OPEN POETRY # 33 - Another giant leap towards the end.

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Honeybunch
Member Rara Avis

since 2001-12-29

Posts 7115
South Africa

0 posted 2004-12-01 09:13 AM

Howdy!  More complicated ramblings
from my careless mouth.

My advice to puppets –
go back to childhood chapter 1
squeezing in amidst one another
under the lotus tree
(poplar trees for Rick and Rose)
and feel the brush of wind
dancing for eternity
with that certain grace
then swelter under genuine observations
and embrace this life you lead
because life is good.

When in the course of
poetic beginnings,
the past should pass
for there’s a face yet to dream
in the DNA pool
and I wanted water to fill my pool
because I know your palette
like an unread book …
but I ask wind for words
explicit –
roses are red, violets are blue, etc.,
for this woman in white house
with a small pink and purple horseshoe
of silk and rope
coupled.

Though in darkness you walk
fear not seasons of love
for blind dogs (the 3d and final revision thereof)
and the bird dog
will take you for a walk down memory lane
to a little tree and a yellow flower called Melody,
outrunning fears.

Why?  To embrace desert heat
from piano blue sky, a darker blue,
betwixt birds of prey in the clouds
amongst angels, my mentor lover,
as if you were a bubble
in the eyes of time.

So alright already,
I want your picture
revealing the belly
for me to reminisce
sometime again in raspberry
(the luggage can go in the shed).

I had a conversation with yesterday -
so, you’re never gonna let her go?
The caress of her love
and such short and sweet perfection
a terminal tear jerk
in a lover’s tale
forever and a day
building life-tall walls –
no lost civilizations being found?

“I”, jigsaw of rain and you,
the maze upon a box,
and ever hopeful banjo,
soaked on silence beach
forevermore,
reflections on grief
in the whisperings of autumn
demoting the days?

Give yourself a gift,
spontaneous gifts,
iron bar knuckle to jaw
of just a little bit mended
treasuring a future love song,
not the way of hate
chapped-lip hurt.

As we become one and the same
no “beware of strangers with lying eyes”
in the psychic drafts through my little window.

I’m learning as I go – Love life death
as I meander en code
not so level
but lacking the sins of Babylon
in a notion of dreams
swimming with a sea ray.

Some of the beast
in sight strained self
at risk behaviour riding on wheels
through velvet snow
up to the tenth floor over Hyde Park
(a nod and a wink) … no,
to a door of metaphor
unlocked, unhealed,
in storms reflection
this morning with mirrors.

Because and for you
the letter (revised and reposted)
not a battle hymn of the dissident,
please and thank you!

Your own advice to kiss a witch
not some oyster of Sheraton virginity
decomposing Freud at Club Abindog.
A notey thing black crows of our actions.

Just thinking to two loves in my life,
the sea and you,
what if tomorrow never comes
where love always extends?
Life without bail for pretty eyes
of lady of light and lady in white
after the dragons fly –
that is me, end of a reign
for winter’s child,
too soon at summer’s end.

Rise - but quietly she lay
behind one woman’s walls
of suspended sentiment
playing hide and seek
within the humidity of …
a writing addiction.

The forecast?  Her mystic glow,
infinity in its finiteness,
branded,
primal screams in August,
circled with sunflower sherbet.
imprinted upon my heart.

Our game, the polarity of convenience,
a thread to Andromeda
or fire, earth, water, air,
and a Vijay Day,
chime of a forever “would”
rocking away at the foothills
of precious moments.

The sun shall rise again
after this bitter wind
and Indian summer partly cloudy -
poetic declaration!
You know me.

Just a smell, the soul kiss
of lovely hearts eternity
in freedom
before the hurricane approaches
under black and white
on brittle paper.
Sea, stars, and moon,
dreams in snow,
stranded in vesper dawns
over a mountain,
no cleansing burn
existing between them.

You, the white ghost of salt shadows,
invitation to my heart
through the eyes of God
but a butterfly is a butterfly
sighting a flight of vision on a sun
riding alone wire trussed –
migration.

Yesterday’s dreams
dead quiet
rock bottom heart
on the wings of hope,
spirit love on extended holiday.
A groan into the arms of love
before the dim.
No skin mending morning
of sunshine on stone,
the caregiver we all love,
just conversations with a man
in the dark
since I’ve been gone.

I don’t/do want to know,
how high can a seagull fly
from you
in June twilight
of dark arches and cold stone?
We lose us
in the “he will … she didn’t”
and the reaper grins
but well springs the autumn
in a village of humanity
when an incident of writer’s block
brings on wordless Monday.

Summer’s expansion
and you named it passion to care,
a defining moment
sleeping with the enemy
in a little love cabin in the wood.

Intuitions lamp
waking ages of life
in spheres of the natural
where once upon the lava’s flow
I raised the window
To the stray cat
and a moment of forever.

We find us
victims of passion
dissected by the moon
on skies of blue –
the daisy and his buttercup
in the pendulum swing
of faith
though silent the early years
of sensual soothing.

One more road
and you go with me
neither here nor there
down a sun showered rainbow
and down the river
as I sit here in spirit’s call,
oasis of the soul beneath the surface …
and the best place for writing poetry,
waiting for you
upon a midsummer’s dream
until noontide obscurity,
my love for you
a matter of choice.

When sorry isn’t a word anymore,
whisper to me
and bid time return
smiling recollection
of our hard mangled manner,
hot stuff of emergency response,
when a star fell on me
holding earth angel’s muse captive,
a tale of … eek!

