Tanka Poem

[puppett]

Love Song

Lilac petals fell,
fragrant drifts on late Spring air
fallen to my skin,
silk upon my creamy flesh,
while you shook the branch and smiled.

lovely

 

[puppett]

This is true

i would take mine with me

 

[puppett]

candle drips slowly
creaks and whispers overwhelm
wild sage crushed under
night skin soaks the weeping dew
melting in lavender hue

 

[NivKay]

New day like sun burst,
Earth crackles awake, crisp, sharp.
Your death forgotten,
A scar on time's fossil skin,
New day mocks the cold in me.

 

[Angeline]

New day like sun burst,
Earth crackles awake, crisp, sharp.
Your death forgotten,
A scar on time's fossil skin,
New day mocks the cold in me.

This is great. I especially like "A scar on time's fossil skin"

 

[WCSGarland]

This is great. I especially like "A scar on time's fossil skin"

I find that line at odds with the previous line... if anything it is ironic to the meaning of Your death forgotten... how can a scar be something that is forgotten? Or am I misreading?

 

[Angeline]

I find that line at odds with the previous line... if anything it is ironic to the meaning of Your death forgotten... how can a scar be something that is forgotten? Or am I misreading?

Probably not. I'm not sure what time's fossil skin is. Maybe a scar on it is ancient, like a fossil, and an old scar is a faint memory of the event that caused it. So yes it would make more sense to say almost forgotten, no? That's my interpretation anyway. But I still love that line.

 

[NivKay]

The author is truly dead.. it’s fascinating isn’t it? The text (good or bad) lives in the interpretive schemes of the reader.

I see scars as remnants, not revenants. The scar may be a reminder of something in the past, but the dead skin is also a reminder of the passing of something.

And if it is a scar on time’s fossil skin, time itself has ceased, since fossils, in my mind, are reminders of the absence of things.

Things that are forgotten are never really completely gone. They’re there under the surface, like fossils, I remembered.

But, I’m happy for you lot to keep going - it’s fascinating our different readers see things differently. I love that - it’s magic to me!

 

[WCSGarland]

The author is truly dead.. it’s fascinating isn’t it? The text (good or bad) lives in the interpretive schemes of the reader.

I see scars as remnants, not revenants. The scar may be a reminder of something in the past, but the dead skin is also a reminder of the passing of something.

And if it is a scar on time’s fossil skin, time itself has ceased, since fossils, in my mind, are reminders of the absence of things.

Things that are forgotten are never really completely gone. They’re there under the surface, like fossils, I remembered.

But, I’m happy for you lot to keep going - it’s fascinating our different readers see things differently. I love that - it’s magic to me!

I try not to play with dead things though.

 

[Tzara]

even in summer
so many long days of rain
drumming on the roof—
like roses losing petals
I think you will forget me

 

[Angeline]

Old Fashioned

Trane is old fashioned
according to the sweet song
that cloaks my morning
in such luxurious jazz
as if the day holds promise.

 

[_Land]

Apple blossom girl
twilight blooms inside her sway
haru no yoru hums
her silk scent folds into dusk
and lingers like lost first heat

 

[_Land]

autumn leaves falling
dreams of her soft shoulders stir
deep in the rain’s haze
I steer toward dangerous curves
where her kiss waits in the dusk

 

[Voboy]

Hair peaked like whipped cream
Over sun-crisped face agleam
With beaded water
Dripping over snarly lip
When lifeguards close down the pool.

 

[WCSGarland]

Go on, strap me in,
Make me ready for your ride,
But leave me sitting,
Before the ride's sudden start,
Heart paused, expecting the thrill.

 

[puppett]

Autumn rain whispers
Drifting heavy, with frozen mist
A lone bird searches
Lost, beneath silver webbed leaves
Haunting of a song, long gone

 

[AlinaX]

f u her tattoo
peeking beneath the denim
of her too short skirt
but no, I am mistaken
the message runs deeper still

 

[Angeline]

So many poets
Variegated as flowers
Roses and flytraps
You never know what you'll get
A world of petals and thorns

 

[Voboy]

Harder path chosen
Leads to better path within
Weak and feeble mind
Battered by life's waves and winds
But still able to choose well.

the hardest part of these? doing them without any punctuation. i try!

 

[_Land]

Monsoon words falling
off tongue-tip like plum blossoms
soft, and never caught.
Ink bleeds into washi sheets
where silence begins to drown.

 

[AlinaX]

chastity chain mail
for keeping a new slave boy
properly contoured
let him play with his clitty
so long as he’s pleasure’s bitch

(New story today.)

 

[AlinaX]

trapped in the future
our football jock in high heels
has lots to swallow
he looks so sweet on his knees
blushing before his mistress

 

[NivKay]

Greetings mortals

 

[AlinaX]

Aphrodite would
an impromptu bukkake
reward with laughter
but punish too with desire
that would humble a satyr

 

[AlinaX]

alas, I am drained
not once, but again! again!
for defiling her…
how cruel her marble gaze
to stir so my mortal flesh