Hi Ku Cat

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Helen Frankenthaler

...her open canvas—
paint seems to be the object

.............how her poems do
 
I don't remember what I wanted art to be.

........Just like your writing?
 
In the Garden

Yesterday, back against the sun,
twelve foot shadow a monk across the row,
bowing and praying to the god behind.
 
Six · Five

This fragility
.....looks like a paper model
..........of how we now age—

as beautiful constructions,
..........though ones quickly pierced and shred.
 
gold on your hand
silver at your throat, my love
bent to the grinder while I
churn away
 
we played patty cakes until one got tired,
set offered paws on pavement patiently,
over a very determined length of time,
something captured ear or eye,
and the game is over;
she walks away, looks back.
Catfriend ups ass and follows.
 
Last edited:
we played patty cakes until one got tired,
set offered feet on pavement patiently,
over a very determined length of time,
something captured ear or eye,
and the game is over;
she walks away, looks back.
Catfriend ups ass and follows.
:rose::kiss:

i can see this as if i were there

won't be too long now and you'll have poopies to write about :D
 
:rose::kiss:

i can see this as if i were there

won't be too long now and you'll have poopies to write about :D
..
was funny.
..
Leave them their fantasies,
me mine; say radio is magic,
water can indeed be wine.

The wind has stopped laughing with trees;
they trade hushed secrets about the coming year,
anticipation.
 
Cold brings on those pre-birth shivers,
gravid bitch will search a den,
somewhere down the hill,
In
a
place
well
sheltered
from the effects , warm, dry, secure.
 
Waiting on the Christmas Puppies

Two weeks more or less,
or and day now, moving slow,
but steady, udders like unto a cow,
bow legged to give them room to sway,
carry's her biscuit away to the logjam,
breakfast al fresco instead of a nice warm nest in the hay?
 
Holistic Poetry

Here is my anaethesia, my super Tylenol,
Heroin, relief from the pain,
incurred while mucking about the furnace room
in naught but canvas shoes. An ill placed slab of oak
tumbled back upon my toe. The pain's all but gone now;
thank you for the fix.
 
Pseudonym

...I want to lie down
next to you, Frances, fully
..........clothed, on our shared bed.


.
 
After Viewing an Excellent Performance of
Shakespeare's All's Well That Ends Well


.........Classic theater,

even when played on bare stage
...evokes emotion.

Skilled actors coax up feelings—
.......their lures, like casting for trout.

.
 
Ritual

.....My father, dying,
..asked that my mother hold him,
.............which she did.



.......................I'm blessed.
 
Tanka for Cynthia
Remembering Valentine's Day, 1972

That perfect body—
..........(she was twenty) was not all

...I wanted. We talked
..........about my disappointments
......in life. Her comforting arms.


.




I did write poems to her, love poems, bad e.e.cummings influenced ones.
She broke my heart, but other women glued it back together again.
 
sun shines
but still my mind
is veiled in fog

the buzz a constant chorus in my ears
a band of pressure grips across my skull
book's left unread

strange day
torn dreams flap
anchored to my psyche

a pig with a limp
a spud-laden cart
i won't force it on

its black bristles shine
cobbled street slick with rain
an accident waiting to happen

dismount
unhitch
we'll walk back together
the pig and i
as the rain sluices mud
from brightening potato skins
 
sun shines
but still my mind
is veiled in fog

the buzz a constant chorus in my ears
a band of pressure grips across my skull
book's left unread

strange day
torn dreams flap
anchored to my psyche

a pig with a limp
a spud-laden cart
i won't force it on

its black bristles shine
cobbled street slick with rain
an accident waiting to happen

dismount
unhitch
we'll walk back together
the pig and i
as the rain sluices mud
from brightening potato skins
..
Down the stairs, fire up, out the door,
dogs come a running, hold-out's here,
greetings and hand holdings,
stick fights.

March to the high pasture gate,
pass through and push to the fence line;
old cedars, shady sun caves.
 
word-choice will make these poems what they are, but because they get called a haiku (my pet peeve) and adhere to the americanised '5/7/5&chuck in a cherry blossom reference' they get seen as something of worth.
"haiku"

....pear blossoms, this time,

that fall onto the old pond
............where damn! frog plops in.



with affection, for butters
 
word-choice will make these poems what they are, but because they get called a haiku (my pet peeve) and adhere to the americanised '5/7/5&chuck in a cherry blossom reference' they get seen as something of worth.
The word "americanised," which is, of course, how you would spell it, made me laugh, being as it is somehow right, but wrong, and wrong in a funny way. :)




How do you like Tennessee? I think that's where you two are. Bit different from London, eh?
 
The word "americanised," which is, of course, how you would spell it, made me laugh, being as it is somehow right, but wrong, and wrong in a funny way. :)




How do you like Tennessee? I think that's where you two are. Bit different from London, eh?
it does look a whole lotta letters :D


the countryside is beautiful, i am surrounded by hills and lakes and trees and pastures which i get to share with H. there are plenty of good people (we'll not get into the religious aspects that colour some of their lives and, indeed, some of their politics) i have met and worked with, and it's not all flags, trump, and racism i'm delighted to add. especially with the younger people - and there are plenty of smart people, too, not all yer damned rednecks. the summers are too humid but there's air con for that, and i can cook some pretty awesome biscuits :D yes, very different form london, but all good.
 
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