Posted on 11/24/2003 9:52:48 AM PST by 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!
i haven't
forgotten
you
night
takes
its toll
admonishing
dawn
to mourn
morning
compromise
mimosa sunrise
a memory
self portrait
contrite that
mirrors matter
more
than exposure
and my
response
dawn's
a standalone
encounter, when
the shade
becomes the cast
shadow that defies
the reflection
repeating
in a shimmer
upon the wall,
clear at least
the truth of
an empty glass.
should I be
color-blind
to the arc of light
that brings the morning
to my sill
would be to forget
that you
are the dawn
of my awakened
heart
Still, life
Winter pears
on a pewter plate
face the breaking
radiance of day
that begins in the mist
of a reflecting rain.
Rejecting the faux
affected anachronism
of accent, favouring
instead the tonal
music of the matin
that swells into
the window frame
and blushes
from the shadows,
to shape
the considerations
of weight,
while red suggestions
amend the dimmer play
of dawn that keeps
its secrets in the nights
reluctant retreat,
and the repose
of our delay.
Oh my, what a beautiful painting. Thank You.
still
the small
black cat
trades off
my smoking
for stroking
in familiar
places
not worried
about the neighbors
imagine
a hummingbird bath
deep green glade
forest shade
sequestered
hidden at the end
of a mexican mud path
awaiting
the visitor's
flutter
what is the point
of perception
if someone else
does the painting
A lovely postcard!
:)
Earth tones
Double pierced breast
the mark of cat tooth,
creepful and careful
pounce, caught
at the last moment
of green and dispatched
to brown study,
everything
changes
to suit
circumstance.
the questions
are all rhetorical
the answers
never satisfy
through the years
and ages there are
eons of questions
with well-worn answers
that somehow don't fit
so we keep on asking
a silent universe
to fess up
spill the beans
give us the punchline
drop the other shoe
c'mon! you're kidding, right?
I don't believe that
man invented love
I do believe that
when we find it
all the really good questions
are answered
the eons crack with relief
and stoic, unmovable mountains
slide into the tides
with amazing joy
and instead of waiting
for the other shoe to drop
we go barefoot altogether
wondering why we
wondered why...
she was the poet
when the land
had no language
Oh my Camachee, you just took my breath away.
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