radical revolutionaries

Up close - Lettering At Stock Exchange on Wall Street / New York City

radicals and revolutionaries

poison
prison
persistent silence
honored by empty sounds

brutal responsibility
while guarding inncoence:
varying degrees
of untold guilt

violent rhetoric
booms as tryranny continues

bloodshed liberates
but does not placate
radicals and
revolutionaries

*********************

Written for:

Vice/Versa – Midnight Snack Weekly Prompt #5

For which one had to Write poetry or prose using all four words: Sound/Silence & Guilt /Innocence

Also posted on:   wordless wednesday buildings with character

Photo Credit: Roni Weiss Occupy Wall Street – Washington Square Park – October 8, 2011

Fruit Leather

Fruit Leather

orifices nibble

jaw nodes masticate

succulence expels

and froths it up

as ambrosic juices drench

complex mystification

conforming structurally

onto lips

buoyantly

lick, twist, braid and weave

tongue

around fruity moist

leather candy

**************************

Posted for Wordsmith Wednesday – Taste

Also Posted on:

Poetics – Undercurrents

Phtoto credit Simply Recipes How To Make Fruit Leather

when men are like children

Annotation:

This time, I will start with the annotation.

This piece was written for Wordsmith Wednesday – Snooping  . Victoria essentially asked, “Have you written any short stories or poems that were inspired as a result of listening to conversations in public places?”

I was at an office today where two women at the reception desk were talking. One had a packet in her hand containing a set school portraits. However, the subject of the portraits was not a child. It was her husband, who is a school teacher. Included in the packed was a Child ID card, in case he went missing. The two women were laughing and making fun of the whole concept of a grown man in a child-portrait framework. The conversation of course flowed to the fact that men act like children, so the wife needed to keep this missing child card, of her husband, in case he ever got lost.

So, of course, I wrote a men are like children themed poem.

**************

Adding this after the fact, due to someone saying that the poem is not very flattering to men:

I am writing this in the voice of the women who are making fun of the husband. I do not think all men are children.  Some men are tooooo serious. Some men are toooo power hungry. Some men are there for you, and are loving and caring. I’ve singled out a situation about a man I never met, who might not even be childish, based on a conversation. Why? Because the prompt here is about snooping, and I found the conversation interesting and animated. For all I know, the women talking may not think this man is childish, just went in that direction because they found it funny to see the man’s picture on a “missing child” ID  card.

Notice that I did not call the poem “all men are like children.” I called it “when men are like children.”

(you know it all)

absorbed in avocation;
wide, shallow geek in many ways.
omnivorously eating candy-apples
like a loving super-horse.

living in the two-dimensional.
whining when he doesn’t get his way.
perpetual adolescence, shallow and deeper;
always in an problematic place.

stomping, throwing, fighting and whining.
he does it on a fishing boat.
mirrors of his own emotions ―
like sipping weak tea, just for fun;

victorious warrior one minute.
directionally challenged for hours.
gripping obsessions. distracted.
never losing his spontaneous heart.

*************

Also posted in Theme Thursday -October-13-2011-fish.html

Also post on:

dversepoets

poetics-falling-into-magic-potion-were-going-comic