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Week 321 (July 26-August 2). Poems. Topic: Muscle Memory
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TITLE: Hollow Woodsman
AUTHOR: T. Kozumplik
HOLLOW WOODSMAN
I walk through the woods along a path we made
Life has fallen from the trees
My steps and breath too small to pierce winter's coma
The only thing that carries me along is the stream
I split the dead
Too tired to live for a hundred years
Or be laid low by the ravishing wind
My axe is hollow and blind
My hands cracked and cut
I am building muscles and flesh
To take up the space my spirit has left
You are out of range
Smoke in the heavens, lost in clouds
Only with a rainbow could I reach your heart
So many lost arrows
Now you are gone
The weight of life has made the world flat
An empty vase
The flowers stolen
Growth has become stone
I wish the long horizon would smile
A half moon to sail into eternity
Powered by the laughter of dogs
-T. Kozumplik

Poet : Edward Davies
Remembering
The things he hasn’t done for many years
Dissembling
To victims who plead as they shed their tears
They’re trembling
As he chops up the product of his kills
Dismembering
A killer can’t forget their unique skills

by Sarah Russell
I remember this. I was here
last time you cried and blamed
yourself for breaking me.
Again.
I thought you'd learned
to distrust illusive words,
caresses.
It's OK.
I'll mark time 'til you decide
to try once more. I guess
there's no point asking you
to be careful. The brain
doesn't listen to me.

If only my muscles were an elephant...
They would never forget.
Throughout the years so celebrant,
Imbued with wine so delicate...
Life coursed through these veins.
Only to now stagger and stumble along,
As a drunken man in stupor's reigns.
Time taken away what once was so strong,

Po
On any given day, I can
place a pencil between three
of the fingers on my left hand
and, without looking, write
my own name in a straight line.
With my right?
A meaningless squiggle,
falling past printed lines.
My left writes, and my right is left.
And with both?
I sit here on this threadbare couch, before this screen,
my fingers remembering what I've blocked out...
Names and so much more.

By: Gretchen Guerrettaz
Feedback is needed and welcomed!
Trapped inside my head,
Muscle memory gone,
I stare at the ceiling all day long.
Rolling my eyes,
my family's constant tears,
They do nothing to ease my fears.
I can't speak, or walk
Hell I can't even talk!
I'm dying slowly,
Pronounced brain dead,
Got two choices, wish I chose the instead.

Great job with this though, I really enjoyed it.

Title: My Heart Remembers
By: C P Cabaniss
My fingers remember
being held in your hand
My face remembers
your gentle caress
The feel of your skin
on my lips
My heart remembers
being in love
Racing in my chest
with one glimpse
of your face
My heart remembers
all of the pain
When they said
you would never
come home again
My body remembers
the wracking sobs
When they laid you
in the ground
Time may move on
memory erase your face
But my heart remembers
the love and the pain
Please post directly into the topic and not a link. Please don’t use a poem previously used in this group. Only one submission per person is allowed.
Your poem can be of any length!
This week’s topic is: Muscle Memory
The rules are pretty loose. You could write a poem about anything that has to do with the subject/photo but it must relate to the topic somehow.
Have fun!