Archival Review

is there 'now' a poetry spinner? (such as the story spinner?) or is this like the thread I had; called... 'Dusty Poems'? (~_~)

inspirational ...
 
My Erotic Trail said:
is there 'now' a poetry spinner? (such as the story spinner?) or is this like the thread I had; called... 'Dusty Poems'? (~_~)

inspirational ...

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Just goes to show what a newbie I am; I've always thought there was a poetry spinner.

It's something like your old 'Dusty Poems' thread, though I was thinking of another thread where readers were invited to use the spinner and then post their results. And the focus here are on the poems found in Lit's archives, preferably the older the better. The only thing I'm doing is to reprint a poem that appeals to me or that I think might appeal to other Lit folk. There are thousands of poems there I've never even read. So I'm approaching this like I would a book; open the front cover and start reading page by page; could take awhile.

And, of course, anyone is invited to join in on the fun and share any gems they might find.

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I remember, when living in the South, how tradition had certain foods fixed for the New Year's meal. Hearing all those menus described never stimulated my hunger. Perhaps if JUDO was in charge of meal preparation ~


A Meal Sharing
by JUDO ©

Chewing, chewing, chewing
A lonely night eschewing
Dew over tongue issuing
As I think, "What next worth doing?"

A petal comes next I settle
And nip its length to pedal
Her heart to me, so I meddle.
With a body quite worth it's mettle.

A bite, a lick, cut to her quick
She moans and tells me a trick.
"Add another to where I'm slick."
And my fingers begin to flick.

A fine meal's great appeal
Starts as juices congeal.
Your sense it does steal.
This is like that deal.

But no stable at the table
No fish or fruit are able
To compete with this fable…
This dish without label.

Smiles she down at me
As I lay by her knee.
I wish she could see
What my mind does agree

Is the penultimate best-
Head back, heaving chest
Wet, longing address
Where my mouth can rest.

"Sated?" A quiet nod.
I crawl upon her bod.
Our breasts do meet. A quad
Of teats complete, not odd.

Not curt, her kiss quite pert
My back the skies avert
As lay I must invert.
Her turn to dine, not hurt.

With a swish, coquettish,
Down she moves. And I wish
As her tongue fits my niche
And eats so fine a dish.



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"Ghost of Marriage Past"
by Wanton Vixxxen ©

“Ghost of Marriage Past”



Spring cleaning early
I come across
a cobwebbed album
shuttered frames of
happiness, hopes
dreams in the making
Aged innocence captured
on Kodak paper
4x6 glossies reflecting
oft used emotions
Life’s positives
from negatives
flashbulb yesteryears
cuddling,
coddling,
caressing
hearts’ confessions
whispered in
a shared bed
of shared tomorrows

Some tomorrows never come.

Vintage pages of
jaundiced subjects;
burnt umber edges
arching back with
dormant stiffness;
hunching over
in arthritic spasms;
misaligned tabbed corners
their culprits’ crippled blame.
Yet familiar faces still...
Blue eyes hemorrhaged red;
flash induced tapestry images
bleeding to opaqueness tint
myopic visions blurred
to anemic distress
Yet within the weak
and bleak collage
stand two straight and strong.


can’t quite make out these next...
it’s been so many years between...
no...wait...
sadly,
I recognize them now.

Faith’s accused of
jumped conclusions;
double exposures
to jealousy’s
mottled wrath
in
dark
darker
in darkest room
and gloom developed
and hung to dry in
dimming light of trust

restoring nothing
salvaging even less

Vividly transparent
these last few scenes...
forced unbroken smiles
and unforced bruising tears;
backgrounds clashing
in hushed shades
of an undeserved pallor
and pale concern

vaguely wanting
hardly needing

barely mourning love.

A door slams
and I blink;
my book of revelations
lying in my lap.
its dust, not I, undisturbed.

