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| Love internally
Posted: 6/2/2007 5:11:44 PM | If I were sensible
it should have been
the gun threats
but it was the mailbox
I had labeled
with our last name
dizzy with land lust
and wifely dreams
the cold water shock
of your unguarded words
after ten years
"I'm not ready
to make that kind
of commitment"
I almost died
of hypothermia
that moment I knew...
I moved it
to Ohio
after our divorce
gave it away
tremulously
and broke down
afterwards
the mailbox
would look nice
out here......
should have
kept it
LS 6/02/07 | |
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| reposting topics for new page
Posted: 6/3/2007 7:49:51 PM | Wow! I'm amazed at the activity over the weekend - just got in from visiting my dad this weekend. I lookforward to coming back alert in the morning and reading all your post! Meanwhile...nite-nite
I love watching different writers takes on the same subject,so lets play
A few starting points
the color of his/her hair is like...
God
that moment I knew...
altered states of consciousness
the sea
animals
Remember,the topics are optional, great free verse welcome anytime.
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| Once Man's Words of Gods
Posted: 6/5/2007 5:12:14 PM | Once Man’s Words of Gods
So’eth go’eth a heart so tender
Hither to new then fro
As now and then as how
Before feigned fall
From flaccid pall
Be it then as now later
Or never be will ever still
A broken heart bemoaned a God
Lost forever afore be he
Pride fall’eth before we go
To reap as we would sow
So know’eth little of little good
In heart of Man doth reside
Of a matter made with little sense
Nor resplendent potent recompense
May not bring but so little
More than what you’ve held
Already in heart to store
For such as this a rainy day
That never came now as then
On such an evil wicked wind | |
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| Belmar Musings
Posted: 6/5/2007 7:05:41 PM | Belmar Musings
My muse these Days a darkened Shore
Beneath a blackened, sullen Sky
Devoid of Stars, before the Storm.
Dawn breaks, Red with its Fury
Fierce Winds roil both Surf and Sand.
Rain drenches withered Flowers
Which gasp, and clasp to every drop.
Unsure what Tomorrow brings
Or when likely like to bloom anew.
As Precipitating Inspiration Falls
To Soften harden Heart again
And feed the Garden with its Tears. | |
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| new from mother
Posted: 6/5/2007 9:50:08 PM | Moon-tan
My inner Druid is telling me
I gotta work on my moon-tan
That I'm long overdue for
Dancing in a sacred grove,
Skinny-dipping in a holy river
Drinking deeply from healing springs.
I gotta work on my moon-glow
My skin has gone all bland 'neath these clothes
Gonna soak up some moonbeams
Let them flow over me
Like aloe vera cause I've been burned.
Sol is unkind to Irish girls,
Refuses them the fashionable golden glow
Offers only the bi-polar extremes of
"Sunkisses" my granny called freckles
These gentle little lovebites of pigment
Or I'm marked, red-skinned and crying
Like the mark remaining after a slap.
My inner Druid is telling me
I gotta work on my moon-tan
So, tonight,when the neighborhood goes dark
I'm turning on the sprinklers
Dropping my robe behind the cedar bush
To skip and hum like a drunken sprite
Till I feel I start to feel the tingle
Of sweet luancy.
Yeah man, I gotta lay out in the moon
On a quilt in the grass and study the stars
Embracing the dark like a lover
Waiting for the night to illuminate my soul
If asked to explain a moon-tan-glow
To a hard baked, bronze hard world
I'd say its the difference between
Goth anemia and creamy fair skin
Its the quality of light that seperates
The practical off-white of stoneground flour
From the dirty white opalescene
Of mother of pearl.
I gotta work on my moon-glow....
(with obvious inspration from VanMorison's "Moondance"
and Cat Steven's "Moonshadow") | |
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| The Women of MCGregors Bay
Posted: 6/5/2007 10:10:46 PM | Ha I was listening to van all night tonight! But this one was inspired by your moontanning.
Bathing in the moonlight
Stars whisper the way
Bathing in the moonlight
Down at MCGregors Bay
The fishing boats have all come home
The men have found their rest
The women come to thank the gods
For keeping them in their trust.
The years worst storm had passed on by
Trees rooted from the ground
And all the fishing boats were out
The men all presumed drowned
Yet the women of MCGregors Bay
Met at the docks again
And cast a circle in the hut
That sheltered from the rain
They followed custom very well
Had all been clearly taught
They lit the candles one by one
And each held the same thought
They held their menfolk in their hearts
And held them steady there
Like a shippers winch they pulled
With one thought aware.
