.. | |
|
| Heartwood
Posted: 8/15/2007 4:37:30 PM | | Tender poem, Bicy, and liked the image of the last stanza! | |
|
| My poetry. One I'm working on and whatever else.
Posted: 8/16/2007 3:54:04 PM | Hi happygolucky2003. I'm delighted you found the laughter here. Welcome, welcome.
There's plenty of tragedipity and comedipity, to stumble on here. Hope you'll check out some more.
Hi Om, my dear friend. Thank you for the comments on that poem. I think I owe you about a thousand hugs.
Oh, I almost forgot. I won't be at the computer much for about a week. Technical difficulties. | |
|
| Love comes again
Posted: 8/16/2007 4:26:34 PM | | As i read through this entire thread i noticed that the poetry was excently written so i just want to say you are all amazing writers and keep up the good work. | |
|
| Love comes again
Posted: 8/19/2007 2:48:36 PM | Hello darkpoeticman:
Thank you so much for your comment on the thread. This is my thread as I am aka
penpalgirl2006, skylook, and pensky. Your comment really brightened my day.
Do feel free to bring your own poetry here.
ANNOUNCEMENT: I'm not going to be posting much for a while. As most of the poets here know, I have a nicotine demon that's just about got the better of me. Unfortunately I have found that just reading the forums makes me want to smoke. I just now discovered this as today is my first day on (or back on) the patch--and I had my first craving a minute ago.
Luckily, my son has revoked my use of his super-kewl computer and I'm too lazy to set up another one at my house right now. So, I'm bound to recouperate in spite of myself.
I'll still be checking email and reading a little along when and where I get access. I even
have a couple of fresh pics I'll probably post this week.
*****To those at the ravincause poetry festival: I love y'all! | |
|
| Love comes again
Posted: 9/4/2007 8:32:40 PM | come back, little pensky...........I miss ya........
smile
I feel the glance of your smile reaching through
the reserve you show to a stranger
are you feeling the same type of pull that I do
and that there is really no danger
it's so seldom I find a kindred soul
who can coax any warmth from this lump of coal
chance it and blind me with the light of your smile
invest in this moment and hush your denial
LS
first, last, Great Virtue | |
|
| Love comes again
Posted: 9/7/2007 4:42:36 PM | Hi my brizo:
My silence, in its way, is golden for me.
I love you people ...seriously I do, but kidding about the tears.
I am convalescing in my home these days. I guess I'm being reintroduced to my natural habitat so to speak. If I can make it here, I'll make it anywhere....
Don't tell anyone, but I'm in the middle of week three without smokes...or alcohol or caffeine, for that matter. Please no applause. The noise might freak me out.
haiku al natural
Snow White, awakened
by impatient, needy dwarves,
sings along "hi ho!" | |
|
| No I'm not her. It's me, bic pen.
Posted: 9/7/2007 4:46:41 PM | Oops. Well guess whose computer I'm using?
Guess I might as well do an REM update here. She has several bulging disks with spurs. This is the final diagnosis of the pain that started the cancer scare a while back. She will see a back specialist.
Well. Have a great weekend pof! | |
|
| this time its really redmother.
Posted: 11/20/2007 8:36:51 PM | Just in case...
If he comes for me, consider this
My message in a bottle
And tell them to look here
Because the night I had him arrested
When I had to run out into the night
And leave him in my house, he called my cell
Phone from my kitchen phone.
He'd found my journal and read to me from it
Mocking me, pronouncing my views of myself as "crap."
Paper is too fragile and too portable.
I know longer trust it
To hold and keep my secets.
That night he tried to get into my computer,
He left a note for me beside it
Notes throughout the house.
He couldn't guess my password
BICPEN knows it and can unlock my mind here.
If he comes for me, consider this
My confession that I have yet to make to
My distant and grouchy priest
Because I am both too ashamed and too proud
To admit my humanity,
But have found absolution
And surely done a harsher penance
For those few nights and days of pleasure & joy
Than any bored old man could devise.
