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Open Poetry #33
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babygirlwlove
Senior Member
since 2004-10-10
Posts 1180
New York City

0 posted 2004-10-14 06:43 AM



How far
and irreparable the heart
falls from the page,
indulgent muscle of soft,
red clay, kaolin omen
of the coming ash, as if
its syntax could lead us
inexplicably to grace,
through all the leftover marl
of roadside wildflowers, the moon
begins to shoulder up
and the dogwoods go red,
as lips form fine words,
soundless as rain
runs its largest sutures
over a gaping landscape,
held intact by gossamer faith,
dead leaves like words
fall about our shoulders,
outsourcing night
to these fleeting eternities,
as if this moment
was meant to last forever, long over
the light once silky and rare
dims to a glare, slingshot
and backlit in the tepid dregs
of moonshadows, a gold guise
of limbs dusted with cinnamon,
gives off the illusion of elegance,
our lips form fine words, soundless
psalms summered out of wounds
to summon a phantom of something removed,
and with what weary yawns
the unwilling flesh robes its spirit
in Lethe, as lips that yet utter breath
from ash, are dust.

2004 copyright BabygirLPress


© Copyright 2004 babygirLPress - All Rights Reserved
Janet Marie
Member Laureate
since 2000-01-22
Posts 18554

1 posted 2004-10-14 09:04 AM


as if this moment
was meant to last forever, long over
the light once silky and rare
dims to a glare, slingshot
and backlit in the tepid dregs
of moonshadows, a gold guise
of limbs dusted with cinnamon,
gives off the illusion of elegance,
our lips form fine words, soundless
psalms summered out of wounds
to summon a phantom of something removed,
and with what weary yawns
the unwilling flesh robes its spirit
in Lethe, as lips that yet utter breath
from ash, are dust.
================================
First of all, welcome to poetry land.
I've been reading your poetic offerings posted in the various forums ...what you do with imagery and vocabulary is most impressive. Its a poets pleasure to read such refined, outstanding work ...Im sure you'll have a large following here.
Nice to you here with us.

I would love to live as a river flows, carried by the surprise of its own unfolding.

~Fluent~
John O'Donohue


Dark Stranger
Member Patricius
since 2001-03-19
Posts 13631
West Coast
2 posted 2004-10-14 09:28 AM


where is my demon sip
on brim of river lethe
but under the devil dawn
when eyes are but useless skin

hot write ms bbg
a sinful singe


Soleil Noir
Senior Member
since 2001-12-19
Posts 688
USA
3 posted 2004-10-14 09:30 AM


I began to copy the parts I like...
but it is redundant to place
the whole poem within my response.

I like your style.

babygirlwlove
Senior Member
since 2004-10-10
Posts 1180
New York City
4 posted 2004-10-14 09:50 AM


Janet Marie~Thank you for the warm welcome.  It is an absolute delight to be here...

Dark~you stir up those old river songs in but a whisper..(thank you)...

Soleil Noir~thank you, my friend...

**babygirl**

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