They did not fear, did not respond
To the visions of the men
But held the thought of their return
And life going on with them.
For seven hours they all stood in trance
And never once gave in
They held until the last boat came
Safely to shore again.
Bathing in the moonlight
Stars whisper the way
Bathing in the moonlight
Down at MCGregors Bay | |
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| The Women of MCGregors Bay
Posted: 6/6/2007 8:19:41 PM | unfathomable God
I look to the crisp, cold
vastness of the sky
enigma greets me
did that star wink?
the sheer magnitude
of the universe
gleefully mocking
human inventory
I feel your love
is shown in sweeps
of stars
vivid flowers
verdant mountain forests
the sweetness of sex
and the young that follow | |
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| The Women of MCGregors Bay
Posted: 6/6/2007 8:29:23 PM | | red earth mother, it was brizo who kindly pointed your thread out to me, and I wanted to mention that "To The Diver From The Beloved" blew me away. I hope you see fit to submit it for publication (if it's not already so). It deserves a potentially wider audience. Wonderful imagistic allegory. | |
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| Free Verse Poetry Festival
Posted: 6/6/2007 8:35:01 PM | Thanks Rory - you made my day! I wrotethat poem years ago and just took it out to rework it. I've never really been secure about this poem , I always liked itbut I wasn't sure if anyone else would.
Some of my stuff is published, I submit when the whim hits me.
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| LOVE AND LIFE
Posted: 6/6/2007 9:27:22 PM | a person may have many loves, so it's said, and only but once in a lifetime do two lost souls meet. we have but this one life, therefore we must not waste it looking for "perfect" as it does not nor will it ever exsist. love, true love,can be found by stopping and taking the time to really get know someone and look to the beauty that lies deep within us all. physical beauty may only last so long, it's like that of rose,here for only a sjort time until it fades and eventually is lost, but inner beauty will last forever in the heart and soul of the one who truly possesses it and is not always founf by some, but only by those who know how and where to look. let us not always be distracted by the outer beauty, but let us truly make the effort to see the beauty in everyone and everything. thank you REM for allowing me the oppertunity to post one of my own original writings. i'm sorry it doesn't rhyme, but it comes fro the thoughts in my heart. : | |
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| Love internally-praise
Posted: 6/8/2007 11:28:12 AM | Xxttian------that was really good-I remember first kisses like that and the remembering of first kisses like that and the wondering after all the years--- very goodwork very thoughtful! Welcome to the Festival and come again!
Welcome also to sweetdreamer
Brizo --
dizzy with land lust
and wifely dreams
the cold water shock
of your unguarded words
Great poem ----how do any of us ever survive love?
Autumnlovely piece but these words caught me
have wondered what it would be like
to strip naked and feel the cool earth beneath me
the wind crying through the trees
there is something unexplainable
a church of the spirits
the hymns sung in unison with the spirit.
SweetSugarSugar- welcome back and thanks for posting
Is this anyway to live and love you might ask ?
It's the only way I know how... | |
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| praise,greetings and salutations
Posted: 6/8/2007 11:40:37 AM | Thank you Wicked Wabbit for your wonderful and kind words.
Welcometo Pickles,MysteriousStar,SuReal!
ALways welcome Ravincause! Have you written a tune to McGregorsBay?
Ballad format would lend itself nicely. Damn,I miss my piano!
Always welcome my Thorn and the poetic roses he bears
Brizo -Snapshot- lovelypeice- complete--a snap shot in words
I suggested the topics and didn't really write about any of them
Thecolorof his/her hair came about on a recent date, man with the most incredible curls. Reminded me of lyrics by Paul Simon
Effortless music from the Cameroons
the spinning darkness of her hair
Conversationna crowded roomgoing nowhere. | |
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| praise,greetings and salutations
Posted: 6/10/2007 3:58:07 PM | the sea
salty mother
rock me in waves
clean wounds
and nails
to startling whiteness
let me ride
the foaming crest
into the shore
again and more
reheat myself
on warm beach sand
and wear sun's kiss
with damp salt air
within my hair
you bring us food
the crab, the clam
the squid
I miss you
in this land locked state
your peace, your violence
your grace...
