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Sorry for calling it a boat...
Sturdy by sea (in theory), this boat; while the ox claims the lands here and yonder
My wife says to me (who is now thirty-three), 'Without Botox, you'll love me no longer'
Stranded it seems, like a boat on the green; but in the city ..would we drown, I ponder?
Ideals lead astray, age gracefully each day, and of you the days too will grow fonder
Much like the boat, you understand or you don't; neglect won't grow old, only somber
writer's block
awaiting inspiration
like a well crafted canoe
aground on dried soil
displaced and empty
far from familiar waters
seasons change
rains come and rivers swell
the craft's unrealized potential
channeled to beckoning waters
while silent strangers
awaken on the horizon
Nearly an hour after midnight the 15th
of March here in Gold Country.
Good entries from all.
Congratulations to Melanie !
I was sold with S1.
Ta ! (short for tarradiddle),
tailor STATELY
Melanie congratulations!!
Thank you! I don't know what "S1" is but thank you.
I'll take just a little time to choose a picture that
I hope all will enjoy and post it asap.
Okay, here's your next picture.
Deadline is April 6...
http://i1280.photobucket.com/albums/...ps2a362485.jpg
Blue, black, yellow, white and brown
Paint the morning brick and stone:
Illusion for the brain to catch,
Fantasy the mind will match
To leave reality alone.
Ayo! Ya'll gots to roll up and light up as the angels drop dese quick slick rhymes on da pic above.
Seraphs Rap Music!
O! Cyanic dish O! transit mist
Guide my steed where Spirits dwell
Lend wholesomeness
to minds remiss
May Seraphs rap on Satan's knell
A puddle of sky lies spilled on the cobbles
Bird flying along in the cool spring breeze
It rained in the night and it seems part of the sky
Landed here near the sidewalk on 5th and 44th
I raise my eyes to the firmament above me
The ever changing drama of clouds and wind
Far off to the West, a lighting bolt flashes
Another piece of the sky now lies on the earth
Pendragon
(c) March 17, 2013
I edited my post #1286 and now the photo appears for all to see.
Thank you for your patience, I'm so impressed with the 3 entries above!
They're all terrific. This is great fun.
Vanishing Point
From afar
I watch my dreams
begin to erode,
the waters darken
steadily,
as the shadows
encroach,
but it is as if
I am no longer there,
I feel myself
beginning
to disappear,
vanishing
in the far distance,
like a bird,
a speck of dust,
swallowed by unknown horizons,
and these dreams
they become
no longer mine,
but instead
they wash away
where others
unknowing
walk across them
with a thousand feet,
but by then
I am not even
a memory.
Beware!
Step warily,
Step around,
Or be lost,
The door is left open,
Just a chink,
And not for long,
The granite setts have melted,
The infinite blue beckons,
A World beyond,
Beckoning.
Can you resist?
Street Find
Eight months and four days
In the cobblestone streets,
Awake every night till dawn,
Here I am walking in the sun.
I am looking for the old man
Who emptied all his pockets.
I am still waiting for the child
Who left me half of her lunch.
I trudge along the dampy street
Eyeing for a big coin that glints-
Four of it enough for hot coffee
And a big piece of buttered bun.
Listening to the mumbling flies,
I stand on the flooded sidewalk
And wonder why these clouds
When I have no will, no wings.
Less than a week left! Deadline is April 6. We have many incredible poems entered, and will be nearly impossible to pick a winner (eek!) but wanted to give everyone an opportunity to enter their poem inspired by the photo in post#1286 on page 86 of this thread. Have fun!
These poems are all well thought out and presented. As I write this critique, I still have no idea who will be the winner. This is the hardest thing I've done since childbirth ^__^ But I can only pick one in the end so here we go:
YesNo...I like how you're poem has envisioned the picture almost as a color saturated painting. You've cleverly added how that affects our minds which is intriguing.
Adolescent09...I love surprises and this poem is just that! The unexpected playfulness with the subject of good and evil was fun...especially the way you set it to a rap metric.
Pendragon...I really liked the 1st and last lines of imagery, "puddle of sky" and "piece of the sky lies on the earth" and the way you made the two lines bookends of your poem. It was also a refreshing perspective of looking at the sky and puddle as one instead of the more common perspective of reflection.
Dark Muse...The way you used the puddle to describe your dreams as they "wash away where others unknowingly walk across them with a thousand feet" is a beautiful use of imagery. I also liked the way you tied the bird, from the picture, into your poem, "I feel myself...vanishing...like a bird...swallowed by unknown horizons". Excellent. Your line breaks are consistently natural in their pauses and the enjambment of the lines had a nice flow as I read your poem.
