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Quote:
Originally Posted by Pendragon
Nice:)
- lo
- coming
- going
- talking rocking
- eating drinking
- waking sleeping
- jogging strolling
- sitting standing
- lying flying
- crying smiling
- loving hating
- reading writing
- washing cleaning
- riding driving
- fanning manning
- tick tick tick tick
- keeps the clock
- moving
- Life comes to
- an end.
Cirrus
The blue palette’s been swirled
with delicate wisps
as if brushed by a feather
or swished with white
paint by a mare’s tail,
not like the comically bizarre
mackerels, mottled like the back
of a high-flying fish –
nor menacing
like the bullying and brackish
bulky cumulonimbus:
those are some serious clouds.
Aunt Shecky
All rights reserved.
Quote:
Originally Posted by AuntShecky
lovely poem:)
Ah, you don't seem to like fish, the origin of all species on earth !
I love fish! Especially with a little tartar sauce. No, I kid, I kid.
Cirrocumulus clouds actuallyhave the nickname "mackerels" because the sky does look like the scales on the back of the big fish with that name.
By the bye, there is also a type of cloud called "lenticular," very even-ly shaped, like a lens -- or a flying saucer!
oh, I see. Thanks for your elaboration on types of clouds.(nice education!)lolQuote:
Originally Posted by AuntShecky
Your poem is One Thought so beautifully expressed with well chosen words and flow.
keepup the good work!
Silence
Glorious and Terrifying
I want to stand in
front of you in
Silence
Thank you for your kind response, MazHur.
you are welcome.
This is a parody of symphony's signature:
a word
becomes a world
a dot
a donut
Aunt Sheky, the "s(h)" (air sounds) you carry throughout this is masterful. I liked it very much.Quote:
Originally Posted by AuntShecky
Thank you, dear Firefangled.
"Who are a little wise the best fools be."
--John Donne
Let's see now, you've got your
stupid fools, and your damned
fools, and a delicious dessert
called a raspberry fool,
and lest we forget, of course,
there's no fool like an old fool --
But never in the world's history
has there ever been such
a damned stupid old fool like
me.
Dark walls
Empty rooms
Lights off
Misery looms.
Ah, Loneliness---
Nice!
- - - - -
Darkening Days
The child sleeps too soon
and awakens too soon.
The night sky hides the moon,
else we could embrace the moon.
The fuel we’re not supposed to burn
at both ends of day, we burn, we burn.
Oh that the sun would lengthen the day
that heaven would return us another day:
pray.
Pray.
- - - - -
The dog licked his bowl as clean as he could
a morsel of meat escaping his tongue
frustrated his sense of a job well done...
I've received an email containing the following request for very small poems:
VERY SMALL POEMS WANTED
Since its first issue in 1972, Clown War and its successor CLWN WR have frequently
published very small poems in both regular and special small poem issues. Among the
writers who have contributed small poems to Clown War/CLWN WR are Cid Corman, Ted
Berrigan, F.A. Nettelbeck, Ray DiPalma, Bruce Andrews, Lyn Hejinian, Eileen Myles, Bob
Holman, Keith Abbott, Dave Morice, Joel Dailey, Nathan Whiting, Brian McInerney, Charles
Bernstein, Alex Caldiero and many others. We have also published very small visual poems
by David Cole, John M. Bennett, Scott Helmes, M. Kasper, Hannah Weiner, Roy Arenella and
others.
After a long hibernation CLWN WR is once again starting a series of special issues devoted
to the very small poem in all of its manifestations. We invite small poems no larger than
50 words (but prefer works much smaller) that will fit comfortably on a 5 ½ by 4 ¼ inch
page. We also invite visual poems no larger than 3 by 4 inches actual size. We are
particularly interested in the experimental, the minimal, and the highly compressed, in
prose poems, and in works that touch the sense of wonder. We have little interest in haiku.
Pieces will be judged both on their own merit, and on their ability to coexist with the other
small poems with which they will be sharing space.
Issues will be fairly ephemeral, usually 32-48 pages, with a press run of around 200
copies. CLWN WR will not be sold, but will be distributed to a select list of poets, artists,
editors and others who I want to receive it. Each contributor will be given several copies of
the issue in which they appear. In order to reach more readers current issues will also be
archived on the CLWN WR web-site which is currently being built.
Please send works (with SASE) to:
Bob Heman, ed.