when I return
my senses smell
and dampness swells
my skin
and all my twelfth house
yearnings
wake, and draw me
to my kin
the calling of the mother
and the corresponding answer
from within | |
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| Xanadu
Posted: 6/10/2007 5:51:33 PM | Believe it's been done before, sorry, sue me
A warm breeze flows down from the hills
A zephyr of exotic scents and flowers
Xanadu, high on the highest unreachable crest
Sparkles in the sun, blue sky and clouds above
Dry dusty fields on the flat brown plain
Flies bite and buzz, sweat beads on sun-baked brow
The worker works, breaking dirt, and looking down
Xanadu perches high above, out of reach, far away
Dirt clods and weeds, parched crops crying for water
Sweat stings tired eyes, muscles ache and stomach growls
Bland fodder, noise, dirt, and grey unpainted harshness
Hard, hot, stale, sameness, torture a worn down soul
There on the crest, high above the flat brown plain
Glittering in the sun like a diamond behind thick glass
Strange delicious meals, sweet music, and beauty
Green, clean, beautiful, cool, fresh, and comfortable
Xanadu | |
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| Free Verse Poetry Festival -everybody welcome/A POET IS BORN
Posted: 6/10/2007 7:30:47 PM | A poet is born
Words are only words,
when used without the heart,
or without feelings,
Once they have intertwined with the heart,
A poet is born.
and words become poetry.
Words without meaning,
are just letters of the alphabet
jumbled together,
Words without feeling.
Are nothing.
The voice of those who can't speak,
can only be heard,
if someone writes their feelings.
Words can break all silence.
and with the heart,
words become lyrics for the music,
of love.
Words are only words,
when used without the heart,
or without feelings,
Once they have intertwined with the heart,
A poet is born.
and words become poetry. | |
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| reposting topics for new page/Welcome to the real world/Imaginary life
Posted: 6/10/2007 7:32:52 PM | Welcome to the real world
Welcome to the real world
Welcome to the real world,
a world of uncertainity,
Where dreams are made,
and sometime fade,
But there are no fairy tale here,
Just reality,
And sometime a tear,
Where you try and fail,
Sometime you walk through hell,
In flames that were ignited by love,
Sometime you find it's not enough,
To wish on the stars above,
Feel the rain ,
But know it will clear,
Welcome to the real world,
It' about time you are here.
It seems you lived in dreams,
of fanasy and flight,
Sometime you would go solo ,
in the dark night,
until you found out too late,
love is in the hands of fate,
I look into the mirror and I see you cry girl,
Welcome to the real world.
There is no sense in pretending,
There is no prince or happy ending,
But you have to take what life will hurl,
Welcome to the real world.
Welcome to reality,
Where tears may fall and fate may cheat,
Sometime love and hate are on the same street,
You and heartache fianally meet,
Wishing on stars don't always come true,
But it's ok you will make it through,
I look in the mirror and I see you girl,
Welcome to the real world.
,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,
Imaginary Life
She would swim with the dolphins ,
In the sea,
In her dreams there is nothing she can't do or be,
She only wants to escape reality,
And for awhile she soars free,
Imaginary life,
sometime helps her escape,
The real world that surrounds her.
With her unknown fate,
She would soar the sky,
a butterfly,
A fairy tale princess,
who is saved,
By a knight in shining armor,
Making a cold lonely night seem warmer.
Than the morning comes,
and her dreams fade.
Reality awakens her in the sunrise,
Stealing her away from her imaginary life.
When she was a child,
Fairy tales had a happy ending,
And for awhile,
It was fun pretending,
But she learns to well,
Life is no fairy tale,
Sometime a princss never becomes a queen.
Only if she closes her eyes,
She can live her dream,
in a imaginary life,
Taking her away from reality,
She would swim with the dolphins in the sea.
And for awhile she soars free. | |
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| reposting topics for new page/The poet and the Busker
Posted: 6/10/2007 7:33:36 PM | The poet and the Busker.
The busker providing a musical or entertaining ambience ...
Her words...enterwined into his heart..
Across a ocean ,
carried as if by wave or wind,
To a unknown friend,
His music gave voice to her feelings,
Her song became his.
Perhaps they were always meant to be connected,
Maybe it was fate.
Passing stars that came close enough to sparkle
in the other's light,
Time and distance were of no consquence.
The connection was of the heart and mind.
The music played softly and seem to gently travel
through time and space.
across the starry skies ,
and ocean of blue,
until his music found her heart,
playing softly in the lonely night,
as she danced under the moonlight,
He rose to the sunrise,
He had dreamed that he had touched the rose.