Clawed etchings
drawn in and
from my mind
reminding me
haunting me
hurling me
into a dead lifetime ago
exhuming regrets as
I resurrect still
this spousal apparition






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Alone
by xKristinex ©

Along the lighted countryside
A bantam town trying to hide
Sheathed from a world so full of lies
And pain and suffering, men who die
The village stood alone

Three boundless years, a war had raged
The sundry men who were engaged
The ceaseless fighting that was waged
The country spilt, the hatred laid
So many left alone

Inside the burgh, inside her room
She sat remote, in rueful gloom
Her loneliness she long presumed
Never daring to assume
Of life not lived alone

She’d waited long as time passed by
She’d waited for her tears to dry
She’d waited as dawn breached the sky
Two years she’d waited for a sign
Meant for her alone

And when the soft sun burnished through
The birds’ gay song caroled and grew
The world showed colors, every hue
And at that pressing point, she knew
Soon she’d not be alone

Her gait was brisk to the windowsill
Her breath took halt, her skin caught chill
When she glanced outside with thrill
Her disowned dreams had been fulfilled
She’d no longer be alone

There it sat in haunting grace
Garnished with a string of lace
It promised love’s honest embrace
Her rose had come, had found it’s place
It sat there, still, alone

Red, gentle petals grazed her hand
It smelled exquisite, it’s perfume grand
Perfection in each stalk, each strand
Remembering the secret plan
She was to go alone

As the night swept into town
She donned her cloak over her gown
Let her yellow hair fall down
It’s waves cascaded from her crown
She knew to go alone

The gentle night lay softly sound
Her feet so silent on the ground
She reached the trees, felt her heart pound
The tiny clearing before the mound
He was there, he stood alone

Coal-black strands ands hazel eyes
A heart as open as the skies
The memory came rushing by
Of when they’d woefully said good-bye
And he’d left to go alone

It had not been safe for him to stay
His blue had clashed with her drear gray
Lovers by night, firm foes by day
And then the war stole him away
And left her all alone

And yet he promised to return
And so he spoke with great concern
“Watch for the rose,” his voice was stern
Now reunited as they’d yearned
Both through with life alone

Into each other’s arms they raced
Each longing the other’s strong embrace
In his breast, she masked her face
His arms offering a hiding place
From that feeling of alone

The forest covered and let them hide
For in the morning they would ride
Off to the North, his place of pride
She’d be his love, his rebel bride
His and his alone

The sun shone through the morning leaves
It warmed the earth, the grass, the trees
They leapt upon his noble steed
Her loyal knight had set her free
They rode on, not alone

And yet the sun soon left at noon
The dark, foreboding clouds consumed
And from the sky, the raindrops bloomed
And in the distance, the thunder boomed
It crashed, the sound alone

They hadn’t heard men in their wake
They stopped to rest near a crystal lake
Did not realize the risk so great
The soldiers followed and set their fate
They caught them their alone

They didn’t have to wander near
They drew their rifles, the view was clear
And when she saw the gun in gear
Off in the distance, she screamed in fear
One shot rang out alone

And at that moment, time stood still
The soldiers rode beyond the hills
Her body shook as his blood spilled
Her heart pounding in rapid trills
One tear was formed alone

Wrapped in her arms, his voice was dry
He said “I love you, please don’t cry”
And with those final words, he died
Next to the lambent waterside
And soon she was alone

Her body raised as moist tears fell
She cried “Come back! Kill me as well!”
She felt the agony, her morbid hell
Under his death’s harrowing spell
A last raindrop fell alone

She knew not how long she lay there for
No words she spoke, no tears she bore
Soon darkness swept over the moor
She grabbed the rifle that he’d worn
She shot herself, alone

The haunting call of the nightingale
The moon’s soft light, so blanched, so pale
The breeze that swept upon the dale
The loaded gun that had availed
Secured their deaths, their souls took sail
When life, so delicate, had failed
Yet love would forever prevail
And end their tragic, morbid tale

Ending it…alone


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One thing that never ceases to amaze are the number of poems with no comment. It might be that on the older poems this option wasn't available until more recently. But that doesn't explain them all.

In any case, here's one from a poet some of you might be familiar with; sounds like someone's having a bad day with her laptop; a scream might be the more sensible approach to smashing the laptop against the far wall.


Analysis-Paralysis
by Lauren Hynde ©

behavioral matrix
on logic sand
fails to engage
transfinite mathematics
or extra-linear dynamics

grievence disallowed
petitions interdicted

...SCREAM

reductum ad absurdum​
 
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...in a Stormy way!
by My Erotic Tail ©

By the water's rippled edge,
"I Love You," I should have said.
I should have held you 'Oh' so close.
While the water beat the Dock's posts.