Pendrelemick...My attention was captured with your first line and I thought "step around or be lost...into a world that beckons" was an intriguingly relevant perspective of the photo posted. Then the last line offering a challenge in question form drew me in.
Miyako73...Your poem tugged at my heartstrings....especially the last stanza. The poetic imagery of "listening to the mumbling flies", the "flooded sidewalk", "no will", and "no wings" presents such a strong image of desperation, feeling lost, alone, homeless, and wondering "why these clouds". I was very touched. Well penned.
So I must choose one, and that one would be Dark Muse.
Oh, thank you, I will get the next picture posted soon.
Ok here is your next image
http://www.stanwashburn.com/wp-conte...meer-16651.jpg
Nice picture Dark Muse :)
Slow Motion Stalker
The artist was a paparazzi
Caught this young lady off her guard
Her mouth frozen in a swear word
A forever captured startled look
Out on the town to have some fun
New red hat and deep blue dress
A high class lady in a restaurant
Fame causes stalking sketchbook style
Today the camera replaces brush strokes
Viral videos on the Internet
But the same old story still runs rampant
No private life for the famous and rich
Pendragon
(c) 4/10/2013
She wondered if I said something,
Something different than she knows
Before she left me, went away,
But there was nothing left to say
Except surprise before she goes.
yesterday
life's charm lost.
neither a feathery hat of flaming vermilion
nor a robe of sapphire and iced cerulean
could hide life's background tapestry
of faded gold, dark sienna, and raw umber.
Ever changing in shades of
gloom.
today
life out of focus
like the once defined lionhead finials
now blurred in the foreground; clouded with denial
losing strength, losing courage, losing foothold
as they bleed off the lower edge.
the girl's eyes lack definition; her gaze
obscured.
tomorrow
hope just out of view.
a nearby window's reflection of light
adds brilliance through prisms of crystal quartzite.
a bead of turquoise color glimmers in her eye
defining beauty; amplifying purity and energy.
turn. face the window. face the light.
hope.
Great entires so far. You have until May 5th if you have not already entred.
Quick science-inspired poem I wrote on the image above:
A Cell Committed Incest
by Adol09
Starless nights once rendezvoused
on a boulevard of bygone lane
Long had they been
intent to invent the maxims of motion
in the confines of monotony's frame,
They coaxed Iota to conceive atom,
atom committed incest,
compound was its son,
kin happened to encounter wroth,
to a ring of red it did succumb,
Its hammock became the cells we see
the blood that paints the plight to be,
the fate of me, of he of...she
A Bonny Lass Wi' a Long Long Face.
Aye, a bonnie lass wi a long long face who wore a braw red hat.
When I axed her for a Highland fling, she turned me down right flat,
Come away sez I we'll dance a reel, together you an' me,
Yer Mammy'll never need to know, yer Daddy's too drunk to see.
I will na' do what ye have asked, I canna dance wi' thee,
I wear mi' hat so bright an red so Rab'll notice me,
For he's the wan who has mi heart, 'an who I wait here for,
So ax another, there's mony a lass 'll spin yer roun' the floor.
Aye a bonnie lass in a braw red hat, but not the girl for me,
An' lang she'll wait for Rabbie Brown, for he's away to sea,
Aye, lang she'll wait for Rabbie Brown, for he's away to sea.
the girl in the hat
she took a pact
with herself and
that
to look the part
whenever a track
in the music class
plays up a blast
at long last fast
she became the
cast
the well known
lass
with the hat that
sat
happily to her past
her ways always
passed
Shall I Compare Thee to a Pearl Earring?
Honey, let me be frank with you
and no, that’s not my name.
It’ll take more than a scarlet canopy
If you expect to fan my flame.
You gaze at me with longing eyes
and bulbous glistening schnoz
trapped here in this sepia world
behind carved knurled paws.
How could daddy Vermeer produce such extremes
from the loins of his brush?
I speak about your sister of course,
now there’s a pretty little Thrush.
With that pearl earring and blue scarf
she’s as cute as a button.
Her nose fits well and not so oily
Yours is a greased shank of mutton!
Thank you everyong. This was quite a tough one.
Pendragon: I rather liked the concept of the artist as being paparazzi. An amusing poem which reelects some truth that in reality while our technology my change, in essence so much truly does ultimately remain the same.
Melanie: A beautifully written poem. I loved the way in which you incorporated the color imagery within. There are some wonderful and elegant lines here. I also particularly enjoyed the way in which we see this woman through these different phases of time.
