Let's Get Creative
Comments
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chadwick wrote:chadwick wrote:pandora wrote:
Touch
You took a vow, a pinky swear, a promise you made to her.
Then your words...
like stinging swords cut through the veins of love.
Love bled in that senseless moment,
a moment all about you.
Your fingers now are red with disloyalty
and trust lies dying at your hand ...
and trust lies dying at your hand
in full blown love?
i am not there
adore and breasts eating handfulls
like honey and flowers
i the poetry on her skin
written under sky
in red
her tummy and lower
my face implanted
swinging the tiger by the tail
her husband out of town
play time holding hands in private moaning ceilings
lock the blinds close the doors
swing the tiger by the tail
and we can paint the badroom blue
the bathroom area clouds and as soft
towels come home back down from sunbeam climbing
and as warmth to her body
bare and cleaned
i would have enjoyed being the water that cleansed her filthy body
smeared now in fragrant oils and creams
sunflowers and femininity growing spurting springs out of thin air
and brushy wilerness so excited a brand newday opening
:twisted: nice poem, chadwick
do you have a split personality chad??? you know quoting yourself is just a tad crazy.hear my name
take a good look
this could be the day
hold my hand
lie beside me
i just need to say0 -
catefrances wrote:
do you have a split personality chad??? you know quoting yourself is just a tad crazy.
but mostly i love, adore, cherish, and wanna touch a women's body six ways from sunday.for poetry through the ceiling. ISBN: 1 4241 8840 7
"Hear me, my chiefs!
I am tired; my heart is
sick and sad. From where
the sun stands I will fight
no more forever."
Chief Joseph - Nez Perce0 -
Simple Moments...
Silently we sit, I in my thoughts, jotting a few down.
Now and then I look over, just to watch you read.
Engrossed dark brown eyes moving quickly over the page.
Beautiful hands.
I smile ...
I know ...
first your eyes will get a little heavy, just a little.
You'll fight it and win for a time.
I imagine the words losing the story
and in that last nod you will make your own ...
a deep breath and you are peaceful in a dream.
This simple moment wraps love around me
hugs me hard
feeling the memory ...
this is you reading, napping
next to me.0 -
very nice, pandorafor poetry through the ceiling. ISBN: 1 4241 8840 7
"Hear me, my chiefs!
I am tired; my heart is
sick and sad. From where
the sun stands I will fight
no more forever."
Chief Joseph - Nez Perce0 -
Agreed - I like the visual of the vulnerability, and your perception of it.
I applied it to my sweetheart, but thinking this is moreso about a little one.
Either way, tenderness.0 -
hedonist wrote:Agreed - I like the visual of the vulnerability, and your perception of it.
I applied it to my sweetheart, but thinking this is moreso about a little one.
Either way, tenderness.
his heart very sweet.
It is our mortality plus 33 years together
there is much vulnerability and also resignation.
Thanks for your words!0 -
To see a deer in the wild, magical.
Through my mind run pictures,
unexpected moments, deer sightings, on a hike or a twilight drive.
Like the time walking in a thick, dark, moss covered woods.
Coming upon a family of deer laying under a circle of trees.
Appearing almost placed, picture perfect and
remaining so until we quietly passed.
We a guest in their home.
Amazed I was.
Or the time we took a moment of rest on a rock at the top
of a very large hill high above a wildflower meadow.
Hearing growing hoofbeats, rumbling from behind,
a young deer sprints by, running faster than I have ever seen,
his white tail a bobbing blur through lavender.
A picture I have kept in my head for over 30 years.
Countless memories of the majestic silhouettes,
peacefully feeding,
in the clearings of the campground chosen for that weekend.
Countless memories of inquisitive looks from soft brown eyes,
twitching ears at the sound of my voice saying
'hi! how are you!'
Memories that stir happy moments, a bond between myself and nature.
As important to me as anything here in this world.
God's world.
Now the City Deer.
A four corner busy intersection, two baby fawns feeding on tall grass,
no Mama in sight, middle of the day.
An 8 point buck, on a four lane highway, stopping traffic
under the scorching summer sun.
At the office, middle of an industrial park, lunchtime,
a lovely doe walks casually back to a small woods that has been spared,
allowed to remain untouched by human hand.
A tiny bit of God's world that is home to my new friend,
just outside the window.
From my heart pours a sadness,
new memories that will ache,
pictures that will run with tears
for the City Deer.
They are trapped here with me as God's world disappears.0 -
This man of mine, his heart
it's in the little things.
New baby bunny,
tennis ball with ears,
lives under the deck.
We have been enjoying him from the kitchen table,
he sneaks out early evening
has his dinner there where we can see.
My man mowed the back lawn yesterday...
I said ... you missed a little spot
he said ... no that is the bunny acre
I saved it for his dinner...
this man of mine
it's these little things
in his heart.0 -
My Child
My Life
Sitting in my office ...
I hear her giggle at something out front ...
giggle ... she just makes that word for me.
