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 Perfectly me
Joined: 12/10/2006
Msg: 351
snapshots: 01Oct08Page 15 of 52    (12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39, 40, 41, 42, 43, 44, 45, 46, 47, 48, 49, 50, 51, 52)
You're welcome gentle alyosha, and now back to our regular programing.

the golden haired princess
came skipping up the trail
her adoring court trailing her
in the footsteps of giants
sparkling-blue-powered eyes
in her child's fair face
secure in the regal nature
of her rightful place
she posed artfully against a boulder
to give her parental fans a chance
to capture her beauty one more time
as they dutifully did murmuring
their love for her, their family's
generations confirmed, golden
She led them into the forest again
for the next photo opportunity
Joined: 2/19/2006
Msg: 352
view profile
snapshots: 01Oct08
Posted: 10/5/2008 10:39:11 AM
joy ride

let the carnival begin
riding the ferris wheel
my spirit soars
a run away balloon
detached observance
of my town
too soon

Ls 8/28/08
Joined: 10/29/2007
Msg: 353
snapshots: 01Oct08
Posted: 10/5/2008 1:30:43 PM
PerfectlyYou: Thanks again for your visit and your poem and you, Brizo, I always hope that you're looking in on my threads as I do in yours, and when you leave a bit of your tracks, so much the better... In this case, the last lines of your poem are something of a coincidence as I've begun on one with these opening lines:

The air goes slowly out of my balloon.
There was so much of it to begin with...
Joined: 9/22/2008
Msg: 354
view profile
snapshots: 01Oct08
Posted: 10/5/2008 7:50:42 PM
I really didn't think
when I saw you again
that I would see my pain
reflected in your eyes
it seared me through
like a red hot poker
the heat did not cauterise
the bleeding from within
the screams came again
Joined: 10/29/2007
Msg: 355
snapshots: 01Oct08
Posted: 10/6/2008 4:56:17 PM
oh my, the two of you - Pickles & Silver - in much the same mood and turning it into two fine poems!
Joined: 9/22/2008
Msg: 356
view profile
snapshots: 01Oct08
Posted: 10/6/2008 6:56:32 PM
He died in the room next door
no great fanfare
just a flat line and a final
gasp for air

I heard he was a good man
not famous or rich just..
salt of the earth,
would give you the shirt
from his back,
last nickel,
never turned down a request for help
always ready willing and able
to the best of.....

He died in the room next door
no fanfare at all
just alone.

I had an asthma attack and while I was in emerg they called a code ....the nurses told me about him.
Joined: 7/28/2008
Msg: 357
snapshots: 01Oct08
Posted: 10/6/2008 10:50:45 PM
My eyes were down
Momentarily they wised up
I touched your final moment
Stronger, love never fails.
men creatures, women creatures
Love is fantastic eye-opening,
shuts down dialogue, open
sky.. clearing clouds
fatigued minds, slogging hearts
This year, this day
My eyes wised up.
Joined: 10/29/2007
Msg: 358
I Wish Aunt Emily were back at Home
Posted: 10/7/2008 4:56:42 AM
First of all, 60t0 70, thank you for the poem in memory of your grandfather. As to your question " Does not the death of a sibling affect men? A question":

My younger brother, Ted, died at age 37, twenty-seven years ago, which is to say yesterday! Around that time I had been writing poems for children but was concerned that they were becoming somewhat glib, so I vowed that the next one I wrote would have to come from some darker or more difficult place and out popped this:

I Wish Aunt Emily Were Back at Home

I wish Aunt Emily were back at home.
She went away about a month ago.
She said she'd phone.
She never did.

I guess that where she went
There aren't many phones.
I know she's not afraid
To be alone.

She's an adventurer.
She's very tall.
She's my favourite aunt.
I wish she'd call.

That's all.

The last line is one of the most truthful I think I have ever written, because the child-narrator is me, dealing with what he has heard from the adult world but suspecting that "Aunt Emily" is dead... and utterly helpless in the face of that!
Joined: 10/29/2007
Msg: 359
snapshots: 07Oct08
Posted: 10/7/2008 5:01:26 AM
At the poetry reading tonight
I felt a bit more of my life
slip out from under me!
It was all right.
I hadn’t been using it anyway.
Still, it was strange to see it go
Joined: 10/29/2007
Msg: 361
I Wish Aunt Emily were back at Home
Posted: 10/7/2008 9:29:07 AM

This is one of my favourites, Jer. Thanks for re-posting it.

It's a favourite of mine, too, both because it's a tribute to what I felt/feel about my brother and because it was one of those "gift" poems in that with the exception of my change from "there aren't ANY phones" to "there aren't MANY phones," it came out whole, wrote itself, so to speak.

The change, as I've probably explained to you is because the narrator is very likely dealing with what his parents felt it was okay to tell him and if they'd said "theren't ANY" phones where she is, he might have guessed that she is dead.
Joined: 9/22/2008
Msg: 362
view profile
online dating
Posted: 10/7/2008 6:30:09 PM
Online dating

We met over cups of steaming latte
the biscotti was a godsend
kept my hands busy so that the desire
to hold a cigarette was diminished...
(this after quitting years ago!)
Smiling, I met your eyes and hoped
that you would love my baby blues
and that I had no food in my pearly whites
that I would APPEAL to you.
We kept the conversation light
the usual why's and what's and
how long have's
I think I moved the sugar dispenser
about a total of four miles
while his foot tapping
wore a hole in the lino
we agreed to meet again
we'd call each other about the when
and he left.....
I felt bereft
and would continue to
until the next time
 Perfectly me
Joined: 12/10/2006
Msg: 363
I Wish Aunt Emily were back at Home
Posted: 10/7/2008 9:17:59 PM
Oh my dear, what a terrible tragedy, a hole in your life that is unbelievable yet must be believed. I'm so sorry my gentle friend that you've lost him, I know what you mean about yesterday. I lost my wonderful birth father when he was only 66, my great step-father 4 years ago. Neither one can ever be replaced, a light went out of my life with both of them.

