Flashback
Flashes
like floods
remembered blood
glimpsed from the darkness
trembling with fear
helpless
behind the closet door
screams still
echo within
dreams.
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Flashback
Flashes
like floods
remembered blood
glimpsed from the darkness
trembling with fear
helpless
behind the closet door
screams still
echo within
dreams.
pebble black eyes
pearl teeth
blood
I first met
death
in a gopher trap
Thanks for the quick jump guys! :D
Deadline is. . . .say, March 15?
nipple heavy
mother's mammary
muscle heaving
father's flung flight
I've only had one home
It's where all my memories lie
The house fell down in a flood
I was just 15
That white clapboard house on Maple Street
Haunts me in my dreams
A childhood full of innocence
Every golden memory
Pendragon
Here's my minimalist song and dance.
The Early Travels of Young Man
Rosetta Stone
Sometimes Spanish home
Choose your own
Adventure prone
Option one, option two
It doesn't matter what I do.
alfalfa
in a field
half a snake
protrudes
from one bale
in the row
of dew scented
pillows of hay
One Time -
Something happened.
Regret.
The girl in que in front of me
standing beneath the 6th Station of the Cross
hands folded in prayer,
eyes locked shut with inward memory
waiting for the confessional door to open
was wearing a pink frizzled blouse
with her skinny arms bare.
When the door openned,
she turned, the chestnut of her eyes met mine,
the gold of the crucifix across her chest
glowed in the candle light
and she entered.
I was eight years old too,
and I being next
rushed in mind and heart
to roll out my list of sins.
The contest is now closed.
I'll post results very soon. Probably this evening.
:blush: Thanks.
I've been away for awhile, but I hope I can join the next.
Sorry guys, I'm getting to it. There's just a bunch of crap going on right now and I'm trying to find the time.
I was wondering what happened. :lol:Quote:
Originally Posted by DanielBenoit
Crap like in baby crap? :)Quote:
Originally Posted by DanielBenoit
Hey everybody, I'm exhausted and am unable to think (just returned from a family party). I would like to say that I enjoyed everyone's poems, but the one that I liked the most was Virgils for its personal subtly and skill in understatment.
So Virgil it's your turn :D
Yay! Thanks Daniel.Quote:
Originally Posted by DanielBenoit
Let's see, how about for a subject: musical memory.
Congratulations, Virgil. I liked yours very much!
Whoa, I clicked this link on a whim, and saw the stuff you all just did, and then Virgil's new idea. And then decided to try it out:
Juke Box Fury
Speakers in the window
Letting the neighborhood know
The boy over there and his friends
Can lay claim to all hours before dawn.
The small yard like a field
Girls far off, old friendship sealed
and Rickie Lee Jones' lyrics
Teach of women to schoolboys on the lawn.
Good job Virgil, all the poems were quite good I thought.
First of June
Sitting on wooden floorboards
Summer awakening
To the sweet sounds of vinyl records
You and me
We take a stroll through Abbey Road
We hold hands and embrace summertime
Within the winds of rock n' roll
Much thanks to DanielB for editing:)
Am I also supposed to have a deadline? Let's make it April 15th.
I don't often look in on this thread so I missed this glorious poem! How magnificently you weave together the quotidian, the sacred and the inchoate sexual.Quote:
Originally Posted by Virgil
is like one of those moments in a chaste Victorian novel when one suspects that something erotic is about to take place - or is it one's concupiscent imagination?Quote:
the chestnut of her eyes met mine,
the gold of the crucifix across her chest
glowed in the candle light
and she entered.
Harp Strings
My bones
~vibrate~
like the
harp strings
beneath your
fingers stroke.
Is it:
my soul
-or-
my body
you play?
with those
sweet
melodies
that still
linger
in my
dreams....
