pic-a-thon

[smithpeter]

Submit a poem with the image that inspired it.
Read the thing then look at the image.

_____________________________

your blouse tugs,
it has pleats that only exist
because of the way
you wrap your arms behind
your back and lean that way
forward,
with that smile
that black blouse
that smile
damn

it looks silky
may I sample with a simple
touch, a mere brush between
the finger tips that have minds
all
their own to own you

 

[WickedEve]

Roads Lead To You

At the end of the road you wait -
drew a map on my back before leaving.
Puddled images don't reflect the way,
all signs point N S E W.
Blind man, with fingertips,
reads only my need.

Dirt in shoes makes toes wiggle
to be painted red, spurted thick.
The shine on shoulders takes me back
to click, click, click and timers
where the last no slid to the ground,
and I was forever in your arms.

Roads lead to you.

 

[stargirl32]

I've searched for something,
Turned out boxes of memories,
Pictures dusty from forgotten dreams.
The box that once held your shoes.
Now tied with an old shoelace
Filled with scraps of a life no longer shared.
with only my fingerprints to disturb the dust.
A exercise book once held by you,
Filled with your childish scribbles.
No longer readable.
Pencil lines faded over the years .
Why can't I find it ?

Even monks dance when happy

You found your dream?

Why than am I so unhappy ?

 

[shanier]

Tough

Love me,
hurt me and not out of spite.
Split me into wet,
or whatever
and understand my drenching pain.
Tomorrow ask me if I truly wanted this.
Tonight keep my lips too busy to answer.

 

[smithpeter]

I am most happy when things work out well.
this is one of those times.
thank you all.
Eve, we can put a full size version of your pic up on the web. Golly, I love that photographer!

shanier, that looks mighty sticky. I have always been turned on by the sound of duct tape being pulled off the roll. Why do you think that is?

stargirl32, are all monks happy?

inspiring words.

A exercise book once held by you,
Filled with your childish scribbles.
No longer readable.
Pencil lines faded over the years.
Why can't I find it?

 

[WickedEve]

Glad you like the pic. I have a larger version. I know the photographer. He's a scruffy, funny, little man that uses his 1973 kodak camera. I heard that he took a pic of his back today. I thought it was odd. It must have been awkward for him.

 

[oxalis]

kerosene

it licks
it dwells in ponds
like fish on fire

do not touch me
or the things
I exhume

 

[Angeline]

you haunt me
with your soft
caress of ballad

get me drunk
on blues awake
my primal soul
to swing down low

your eyes are
brimming wise
with pain and soul
and mother wit

you speak to me
I hear you and it
does not stop

I want to bring you back
and hold you, lick your
unshed tears, and tell you

they were wrong
you were the best of us
you were America

you haunt me

 

[oxalis]

unshed tears, and tell you

or ushered fears, and fall over you

 

[Angeline]

i think i read that

fall over house of usher?

 

[smithpeter]

suddenly

someone hits me in the face
on my right side
the good side she thought
there are back and front sluts

but no
but know
it was good, like a stimulant
pumped from our sexual storage

knowing us the way we are now
knowing nothing, only getting
only showing, only letting the little
bits of life happen

soon to learn
we so much want to feel
suffer you,
suffer me

 

[stargirl32]

I am most happy when things work out well.
this is one of those times.
thank you all.

stargirl32, are all monks happy?

inspiring words.

A exercise book once held by you,
Filled with your childish scribbles.
No longer readable.
Pencil lines faded over the years.
Why can't I find it?

this is a great idea SP i often just flick through the pictures at art.com and such places,, if iam in a rut it helps to clear the fluff and get the juices flowing again ,, lol
i always thought that monks and nuns were extremly happy ,, but i just loved that picture as soon as i saw it ,
eve thanks for putting the photographers name up .. has he more stuff on the web.?. i'ed like to see more .

 

[WickedEve]

eve thanks for putting the photographers name up .. has he more stuff on the web.?. i'ed like to see more .

I have a whole bunch of photos by this photographer. One of flowers and an old Ford that's really neat; one of a full moon in the light of day. One that's rather artsy -- pair of unzipped jeans, with possibilities inside. He's really creative in an odd sort of way. I think it's mad genius... but I'm not sure. His photography makes you go, "Hmmmmmmm...."

 

[_Land]

Drifting Aimlessly

the sorrow, the grief overwhelming
adrift for a day, a month, a year
the place I grew
a beacon of light
I still can see
as i foat under the pale moon
past the distant shores of my childhood

 

[smithpeter]

past the distant shores of my childhood

very nice

 

[_Land]

The picture has special meaning to me, it is a water color that my mother did of the seascape where I grew up.

Thanks for the compliment...............

 

[WickedEve]

_land, water color and poem both very nice.

 

[_Land]

_land, water color and poem both very nice.

Thank You Eve of my wicked desires, I am still waiting anxiously for you to butt in on the other thread <WEG>

 

[Rybka]

You mean something like this?

Fall Foliage

 

[WickedEve]

You mean something like this?

Fall Foliage

Very nice, Rybka.

 

[smithpeter]

the call

a simple fuzzy story
gone to doggy style
poetry and split hairs

they both like something
only finding out is a task
a task and a half full flask
torture not meant to understand
only bump off of for a while

the windy music
your hair wraping around
her hair

 

[smithpeter]

Rybka

I saw that old man when I was a really young man.
The words seem to cascade.

 

[nakedangelina]

Goddess Whore

Subjugate me,
pull me by the hair,
dominate me,
tell me you don’t care.
Demoralize me,
I am yours to invade,
sensualize me,
marks that will not fade.
Carnalize me,
face down on the floor,
This is how I want it, baby,
I am your Goddess Whore.

 

[Lauren Hynde]

Excellent idea, smithpeter! Thank you! I'll have to come back and write a few more. Some of my more descriptive writings began like this.

 

[Lauren Hynde]

Post the Edicts!

Briefly I lie
for the very last time
post the edicts
like sovereigns of yore

Proclamations of nothing
dripping silence
over our heads
tuned to time

Briefly I lie
for loyalty

Open your eyes
invent your reality