But my thoughts were chained by Pride,
I walked away and I know you cried.
The Water's swells raged from a storm,
Dark clouds circled and began to form.

I felt the rip go through my chest,
realizing my life was such a mess.
I turned to see your 'Smiling' face,
I felt my blood boil and race.

Pelting rain thus began
soaked up by the shoreline sand.
A wave goodbye from your hand,
Down your cheek the water ran.

Thunder cracked and lightening flashed,
I turned my head and away I dashed.
I should have said "Goodbye" that day,
I left you standing in a stormy way.


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arc of a love affair
by SA Storm ©

quick glances and daydreams
while pulse races
and the swirl of dizzy
perhaps we could have dinner?

tentative moments of touching
soft kisses
comfortable silence
I’m sorry do you need more space?
no I can’t get enough of you

constant contact
constant craving
holding hands
passion played moments
late long nights in bed
we talk of the most wonderful things
you hold all my secrets so well

I was busy, had to work late
why didn’t you call?
dinner out
you actually watch the whole movie together
not one stolen glance in 90 minutes
just almost comfortable silence
excuse me did you just belch?
sorry, can you close the bathroom door?

automatic pilot

you didn’t sleep in the car
so that’s you without make up
we never talk anymore
you never seem to want me
you’ve changed
we have to talk

sometimes fragile
often strong
bridges to forever
or nowhere at all
the smile of a lover
the pain in goodbye


old memories
sit with you
like the swirl of the dizzy
arc of a love affair



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Ancient echoes
by tungtied2u ©

Oak lined avenue approach
aged boughs arch cathedral like
revere times past
lives blessed with
wonderment and laughter

Weathered red bricks
two stories tall
beneath moss tinged slate
solid
shelter treasures beneath
from times inexorable erosion

Windows wink
a six panel smile bids you enter
the foyer
grandfather stands sentry
measuring moments
grandmother echoes its mate
from nearby mantle

Insinuating aromas serve notice
stir smiles
excite anticipation
another feast
ritually served
with graciousness and generosity

Scale cherry stairs
squeaking their alarm
Intruder Alert !
Whether friend or foe
don’t come home late

Retire to bed
rest in generations’ arms
those before you
knew all this too
heard the chimes from the ancient ones
marking off hours, weeks, years
memories

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Here's one to think about ~ is this a single guy awakening in a hotel room or some married for 30 years man awakening at home?



And still....she?
by HomerPindar ©

And still
to wrap my arms around her
I find the moment alone is not enough
for what is sleep if not to awake with her?
this, if only for a time
if only I knew
who is she?




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one of my all time favorite poems...

Dark Feel in Wormwood
by darkmaas ©

Pale green
Cloys sweet to mask
Wormwood bitter
Paris opalescent

***

I came upon old Oscar
Fat and droll and fey
In studied languor, posing
By dark eyed Salomé.

That dancing levantine
With her baptist on a tray
She brushed his lips, “Iokanaan,
Ta bouche, je l’ai baissé.”

Green fog enshrouded Oscar
Rose and sailed away
Leaving just the three of us
With little left to say.

We left John the baptist lolling
Bleeding on his silver tray
And once he was not looking
We caught the night train to Calais.

***

Left hand city
Bittersweet mask
Wormwood soul
Why must you ask?
 
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RhymeFairy found the thread that served as inspiration for this iteration. It was the original inspiration of Liar ~ ran from end of July 2005 to March 1 of this year.

It was a great idea too but had the same problem I considered my Wednesday listings had ~ just a link. I've been looking at my listings here and I'll add the links for the specific poem. Folks can then research the poet further (or not) as they choose.



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Here's a really old posting and it's an audio poem too!

Fixation
by RisiaSkye ©



You strip off everything
unnecessary to the task at hand
Hunching shoulders, bent down
concentrating on the consuming
treat before you.

Rolled tongue, wet and puppy pink
against the tan skin
sliding slowly up,
circling in langorous strokes
leaving soft dewy moisture in its path
Curling up and slipping in to the center,
teasing the edges, dipping to the core
to scoop a moment's tantalizing nectar
into your mouth to savor.