Let it be known that I didn't take communion
After the relationship went sexual
Because I am consciencious and no hypocrite.
At 43, I am to old to play the "village virgin"
But I held out longer than most.
And if I am a "fallen woman"
I still believe I am not completely beyond
The boundaries of God's grace.
If he comes for me, consider this-
He called Nov 18 to tell me his mother's spirit
Came to him from heaven
Sat with him in his truck
And told him the only man that could help me
Is a Florida faith-healer named Lester Somerall.
Though never a religious man
He claims this healer can cast out devils
I asked him if he thought I am possessed.
He was silent. He can think of nothing else to explain
My loss of love for him.
He fears I have developed a split-personality
And begged me to get help to overcome this "cold being" I have become.
I fear for him and myself.
Lester Somerall died in 1996;
Where shall I seek him for help, to free me from this demon-lover?
If he comes for me, consider this
A list of clues:
He keeps his gun under the cushions of his loveseat
How ironic, yes?
He no longer leaves threats on my answering machine
Or cell phone. He avoids the blocks on my phone
By calling from businesses, payphones, "go-phones"
And borrowed cell phones along his route
Through Indiana, Kentucky, Tennessee and Alabama.
Tell the police to check those area codes
Against his route logbook.
If he comes for me, consider this
I was lonely but not reckless
He simply hid his true face for 2 months.
So don't judge me too harshly
Though he will claim I provoked him.
He will come with flowers bought at the grocery store
And will try to win me back.
He loves me truly but his love is twisted now.
He will kill me only as a last resort
In a drunken rage and cry over it later.
And if he does, I know the last words I will hear
Will be " Don't you understand, I LOVE YOU!"
If he comes for me, consider this
My message in a bottle. | |
|
| this time its really redmother.
Posted: 11/21/2007 11:45:56 AM | Hey ya.
I'm not going to comment, because I'm too close to my friend's situation and it's kinda scary.
haiku:
When the day is bleak
and hungry friends both sign on
it's time to share lunch. | |
|
| this time its really redmother.
Posted: 11/21/2007 11:57:39 AM |  A Friend appears out of the blue;
a kind sweet soul....that we all know.
Wishing her the best of The Holiday!
Happy Thanksgiving....and all that comes her way!
hugs jules | |
|
| this time its really redmother.
Posted: 11/21/2007 2:56:55 PM | Hi celestial Jules
Singer of gladness and rhymer of rules
I've only the chance for one more peek.
But our best to you and all in this holiday week!
 | |
|
| this time its really redmother.
Posted: 11/21/2007 7:29:43 PM | REM, wow, that piece said what many might go through.
BicPen, dear sister..;-)
greets from the north, sisters. | |
|
| this time its really redmother.
Posted: 11/21/2007 8:59:38 PM | it's good that you've laid a trail here......now, learn to shoot.....being able to defend yourself gives a certain mental freedom....
you both are in my thoughts.... | |
|
| this time its really redmother.
Posted: 8/17/2008 7:59:23 AM | a feel for the real
Reality kisses the face of the real
feel, baby feel
in surreal technicolor
your duller world illuminated
by truths that weren't anticipated
as you rise to the surface
of your tranquilized dream
and face your own pain
scream, baby scream
take it all in
let it all out
who cares if you shout
when you shut out the pain
you shut out the joy
it hurts at first
when you're back in circulation
returning from vacation on your medication
but now life's what it is
and not what it would seem
you see the world
with nothing in between
beam, baby beam
LS 8/15/08 | |
|
| this time its really redmother.
Posted: 8/21/2008 7:31:15 PM | Wow a fresh brizo has swept upon this stale place.
Thank you.
It took me awhile to find my thread. I had no idea you had been here Brizo, till now. I traced myself back from "firstline lastline part one."
So yeah, I'm back.   on a roll... foot to mouth no doubt....
