Weekly Short Stories Contest and Company! discussion
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Haiku
M wrote: "She confessed in minor
chords as we wandered old piers’
sunset-engraved boards."
the swivel of chords
swizzle sticks turn into clefs
the sword craft of song
chords as we wandered old piers’
sunset-engraved boards."
the swivel of chords
swizzle sticks turn into clefs
the sword craft of song
M wrote: "Those sunburned summers
left me blind to her voice’s
beckoning fingers."
those peers gave me tears
daggled soles washed clean of years
so i went barefoot.
left me blind to her voice’s
beckoning fingers."
those peers gave me tears
daggled soles washed clean of years
so i went barefoot.
Ryan wrote: "Thanks, M.
Feathered in midnight
winter coats, crows slur murder
with discordant notes."
stirred - the sandpipers.
ere now i am a case worm.
urban ore on shores.
Feathered in midnight
winter coats, crows slur murder
with discordant notes."
stirred - the sandpipers.
ere now i am a case worm.
urban ore on shores.
M wrote: "Too busy drawing
conclusions to sketch in shades
of uncertainty,
she exclaimed, “The more
I’m exposed to light verse, the
more I develop.”"
nugatory shade
the notes are black, and the lines;
the white is off white.
conclusions to sketch in shades
of uncertainty,
she exclaimed, “The more
I’m exposed to light verse, the
more I develop.”"
nugatory shade
the notes are black, and the lines;
the white is off white.
M wrote: "Those sunburned summers
left me blind to her voice’s
beckoning fingers."
Tarriance dear Spring.
Your hydrofoil makes long
my apprehension.
left me blind to her voice’s
beckoning fingers."
Tarriance dear Spring.
Your hydrofoil makes long
my apprehension.
jade fingers rupturebrittle diamonds to enter
my dawning rapture
Low lids of amber;fingers of jade; faded gouache,
the mulberry shade.
Nice one, Alex!Her sighs, her lip gloss,
made him wary, for she wore
Revlon Mulberry.
Many small figures/
dotted as with stars/her nails -
as smooth as her cars.
seme on her nails
a dog collar round her neck
resourceful with cash
dotted as with stars/her nails -
as smooth as her cars.
seme on her nails
a dog collar round her neck
resourceful with cash
Cuckold and collared,She strained at her chains to join
Those just out of reach.
Her chains of quick thoughtsStruggle to give her freedom
Between ideas.
Her mop's rhythm strokesday's bondage into the kiss
of leather-fueled night.
A server to all
the hardscrabble days do fall
with sky supper clubs. (constellations, moon, clouds,etc.)
the hardscrabble days do fall
with sky supper clubs. (constellations, moon, clouds,etc.)
“. . . to that supper clubin the sky!” the priest exclaimed,
slamming Fred’s casket.
The sepulchral eh
of a bottomless casket
thwarts a green basket. :)
of a bottomless casket
thwarts a green basket. :)
Guy's last post (7254) reminds me of one that I wrote ages ago. It's part of a bigger poem, but I won't post the whole thing because it somehow still feels unfinished. Tangled strands of thought
Inside my head was chaos
The world crushing me
the collected works
were heavy upon my head-
his poems like lead
were heavy upon my head-
his poems like lead
the bunt of my thoughts
a thousand fish glimmering
beneath eagre suns
a thousand fish glimmering
beneath eagre suns
Ryan wrote: "Such beautiful imagery!"
Gratzi~
Gratzi~
The scales of the soul
each shaped like an oboe reed
reflect nature's songs.
each shaped like an oboe reed
reflect nature's songs.
Fishing with the dawnthe seagulls noisily cried
the lovers to wake
The maigres took flight
We abstained from food that night
poems satisfied
We abstained from food that night
poems satisfied
On the bench she satplaying scales of the soul, but
her playing was flat.
She was floundering,Fishing for her lost door key,
Sounding what matters.
Locked out, not knowingjust what to say, she foundered
in the key of A.
He has much to say But can't put thoughts into words
So remains silent.
What had his life beenbut the ragged sprocket holes
of a silent film?
M wrote: "What had his life beenbut the ragged sprocket holes
of a silent film?"
'Sprocket' is an excellent word!!
Thank you, Nicky!How her hands, her eyes,
beckoned in a dusk’s sixteen
bleared frames per second!
Eyes bleary with beerHe barely saw her bear bear
her to Barbary.
Her bloody Mary's.
a periodical chick
ada - green & red.
a periodical chick
ada - green & red.
This one is also part of a bigger poem. The only spirit
I had left was that within
The nearest bottle
The bottles finished
I was then left alone with
Emptiness and pain
Spirits drained away
Realities returning
Cycles repeating
Song of Cicada
I ran to the new species
of self, fictile.
I ran to the new species
of self, fictile.
Her fingers fashionedme of clay, engraved my mind
with glimmering dusk,
a flitting of bats
where a rotting boathouse sagged
among lily pads.
M wrote: "Her fingers fashioned
me of clay, engraved my mind
with glimmering dusk,
a flitting of bats
where a rotting boathouse sagged
among lily pads."
beautiful, M!~
me of clay, engraved my mind
with glimmering dusk,
a flitting of bats
where a rotting boathouse sagged
among lily pads."
beautiful, M!~
Her keel rests in mudAnd her deck beneath a sea
of lotus flowers.
Frogs tongue their repast
While croaking to each other
Of other yearnings.
What a compelling image in that first stanza!A murky languor
of afternoons slowly silts
the submerged cabin.
Guy wrote: "Her keel rests in mud
And her deck beneath a sea
of lotus flowers.
Frogs tongue their repast
While croaking to each other
Of other yearnings."
Neato, Guy!
And her deck beneath a sea
of lotus flowers.
Frogs tongue their repast
While croaking to each other
Of other yearnings."
Neato, Guy!
subsurface serene
I found the arm of the sea
keelhaul forgotten
I found the arm of the sea
keelhaul forgotten
My mask fogged. I gapedin surprise. She paused, long legged,
on the rotting stair,
fingers on the rail,
a strange glimmer in her eyes,
seaweed in her hair.
Thank you M and Cat. And great continuations. M for mermaid?!
pattens on her feet
a salient frieze above us
mermaids peering down
on me, a wreck's fabulist
telling tales of paradise
'mongst stilly pigeons
a salient frieze above us
mermaids peering down
on me, a wreck's fabulist
telling tales of paradise
'mongst stilly pigeons
Her elegant legsMoved her from my fogged vision
But not from my thoughts.
Where imagination rests
Is where I want to repose.
Her legs were like posts
and the tide did rise and sink
in saddle rhythms (found poem: dictionary)
with her sthenic gait.
Her legs were friction matches:
and turned the sea on...
(or fustigate oars) :
and the tide did rise and sink
in saddle rhythms (found poem: dictionary)
with her sthenic gait.
Her legs were friction matches:
and turned the sea on...
(or fustigate oars) :
Weekly Short Stories Contest and Company!
Books mentioned in this topic
Mugging the Muse (other topics)The Raj Quartet (other topics)
Marcovaldo (other topics)
Invisible Cities (other topics)
Confessions of a Taoist on Wall Street (other topics)
More...
Authors mentioned in this topic
David Payne (other topics)Thomas Merton (other topics)
Robert Payne (other topics)
Barbara Gowdy (other topics)
David K. Reynolds (other topics)
one step made his pencil slide
the paper had eyes. (the paper's leeway)
reaction time kites
the ravelment educed thought:
his hand produced ought .