The #Poet's Familiar Muse - #MondayBlogs

Familiar

you
this creature with my face and eyes
small and fleet running rampant on my soul

what quest brings you here again
to chase and devour my joy
ever laughing as you go, flinging scorn and distain?

to me
troubler of spirits
rest here on my lap and tell me what fuels your frensy

how goes 
your recent troubled flight?
weep with me as we wait together for the rain

for waters fall 
might bring us sprites in drops of sweet dew.
let us tarry here
my familiar

While Reading #Poetry on a Rainy Sunday - #MondayBlogs

 

Words dance and weave
Emotions
Into singular assaults 
Passions 
With a clash of images 
And colorful sensations
Each 
Kindly interrupted by its 
Crisscrossing cousin 
Uninvited visits
Roughly terminated 
Twisting
All to be known faintly
In murky melancholy 
And egregious imagining

Your Beauty #Poem

Your beauty
Laid out before me

Orange hues wrapped in purple haze
This sky
Brushed upon a palette
By the descending of the sun
Layers
Broadcasting the coming night
Filled with hope and promise

Your beauty is laid out for me

A beauty that seeks me
Reaches out and touches my eyes
Causing them to scan for you

A beauty that grazes my thoughts
Hunting for understanding
Beyond knowing the work of light 
Reflecting through prisms
And chemicals reacting in mist
Longing to be known

Your beauty
Laid out before me ready to be known

As in an embrace lovers know
The caress of wonder 
Possibilities of tomorrow
In each gentle sigh
Each brazen kiss

Your beauty
Laid out before me stops 

Longing is left alone
Desire
Calm and undisturbed
Even as your wonder
Strikes the lenses of my sight
Pounding
Nothing but a distant echo

Is heard

Tonight…

A.M. Shining #Poetry #MondayBlogs

A.M.

Morning's sun lifts its sphere
Casting tendrils 
Radiate into the a new day
Frozen time, that eternity of a moment
When they reach us
Offering a solitary caress

Winter Frosting

The memories of us
Like layers of snow on lamp posts
Chill the tomorrows
With feather-light
Burdens and glittering 
Prisms to blind this weary traveler
Passing by

Goodbye

 

Oh Senility Me #MondayBlogs #Poetry

Gnarled fingers hold
Gently
The dog-eared photos of youth
Shingled eyes search repeatedly
Among shades of white and ash
Wavering hope yields
Regret for memories lost, trampled
Underneath
Rote recollections
Snapped
This snap shot is…this…me?

 

Our Holidays #Family

The drive that lasted for 4 hours and the wait that was longer
The deep, abandoned, rolling to tears laughter of children
The wraith like memories of ripping wrapping paper
The twinkling lights and flashing fancies from yuletide strands
The raising of the tree
The ritual prayer of our token cleric
The feast marked by odd dishes and common routines
The retelling of stories, forty days and forty nights worth of heritage
The settling into familiar seats and sighs
The late comers and early deportees
The insertion of Tab A into Slot B
The luxurious and the sorted
The games and the game with both having scores and winners
The holidays

 

The #Poetry in Us

I feel the poetry that is within
This
Moment of our
Entwining
The manner in which
We
Fold upon each other
Petals 
Retreating into
Nightly
Comforts, securities held
As 
Shields against the other
Side
While outside beasts and pacing
Devourers 
Of words and dogma shout
Misguided
Voices that speak harshly
In
Proper punctuation and orderly belief
Transgressing
Breaking the stems of poppies
While posturing
Pompously
Crushing the delicacy of
Us
Thus releasing the cries
Of our beautiful
Poesy

 

(this piece was inspired by some raw poetry over at The Naked Light. Thank you Nevine!)

 

 

The Waning of Me #Aging #Poetry

 

Green - stop

Red - go

We know that’s wrong

From learning

Thinking, believing

We have vast signs

Signals to stop us

To 

Yield to others

Blinking permission 

To

Move forward in our assigned time

And way

So

Why am I stuck

Frozen

Brakes locked

In trepidation 

Of the moving forward of me?

If we can arrange the world’s traffic 

Paths

Our road

Ways

So simply with blinking lights and orange

Barrels 

Signaling our assigned courses

Why has no one provided 

Neatly aligned cones

 For knowing

The growing

Older, old, 

The waning

Of 

Me?

