This Sidewalk Reserved

[champagne1982]

In honour of our venerable giant, Ogg, I dedicate this space to "Chalk Poetry".

Write it here and let it rest until rain or the passage of time should wear it away...


There was once a fine Henry named Ogg
who was convinced he should author a blog
of fine English wit
and about silly twits
the poor man was soon lost in the fog.

 

[normal jean]

about that smell....

we're pretty sure it was a 'possum
though hubby was afraid to crawl
beneath the basement and check it out
to him, it was nothing at all.

the smell grew worse as days went by
the presence of green flies was proof
so I donned protective gear, duct
tape rounded wrists and ankles

and I was off to explore,
beneath the bedroom floor
not hoping to find
anything of the burying kind

I was lucky in that respect, though
it took almost a month
for the thing that rotted,
that I never found
to finally take leave

but now I'm the man of the house.

 

[GuiltyPleasure]

I never believed but
just in case
I never stepped on
those sidewalk cracks

just in case

it broke my mothers back.

 

[oggbashan]

My poem owns this stone
Please find your own -
Until the rushing rain
Wipes stone bare again,
Leave my words alone.

Og

 

[Angeline]

Not my poem (I wish it were!), but I heard someone on tv use it in reference to the late Ted Kennedy. I totally see that, but even if you don't it's always good to read some Wallace Stevens.

The Emperor of Ice-Cream
Wallace Stevens

Call the roller of big cigars,
The muscular one, and bid him whip
In kitchen cups concupiscent curds.
Let the wenches dawdle in such dress
As they are used to wear, and let the boys
Bring flowers in last month's newspapers.
Let be be finale of seem.
The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream.

Take from the dresser of deal,
Lacking the three glass knobs, that sheet
On which she embroidered fantails once
And spread it so as to cover her face.
If her horny feet protrude, they come
To show how cold she is, and dumb.
Let the lamp affix its beam.
The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream.

 

[champagne1982]

If ice cream were a royal dish
we'd all need crowns and scepters
each child would rule the world and scream...
I AM THE EMPEROR OF ICE CREAM!

 

[EroticOrogeny]

In honour of our venerable giant, Ogg, I dedicate this space to "Chalk Poetry".

Write it here and let it rest until rain or the passage of time should wear it away...


There was once a fine Henry named Ogg
who was convinced he should author a blog
of fine English wit
and about silly twits
the poor man was soon lost in the fog.

Long time ago I teasingly called my youngest sister a 'silly twit',
She responded - "I'm a normal twit"

 

[oggbashan]

On the wall the invisible finger wrote, and having writ
No scribe or scholar could make sense of it
Until a passing artist looked, had a laughing fit
And asked "Are you all blind or totally lacking in wit?
It's a drawing of the Goddess Astarte's left tit."

 

[champagne1982]

We can't let the weather
the deluge of spattered
poems wash these tattered
musings into the gutter
to be detrius-splattered
as if they never mattered...

 

[oggbashan]

Do not worry, do not fret.
The poems live on yet -
Digital camera's done the trick.
Every word taken with a click
Will be posted on the net.

(But I'm not telling you where. That would identify my home town.)

Og

 

[BooMerengue]

Was it Demerol that came to me;
she said "I'll make you well!"?
Or Dilaudid whispering in my ear
who wiped away my final tear
and dragged me into Hell?

I got away from both of them
and other demons, too,
the laughing ones I thought I loved
that always left me so unmoved
but now I hear the bell

The one that tolls for me.


(started but not yet finished cuz I just went dry...)

 

[arielsgoddess]

This Sidewalk Reserved...For Two

He drew her form from memory
In soft scrapes and harsh scratches
Until the chalk layered upon itself
Began to lend her real dimension
The silk and velvet feel of her skin
Not much different from the powder
How many hours passed he did not care
For they were spent in this way with her
Tracing and retracing and aching sensations
Longing with all his body that she would reach
Across time and reality up from the pavement
To touch him just as he were touching her
So strongly did he feel this in his vigilance
That for a moment he thought it worked
As her previously dry eyes sparkled out
Suddenly he jolted at the bullets of rain
Striking him as he helplessly watched it
Puffing her into a marshmallow painting
Then drowning her form in its depth
The persistence of weather washing away
Until sunlight reclaimed her abstract beauty
Whispering softly from the sidewalk
Just as she always was in the back of his mind