COVID-19 RESOURCES
LIT CAMS (200 Free Tokens)ADULT TOYSVOD MOVIES

not sure how many words

Terpsichorean Season

A slight rustle pulls my eye
up as oak leaves twirl
their way down to the slick forest
floor where the music dies
and dew inks their decay
into a nameless slate
warmed by the cooling sun
that slips through the fingers
of the autumn sky. A reminder
we live under a finite light
but there is beauty
in the dance between dusts.
 
Last edited:
Lay down a dub step
little bitta back beat
flash a little high thigh
drip a droppa sweet sweat
puddle on the floor like
singing in the rain girl
like ginger an’ astaire there
patent leather shoe shine
we be singin' in the rain
 
darkmaas said:
Lay down a dub step
little bitta back beat
flash a little high thigh
drip a droppa sweet sweat
puddle on the floor like
singing in the rain girl
like ginger an’ astaire there
patent leather shoe shine
we be singin' in the rain
Click to expand...

This is a friggen amazing little piece
 
darkmaas said:
Lay down a dub step
little bitta back beat
flash a little high thigh
drip a droppa sweet sweat
puddle on the floor like
singing in the rain girl
like ginger an’ astaire there
patent leather shoe shine
we be singin' in the rain
Click to expand...
love this, dm - what's the name of the song this is riffed from? on the tip of my tongue but i know i know it :rose:
 
KatieJones said:
Terpsichorean Season

A slight rustle pulls my eye
up as oak leaves twirl
their way down to the slick forest
floor where the music dies
and dew inks their decay
into a nameless slate
warmed by the cooling sun
that slips through the fingers
of the autumn sky. A reminder
we live under a finite light
but there is beauty
in the dance between dusts.
Click to expand...

this

is beautiful
 
KatieJones said:
Terpsichorean Season

A slight rustle pulls my eye
up as oak leaves twirl
their way down to the slick forest
floor where the music dies
and dew inks their decay
into a nameless slate
warmed by the cooling sun
that slips through the fingers
of the autumn sky. A reminder
we live under a finite light
but there is beauty
in the dance between dusts.
Click to expand...

What I like as a reader of poetry is when a poet gives you enough, except for a word you don't know. And then in this age of the Internet, you look it up in a second or two, and then you find delight.
 
They are gathering the burlap,
Scraping coffinwood to nail the corners.
Murder school is back in session and the
Leaders are grey and feminine in those streets.

I gander a hyacynth, blue and electric,
Blow by tobacco fields and borrowpit creeks,
Out into the china Mountains, gray chalk pyramids
Rise up in my sight.

I choose indiscriminate nuetrality,
I look for a diamond in a mudpuddle,
Something significant like
2 guitars, bass and drums.
Reverb in a cave full of Abalone bells.
 
Sentence Commuted

Drive against the current
of the morning rush
past the line
of coloured metal cages
that frame, unblinking
silent faces. Focused
lifeless dolls, staring
through the plastic screens
of their boxes, waiting
to be saved from the shelf
unaware or unwilling to see
their half-smiles
were painted on
by the same hands
holding the wheel.
 
Last edited:
todski28 said:
damn you're good, imagery, sonics, internal rhyme!
Click to expand...

she(?) is! i always come away satisfied from having read one of hers. she manages to make it look simple, but that takes skill and this one has it in buckets.
 
butters said:
she(?) is! i always come away satisfied from having read one of hers. she manages to make it look simple, but that takes skill and this one has it in buckets.
Click to expand...

:) She. And thank you!!

I wish I could join in the 30s or 7s fun but alas that kind of run is doomed to fail for me. I am enjoying everyone's work. I find it takes a serious switching of gears for me to be able to write and I often can only do that after reading here for awhile. I feel empty of words because my mind is so full of the everyday and then suddenly because of your words, words and images start to bubble up and the spark slowly lights. I love the feeling of that light so thanks for the inspiration.


Ice Storm

Diamond skins encase hickory
skeletons now too slippery
to be scavenged by the black squirrels.
Shakespeare and the seasons forever
reminding us that all that glistens
is not gold as a ring of ice compresses
the view from my window to one
of all white. The back field has evolved
into an empty matte and even memories
of colour have slipped from the frame.

As I watch the emptiness and feel
the silence while the seeds sleep I see
the deer search in vain for green
their feet caught as the ice cracks
and the coyotes answer my call for colour
with a spray of red that I must convince
myself is natural despite the heaviness
of its stain
across my consciousness and the snow.
 
Last edited:
KatieJones said:
:) She. And thank you!!

I wish I could join in the 30s or 7s fun but alas that kind of run is doomed to fail for me. I am enjoying everyone's work. I find it takes a serious switching of gears for me to be able to write and I often can only do that after reading here for awhile. I feel empty of words because my mind is so full of the every day and then suddenly because of your words, words and images start to bubble up and the spark is slowly lights. I love the feeling of that light so thanks for the inspiration.


Ice Storm

Diamond skins encase hickory
skeletons now too slippery
to be scavenged by the black squirrels.
Shakespeare and the seasons forever
reminding us that all that glistens
is not gold as a ring of ice compresses
the view from my window to one
of all white. The back field has evolved
into an empty matte and even memories
of colour have slipped from the frame.

As I watch the emptiness and feel
the silence while the seeds sleep I see
the deer search in vain for green
their feet caught as the ice cracks
and the coyotes answer my call for colour
with a spray of red that I must convince
myself is natural despite the heaviness
of its stain
across my consciousness and the snow.
Click to expand...

The fury and design of nature across a prism of colors that include beauty and death, this poem is remarkable.
 
