normal jean
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Mar 13, 2004
- Posts
- 1,193
............ what was I thinking?
Last edited:
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I have a few poems that I did not get around to "fixing" in Anna's Spring Cleaning thread, so I am starting this one to reinflate the ones that need it. Anyone else who needs the space, be my guest, but I have no chef, no strippers, no buffoonery or acrobatics, just poems that need help.
as far as mine go, anyone who has a suggestion, it is welcomed. If you just wanna hide out and giggle at how bad my stuff is, (which I do when it is something I haven't seen in a long time) you're welcome to do that as well, but whatever the reason, if you enter, always know you are welcome here.
jean
plum tomatoes
If the sun ever moves
away from the front porch
I’ll plant plum tomatoes in the shade,
Near latticed frames you built
when we were more than strangers
sharing roof and walls.
We were good at building things
but we forgot to strengthen us
and dreams convulsed into boredom,
flaccid death rattle, and eventually
I think we’ve made a mistake.
Your departure resonates like thunder
on a cloudless day and loosens the soil
near the latticed frames you built
And had we both been plum tomatoes,
you never would have thought to build
those goddamned, latticed frames.
plum tomatoes
If the sun ever moves
away from the front porch
I’ll plant plum tomatoes in the shade,
Near latticed frames you built
when we were more than strangers
sharing roof and walls.
We were good at building things
but we forgot to strengthen us
and dreams convulsed into boredom,
flaccid death rattle, and eventually
I think we’ve made a mistake.
Your departure resonates like thunder
on a cloudless day and loosens the soil
near the latticed frames you built
And had we both been plum tomatoes,
you never would have thought to build
those goddamned, latticed frames.
hey gorgeous!! If you wanna pop in and whip something up, I have a passion for anything Italian
smoochies
jean
I totally love this poem. I love front porches, tomatoes, and I love someone who writes about the sort of things I write about sometimes.plum tomatoes
If the sun ever moves
away from the front porch
I’ll plant plum tomatoes in the shade,
Near latticed frames you built
when we were more than strangers
sharing roof and walls.
We were good at building things
but we forgot to strengthen us
and dreams convulsed into boredom,
flaccid death rattle, and eventually
I think we’ve made a mistake.
Your departure resonates like thunder
on a cloudless day and loosens the soil
near the latticed frames you built
And had we both been plum tomatoes,
you never would have thought to build
those goddamned, latticed frames.
I like the edit, except for losing "beneath the pine."First, I'd like to tell you I think it's wonderful that you've adapted and adopted anna's challenge thread. Then, I am so glad you're bringing back your garden poems. It's exciting to think about you creating a little chapbook with drawings or photos of each poetic subject illustrating your lovely words. What?? We can dream and I'm betting you'd make a wonderful book with your poems. ... Maria's Garden ... <sigh>
and here's the poem I wrote for The_Fool's STC.
Submissive Origami
I am made of stuff that bends
and twists but won't hold a crease
so my white cranes don't fly
and my lotus blossom petals
flatten on the pond to float
as lilypads, bouyant, pliant
and a place to rest, your throat
ballooning as you serenade
the lady beneath the pine
who cannot know the agonies
of coming undone in your hands.
An observant soul from elsewhere in the world, mentioned that he found my frog reference unfathomable so I figured I'd better edit. Maybe I've ruined the impetuousness of the write but I think I still get that sad feeling to come across.
Submissive Origami (geisha's song)
I am made of stuff that bends
and twists but won't hold a crease
so my white cranes don't fly
and my lotus blossom petals
flatten on the pond to float
as lilypads, bouyant, pliant;
a place to rest. Kaero's throat
balloons as he serenades
the maiko, outside the door,
who cannot know the agonies
of coming undone in your hands.
Submissive Origami (geisha's song)I like the edit, except for losing "beneath the pine."
Great poem.