For a brief moment they had found
a way to reach past mere human existence,
to find a connection of hearts and souls.
The poet and the Busker. | |
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| reposting topics for new page/Someone I used to know
Posted: 6/10/2007 8:27:25 PM | You remind me of someone I used to know,
I left behind me,
so many years ago,
Those blue eyes seemed to hypomitise,
But those blue eyes,
held sweet lies..
But I must admit,
that I miss his kiss,
and looking into those blue eyes.
His blonde hair fell out of place,
I always loved the look in his face,
When he kissed my lips,
so many years ago,
You remind me
of someone I used to know.
Sometime love never dies,
a teenage heart still cries,
For love's sweet lies.
and those blue eyes,
For the lover that walked out in the cold.
I never got his ring of gold,
But I loved him swith all my heart and my soul.
For love that was let go,
You remind me of someone I used to know. | |
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| A NEW WORLD ORDER FOR GINSBERG’S AMERICA
Posted: 6/10/2007 9:12:33 PM | As the world ….
Becomes
a pool of suspended corpses
We walk down waning streets
Deluged with the hands of mental patients and drug addicts
They’re all singing of High rise Massacres …
They sing of bloody massacres while
The Spring rains
Pour inside your skull getting our thoughts soaked through
As that day in the park when the rain wouldn’t stop
As all our memories are painted black
Accompanied by disfigured modern poetry –
And of Mozart’s Requiems’ suicidal violins
Hundreds of thousands of people
Commit suicide in your brain
As you became filled with a suicide’s seething obsessions
My girlfriend is pregnant with
Swarming maggot-worms slithering through
The human race floating across the earth in a pool of dead corpses...
I paint black canvasses over and over... in death terror
It reminds me of how I LOVE YOU
I love you so much
Our bodies rotting alongside of each other
I love you so much
That I paint rusting steel mills all over you
I ran naked through the New York City subway system –
That’s how much I love you -
As we walk through the minefield of screaming white faces
On one side millions of faces screaming
Other side
All screaming with us
As smoldering-shaking-volcanoes in their mouths and faces.
As you and I and the baby in your stomach walk through this minefield - and they will all slam a thousand doors
As our hatred turns our sons into killers of peoples
Our daughter will run through insane asylums
Until she is found hanging by her neck one beautiful sunny morning
New York City rushes indifferently around her
You and I will breed on a mountain of corpses
This is how much I love you
I have a gun in my jacket ready for nationalist supremacists
We smilingly laugh down the darkened streets together –
Love might be
Something to kill for –
As the rusting steel factories empty of workers
Never to return the scowling frustrations
Burn seething on the south side of Chicago or Los Angeles
as workers
Kill each other
We lovingly embrace to the music of
Gunshots
The cries of the dying join our joyous cacophony of lovemaking
The six billion screaming
As
Hutu kills Tutsi
As Croat kills Muslim who kills Serb who kills Croat
As America kills Muslims
As Muslims kill each other
At least were able to pay off the mortgage
And arrange for own funeral plots next to each other
As the dividing line waves of funeral plots down both sides of the streets –
You can be a social worker presiding over waves of homeless humanity – alcoholic and violent
All parading slowly rotting from within
And I
Can be a fireman fighting a hundred daily arsons
We scream mutely in our
Clashing nightmares together
Wake up for another day of living
So After we die we can rot together side-by-side -
Will you marry me? –
I want someone to hold when all the piercing air raid sirens come –
I want to hold someone as the North Pole melts and polar bears become extinct
I want someone to hold someone when the mushroom cloud blankets us with death whiteness . . . | |
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| A NEW WORLD ORDER FOR GINSBERG’S AMERICA
Posted: 6/11/2007 3:03:16 AM | | blimey how have i missed this thread?....what amazing lines and words....from the sublime beautiful to the fetid black amazing...at the moment I have no words...but I'll be back! | |
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| Oh, My Soul
Posted: 6/11/2007 8:41:29 AM | Oh, my soul she wanders in misty places
Shadows of desperation seek to consume her
Waves of distress pulse within her.
Uncertainty is her factuality
More than a decade has weathered her
And she stood alone.
The comfort of being cradled,
Cupped in the warmth of sensitivity,
dances in circles around her
But she is fearful and timid
Oh, my soul she longs to reach out.
