Reactivated

The Horrible Forest

Reactivated

i

children hang along a tree-lined street.
faint footsteps on pine needles.
thumps, over stumps, so low —
bleakly, sometimes faintly.
shuffles repeat. groans. more suffering.

the children swing deeply into the branches.
time to hide. quick — to a place without life.
the beast of the earth was released.
a time of darkness befalls the community.

ii

the town is now a forest.
communion has been rare.
at the popular lake shore,
picnics no longer.

mourning sounds permeate the wind.
familiar voices; it is a requiem.
for one hundred years,
they have loved and shared
from afar, in fright.

now, their cocked hats hide their eyes.
lingering chaos severed many ties,
for words could not unravel paranoid lies.
voices of neighbors, no longer recognized.
there’s a pain in their middles —
famished? hollow?
no, just empty.

iii

after each  is renamed,
no more elemental silence.
sagging, swollen monotony
replaced by a dignified pattern of sound.
roots melted, beneficence revived.
developed from dirt, but not dirty —
they are crystals waiting to be polished.

far-off fringe of dawn floods in unfixed flashes.
some long to lock limbs.
others require un-regimented rearrangements.
autonomous potential that was buried away,
once more shall breed accomplishment.

they roll and crawl forward and
once more, become capable of
merriment, humanity and fellowship:
reawakening civilization.

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Written for:

POETICS: THE ANECDOTE

Image credits: The Horrible Forest by *pesare on deviantart

Quickening of The Chakras

Venus de Milo with Drawers – Salvador Dali, 1936

Dirt removed from body,
in bathing relaxation.
You squeeze out thoughts
with unseen hands.

Light emanates from stomach;
it centers from the groin,
it’s grounded from the toes,
along the spine and running.
Thickness not applicable.
All colors of the rainbow are appropriate.
Shape is satisfying as it
forms in spherical splendor.

It’s a thing of tears.
Heart sounds seem like waves.
It’s a quickening, whence
cells echo in the body,
calmness of a primitive universe.

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Written for:

Magpie Tales – Mag 157

Also posted on:

OpenLinkNight ~ Week 85

Poetry Pantry #145

kooky kinesthetics

Key-Lime Kayak

Killer Knife-Throw

kooky kinesthetics

kooky kinesthtics

knobbly knees
kelly-green kidneys
kabalistic kegels

kincky kisses

killer knife-throws
key-lime kayaks
kitchsy kite-flying

korean kickball
kicking karate
kowtowing kung-fu

klutzy kinetics

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Written for:

The Poet’s Toolbox

Image credits: Flip Key vacations and y9y9games

prima donna cat fight

Cat Fight by Lutherniel

prima donna cat fight

they said only five miles.
(more like five hundred).
can’t stop at a decent hotel;
obession kept us going.

the sun lulled us from zombieness.
green tea in a water bottle;
oxiginated, ion free, stubborn sips
as we mono-maniacally trudge forward.

the hub of a prima donna cat fight —
she just could let go.
necklace rips off: splits the gold.
girls refrain from idle speech.

two frames of the second half
at the reunion, all laugh —
reminder of a little circle
where special relativity rules.

i shake off recollection;
neither shark nor snake repellent
keeps anyone from getting my loot.
life’s a test (or a punishment).

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Written for:

Poetics– The Art of Letting Go

Also posted on:

P is for PARDON MY PLANET

Photo credit:  deviant art

for the thousandth time

Friendship by rebela-wanted

for the thousandth time

for the thousandth time
you burst in without knocking
(it’s permanently open to you.)
I sniff the spirit
that signals your presence
(an experience one never forgets.)

who else could mitigate?
conterminous affairs, alleviated;
exposed to your core, renovated.
stronger, we camouflage indifferences,
and prevent piercing yelps
from penetrating some phony smile.

long conversations,
sometimes called debates
(yelling like fireworks.)
from outside, a facade —
they might call it abuse
(it’s a form of obedient respect.)

together we start a candy bar.
sobriety, in our minds.
no need for questions
to answers well known.
dispensing honor. beaming pride —
behind childish laughter.