:lol: Thanks. Actually I think I learned this from you and your poems.Quote:
Originally Posted by PrinceMyshkin
The Guitar Teacher
He taught me to play
When I was a boy
I didn't know many chords
But he said I was ready
Sink or swim methods
Taught me all I know
Playing by ear
To the beat of my own drummer
Now he's old and feeble
His hair almost gone
But I feel his presence
Each time I play guitar
Pendragon
thick spicy Scilian pizza
a nun hands me a Scilian coin and
God's hand reaches out to
touch my fingers;
clots of people stroll through the night
their nightengale voices raised in song
a magnificent robust chicken
and wine, and bullets in the night;
the maze of streets do
not cure my wanderlust
and on every street corner
this song with a sweet ache
wanders like a stag into
the forest, like a fawn into my heart
Guantanamera
guajira, Guantanamera
Qimissung
When I First Heard the Blues
a man on Bourbon St.
sweating, plays guitar,
an old Gibson plugged
into a Marshall amp
glass slide on frets
and turned up so loud
I thought we would all
vibrate off the ground
descant
plastic descant
splashed in piss of disinfectant
New Dance
There's a fast parade of colours,
we struggle to find a groove.
So a change forms in the rhythm,
beginning to bust a move.
A sea of silhouettes,
as people move their feet.
Now we'll spend the night dancing,
to this new-found, funky beat.
Clutching the phrase
Monk left out for me
I slip into dreams,
Misterioso
Without further ado, while all the entries were really good (there is something to a short minimalist poem that brings out the best in everyone) I will award the winning poem to Billl.
What I was looking for is for the poem to be suggestive of possibilities unmentioned. I think that's what separated Billl's poem a tad from the rest.Quote:
Originally Posted by billl
Billl, you can pick the next subject. :)
YEAH! I stumbled upon these contests, then had some fun searching my memories for musical moments that had some kind of 'thing' happening--and then hammered some sudden words into shape. Rare poem for me these days, so quite fortunate to be a winner. Thanks, Virgil, the check is in the mail.
Next topic: PARTNERS
Deadline: May 1st, (a Saturday), at noon.
Two to Tango
Limbs entangled
rhythm flows
move
counter-move
come hither-not
games
gliding across
the floor.
Stolen
touches
to the music's
beat
step
step
turn
step
Together
pulled-apart
friction
created.
Flashing eyes
flashing smiles
flashing gold
caught in lamplight
colors twirl
and blur.
Two souls
two bodies
moving
as one
in cat
and mouse
flirtation.
Whoa! Definitely meant to be read ALOUD, Dark Muse. Lots we can do reading that one...
Wow. Suggestive writing at its best - let the reader's imagination flux and flow.
This is one I wrote long ago in my monochrome youth but perhaps it fits the bill :
GADGET
My hand can cover you (so);
the little hair, warm,
scented like lips.
My fingers close, gently,
bend to touch your damp flesh –
the smooth hollowed belly above,
my grip slowly caressing,
untethering your passion,
the hand-shake.
Wow, again--even the reason for the edit simmers.
Together we move
As the music flows
I want to go wherever
Your body goes
Watching you shine
Dance after dance
Hearts grow closer
To true romance
Making a moment
Meant for just me and you
I'll always be saving
The last dance for you
Pendragon
Congrats billl, good job.
All the entries were excellent.
WE
We're as near
as taters in their bags
or elbows thrown
by Shakespeare's hags
Side by side
we make our stand
as close as oceans
come to land
And as the flower
and the bee
without you
there is no me
Not sure if I'll be around at the deadline, but here's my entry.
Quote:
Partner
Under the rising morning
after a night of whistling mortar shells
and the sough scramble of rodents
in the hedges
having caught a hugger-mugger
doze with the butt of the M4
cinched into my underarm
Charlie, unshaven, droopy eyed
leaning like a pelican
tossed me a matutinal MRE
and laughed.
I don't know how to delete this, but I posted a poem in the wrong thread. Sorry! Great poems, btw. :)