He came to me in a dream
and I rushed into his arms
daddy I thought you were dead
he said, "No sister I'm just fine."
with a tender look in his eye
he stood so straight and tall
right then, my dazzled eyes
only saw my handsome father
looking young and healthy again
I had to believe it was him
part of me knew he was gone
but mostly, I needed him back
that's the last time I saw dad,
and I know he's out there somewhere
but damn it somewhere's too far
Joined: 10/29/2007
Msg: 364
I Wish Aunt Emily were back at Home
Posted: 10/8/2008 6:24:55 AM
Dear Pickles and Perfectlyme, thank you both so much for these poems!
Joined: 10/29/2007
Msg: 365
snapshots: 08Oct08
Posted: 10/8/2008 6:25:34 AM
At the table in front of me,
in loose camouflage pants,
matching baseball cap,
sneakers and a long
battle-ship grey, cable-knit sweater,
folded over at the sleeves
a guy smokes a Turkish cigarette.
Beside him, a shopping cart
filled with refundable
soda-pop cans
Joined: 7/28/2008
Msg: 366
snapshots: 08Oct08
Posted: 10/8/2008 9:57:13 PM
Friend F. says puzzled
"Why the bottles?Why the cans?"
settles into silence.
Friend F. has assets..
His light encounter..
Has not.

I did not lose a grandfather. I lost a very nice sister 14 years ago. Yesterday for sure.
Joined: 10/29/2007
Msg: 367
snapshots: 09Oct08
Posted: 10/9/2008 6:31:25 AM
Karim reports
that he showed the snapshot I wrote about him
to his daughter, Amelia, 20.
"Daddy," she exclaimed,
"You’re a good man!"
Joined: 7/28/2008
Msg: 368
snapshots: 09Oct08
Posted: 10/10/2008 11:16:33 PM
Never knew
Silently, no moon..
Silence overwhelms
my senses, my defenses
willow trees, waving, downward
it is a summer night, light is near
I breathe like the wind
I am the waving
my hand records
this silent moment to this present moment
Your heart snapped, zapped alive.
Joined: 10/29/2007
Msg: 369
snapshots: 11Oct08
Posted: 10/11/2008 6:13:02 AM
Many thanks, 60to 70!

I look up, surprised
to see my old friend, Gerry T.,
approaching. Pouch-faced with age
but with a smile
as expectant as ever,
he’s visiting from Ireland,
came by expecting to find me here
at my usual hour and we launch immediately
into a 50-year old conversation
as fragrant as freshly-risen bread
Joined: 10/29/2007
Msg: 370
snapshots: 13Oct08
Posted: 10/13/2008 8:00:19 AM
This morning a festival
of warmth. First Robert
(Ro-bear), the dishwasher,
comes by and bestows on me
a smile that is more gum
than teeth, then coming up the alley,
Geeta-of-my-heart waves,
in her other hand
her son, Divender,
just turned five
Joined: 7/28/2008
Msg: 371
snapshots: 13Oct08
Posted: 10/13/2008 9:45:19 PM
Such committed strength of living in these two poems. I really could only stand back and admire both. Two really fine and good testaments to the art of living. If I had a favourite (the 1st one) yet the second poem was so fine. Rock on.
Joined: 10/29/2007
Msg: 372
snapshots: 13Oct08
Posted: 10/14/2008 3:27:42 AM

Such committed strength of living in these two poems...

What a beautiful way of putting it, dear 6Oto! I wouldn't have judged myself that way, but it's glorious that others do - or that at least one other does! Thank you!!
Joined: 10/29/2007
Msg: 373
snapshots: 14Oct08
Posted: 10/14/2008 1:50:48 PM
Today, as the sun falls away,
I get into easy, episodic conversation
with Hashem, a bird-like young man
from Pakistan, with flowing black hair
and a blanket thrown over
his slender shoulders,
and his companion, Katia,
robust, smiling,
like a healthy forest plant
Joined: 7/28/2008
Msg: 374
snapshots: 14Oct08
Posted: 10/15/2008 10:44:19 PM
The first poem was so poignant and right. The second ..."G...of my heart" (line) musical and so strong.

Around, inside, beside this roaring fire
Eons, ages, centuries pass within this mire
Fire paints our faces with shadows and light
Hearts shyly hidden,mouths hesitating
But I spoke, you spoke, we bent to the fire
Quiet communion pushed back many a night.
Joined: 10/29/2007
Msg: 375
snapshots: 14Oct08
Posted: 10/17/2008 4:46:00 AM

Around, inside, beside this roaring fire
Eons, ages, centuries pass within this mire
Fire paints our faces with shadows and light
Hearts shyly hidden,mouths hesitating
But I spoke, you spoke, we bent to the fire
Quiet communion pushed back many a night.

How beautiful! How quietly, tenderly beautiful! Both as a visual and as a sentiment.
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