 I mostly just wanna have my own real estate here to bring for tucking in my little mini-me souls.
Welcome anyone who wants to be treated to my sloppy hospitality. Posts here will be met mostly with an icon of some sort. But I do read them all. Usually, I understand them all eventually, too. I never was very good at explication.
I love anybody who dares torisk revealing him/her self through poetic intentions...that includes, even me!!!
bic | |
|
| My poetry. One I'm working on and whatever else.
Posted: 8/21/2008 8:37:57 PM | good, I was hoping I'd get you to post....was trying to bring you to page one when I knew you were online...
The pirate
at the annual play of the buccaneers’ ball
I wore an eye patch
and a poet's shirt
while Jack Sparrow rolled
in six feet of dirt
I was hoping
to walk the plank
loosen my breeches
and fill in the blank
to take what I wanted
in true pirate way
without hesitation
or any delay
I can only give you
a rapine smile
and chocolate coins
and saucy style
while you plan to breach
my breeches
and we will share
a memory
of moonlit sand and beaches
LS 8/18/08  | |
|
| My poetry. One I'm working on and whatever else.
Posted: 8/22/2008 1:36:08 PM | OMG Brizo!! THAT LAST POST, "The Pirate"
How can I not react when awed!!!
Just dunno how you do it.
Absolutely marvelous for YOU to always know when I'm on. Whether I'm alert or not, I can almost never fail to react to your poetry. | |
|
| My poetry. One I'm working on and whatever else.
Posted: 8/22/2008 2:55:38 PM | - THE UNICORN -
Deep in the woodlands dark and old
Smelling of lichens, leaves, and mold
Tendrils of sunlight reach the floor
Places that humans dont explore
Wefts of a mist that rides the morn
Dappled on white the unicorn
Feeding in silence upon the scrub
Midst the small patches where sun gives love
Raising it's head with long fine mane
Matted with brambles but still not plain
Spired and long the horn on it's head
Only the stallions have them it's said
Twitching on shoulder from morning flies
Magic unfolding within it's eyes
Rearing its head to scent the air
Then with a bound it's no longer there
Swiftly the hooves drum on the floor
Unicorn racing so strong and sure
Back to the herd his mares made the call
Heard by the ears of one and all
There yet a stallion young and quite bold
Stamping to challange the male so old
But the great unicorn is not afraid
Charging the newcommer and his parade
Sweeping his neck until clashing head
Forcing the younger horn down instead
Then with a bite and a swift chase
Sees off the rival running with grace
Back to the herd steps the great beast
Happy to see his mares to say the least
Back to the feeding, fresh in the morn
Elegant stallion, grand unicorn
- Erik - | |
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| My poetry. One I'm working on and whatever else.
Posted: 8/22/2008 6:31:27 PM | I was just signing on wistfully, but nothing serious, just a little teeny wistful, relatively speaking.
And then
a musty smell of earth, older than real
and a glow formed somehow and fairy dust glitter
When what should I gather with these eyes
but none other than the deepest fantasy
of unicorn rivalry
unicorn grandeur,
gifted to my very thread
the magic of collective
subconscious
no understated romance reminder
to jumpstart my wistful heart.
Thanks, thanks, thanks Eric. | |
|
| My poetry. One I'm working on and whatever else.
Posted: 8/23/2008 6:00:10 AM | Awwwwwwwwwww for you,... any time! Glad you liked the unicorn poem. I shall have to sprinkle a few other works here and there.
- MORE TO COME -
Planning for days the viking will be
Just to regale elder thoughts with thee
Lending a word to a dear friend
Poetic offerings for Bicpen
So keep an eye upon the shore
Look to the beaching of ship and lore
When the grand Skald shall share of old
Tales of the days of kings so bold
Tales of warriors driven to fight
Kennings of maidens bound in the night
Dragonprowed ships and songs of force
Tales of the Ettins, Gods, and Norse!
- Erik - | |
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