CLWN WR
P.O. Box 2165
Church St. Station
New York, NY 10008-2165
USA
E-mail submissions will not be considered (except from those who live outside the United
States), but queries, comments, etc. can be sent to me at: editor@clwnwr. org
Please spread the word.
http://www.clwnwr.org/SubmissionGu ide.htm
Why are you here?
Missed the bus.
You?
Car broke down.
Think the train will be on time?
Usually is.
Harris.
Jackson.
Going to work?
Dropping off a manuscript. You?
Lawyer. Anders, Richards, and Jackson.
Well, good luck.
Pendragon
© 11/10/07
nice one, Pen. i "hear" that as conversation with a beat, wow.
put my piece in a separate thread, don't mind me.
It's true, that's a really great one, Pen.
Totally refreshing....loved it! :)Quote:
Originally Posted by blp
LOL blp, didnt notice this before. How could i miss something that looks so familiar?! :p Your poem's certainly more yum than mine! :lol:Quote:
Originally Posted by blp
And hey! why cant a word be a walnut?! :brow:
Or a walnut whip. ;)
Glad you liked it kiz paws...and that it gave you a laugh, symphony.
Tiny footsteps
pitter,patter
'cross the floor
beat the drum
that sets the toon
of childhood
haymaking and fishing.
big barrels out on the bogs
a young couple to leave
New England with
scarfs over their faces,
ripe for innuendo
A.D. - totally sweet, I can picture that little one now. :)Quote:
Originally Posted by AdoreroDio
Jon, your endings are always so powerful. Loved it. :)Quote:
Originally Posted by jon1jt
Gossip
“Got it from a good source, mind you.
“And it’s to go no further, you understand?”
“What?”
“The dirt on Sally?”
“Well, you see he said that she said that they said—
“so it must be true don’t you think?”
“Oh, get real, girlfriend!”
“Last weekend?”
“Oh she told him, and he told them,
“and they told grandma, and of course she told us!”
“How true!”
“It’s that old bat across the hall ringing for the line again!
“Some people! Tongue tied in the middle and wags at both ends!
“I hate people who can’t keep their mouth shut for five minutes!
“Don’t you?”
Dale Harris
© 3/14/96
Inspired by the famous Norman Rockwell painting…
Loved your poem, Pen. How you have captured the sentiment perfectly. :thumbs_up
pen, your dialogue is electric.
The man drew up his eyes, considers
tangled down bodies in shadowed sheets,
elegant frames, asleep,
the way light he made to fall across
her neck,
she slept. Left her a note in morning:
"My watery self-portrait love, Sleep.
---Vincent Desiderio"
Jon, you must have gone to an exhibition (lucky you!!), but even no, your poem has captured the visual beautifully. Thanks for the tribute to Vincent! :thumbs_up
yes! and i actually learned something about stretching light oil painting!
he's amazing isn't he?!?!! that Sleep portrait...ahh!
SHOUT!
Jump for joy!
Run!
Sing!
Do!
If you don't
what moment
have you wasted
what second
have you spent
that you could have
spent dancing
and singing
and leaping
LIVING!
That voice
is calling you
answer it!
Be still no longer!
Live!
Laugh!
Be free!
For we were created
for freedom
Use it!
Art can come to life in more than painting, I think you just proved, Jon! Thanks for the comments on my dialogue poems. Coming from a poet of your skill that's ambrosia! I really never thought anyone would like them...Quote:
Originally Posted by jon1jt
http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l1.../MightWork.gif
Click,click,click
Life begins
tap,tap,tap
an enemy made
click,clack,click
climax begins
tap,tap,tap
A life ends
Click! Ding!
A story is written
Love? It is the flavour
of the millennium, it is the scent
of someone far away and yet
surrounding me,
in my nostrils,
in my heart.
On my way
I met someone.
Don't recall who
Just now.
Taught me everything
I know about
Life in
General.
Maybe I should have
Paid more attention,
Little details
Can get one lost.
Flowers that bloom
In early Spring
Often slain
By a Killing Frost...
Pendragon
© 11/19/07
Very nice, Pen, I read your poem more than three times, because it really spoke to me. Thanks. :)
Yes, again, I like it too. Not sure about 'can get one lost' though. Shouldn't that just be 'can get lost'?
No.Quote:
Originally Posted by blp
Have to read it in with the rest:
Maybe I should have
Paid more attention,
Little details
Can get one lost.
Person gets lost, not the details...
get up,
close the door,
shut the windows,
put on fur coat,
kindle fire,
relax.
My sixth sense
tells me
a blizzard
is brewing
outside.