Colours display
stark clarity, snow white
winter sleet, diamonds
hardened clear,
where once the colours danced
they are maimed by winters bane
blanketing the green

replete a repeat
seasons turn
as we yearn for release
preadtor on prey
splash that slash
of crimson
on pristine white
a death to die
a found respite

visceral life
drunk on color
dim my view
as I imbibe another
black
as sleep falls
 
greenmountaineer said:
The fury and design of nature across a prism of colors that include beauty and death, this poem is remarkable.
Click to expand...

Thanks, GM! Coming from someone with your eye for the world and control of the language that's quite a compliment and I appreciate it. I tuck all of them away to pull out when the blank page stares at me and all the self doubt starts to scream. :)
 
Last edited:
KatieJones said:
:) She. And thank you!!

I wish I could join in the 30s or 7s fun but alas that kind of run is doomed to fail for me. I am enjoying everyone's work. I find it takes a serious switching of gears for me to be able to write and I often can only do that after reading here for awhile. I feel empty of words because my mind is so full of the everyday and then suddenly because of your words, words and images start to bubble up and the spark slowly lights. I love the feeling of that light so thanks for the inspiration.


Ice Storm

Diamond skins encase hickory
skeletons now too slippery
to be scavenged by the black squirrels.
Shakespeare and the seasons forever
reminding us that all that glistens
is not gold as a ring of ice compresses
the view from my window to one
of all white. The back field has evolved
into an empty matte and even memories
of colour have slipped from the frame.

As I watch the emptiness and feel
the silence while the seeds sleep I see
the deer search in vain for green
their feet caught as the ice cracks
and the coyotes answer my call for colour
with a spray of red that I must convince
myself is natural despite the heaviness
of its stain
across my consciousness and the snow.
Click to expand...

sorry, completely missed this and your reply. this really shows so vividly, with contrasts between the almost sleepy mood
an empty matte and even memories
of colour have slipped from the frame.

As I watch the emptiness and feel
the silence
Click to expand...
and the splash of action/colour.

looking through i pared some words away (in my head) and didn't feel it hurt the piece. i'll come back and look again when i'm not so sleepy, though, as i might be wrong and the extra words are needed to maintain the smoothness before the abrupt contrasts.

always a pleasure to read your work; it's fresh for me.
 
a suggestion, katie - ignore it if it doesn't suit :)

Ice Storm

Diamond skins encase hickory
skeletons now too slippery
to be scavenged by black squirrels.
Shakespeare and the seasons forever
remind us that all that glistens
is not gold as a ring of ice compresses
views from my window to one
of all white. The back field has evolved
into an empty matte where even memories
of colour have slipped from the frame.

As I watch emptiness and feel
silence while seeds sleep, I see
deer search in vain for green
their feet caught as ice cracks
and coyotes answer my call
for colour with a spray of red I
must convince myself is natural
despite the heaviness of its stain.





maybe glisters instead of glistens, still giving you sound/eye links to squirrels/forever/compresses
 
Last edited:
butters said:
a suggestion, katie - ignore it if it doesn't suit :)

Ice Storm

Diamond skins encase hickory
skeletons now too slippery
to be scavenged by black squirrels.
Shakespeare and the seasons forever
remind us that all that glistens
is not gold as a ring of ice compresses
views from my window to one
of all white. The back field has evolved
into an empty matte where even memories
of colour have slipped from the frame.

As I watch emptiness and feel
silence while seeds sleep, I see
deer search in vain for green
their feet caught as ice cracks
and coyotes answer my call
for colour with a spray of red I
must convince myself is natural
despite the heaviness of its stain.





maybe glisters instead of glistens, still giving you sound/eye links to squirrels/forever/compresses
Click to expand...

Thanks so much for taking time to look at that piece. Although rhyme doesn't figure prominently or any formal structure I do always have a sense of rhythm which may be something only I hear :) but it's probably one of the strongest driving forces that shape my writing. When I write I constantly edit in loops by reading the poem start to finish (as it is) out loud to myself. (which causes people to think I am insane) I think some of the smaller words that seem unnecessary in terms of meaning help my ear with that sense of rhythm and the flow of the piece.

However, that does not mean that they have to be there! They may be obscuring or softening the meaning of certain lines. I will take a good look at your suggestions because they all seem valid. Although I edit a lot as I write, I definitely wait a bit before I go at a poem with a final edit so I will add your suggestions to my file for when I have some poetic distance from that one and I'm ready to perform surgery. ;)

I think I did have glisters and word auto-corrected me. :) I like the idea of being accurate if I'm alluding to something so I will definitely switch that back.

Ask any time I'd be happy to return the favour and offer my eyes on one of yours. :)
 
halleluya,
music brings me to tears.
heart of railroad steel
derailed
on a long steady decline
from the treeline to the city-

what to do with all this air,
that is the challenge.
wilderness.
 
country radio on the fly

a suggestion of rhyme,
blowing thru the 4 lane,
a pedal steel in the railyard
hymns of confession, all in
4 4 time.

settle in for the freezout
buckle up for the climb
thirsting for clarity
in this bourbon town of mine.

on the sidewalks the buskers
platinum sprayed mimes
nothing more than a suggestion
bag it up
in 4 4 time.

now my 12 string is sold,
for a pocketful of chance
the price of gold is fallen
and i dont understand.

searching for a truer sound
flip it over to AM.
sliding down the tehachapees
to bakersfield again.
 
news travels
across county lines
time zones
and mountain ranges.

krakatoa
crack of dawn
air as a habit,
too early as it were.

red brick folksinger
lays it down on
gamblin days
lost and won.

Likes to hear his story told
From Tenessee to Texas
As if its the only
One.
 
You must log in or register to reply here.

Similar threads

THROBBS
ABC Exhausting, though not Exhaustive
Replies
7
Views
6K
dombeotch
D
Back
Top