She dances naked among the stars
in the pre-dawn hour.
Careless and free she swings on the constellations
Until daylight clothes her in inhibition
and again she is subdued.
Oh, my soul she longs to be free.
She is a casualty of little self worth
And she dares not sip from the cup of esteem.
Only tasting the essances of spilt droplets on her fingertips.
She cannot bring herself to dine at the table of confidence.
Oh, my soul she longs to be... | |
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| Oh, My Soul
Posted: 6/11/2007 3:30:29 PM | Thank you everyone for compliments, I often wonder how those Artists from the past would look upon the world we have created. Ginsberg wrote in reponse to an unnessacary war what whould he have thought of this one, or the response of those special poets if they viewed the events of 9/11 and the New Crusade we find ourselves on but we are not here for political commentary or ....as Joyce, :It is the nature of the poet to be an observer of life not a particapant", I wonder.....
Turn your head away, my love
I, waiting in anticipation for that final sweet moment
of seconds that drag snapping to the end
spiraling down on a swirling floor
Though, I smile in acceptance of a long friendly hug In springtime sprinkle mist I leave you to my waiting
I am there
Silent in the shadows, in a place where my hope breathes eternal but there forever, Waiting for that……………… moment to hold your hand kiss your lips
hold you close Feel your sleeping head on my shoulder
Waiting in breathless anticipation
awake at night staring into the dark empty screen
drowning in someone else’s visions carved by words and gestures
Where I first saw love
Just hold me close one time,
look deep into my eyes,
as I brush that stray hair behind your ear,
to touch your cheek, wipe away a tear,
let me simply……… hold your hand
Waiting in anticipation as an ironic chuckle escaped my lips like yesterday’s whisper as past guilt’s ate away at another coward’s reaches toward failure
For me, perhaps…. all my songs are ended, and…. the man that sang them is a name…. And so is God
A name; so it is with love, and life, and everything,
And everything…….. But We….we are too blind
To read what we have written, or have faith in what faith is
We only blink, and wonder.
Last night… it was my song that was the man,
But now. We do not hear my true voice very much to-day:
My piercing and eternal cadence rings
Too pure for you and I……. too powerfully pure,
Too lovingly triumphant, and too large;
But there are some that hear, and… they know
So, shall I sing to-morrow And that all time shall you listen.
My songs are ended are they truly? Rather say
No songs are ended that are ever sung,
And that no names are dead names.
When we write
Man's letters on proud marble, paper or sand,
We write them there forever.
And another velvet night of my illusions
resolving dying in that slow procession in my mind
through a minefield of hope burning bright a pain of sighs
just a breath away
I whisper to your shadow "I love you" as darkness falls...
PS ( I know for some of you this is a repost but some big beard in the sky keeps erasing me so for now I have rebuild thoughts and protect my work from mindless censors, oops is that a violation of the rules? I just don't know) | |
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| Welcome All Poets and lovers of poetry
Posted: 6/11/2007 4:20:36 PM | Xxttian- A NEW WORLD ORDER FOR GINSBERG’S AMERICA is dark, twisted& disturbing - so glad you are here! Don't worry about reposting here. Sometimes if I see a great poem, I'll ask people to repost it here.
speakingof which RAVINCAUSE-would you repost "The Grandmothers Told Us"from
wootoodsday's thread? You are so amazing!
So much diversity of talent and content here,how shall I do justice to all of you?
Brizo-"TheSea"-yes, the salty mother of us all. Thank You.Would loveto jump some waves now.
Its over 100 degrees here today  hot and miserable.
SweetSugarSugar--thankyou for Oh my soul...caught me from the first 2 lines.
Welcome to judyarlinepuckett -a poet is born and I'm so glad, welcome to the real world or at least to my thread
Welcome also Scoot2- the next to the last stanza caught me -identify with it. Central Alabama is in a drought, you describethe earth under strain with beauty.
I salute you all with the "goldfish of glory"
 I hope his bowl is cool today! | |
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| Free Verse Poetry Festival
Posted: 6/11/2007 5:23:15 PM | For the heavens and sky
Are just too small
For this much joy!
My heart is racing,
My blood rushes like white water
But warm, so warm
Like your hands on my skin.
Your kiss among this field
Of yellow flowers
Melts in my mouth
Like a lemon drop.
I would hire a plane to sky-write
My joy but
He would run out of sky.
(repost from First line,last line) | |
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