The writing of poems,
inspired thoughts;
do you have a little time for me
because Cleopatra’s risen
like a U.D.O.
chasing after you
but proceeding as if normal?

As luck would have it
some nights I hear them,
words looping
rocked by a whisper –
something real?

So, with out to-do,
stand up tall to me
Coral Rose of the broken heart club
on this a cotton day
of pink shells, brown
for I may never be
conversationally impaired,
indecisive, and vague,
in our sky beyond the stars
and into the night
given a margin of air.

Am I giving you a ride?
let us burn as we should
in this 101 embrace
for only then
a new dawn.

I have electric vision
through September smoke
my harmony and descant
deafening park ducks.
Some days
the black oak concerto
in minor chords
like Rome falling
on Sunday’s nameless woman
with a heart of glass
but it’s alright,
Toerag asks the preacher
for the song of life …
and if you don’t hear it,
you’re not listening!

He is … focus,
she is … sacrifice!
Please Father, don’t look at me,
the “hey pretty” where truth lies
like a bad wrap in my heart of love,
the phoenix fire, no gypsy lullaby,
as if I was a church.

I am the sunset, the autumn wind,
water deep blue, a rainbow lost,
a song (not a “city” song),
August hay, psyches well,
a forever “forget me not”,
and I am art (he says)
at the wound of entry
of reflective highs
and that’s still how it’s meant to be
when all of me I freely give to love.

We came to be
through sorrows tear,
holes and knots our habit,
tin in skin, sleepers letting go
at the base of the aura
in loitering dimensions,
until one very romantic saga
like hurricane charley,
the lantern lights
to a poem with no name
by someone under umbrellas
of the Faerie Fae
and “etheral” - ?? “ethereal”
“obnubilation” - ?? (I haven’t a clue but it sounds good).

My signature lost
in mountain’s shadow,
what lies within plagued
by the roar of chaos,
my Peter Pan, never, never land,
on the road to your heart
throwing rocks at windows
and your reading addiction
but … some flaws in us all
and the song remains the same,
the hidden note of words and words
in respect to the play of light and prophets.

Where are we all going,
my elusive butterfly?
That moon with Darwin
and the space utility vehicle?
I listen but one eye blinks,
one eye winks,
and Jupiter smiles
from Aries’ eyes.

Fleeting tempestuous lip press,
sad songs in the aftermath
remembering love, the gift,
and whiplash for the mistress
in a goodbye letter –
another poem’s back story.

From cradle creek, the beginning,
spinning unopened
a step or two behind,
too late, too soon,
a blue shoe botheration
by the grace of God
as cheerfully the glade made mist,
feline calisthenics, broken Barbie dolls,
empty tissue boxes, and last night’s idea
of perfect.

Someone said salt and vinegar
on moon shadows and singing sands
on parting
but don’t even try,
antagonist of the opossum,
just set me free
outside the poker room.

It’s inevitable
that the friendship of just you and I
should be put on the back burner
when the neighbourhood blabbermouth strikes again
september come November
but it’s something I’ll always miss.

From majestic moments
to a black hole
using silence to depart
and to still love, true love,
not the hardest thing to do
when in denial
my thundercloud
passing through the chicken barn
at the country fair.

I feel temptation wandering in the wind,
caution – dangerous curves ahead …
and that’s how addiction is born,
the occasional flame
just a hazard in the way
of not seeing God again.

(to be continued)

(How does one sleep when the heart weeps?)

Midnitesun

Member Empyrean

since 2001-05-18

Posts 28647
Gaia

1 posted 2004-12-01 11:05 PM

damn, Helen! what an epic piece! so completely absorbed by the flow of this, words, time and emotion all roll down the page as if it's one long thought, one huge heartbeat in time, and there are so many lines I could highlight.

Suffice it to say, I'll keep this, re-read it again, for it is a very intense, powerful piece.

Martie

Moderator

Member Empyrean

since 1999-09-21

Posts 28049
California

2 posted 2004-12-01 11:50 PM

Wow!!

Earth Angel
Member Empyrean

since 2002-08-27

Posts 40215
Realms of Light

3 posted 2004-12-02 12:17 PM

Bunches of Honey, you must be cross-eyed by now! ~ and have a raging migraine! How on earth did you manage such a feat! It truly is amazing what you did! ~ and I have enjoyed reading all of them!

Also brings back memories i.e. ~ when Marge was holding my muse captive! lol

Great fun this has been!

Loves 'n Laughs,
EA

Honeybunch
Member Rara Avis

since 2001-12-29

Posts 7115
South Africa

4 posted 2004-12-02 02:48 AM

Midnitesun, Martie, and EA - Thank you so much for reading. It's just something I have to do perhaps just because I said I would. No, I don't suffer from migrains fortunately but certainly from lack of movement this last little while. After this? Plan a holiday to the good old U.S.A. - my son lives in Seattle and I've never been there.

Dark Angel
Member Patricius

since 1999-08-04

Posts 10095

5 posted 2004-12-02 07:38 AM

Gee Whiz!

Fantabulous!

into this night i wonder, it's morning that i dread, another day of knowing of, the path i fear to tread.
~Sarah McLachlan~

*Alli4000*

Member Elite

since 2004-03-21

Posts 3188
The World of Poetry

6 posted 2004-12-02 06:26 PM

When you said giant, you meant GIANT! Lol...it's amazing what you have done!

~Alli~

*:.AIM = Alli4000.:*
Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened...

suthern

Member Seraphic

since 1999-07-29

Posts 20723
Louisiana

7 posted 2004-12-03 12:54 PM

Reading these gives a double treat... the poem you've created... and a reminder of favorites. *S*

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