all of a sudden passion suddenly

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HI guys. Most of my lines are spur of the moment kinda thingees. I can't write poetry, I just write. Most of the time it's just for me so this is a BIG step up. Critics are more than welcome.

Nay! Silent night
nor sleep delight
A flounders kiss
of crickets hiss

Melody masking rain and sea
clouding over, misteriously, memory
A hairless whisper out of reach
leaves fall drearily, a distant peach

Deserving the unnerving escapes the train
and hopeful trains track steady again
Doors closing exposing a ticklish fear
Next stop: peaches
Stand clear

:rose::kiss::rose:

hi aussie
 
written at 3:23 on 2-19-2011 after waking up from a bad dream. In the dream my daughter (which I don't have) was leaving me because she wanted to go to another family. I reached for my partner, who dissipated into nothing.

'Tis better to have loved and lost is bullshit

My hand reaches for the one never found.
The thing that isn't,
sucked by a snaking tube,
sloshed in an orange sack,
tossed in a garbage heap.

What isn't is lost--
The isn't Einstein, Mozart, Shelly, Ghandi,
or is of my own insanity.

I cry,
half between sleep and dream.
She hears, embraces,
stirring sanity as a final offering . . .

but what is real too may fade.
 
written at 3:23 on 2-19-2011 after waking up from a bad dream. In the dream my daughter (which I don't have) was leaving me because she wanted to go to another family. I reached for my partner, who dissipated into nothing.

'Tis better to have loved and lost is bull

It's better to know someone then to not know them at all. Doesn't matter if they're a crappy person, disfigured, handicapped, or a douche.

I know lots of douches. They're nice people when you talk to them. But the weird... Fetish and all that jazz... I can't wrap my noggin around
 
It's better to know someone then to not know them at all. Doesn't matter if they're a crappy person, disfigured, handicapped, or a douche.

I know lots of douches. They're nice people when you talk to them. But the weird... Fetish and all that jazz... I can't wrap my noggin around

I don't believe what I wrote gs. It just came out that way in that moment. The poem is bitter--about the conflict between a woman's right to choose (abortion) and religion--a conflict within me.

I am pained by my abortion, by what I did, but I also think of how bad life would have started for that baby--a queer mother who was 19 and fucking many guys to make her unqueer--didn't quite take. I could not even be sure of the father. I was the weird gs--the fetish--the jazz.

One dwells upon humanities potential loss when one aborts.

I think too much for my own good--sometimes it does not serve me well.
Thank god my partner puts up with my neediness of her, and my mistakes of the past--and the mistakes certainly to occur in the future. I am a fortunate woman to have escaped from a hell into her patient arms. She rescued me and will always be my Jesus.
 
The Mistress of the Dance

gyrating wildly
flying across the stage
enraged, still smiling though
gut churning, mind spinning away
you turn together, he dips you,
your eyes meet his
screaming
he knows
you saw
 
Hi!

You aren't weird. I didn't mean you or your poem lol. You're a champion E. I'm sorry that things have been a bit rough. You do what's best for you. Hey it's great you've found jesus :)



Weird. Is "weird" old English?
Hmm.
Wyrd, meaning fate, personal destiny. The three weird sisters. Interesting...
http://www.wyrdwords.vispa.com/heathenry/whatwyrd.html

Oh, I do confuse. No, I actually haven'y found him; I fight a belief system from my youth that is embedded in my brain, call it guilt by child rearing. We always can blame that, huh?

And I like weird.
 
Moon hung low
Reflected light's reflection
The big catch on the lake's surface
Only stars are minnows released
As lapping waves break in tenderness
Foaming, lightly frothed star-fish now jumbled
Against driftwood sand, pine cones & old fishing line
Liquid making love to land as I wait for another haul of stars at my feet
 
Hi!

You aren't weird. I didn't mean you or your poem lol. You're a champion E. I'm sorry that things have been a bit rough. You do what's best for you. Hey it's great you've found jesus :)



Weird. Is "weird" old English?
Hmm.
Wyrd, meaning fate, personal destiny. The three weird sisters. Interesting...
http://www.wyrdwords.vispa.com/heathenry/whatwyrd.html

Thanks for the link. Sometimes the etymological bug will bite me and I'll go off and check a word or few. Recently that happened with 'tattletale'. My wife stated that her mother had referred to her sister as a tattletale. Got to thinking about it, as initial comment was in German and wondered if basically same or not (not).
 
Thanks for the link. Sometimes the etymological bug will bite me and I'll go off and check a word or few. Recently that happened with 'tattletale'. My wife stated that her mother had referred to her sister as a tattletale. Got to thinking about it, as initial comment was in German and wondered if basically same or not (not).

No worries

Yeah I know the feeling. Curiosity.

There are some words that mean something totally different in other places of the world. Thongs for eg. You should have seen how much grief I copped over that one.


;)
 
Birds

i.

Starlings unravel stars
with their brilliant marquetry.
The fields are alive with hushed
jealousies.

ii.

Oystercatchers shovel sand
with popsicle beaks. Our thumbs
can only go so far.

iii.

The sky sheds its tern colours.
Magpies climb the tallest pines
to rifle through its feathers.
 
i.

Starlings unravel stars
with their brilliant marquetry.
The fields are alive with hushed
jealousies.

ii.

Oystercatchers shovel sand
with popsicle beaks. Our thumbs
can only go so far.

iii.