Her laugh sounds small once again ...
my little one sitting indian style
inches from the TV screen
dressed in flannel footy Pajamas
she rolls over backwards, sprawling,
laughing harder now
till I laugh too ...
the memory brings a smile and a tear.
Then I hear her voice, asking dad a question ...
her voice sounds small once again ...
My baby, in her car seat, in the way back
of the minivan...
she's telling her pooh bear a story
it has a moral she adds
making sure Pooh gets the intended message,
even then a determined woman in the making ...
the memory brings a smile and a tear.
I stand slowly walk around the corner,
her face smiling at the sight of me ...
"Hey Mom... you're so quiet in there,
I didn't even know you were there!"
her smile broadens ...
Her smile she is small once again ...
my precious, patiently drawing a picture
careful to outline each stroke with a new color,
purposely and proudly creating a masterpiece
she magnets to the frig
then turns to me at the sink smiles and says
"see what I drew!" ...
the memory brings a smile and a tear.
She stands and comes my way ...
"Mom you ok are you crying?"
her concern on her lovely heart shaped face ...
her face now grown I can see myself in her
I see my eyes in hers
I hear my laugh in hers
'no hun you bring a smile and a tear is all' ...
"oh Mom"... she hugs me.
We feel the love we share ...
that will forever bring a smile and a tear.0 -
Cloud On My Ceiling
Trying times of late brought me weary
back to bed
though the day had barely started.
Curled quietly next to my lady dogs
reaching out for them now and then to feel their warmth
my hands my feet my nose cold.
I rolled over to watch the tall trees in the side yard sway
bordering on violent
a constant rushing sound through closed patio doors.
I thought of the people that would be effected by the storm.
I felt fortunate and sad and more weary for them.
Just then my eye caught a bit of reflected light on my bedroom wall.
It resembled a little cloud the size of my palm
dancing rocking jumping about.
I stared
mesmerized
watching it change shape to suit my desire.
I thought of the phenomenon that brought it to me.
The place that all light comes from and returns to.
Many minutes passed till it magically met the ceiling
Ha!
a cloud on my ceiling
trapped there just for me.
Then slowly slowly it began to get smaller smaller
and then it was gone
poof
disappeared.
In that moment the thought
'out of the darkness comes light'
whispered from my lips.
I look for it now each day around that time
it has not yet returned.
It seems it was a special light
a special time
more special than I knew.0 -
pandora wrote:
Melancholy
just a beautiful word ... melancholy
really
a pretty word for a not so pretty place
a place one can't quite place
Melancholy
it arrives in a fog
creeps in
covers thoughts
grays it all
so they don't matter
so nothing matters
Melancholy
the aftermath of trauma
maybe the precursor
a sixth sense to doom
another word for gloom
readying a wall
to damn the tears
in a blue numb fortress
the only place to hide
Melancholy
sounds like a tune of sad bells
echoing defeat
no...
no sound
it is silence
except for the incessant heart beat
that just can't stop
with each beat
emotion lays silent
stifled
Melancholy
no energy for anger
no energy for tears
fear is absent
there is no battle
Melancholy
defeat without battle
Melancholy
no game no win
no gain to be had
Melancholy
walking in the rain
without getting wet
not seeing the birds
not feeling the sunshine
not wanting to
hear a voice
nor see a face
no touch
don't touch
Melancholy
It is not living
it is life on hold
till Time makes it
just a beautiful word again
You write so beautifully.I can relate to this and Time has come today.That what you fear the most could meet you halfway0 -
pandora wrote:
Gentle Is As Gentle Goes
So we do battle until one of us is broken?
You say it is me...
that I can not see.
I say it is you ....
that you can not can feel.
Gentle is as gentle does.
If you wound a heart,
will it feel more or less?
If you blind some one with light,
will they see more or less?
Gentle is as gentle does.
Let me touch you so you might feel with me.
Turn low the light so I might see with you.
Gentle is as gentle does
Blindfold removed
heart wide open
trusting as we go
stronger than before
because
Gentle Is As Gentle Goes ....
Mamas eyes glistened in the holiday fire
she whispered, I don't care
I waited choosing words I had heard before
"people are incredibly disappointing"
in the firelight I saw a hint of smile
her smile
I'm missing already, always
she whispers back
thanks I needed that
her hand reaches for mine
its just a bit cooler than it was beforeThat what you fear the most could meet you halfway0 -
pandora wrote:Once More
Once more to see your smile,
your honey sweet face.
Once more to feel the softness,
warm, thick in my hands.
Once more to live your world,
smell the dirt, feel the grass,
chase the chipmunks in your eyes.
Sniff the evening breeze that's carried on the miles.
Once more to hear you,
your breathing echo mine,
my little shadow, so quiet behind me,
always there, always there,
once more.
Once more to feel the tiny heartbeat lay in my arms,
hear the sigh,
share our peace.
My little piece of heaven.
Once more to live a memory,
laugh a moment.
