“It doesn't have to be
about flowers”,
her season speaks,
reviving river,
dripping swollen bank from distant storm,
flashing glass to stain my temple;
where grass
imprinted meadow's tale
in lusty page,
turning love through aging grace,
amazing writer,
remembering stem
to mend sweet lily's curve,
implanted sage,
engaging pulse
in whitewater bubble.
Much in history is under rubble,
past-life morgue, molding,
melting mirror,
clearer wall to pray for fairest beauty
reviving grace in glance at passion;
ashes falling,
raging dialect
plagiarizing promise
to pose, as perfect.
I have seen
my wrinkled canyons,
as stone-dried dreams in need of moisture,
their words, etched in pictographs of god,
as potent points of powerful pen,
and not this odd anomaly of fallen skies,
closing eyes in synthesized sighs,
where youth and truth
are closeted enemies.
Now, I am coming out to bare my wind,
as breath the brave might want to borrow,
tomorrow
late to find forever,
as never knows so much of now,
in always,
blowing clouds to blossom.
In a list
- Beautiful Words by Beautiful People I Know • next in list
- List of Poems Written for Me by AP Poets (under construction) • next in list
- My Favorite AP Poets • next in list
A contest entry
- PIF contest: Picture~Inspired by Night Hope.
1500 points, ended August 31, 2008, 16 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 6 of 6
-
well penned for the prompt . . congrats on the trophy
-
First of all, let me thank you for your entry into my contest. I appreciate the time & effort that you spent on your poem immensely, because I completely recognize & understand the symptoms as being my own, as well. lol
Also, please let me apologize & ask for your understanding this somewhat generic comment; I have a migraine & need to get this contest judged so I can get to bed. I don't have a lot of time or energy to be online these days. Which is partly why I'm commenting at 3 am.
I thank you sincerely for sharing this part of your Self with the rest of us lost, angelic souls...Keep writing...This world needs all the Poets & Scribes it can hold. Especially now.
Be good to yourself & those around you; it really does matter, as you know.
~ Wanda
-
"I have seen
my wrinkled canyons,
as stone-dried dreams in need of moisture,
their words, etched in pictographs of god,
as potent points of powerful pen,
and not this odd anomaly of fallen skies"
Ohhh, wow, Rich. Sheer brilliance...
~ * ~
"Now, I am coming out to bare my wind,
as breath the brave might want to borrow,
tomorrow
late to find forever,
as never knows so much of now,
in always,
blowing clouds to blossom."
What can I possibly say to you about this poem, my Friend? How can I tell you what & how much it means to me at this precise moment? There are no words, dear Scribe. Suffice it to say, I only ever grow more impressed...
Good luck & thank you for entering my contest, Sweetie.
P.S.
Yet, it always does end up bein' about flowers somehow anyway, doesn't it? lol
-
powerful pen ♥
No, it doesn't have to be about flowers, but it is about coming to bloom, "turning love through aging grace," and we learn to see it through different, wiser eyes. I don't know if I'll ever see it with the freshness of your eyes, Rich, which is what makes your poems feel new, each time I read one, and I find you stealing my breath in in smiling sighs.
-
beautiful
The title is awkward but the writing poetry is a really good write.
-
-
Thanks for the input...changed the title...
-
Adding your comment:
1 - 6 of 6
