Kingsley Station

Original Poetry | 11/25/2003 | January24th

[January24th]

This is a thread for readers and writers of poetry. You are welcome to join in this quiet room, but please respect a few rules that will assure that this thread is easy to read, loads quickly, and maintains the confidence of the poets and readers.

1. Only original poetry, please. All poems are the property of the posting poet. Please do not copy or reproduce in another area.

2. Shhhh! Please keep chat or comments to a minimum.

3. No huge graphics, blinking smiley faces, etc. Just words, please. Let your words paint the image! (Plus, it's easier for dial-up friends to browse.)

That's it. Now, get busy and write!

[Camachee]

what miracle
occurred
that I should see
the rainbow
of your soul
the brightness
of your thoughts
and the halo
around your heart

[Camachee]

photography
is just
a gesture
drawing
relying less
on the talent
of the observer
than the occurrence
of opportunity

[Camachee]

weston
stylized
the gray tones
of creeping shade
and succumbed
to the feminine shadows
of mountains
and valleys
silouhettes of lovers
on california
stucco

[Kay Syrah]

lady slippers
cannot be transplanted
its a fact of ecology
and biology, see it
where it blooms and
seek no taking for
a foreign planting
come with me my love
and see our selves
growing in a new ground
where we watch orchids bloom.

[Camachee]

i'll never
regret
a lingering
midnight
save the one
that isn't
followed
by my surprise
at the colors
of dawn

[Camachee]

orchids decorate
air plants suspended in flight
reluctant to land

[Camachee]

what love
can i offer
considering
the distraction
of cameras
and cats
and the essence
of camellias
save a denouement
played out
before the director
calls cut
and we return
to roles
of indifference
insufferance

[Camachee]

space
has no bigotry
or intent

stasis
is more
outcome
than
objective

[Camachee]

someway
you remind me
of the holes
in my existence
the dark clusters
of drab days
and overlapping
yawns and dawns
derived
from the monotony
of under achievement
meant to disguise
disillusionment
and me

[Soaring Feather]

Wow this is so good. Last night's work was great, too. I want to respond to some of it. :-)

[Kay Syrah]

Sight seeing

Consider the sadness
of dubious angels and
incomplete devils,
mysterious strangers,
wandering into
their own duality
wondering if
reconciliation
is more than just
viewing the gorge
spanned by an
insignificant footbridge
of syllabic syncretism,
the crossing seeming
more frightening
but less thrilling
than an odyssey,
more imperative than
just getting to
the edge of the schism.

[Kay Syrah]

Wandering thru
Maturin in a
california winter
weekend, reflecting
on the density
of time as a function
of location and entertainment,
thinking that Melmoth
would ring up a no
sale for the extra 150
since the extra
time could be had for free
in one weekend in bakersfield
or so it seemed to me.

[Camachee]

some fogs
seem more mauve
but hesitant

[Kay Syrah]

fog is a paper wall
admitting light
while forming
a barrier easily breached,
sliding into the spaces
we seek to create,
it's a delicate defense
against unpartitioned
imaginings suggesting
restrictions, but requiring
obedience to its frailty
and relying upon restraint
to ensure the definition
of meaningful places.

[Soaring Feather]

Lovely.

[Kay Syrah]

Tired of grey weather,
and autistic temperatures
I'm ready for the red
of the warming season
and the cropping
of the edges of cold
retreats, whiskey
only works for a while
its a warming thing
for a cold season
but a quick heart beat
is better.

[Soaring Feather]

I needed a refuge
found it in the cold
of star filled nights
warm thoughts of
quilted comfort
with you...

[Kay Syrah]

It's a port of
opportunity
women who know men
and can find they
love them still,
feminist criticism
is a bitch.

[Soaring Feather]

Sometimes being a bitch is all a woman has....
Dolores Clayborn....

[Soaring Feather]

Embroidered on the quilt
is our history, warm loving nights
giggles over private jokes
looking at your five o'clock
shadow in moonlight
while drinking hot chocolate
and reviewing the day
with the cat wrapped around my feet
and me in your warm arms
remembering our loving hours
with the quilt
and moonlight lacing the wall...

bentfeather