Everything moves fast now, a blur of frantic
quickening as the melting waves crash
and drip
as tongue no longer teases.
Lips cover teeth, your mouth a seal
which allows a pulsing tongue
to explore the hollows and
devour the sweetly dripping liquid.
Until it's finally emptied,
enjoyed, completed.

And when the empty shell joins others
in the mounds of discarded mess
I take you home and lick your fingers clean
relishing the long hot summer and
the lingering traces of
that sweet vanilla ice cream.


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Here's a fun one from a ways back from a name familiar to long-time members of Litland's House of Poetry.


Another Pickup Line
by Icingsugar ©

Um,
excuse me...
Hello,
hi!

Can I borrow
for a while...

What?
Well, you.

Yes, borrow you,
with that
glowing seraph smile.

With your
sparkle-dancer voice
and glacier eyes,
Antarctic green.

Can I borrow
for a while

your ears,

and tell you
what I've seen.

I've seen how...
precious in measures,
you bend space
around your presence,
you bend time
around your voice
and bend my will
around your essence.

Concrete budges,
steel bars snap,
all for you.

Within your sight,
city scapes and biospheres
lean closer,
savoring the light.

Care to change my world forever?
It's so easy, just a hack.

Let me borrow you a minute...

and forget
to give you back.



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Okay, so Lauren's doing the Survivor thingy. Be nice to butt heads with CBS on that one, especially since that series is getting so predictable ~ bunch of people get half naked, living in wretched conditions, are filthy, and on and on...

Oh, different Survivor thingy. Never mind...

So here's one of her early pieces:



7:30 PM
by Lauren Hynde ©

It was seven thirty.
You would not stay after eight
and after eight it would have become obvious.
There was order in the world,
and half an hour for us,
half an hour when we didn't really want each other,
half an hour during which we only hurt ourselves,
comfortable as we were not to have met before.

We spent half an hour arranging another hour for us,
half an hour that didn't start until it had ended,
when we said our good-byes, until next time.
And seeing you again
I didn't feel myself, nor my hunger, nor my thirst
nor any need other than you,
so I did like poets do,
erasing reality
to replace it with a better one.




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Maria2394 said:
I got this one on my seventh spin--

why do they hide
by, Senna Jawa

[...]
Thank you, Maria. Have you kissed Rybka recently? In the old days he used to spin Literotica poems wheel (until he got a good one), and half of the time he ended up with my poem. I wonder if it is infectious.

Too bad that Literotica archive messed up the format, introducing the double spacing between the lines. On the top of it, on our board it is hard to achieve a double or triple space between the words. This had adversely affected one of the lines in my poem above (while it is fine in the archive). It'd be better in such a case to break that line in two or to introduce a long dash. Let me reproduce this poem again below (with a long dash inserted, as a lesser evil).

Best regards,

Senna Jawa


***********************************************






why do they hide?




it's been a long winter
where are all the poets gone?
supposedly there is God
in every and each of us
is God dormant like a bear?
it's been a long winter
you hear only pro-s
they write well -- like this:

She was a real lady
She was no whore
I gave it to her good
She begged for more

why are all the poets dormant?
only pro-s are awake
they sing like this:

My sad blue eyes got a 1st class ticket
And are going away from my
Girl, on this silver jet
I fasten my seat belt and cry
I can't live without my girl
I have to get her back
But the silver jet takes
My sad blue eyes away from her





Wlodzimierz Holsztynski ©
1989-12-14/15




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12 O'Clock Muse
by Angeline ©

Lunch time muse. Watch
the day unfold languorous
clouds streaky wisped
on intense smoke of skies.

I half-close my eyes.
I listen to blues
played cool as the day,
thin-fingered in riffs,
exponentially timed ups
and downs, counted spaces
that fall between trees,
the first drifts of leaves
turning brown.

Drums brush a rhythm
like memory's night.
Your eyes change like autumn,
green-brown, gold-rimmed.
Your eyes shut like Sun going down.
In the breadth of a whisper
your eyes catch on dream,
between need and soothe.

Music plays, blues roll oceans
of season that fly past midday
or spread on the midnight of sighs
that begin and end in song.