Adolescent09: I really like the originality of this poem as well as the clever use of language. The first line was quite captivating and really drew me in to wanting to read more. This is quite a thought provoking piece.
prendrelemick: First of all much kudos for the classical language used. In addition to being quite skillful it added an extra charm to the poem. It told a fun, comical tale and rather reminded me of the Drinking Songs of which I tend to be a particular fan of.
cacian: Nice use of rhyme. I really like the portrait this poem paints. It creates its own picture with words. I particularly enjoyed the lines:
"in the music class
plays up a blast
at long last fast"
I really enjoy the image this conjures up. I also quite liked the ending of this poem.
Gilliatt Gurgle: This really made me feel quite sorry for the poor girl in the painting, but I did enjoy the cleverness of the poem ,as well as some of the sensual imagery. Amusing, and playful as well as skillfully written.
And the winner is........
YesNo: I really liked this one. It was simple, and to the point but it still managed to tell a story, and captured a certain mystery. I think it captures the image so well, as it does leave one wondering just what is she thinking about or what has she seen? There is something about the 2nd line that I find particularly charming and intriguing.
Thank you, Dark Muse!
My daughter showed me a painting by Salvador Dali that she was writing a report on and I figured one of his paintings or art objects might be a nice topic. Here's an image of a couch with Mae West in the background. The couch is supposed to be shaped like her lips. (Robert Vos photo)
http://www.guardian.co.uk/artanddesi.../salvador-dali
Deadline: May 31st
Dark Muse thank you and congratulations to you YesNo nice piece indeed :)
Congrats. Great as usual, YesNo. It goes without saying that I truly appreciate your work. :)
I'll whip up something on this art piece in a few days :)
Whoops! Looks like I lied :D
The A.R.T(Audacity Rivals Tepidity) of Vision
Adol09
Deep in the meadows of a forgotten land
Two veins fed a creed in the heart of man
That beat with the birth of a bout with belief
Stoking the flames on a prairie of relief
Depression waged war, intent to ignore reason
Audacity retaliated, for fear was true treason
Thus, one built a fort on the quicksands of doubt
The other built a fort with the bricks of just clout
Each fought for a view with the figment of dreams
The tools of dissent fail to perish, it seems.
Mae in May
She always said "Come up and see me sometime!"
Her voice sultry and sexy, her lips inviting
She captured men with her eyelids
Her Siren call could make men tremble
Hot and Bothered were her loyal servants
Men melted like tallow candles before her perfumed breath
It was the lips that drew men first
And her lips were Dali's sofa of love
Where one could lie in her white soft arms
And vanish in a dream within a dream
(C) 5/9/2013
Pendragon
The Lips of Mae
Lips
Lushly,
Plumped,
Puckerous,
Voluptuous,
Plumpalicious,
Voliplumptious,
Labialiciously,
Volulipness
Puckeriplump
Plumpavolupty,
Luxlylabialnes
Plumplylushe
lushalicious
Lippylabial
Lipolabia.
Bouche
Sofa.
She With the Red Lips
Such plush red lips
which I could sink down into,
dreaming Gatsby dreams,
of days long past,
and things forever lost,
my glammer goddess
watches over me from behind
the big screen,
while she dances between
the shades of truth and lies,
French perfume fills the air,
and I recall the whiteness
of fingers holding long, long cigarettes.
we all lived to die, and died to live,
with no thoughts for far away tomorrows.
Watch'm goats'n floowersoosoon
Theydereat toory daysies'an'moonit
Or'mjamp yarder braniacar
nstompyafoonish
I said I had to itch and she said, "Stop stroking your stick. You're being too phallic"
This was fantastic. I'm not sure if you intended this, but for me, the pictorial form can be viewed in three ways: with the lips mirroring the viewer; with the lips facing to the right at a 90º angle to the viewer; and as the tip of Cupid's arrow.Quote:
Originally Posted by prendrelemick
Thanks.
Only the lip shape was intentional, the rest is coincidence. The words are supposed to make your lips pucker and smack as you say them
.
Elegy to the West (A Dali With Ruby Lips)
The boys were lured west by Greeley’s refrain,
chasing the swaggered scent of her foxtail train.
Many a mate held fast to her inflated charms,
longing to press plush lips, caress porcelain arms.
Dali’s stage held sway to lovers flirtive sport
parried with double entendre, her sultry retort.
Suitors climb crimson peaks to kiss the western sky
and glimpse the Pre-Code sun as she closes her eye.
Receding beams yield to darkening vaudeville days.
Silver screen’s now tarnished by a surrealist craze.
Brightest stars are cast along Hollywood and Vine.
The magnitude of hers will never decline.
A Salvador Dali Conversation
"Mae" I
have this seat?
under your
sultry wink?
On velvet sofa lips
of hot-seated attitude?
Your fans cooed
as prudes eschewed
We share a
commonality
your
unconventional
morality
and my
unconventional
art