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Open Poetry #21
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Martie
Moderator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-09-21
Posts 28049
California

0 posted 2002-08-13 12:30 PM



It was between seconds, I think,
when I blinked and the sun fell
behind some wasted buildings
with trivia at the windows long worn,
now scorned by color of the street,

sheets of walls and dirt halls
the comfort of cement with crack
and brown paper bags of hope left slack
in piles upon the memory float
where little boys and girls once wrote
of becoming,

their names like hope
on peanut butter and wonderbread emote.

when I passed that blink of block
the garbage truck had taken torn
and replaced it with clean and warm,
just past the place of feral dark
there was even a green of park.

© Copyright 2002 Martie Odell Ingebretsen - All Rights Reserved
Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354
Listening to every heart
1 posted 2002-08-13 12:35 PM



Soon, soon, I shall invite
you into the light
of the sidewalks and banana trees
that La-La'd my memories...

Loving this...
hugging you!


Seymour Tabin
Member Empyrean
since 1999-07-07
Posts 31720
Tamarac Fla
2 posted 2002-08-13 12:35 PM


Martie,
This is a sweep of beauty,

Dark Stranger
Member Patricius
since 2001-03-19
Posts 13631
West Coast
3 posted 2002-08-13 12:49 PM


ok so you were in woodland hills again..cool write ms martie.  you make such nice shadows of layers.

dug it babe

Duncan
Member Ascendant
since 2001-08-07
Posts 5455

4 posted 2002-08-13 01:04 PM


sheets of walls and dirt halls
the comfort of cement with crack
and brown paper bags of hope left slack
in piles upon the memory float
where little boys and girls once wrote
of becoming,

their names like hope
on peanut butter and wonderbread emote.

Somehow Martie, you managed to soften the starkness of loss in this with a rhythm that was soothing when read aloud.  I really liked this alot.

[This message has been edited by Duncan (08-13-2002 01:06 PM).]

bsquirrel
Deputy Moderator 5 Tours
Member Rara Avis
since 2000-01-03
Posts 7855

5 posted 2002-08-13 01:16 PM


I hope you *weren't* in Woodland Hills. It's too bloody hot here.

Loved it, Martie.

Trash Day Wednesdays Mike

Marge Tindal
Deputy Moderator 5 ToursDeputy Moderator 1 TourDeputy Moderator 1 TourDeputy Moderator 1 Tour
Member Empyrean
since 1999-11-06
Posts 42384
Florida's Foreverly Shores
6 posted 2002-08-13 01:23 PM


Sis~
You've never blinked in your poetic life~

You are something else lady ... and that's amazing~
*Hugs*
~*Marge*~

~*The pen of the poet never runs out of ink, as long as we breathe.*~
           noles1@totcon.com                       

Martie
Moderator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-09-21
Posts 28049
California
7 posted 2002-08-13 10:39 PM


Karilea--Would love to go with you to your La la land...the only place I remember with banana trees is on the coast on the way to Santa Barbara..and it's gone now.

Sy--Some not beauty and yet...depends on the eye...thanks for seeing the one.

DS--Not either Woodland Hills...was only East of LA.  Thanks for the dig of you.

Duncan--I appreciate what you said...I always try to see things in a possitive way..sometimes it's hard.

Mike--It is hot here in the San Gabriel valley too...the opposite side of you...but this was the middle and the heat was of a different kind.

Marge--You just made me blink back a tear..so there!!  Hugs!


Goodknight
Member Elite
since 2002-06-15
Posts 2386
Ohio, USA
8 posted 2002-08-14 09:05 AM


Martie - you reveal through poetic eyes the difficulties and reactions to places like East LA - a very powerful poem saying lots to all of us - loved it - Paul
Magnus
Deputy Moderator 1 TourDeputy Moderator 1 Tour
Member Laureate
since 2001-10-10
Posts 14135
South Carolina, USA
9 posted 2002-08-14 05:58 PM


Martie,  I swear girl, you could paint a
picture of a concrete wall,  all by itself
and turn it into a garden of roses or
something else spectacular.....

Madame Chipmunk
Member Rara Avis
since 2001-12-05
Posts 8296
Michigan
10 posted 2002-08-15 12:25 PM


the comfort of cement with crack
and brown paper bags of hope left slack
in piles upon the memory float
where little boys and girls once wrote
of becoming,

This reminds me of drawing on the sidewalk with chalk, when I was a kid...
It has that warm feel of nostalgia...
Another gorgeous write, Martie...
~ hugs of sidewalk chalk

Lyra

copyright2002 Lyra Nesius

"poetry is life distilled"  Gwendolyn Brooks

Radrook
Senior Member
since 2002-08-09
Posts 648

11 posted 2002-08-16 04:56 AM


Very nice!
You have great talent!
God Bless!

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