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Dark Stranger
Member Patricius

since 2001-03-19

Posts 13631
West Coast

0 posted 2009-07-13 08:11 AM

sometimes it was in the morning liquid we worshiped
gravy gray, we called it salt burn lotion
some drunk drizzling dawn left on her curves
like the cling of soggy wet sock memories

but we did our go backs often, the leather men and I
as if we had found some new sounds in an old record
and needed to keep refeeling the grooves
with the pointed ends of our collective recollection

and if we would have but given our words to god
would we be now so much more quietly sinless
perhaps nearly the saintly flags there waving
our voices polished with echoes of metalic apostles

and of our lilac women there, usually nude on hillsides
as if the sun had removed their fragile modesty
and they were just accumulating glances from strangers
to use as doweries when they gave their scent away

to our meandering evenings who were usually shoed but hatless

_________________

daark (highway series)(decker canyon down to the 1 from the 101)

[This message has been edited by Dark Stranger (07-13-2009 09:58 AM).]

unboundpoetess
Member

since 2008-05-24

Posts 477

1 posted 2009-07-13 01:15 PM

Love you sharing your eyes with us, D.
I eat it like candy.

H

Dark Stranger
Member Patricius

since 2001-03-19

Posts 13631
West Coast

2 posted 2009-07-13 02:19 PM

ms UBP, thank you for the sweet tooth babe!!

jbstillwater
Member

since 2009-07-03

Posts 216
Albuquerque, New Mexico

3 posted 2009-07-13 03:56 PM

capturing the moment in a poem is one of the most difficult things to do but you have done it very cleverly and with great style in this poem, Dark...I am becoming a fan!

Jan

Dark Stranger
Member Patricius

since 2001-03-19

Posts 13631
West Coast

4 posted 2009-07-13 04:02 PM

Ms JB humble thanks for the touch.

Margherita
Member Seraphic

since 2003-02-08

Posts 22236
Eternity

5 posted 2009-07-13 07:06 PM

quote:
sometimes it was in the morning liquid we worshiped
gravy gray, we called it salt burn lotion
some drunk drizzling dawn left on her curves
like the cling of soggy wet sock memories

Your mind is like a camera that stores images at light speed and translates them into the most exquisitely unique and appealing poetic language.

And the "lilac women"? Magical rendering!

Love,
Margherita

Dark Stranger
Member Patricius

since 2001-03-19

Posts 13631
West Coast

6 posted 2009-07-14 07:21 AM

ms mar, humble thanks lady friend

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