The sky sheds its tern colours.
Magpies climb the tallest pines
to rifle through its feathers.

In the Appalachian spring robins
scour dirt in the yard hoppingly

and even hopefully should a bug
make an untimely appearance

or a worm unbury itself slimy
zombie the blackbird swoops

and carries it off. The Sun
beams the woods hum

pleased to be waking trees
with chatter, boast and pleas

enough for any city street
but shh the mountains sleep.

Welcome back, friend. :heart:
 
i.

Starlings unravel stars
with their brilliant marquetry.
The fields are alive with hushed
jealousies.

ii.

Oystercatchers shovel sand
with popsicle beaks. Our thumbs
can only go so far.

iii.

The sky sheds its tern colours.
Magpies climb the tallest pines
to rifle through its feathers.

Hallelujah! He returns. :)
 
Winter Steam

The bills are paid, and
soft willows slumber
while fire-whispers
soothe the wane of winter.

Azure flashes in this girl’s eyes
as gray wood cracks the passion, and
her breath shimmers dreams
in a blaze of steam.

She’s peaceful in this place,
far away from the hustle of
do this
do that
live life
live death
lose hope
spew faith
all this
not that—
dreams buried in the flurry as
hubbub stymies self in an
unending
untended
untempered
pace toward dearth.

She journeys easy now,
her eyes embracing truth,
her body surging need.

Marshmallows swim on
foaming waves through
the chocolate sea,
enticing timid lips to test--
she sips with practiced ease.

In humid, sultry rhythm,
she sets her cup to rest, and
teasing with the smallest wink

reaches for my breast.


*****


:rose: to the Gardener for the edit

Really, really nice. :)
 
He taught me to pronounce Andelucia,
Andelutheea rolled off his Spanish tongue
as his gaze trickled down my spine
promises of untold passions
fuelled by hot summer sun
beneath the olives.

Back in rain swept London
I dream of Mediterranean moonlight
and the depth of dark Spanish eyes
that opened and caressed my senses.
I wonder who he beguiles
and beds tonight.
 
He taught me to pronounce Andelucia,
Andelutheea rolled off his Spanish tongue
as his gaze trickled down my spine
promises of untold passions
fuelled by hot summer sun
beneath the olives.

Back in rain swept London
I dream of Mediterranean moonlight
and the depth of dark Spanish eyes
that opened and caressed my senses.
I wonder who he beguiles
and beds tonight.

whew!

that is steamy and subtle, immediate and awesome. I love it!
 
Our First Date.

mist arm-deep over the path
we pass the artic beech
dodge leeches, stinging tree leaves
by lunch we reach the falls
water so crystalline, each rock is clear
stripping ourselves clean of the world
we leap, naked, into pools so cold
we overlook seeing each other
 
mist arm-deep over the path
we pass the artic beech
dodge leeches, stinging tree leaves
by lunch we reach the falls
water so crystalline, each rock is clear
stripping ourselves clean of the world
we leap, naked, into pools so cold
we overlook seeing each other

^^ and there you've done it again - lead us on then bam! you change things up at the end making me evaluate the whole piece again from the beginning! this is why i enjoy reading you so much, v.
 
My k6yboard isfwucke3d up
and I don't know wha4t I'll do
for my pwom should sing a ;;e3k
instead it'sdsaying adieu to thestick
y3e buzz the worsd in my head
are fnschgaled and when I #E$%^
who knows what yet may
 
I wish I could say
I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness
but they weren't the best minds.
They weren't above average.
They were just ordinary,
getting along and going along
and afraid of nothing.
Not afraid of the future, unaware it was coming
until it passed into a cloud of no regrets,
dying one by one,
untried and untested, for lack of nothing
and everything.
 
He taught me to pronounce Andelucia,
Andelutheea rolled off his Spanish tongue
as his gaze trickled down my spine
promises of untold passions
fueled by hot summer sun
beneath the olives.

Back in rain swept London
I dream of Mediterranean moonlight
and the depth of dark Spanish eyes
that opened and caressed my senses.
I wonder who he beguiles
and beds tonight.
sensual, and his eyes are like black olives.... *thumbs up*

My k6yboard isfwucke3d up
and I don't know wha4t I'll do
for my pwom should sing a ;;e3k
instead it'sdsaying adieu to thestick
y3e buzz the worsd in my head
are fnschgaled and when I #E$%^
who knows what yet may
i do so hope this is deliberate - it rawks :D

I wish I could say
I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness
but they weren't the best minds.
They weren't above average.
They were just ordinary,
getting along and going along
and afraid of nothing.
Not afraid of the future, unaware it was coming
until it passed into a cloud of no regrets,
dying one by one,
untried and untested, for lack of nothing
and everything.
ahhhhhhhh.... this leaves me with a sigh. leaves me considering...
 
My k6yboard isfwucke3d up
and I don't know wha4t I'll do
for my pwom should sing a ;;e3k
instead it'sdsaying adieu to thestick
y3e buzz the worsd in my head
are fnschgaled and when I #E$%^
who knows what yet may

You've obviously type this on my old laptop. Very funny and original something it takes a lot to be in poetry.
 
I wish I could say
I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness
but they weren't the best minds.
They weren't above average.
They were just ordinary,
getting along and going along
and afraid of nothing.
Not afraid of the future, unaware it was coming
until it passed into a cloud of no regrets,
dying one by one,
untried and untested, for lack of nothing
and everything.

Clever take but oh how it makes me feel old...
 
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