A brilliant poem by Delta40
Well, I'm a fan of Deltasquen poetry. This is one of my favorites. I won't say one of her best because the lady seldom writes anything below that level. With many thanks to dear Delta. :)
Early Map Maker
An old man sat on the shore
and wondered,
What is this world
I journey through?
Rats can tread in water
for three days and nights
fish die from seasickness
and hurricanes last for ten moons.
He etched the constant
full horizon of his thoughts
onto a rocky cave wall
without the art of written word.
Long after he was swept away,
all that was left
of his map of the world
was an oblique perspective
of the village in which he had lived.
"A Well is Just a Hole" by firefangled
A Well is Just a Hole by firefangled
Walking in the rain some say
it is safe to cry,
but this is not true for me,
just as drinking whiskey
does not make it easy
to give up smoking.
I suppose if my hamburger
groaned between my teeth,
I would stop to see
what was happening,
look for eyes and a mouth
and finding none, continue
tearing at the processed shoulder
and chew, until it was mush,
not the time to go vegetarian
with the lettuce and tomato
there cheering you on.
And here is the recruiter,
with his gamer attitude,
showing how you can use your skills
from Halo to avert a clash
of satellites or guide Drones
out to find the flowers,
the desert wedding planned for months
near great-great-grandmother’s well,
near the compound closed on weekends.
Ode to my balls ( Delta's request) By Jerrybaldy
My balls are tucked in tight
To this season's Calvin kleins'.
In this self conscious scrotum world
This is dressed up to the nines.
They hang outside the body
For a temperature just right.
Sometimes seen in the daytime,
Always out at night.
If some bastard
Gives them a kick
They make their owners
Physically sick.
Their wrinkly skin
Will make you laugh
Like an octogenarian
Too long in the bath.
They move on their own
And often not together
They may just be a sex toy
As they are clearly made of leather.
I think they may be alien
They seem to be extra terrestrials.
You could be kissing ET
When licking, etcetera, testicles.
They have more blue veins
Than auntie Vera' s calves.
They are in this thing together
They don't do things by halves.
"I find them super s s sexy",
You tell me with your stutter.
I think you may well stamp on them
If you found them in a gutter.
They are there to just make babies,
To describe their role succinctly.
And that is why your offspring,
Debut all pink and wrinkly.
Remarkable poem, by miyako
by miyako
Quote:
Originally Posted by
miyako73
It's all about the light
coming from the window,
splits of bamboo,
left ajar at noon
for the air,
the chatters of peacocks,
the rain,
the noises of monsoon.
Am I Urmila
or Sita of Ramayana
in my dream
woven by the goddess
of sleep?
Your words bring me
to your lips
concealed by the hairs
on your face
as white as the light,
stingy of your tongue
that inaudibly speaks
in Bengali.
Is it Valmiki
or Tulsidas behind you
whispering in Sanskrit
that I'm a devadasi
bathed in lilac water?
The curls of our tongues
understand
the words of our lips
speaking of quiet
as my fingers move
the hairs
to see you say
the light is in Gitanjali.
The Sweat Cauldron by Wilyem Clark
Hungry-eyed old men
sift through calisthenicking limbs,
ogling the young: boys, girls—
it doesn't matter.
Every body in unison, disjointedly,
strains its joints, lifts arms and legs
against the planet's gravity.
Futile, futile.
The bods relax; the guts and butts
touch down, drop anchor, and reunite with
Mudder Earth.
The transient moisture of such labors
collects and drips,
gets ragwiped off,
to be laundered later, redissolved,
injected into sewer lines.
Outside, the crew resumes
their norm—both young and old
will eat their fill
of burgers and field greens and jamjam pie.
They'll ingest and micturate
their liquid essentials—
beers and teas and ionized glugs—
until the cycle begins anew...
evaporation and condensation
over and over in sealed alembics
of fleeting fitness and fissuring beauty;
the latter: ever-forever elusive.
Pump and heave, pedal and push,
bring those atoms that were consumed
back to the surface and sweat them all out
again, again.