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Written for:

Mining the Memory–dVerse Poets Meeting the Bar

Also Posted on:

Verse First ~ Committed

Also posted on:

FLY IN

Also posted on:

Photo credit:  deviant art

Hades’ Gate

Hades’ Gate

1000 shards of Shadows
always slippery in thought.
Bohemian creativity hidden in
conscious state of sleepwalking.

Omnipotent matter
zooms through a gate of darkness.
Irresistible forces hand the world ideals
fashioned from troublesome trances.

Turbulently trounced trolls
traipse into the sun.
A silhouette reflects
off the stratosphere:
the Sun is wrong,
the Sun is right overhead
where the sterile Corona
stops a nightmare on the rise.

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Written for:

The Poetics of Groundhog Day – Bright Shadow

Also Posted on:

Poetry Pantry #135

Photo credit:  Dark Wallpapers

Epideictic Rhetoric

Central Library, Manchester, U.K., by Robin Gosnall

(students and their study habits)

palate superstructure of the day;
vehicle of the visitors;
a gallery to favor Aeneas,
to let Diana eat well,
often to let Bacchus drink.

auricular masses
chewed moral and mental comparisons.
ballistic bedroom crowds
reiterated unrepeatable profanity.

who jumped off the roof
for the sake of
three tragedies,
one satire, five dramas,
and three comedic theatrical events?

eschew the epideictic rhetoric.
ignore the melodies of the epifonèma.
let them speak euphemisms silently
as we give them time to catch up and read.

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Written for:

Magpie Tales – Mag 154

Also posted on:

OpenLinkNight ~ Week 82

Also posted on:

Introducing E

Bichon Frise

Parko – My adorable Bichon Frise

Bichon Frise

bichon frise
je vous enchante
fourrure comme soufflée
tu un caricaturée
avec coulour de crème brûlée
toujours dance un pas de bourrée
jamais cajolée —
manger la malbouffe doublée
constante amusée
un chien dévouée
court essoufflée
c’est dedication maintenant cessée

English Translation

bichon frise
I am delighted to meet you
fur blown like a soufflée
you’re a caricature
couloured like crème brûlée
always dancing a pas de bourrée
never cajoled to
eating a double portion of junk food
constantly amused
devoted dog
short of breath
dedication is now discontinued

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(and you can make fun of my french pronunciation)

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Written for:

Poetics: Foreign Tongues

Also posted on:

B is for Brevity

Also posted on:

Photo credit:  Bat-Ami Gordin  © 2012 all rights reserved, credit if you use it, please.

Parko rescued by and adopted from Bichons and Buddies

Parko groomed by Stacy

APRICOT

APRICOT

Thick as soup; viscous as gravy
APRICOT.

Hard bites break bonds
of superficial corps.

Soft fuzz tormenting expressions
osculations.

Languishment becomes yearning
APRICOT.

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Written for:

The Medium is the Message–dVerse Meeting the Bar

also posted on:

Also posted on:

A is for Apple

Image credit:  Bit Size Wellness

abstract homo sapiens

Summer Night Albert Bloch 1913

abstract “homo sapiens,”
weather-beaten, ice-burned,
exhausted warlords,
hands of pure water.

sunk in an alternate world
each reacts differently:
neurasthenia, irritation,
anger, rage;
paralyzing stagnant anemia.

beyond excitation they
gather with beaded moonbeams,
encrusted with precious stones,
filled with similarly colored fluids.

into the eyes of shameful friends,
sharing bondage, telling tales.
blueberry juice on their skin.
isolated from autumnal craftsmen —
an out-of-society culture.

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Written for:

Magpie Tales – Mag 133

Also posted on:

The letter “H ” for ‘olly ‘ock

Image credit:  Art Experts Inc.