Thanks, thanks, thanks. I feel like Jim Neighbors, but I have to respond to all three descriptions!
Type: Posts; User: virtuoso; Keyword(s):
Thanks, thanks, thanks. I feel like Jim Neighbors, but I have to respond to all three descriptions!
You're welcome Manichean. Top of the morning to you wherever you might be residing today.
Requiem assigned
virgin, penitent minds
shackled to words
with rimming pictures
that shutter the lens
storybook clutter
now dead men talk
their calcified bones
dance on the canvas
suborned...
steel girders now abridged charter
scraps of mercantile pride subsumed
'neath the ashes of freedom's altar
veiled limbs dissected, liberated
manifests for future generations
residual smoke from...
Thanks for your kind words, Kiz!
Night scrawls the horizon
sentient swells secede
into the cavernous abyss
reams of black stenciled
over soft blue pastels
as the scorching eyes
of Zeus's brigand minister
swoon through a paler...
Brimming from Weston cusp
shady eyes, arched brows
ensconced in denim folds
whitewashed dreams
borne by a Wrangler ego
bourbon-laced strains
exuding from profane lips
buckskin tread tracing...
Thanks for your kind comment, Alfonso. Thanks for the post mortem analysis, Taylor (just kidding). It was but a brief moment in time, but it was a memorable one.
I think that this melancholy suit fits well. The rejoinder of an expressionless mime. His lack of feeling only spurs the ingratiated minds of the living to seek further solace. I like the Imploring...
I stumbled on a funeral march
whose circuit had been completed
an ebony line lay in repose
as a somber conclave hovered
'neath a starched canopy
Under the patchwork tent
time seemed to stand...
Wrapped in cellophane
the night to strain
its mellow chalice
brimmed with starry sighs
but a gaunt replica
of day gone by
haunting my every move
Only a distant shadow
parading 'neath its...
A sparkling twinkle
brims empty cavity
seamless grooves bridge
a parody of lines
beauty and frailty
skin and marrow
parabolas spindle
soft-spoken words
swindle the sighs
bleached-over veins
You know Dieter, I often try and make sense of the glamorous neon skies that cover the contaminated environs of the big city. Some say the sky embellishes the waste and contamination, while other...
This is a riveting poem, sir Delta. Why not much fanfare from the literary audience; I do not know. I do think that 'dresses' or 'coats' would sound better than 'suits'. Also, the subject-verb...
Are you gone again? Where and when will you resurface? Your wry and psychedelic spin on the literary scene will torment you until you relent and return with a guile that is unrelenting. They will...
It is as if everything is so tangible, but your state of mind has relegated them to passive objects in a stage play. I like the ironical twist of life drifting by as time recedes into the doldrums....
Yes, I think so. The sunset signifies that the sun's energy has been expended for the day, likewise the couple's days have culminated into an exhaustive and unfulfilling expenditure of time.
As the sun sets in your eyes
through the clouds
strains a filtered guise--
the scattered pixels from
the grainy carbon of our daliance
retreating from the horizon.
Left on the cerebral cusp...
The caretaker of my dreams:
girdled my hearth
with her warm blanket
over the years
covered my bough
with chiseled rings,
reams of indentured pulp-
fibrous stencils
etched with memories...
I do not fully subscribe to the Reader Response theory of poem interpretation (no authorial intent), but I think that anybody can generally interpret this poem, taking from it the neglect and...
The last stanza is referring to the mentality of the addicted person. Straddling the coattails not of a car, but his disinterred soul. The body is straddling his disinterred soul. Thanks for stopping...
Some interesting comments, indeed! Afriendinneed, there are two, possible interpretations to this poem. It could be talking about a normal person having a terrifying experience in the deep, dark...
A colorful description of the twilight milieu! It is as if you were standing on a distant cliff, nature's grand stage, watching the Day's parade drift past you. I enjoyed the pageantry!
Summer's creep has ended:
searching tendril tips
have reached their zenith
borne their dividend;
the repast enjoyed
Casting a tent
under the pale moon
my tawny fibers
her bleached strands
wrapped in a silver cocoon
flung into orbit
earth's baser elements
soaring in a comet's tail
my coarser part,
shards...