WickedEve
save an apple, eat eve
- Joined
- Oct 20, 2001
- Posts
- 11,470
I just realized that no many poems for the 2nd were mentioned either.
Here's one I enjoyed by Du Lac: Celestial Breeze
Here's one I enjoyed by Du Lac: Celestial Breeze
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we made fun of them
& bragged about the adventure that awaited
& the guys with leather jackets
seemed to have a little more money
jingling in their pockets
& I heard them laughing as we pulled out
& I saw the little kids were no longer playing their game
& I waved to them
& they gave me the finger
We arrived in the parking lot as the 2837th bottle of beer
was being taken down
& passed around
& Miss Walker was looking haggard
& the bus driver was looking at the girls on the bus
This is a tour de force stream of conscious, childhood memory that needs to be read 3, 4, 5 times.We broke for lunch
& sat in the park eating sandwiches
& Charlie snuck a cigarette
behind the two giant lions
that guarded the steps to the museum
& I was glad I wasn’t a lion
‘cause I wouldn’t want to just sit there
I mean...that's just so rightIt’s a Wonderful Life
and when the bells ring
an angel gets its wings
attaboy Clarence!
but here the damn bells
ring all the time
for the changing of the guard
is it daytime or night
no matter
just count the wings
Pennsylvania 6-5000
Click
Do I wonder whether I have been good;
if Santa is bringing me coal again?
Do I worry whether Christmases past
will rise to haunt me, like they do sometimes?
Or, more likely, is it not the above,
and just the dull ache of my throbbing head?
misty is going out
to a forest of stars tonight
she wants to get laid
with campfire heat
but more than that
she wants the sterno flame
of unconditional love
You have a squirrel in your ear?WickedEve said:I haven't finished mentioning all the poems, yet. I tripped over a squirrel and hit my head on the monitor. I've been unconscious and draped over my keyboard for the past hour. So if anyone wants to review a poem, please do. If not, I'll be back once the ringing in my ears stops--and after the men come to remove the squirrel.
Angeline, god's other little angel, thank you.twelveoone said:You have a squirrel in your ear?
Since modesty will preclude eve from reviewing her own stuff.
This
jilted prayer
has to be the dearest sweetest prayer from one of the dearest sweetest women around
"ps... god. your little angel here. "
I think we should all hold hands and pray...that we don't get dizzy
a must... must...must...must
spence5969' s Adoration also had a few opening lines that I liked. This is a fresh look on often seen theme. Breaking this poem up in three different stanzas would've done this poem nicely, I think.The sun
Heated and luminous
Scorches my sleep-crusted eyelids
Daring me to see
jthserra will have to forgive me since I don't work with forms because I believe, Waiting for the Tide is one, but I suffer CRS. Although, I do think this is very calming, pretty piece of work here:I used to watch you with adoration,
until you told me to stop.
So now the corners of my eyes
are where my vision lies;
sneaking glimpses
where once long gazes lived.
My Erotic Tale' s erotic piece, float made me snicker reading "lager root in dairy-air". Fresh metaphor, delivered with sly humor. Great stuffIn the first colors of the rising sun
I see lonely silhouettes walk the beach,
Silent vigils in the wash of the waves,
Mothers and fathers waiting for the tide.
annaswirls's painted white, wraps up my review. I am not going to pretend and say I understand anna's poem this morning (then again, I haven't had my required pot of coffee to bathe my brain in caffeine either.), although I do enjoy this stanza in particular because it's so cold in Seattle:lager root in dairy-air
swirls around mounds
lip licking slurps
spoon and creamed
uplifting delight
A&W over Vanilla ice
cream ... floats
in holy matrimony
row six,
under the white paint you would find
wood charred black from the nights
I encouraged the fire to glow
a promise of a warmer morning for your tiny bare toes.
Laura walked on by at eight
on positively 4th Street
when neighbors own the square:
old women with suspicious eyes
and two unwary dogs passed there.
Two gamers jabbed indignance,
pointed at a snowy bench,
at no-go early morning chess.
But Laura!
Teenaged once and future empress
of the New York Tendaberry
walked by hip sista, daughter
of my tribe, Laura, urban blues
waif, tweed capped but tumbledown.
Her soul-smart black-brown eyes.
drips
rust
colored
brine
Cast out a new bait,
set drag....
sit down and drink up,
the beer....
I just stay straight and wait,
here comes another one.
Randi Grail's witty write, Musings On A Cock AV had me snickering (actually guffawing coffee on my monitor) in the Suddenly Passion thread and here I remain.Hombre cansado, I brush care
from your forehead, gather you
to me as earth accepts rain
and drowns, Amante, to grow anew
in cross currents of bliss and need.
That's all folks, what I considered good poetry. Go out support your own by commenting, voting and have a happy kind of a day .Or as close
as I would dare to lean
toward the innocent decoy screen,
before your jpeg jumped up,
like every bogeyman cliché,
when least expected.