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I hope it's okay if I spun an oldie but a goodie and add it to your collection. (4 spins)

controlled burn
by SeattleRain
© February 26, 2004

promise of a controlled burn
paper tight twisted,
trenches dug

with underbrush trimmed
you keep your cool.

splintered vines wind between
and the peel of birch bark reminds
us of our way as we hide
among the ghosts of the forest,
eating haiku sandwiches


I like lovers light brown crisp
caramelized on the end of a stick
inside liquid melts
knowing when to pull back
before sugar fires carbon
black, bitter, useless

and you like it raw
dipped in warm
or pulled to taffy
between fingers
onto tongue

always, always with the promise
of a controlled burn
 
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Hey there c_c, the more that play, the funner it gets. Just take a peek at this little gem I dug up.



A Dream of Ocean Wine - A Sonnet
by JUDO ©

A sonnet for all the surfing mermaids everywhere...


As the first taste of salty flesh flowed down,
I thought of my first glimpse of tender feast.
In hot sun, stretched 'neath nylon, center creased,
Pale wetness peeked between legs golden brown.

Two legs spread o'er long board that bobbed on waves
And smile above, an invite to a dream.
Her hair was blonde with breasts a golden cream.
The mouth said "Hi." The mind fulfilled my craves.

That night, we kissed and sank in naked lust --
Too quick my heart beat strong with new desire
As she made love to me, I stretched like wire
And broke apart on rocks that I could trust.

I slipped between those legs and drank the brine
That flowed between my lips like ageless wine.





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2 rivers, sound, and sea
by sandspike ©

We shared a life one year,
three amigos through:
2 rivers, sound and sea.
Jack Frost winds and Rod Steiger nights.

Each wave an obstacle
met head on or overtaken
Every gust shaken off
as I righted their world

I had a harmonic rhythm
a vibration along my deck
energizing their souls
electrical ballet of lust to come

She cradled my tiller
soft as a zephyr
feeling my power letting me run
He would ease then grind my sheets
exposing my belly

tenderness and intensity
we were virtual sex
a charge waiting a match
an undercurrent in ourselves

Sunset would find a cove
I was washed stem to stern
Below they would love one another
as I tacked at anchor
holding them through the night
__________________________________________


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I did not spin, to get this... but I thought most might enjoy this poem. It is one of my Favorites by a Lit Member that I think we all enjoy reading.

Small White Bones
by (Tristesse)

In the cold rain in the forest
there is no sanctuary.
The wet leaves hang heavy,
moss has a new green shawl
and, in a hollow tree, an owl sleeps
waiting for damp dark to catch
small, drenched creatures.

On ghostly wings he glides
disturbing only droplets in passing.
A startled squeak,
a scuffle, is all.
He will swallow rain-soaked fur
small white bones
and little, still heart.
The ruffled soil and bent blades
is all that tells the tale in stillness
and the gods answer with thunder.
 
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With mixed emotions, poem has been removed at poet's request pending its inclusion in a print anthology.


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My Erotic Trail said:
I did not spin, to get this... but I thought most might enjoy this poem. It is one of my Favorites by a Lit Member that I think we all enjoy reading.

Small White Bones
by (Tristesse)

[...]
This one indeed is good. Thank you, MET (and Trist :)).

Trist, just remove, as quickly as possible, line:
there is no sanctuary.​

(thus making your poem superb :)).

Regards,
 
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A Love Sonnet
by xKristinex ©

Give me not all the riches of the earth
Such petty things are meaningless to me
I want no sort of fame or glory birth
For these don’t make a person rich you see
My happiness can only come with you
And with your love my joy can’t be contained
Have faith within my love for it is true
Without your love I only feel my pain
And yet no matter what my mind dost say
My loyalty to you never shall cease
Where you’re concerned my heart will lead the way
Give me your love and leave my heart in peace
And love, do tell me now if you believe I truly jest
No earthly wealth could give me what your wealth of love gives best




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Here's another of Boo's lovely works; I was struck by how she even got YDD to use the thermometer ~ I thought that that was almost unheard of!



A Song For My Mandolin
by BooMerengue ©

I am the place you put your dreams
when dust too thickly lies

I am the mood you fast embrace
when stars fall from your eyes

I welcome you with kind mien
I urge you closer, pull you in

I slither through your daily rite
I slink into your bed at night

I block your ears
I still your tears
I dull your fears

I take away your every care
and say to you...

I am Despair.


This is for my love John Donne whom I could only dream of emulating.



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