Once more to be young,
young together.... again.
Once more to not be alone.
Once more to be with you.
2 years today I said goodbye to my Charlie. He was a gift to me, 13 and half years of pure love.
I pray for once more someday. This poem is how I feel, I keep it close like Charlie.That what you fear the most could meet you halfway0 -
pandora wrote:THERE
I remember you from always even before I knew you were there
the hushed voice under all others
a swoosh and a breath
I knew your words
while doubting my own
you were there
the shooting star
in the corner of my eye
a mistaken movement
a side glance with deep eyes
you were there
as sure as a sunrise and a sunset
starts and ends each day
as sure as love lasts forever
and is ours to keep at least until then
you were there
I remember your love from always even before I knew it was there
You amaze me.
This is what I got http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vRWqf4Ksa2E
The devil doesn't get all the glory.That what you fear the most could meet you halfway0 -
pandora wrote:reflection in a shadow
i awoke this morning to a lovely shadow on the wall
intricate branches of a tree outside
with a few lasting leaves fluttering in a breeze
i could not feel i could not hear
i lay mesmerized watching the shadow in fleeting moments
we had a short time together
i raised my hand to see it small amongst the leaves
i moved it with the breeze
that i could not feel that i could not hear
i felt separate yet apart changing yet the same fleeting yet lasting
in a moment in forever i am a reflection in a shadow
how do you take how do you see
a moment this way
each day
something simple turned
something magic learned
how do you take how do you see
all of it for meThat what you fear the most could meet you halfway0 -
"I sat on the porch looking at my best old friend.
I'm old now we are both old ...
I'd rather think weathered
I'd rather think aged
I'd rather think well broke in.
We laughed at that
me and my best old friend.
So many miles we've traveled
good and bad
I always could depend on her.
She'd get me through she'd take me there
loyal til the end my best old friend.
The times they don't get better
still bumping through the years
we're parked here on the porch now
me and my best old friend."That what you fear the most could meet you halfway0 -
wow..what a wonderful thread!"...Dimitri...He talks to me...'.."The Ghost of Greece..".
"..That's One Happy Fuckin Ghost.."
“..That came up on the Pillow Case...This is for the Greek, With Our Apologies.....”0 -
Fragments of a novel
Like pieces from a puzzle
Scattered aboutCancel my subscription to the Ressurection
Send my credentials to the house of detention0 -
Delicacy evades me like the stars
Ships come and go
No matter
Don't ask and I won't tell
(Man)Cancel my subscription to the Ressurection
Send my credentials to the house of detention0 -
pandora wrote:Labor Day 1966
When I was school age
we didn't go back to school til the day after Labor Day.
So many of my memories of this day
are filled with anticipation of the new school year......
Memories of the anticipation....
Last week Friday I would have walked up to my grade school
to look at the long white sheets of paper
scotch taped to the windows
that tell each of us who our new teacher is for the year.
There are excited happy squeals
from those who got the preferred cool teachers.
And boy could you tell who didn't.
The disgusted, disappointed looks on the faces of those
who got the mean teachers.
I think this our first taste of politics. The unfairness of life.
If you were the latter you were filled with the anticipation
of a not so good 9 months to come. Damn.
Anticipation of probably no cool field trips,
no awesome special snack time,
no unique projects and style of teaching that made learning fun.
Now your world was looking rather bleak,
it helped though to have good friends along to share in the torment.
So who's name was listed with yours could make
or break even the greatest or worst of news.
It could also make or break the best friendships too,
being separated for the school year.
All my new folders would have been carefully color chosen
and pre-doodled on, daisies, peace signs, initials of wanton love.
A small pencil bag is filled with pencils
and erasers of different colors and shapes.
A small box of crayons too.
There are no book bags yet, that would come much later.
Books are stacked and carried,
if you were a girl on your forearm against your chest,
a boy, stacked under hand, carried macho style, against your hip.
New school shoes peek from under the bed, super shiny and stiff,
destined to cause some blisters before the first day is out.
Better remember the bandaids, add them to the pencil bag,
best not to visit the school nurse the very first day.
My favorite back to school outfit lays on the chair,
wool skirt, sweater, knee highs,
even in Wisconsin this fall outfit premature for the last of the summer heat.
But suffer we will to look good, that starts early on.
The biggest part of Labor Day I remember
was trying to fall asleep in the still light, warm summer evening.
Laying there long after the sun set and the crickets started their song.
My bed positioned by the window to feel the evening breeze
and see the moon cast light across the backyard.
There I would lay wondering what the new school year would bring.
Anticipating new fun with old friends.
The anticipation of making new friends
and maybe new love at the tender age of ten.
Love, even then, the greatest anticipation in life.
where have all the years gone? almost 48 of them.Another Wow.
Well it was just a few years later and the rest is history. Its been a fine life for me,
I wouldn't change a thing. I like the loopback, I like the view, I got a corny rhyme for that too.That what you fear the most could meet you halfway0
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