Image

[Delta40]

She turned blue at the lips
strawberry gloss
I closed my eyes tight
and gasped
'Yes!' she cried

His legs remained crossed
He wrote

[PrinceMyshkin]

Ouch! Talk about being succinct! This will invite one to a variety of scenarios... It's marvellous that in so few words you've evoked such an appetite to know more.

[Delta40]

This is awful Prince.
My well has dried up.
My brook has babbled.
the flowing rainbow of creativity is absent
all that is left is this fast drying cement

And it crumbles pitifully before you.

[PrinceMyshkin]

This is awful Prince.
My well has dried up.
My brook has babbled.
the flowing rainbow of creativity is absent
all that is left is this fast drying cement

And it crumbles pitifully before you.



From this dried-up well
a different sort of water
may be drawn, the kind
that waters the water.

“Ye are the salt of the earth,”
according to Matthew 5:13,
“but if the salt have lost it's savour,
wherewith shall it be salted?
it is thenceforth good for nothing, but to be cast out,
and to be trodden under foot of men.”

But we may choose, instead,
to tread nothing underfoot
but to savour even
the salt-free stew...

[Delta40]

Thanks Prince

[qimissung]

Well, actually, Delta, I like BOTH your poems. The first one is very evocative, you have said a whole lot with just a few well-chosen words.

I like your second poem, too. What it is to write, and yet feel not that electric current that says "Yes, this is it..."

[~Sophia~]

Hi Delta. Both your short poems felt strangely personal. I can't claim to understand the first one but it virtually describes a painting I once did (it's on my profile page). The second of course - the muse - is familiar to us all.


all that is left is this fast drying cement

And it crumbles pitifully before you. and these lines very beautiful.

[firefangled]

Seeing the poetry (including Image) you have posted so far, I'm sure your well is not dry. I would not despair, Delta. It will rain soon, no doubt.