 

 

Hear it read - here:

Intimate Facade #OurNecessaryDistractions

.

Distract me

Please

Forgo the ego

Forbid self-consciousness

Do not ask me to be aware of 

Myself or you or the meaning of our actions

Distract me

Let me be lost in the intensity

Of this moment

Fraught with games

Fierce technologies

Let me flounder in shallow

Humor

Crass comments

And crude divisions

Distract me

Please

Flaunt superficial contact

Fuel the facades

The projections of me

I want to be lost

For now

Adore

The me

I want you to see

 

Just A Reminder #poetry Is Required

yes

for the scars that remain after the battered soul heals

for the ongoing hemorrhage of injurious hope

for the fears arising from tortures too ghastly to be mentioned

for the pit of despair where rests stagnant laughter, mired in decay...

for these pieces of the poet's being... there must be poetry

for in the words of the verse, hammered out on life's iron keys

i often find relief and sometimes

in moments of purest grace

are discovered

wonderful questions.

 

(the poet knows this. true?) 

 

Digital Intimacy - #Poem

 

We have

Essential

Moments of mandatory misery

Grasping, tugging emotions

Un-liked, ignored emoticons 

The puffed-green faces of ourselves

Dot

The landscape and portraits of

Screens

Screaming at, about, into

The refined, together

Socially happy selves

That we would be, should be

If we abide broadcasted expectations

Joyful, complete, happy, helpful

Free…

We are not

Not always

These naught moments

Remind us

With beautiful

Misery

 

Hear it read here...

On Every Street - A Halloween #Poem #Blog

Pumpkins are orange

   Always snarling

Ghosts wear striped sheets

   Cut-out eyes, shuffling feet

Witches with green faces

   Dotting our neighborhood places

Yard tombstones teeter

   Launching creatures

Glow sticks and flashlights

   Dance in the streets

Doorbells ringing

   And parental ghouls singing

Trick or Treat!

(Note: In the first line, have we solved the eternal poetic question: what rhymes with orange?) 

Red House Talking - A Visit To Levering Orchard

Red House Talking*

 

standing

heat scared twisted tin

metal remains of the shelter of generations

once marking the boundary between security,  sky

and seasons' harsh torments of ice and wind

once shielding mother and child and keeping

home hearth’s warmth within

now

sentinel timbers stand charred

remnants of hard taught lessons

essential knowing of words and deed

those shadows of learning that walk with us stand undaunted

proclaiming our way through life's course

holding us to right of way

pane-less windows black and lost

tell of now absent eyes peering outward

watching for familiar faces and tracing memories

in winter’s vapor smudged glass and speaking again

of curtains drawn tightly muffling 

the magic giggles of life long love and randy youth

 

now

the boundaries of roof and wall

yield openly, freeing lives long bound here 

as prolific gaps grasp not even nature's transient breeze

but only to have it dance delightfully

through

resting on mind, heart and dream

then leave wafting on

free.

 

(written following a visit to Levering Orchard, Va.

 

Momentary Misery

The roses bear

Thorns along stout

Stems proudly held

In bloody fists

And the beauty

Of

Each petal’s

Velvet undulation

Adorned with dew

Droplets

Tracing precariously

Along the edges

Of

Endings

Inspires poets

To define and grasp

Their momentary

Misery

A rose

Arose

But not

Without thorns

For any of us…


Vacancy

Because you so often stand

Empty

While Others fill themselves

Full

With positions, possessions without  

Purpose

And you remain empty still

Waiting

For more

I love you. 

Socially Connected Life of #Bloggers

words on my screen

tokens of life well lived

speaking of actions

attitudes

options

for living

 

words of your journey

signs

revealing and peeling

back me to me to thrive

live

choose

growing

 

words launched into timeless space

afloat in e-land

wandering

seeking you until

they

come home and sink deep

settling

inward discord

recording new

words of you

my friend

Divine Flirtations

There is always much more.

In each combination
a savoring nuance blended from that moment's ingredients 
Do you hear that...  that unknown laugh?
It makes me smile.
Who is that?
Even in the mundane, methodical rhythm of talking
we stumble
on the euphoria
of an additional smile
an amalgamation of chemical strokes and spiritual caresses
as if we should have been here all along. 
There seems to be more, always.
More to know, feel, grasp, share...

God is such a flirt.