Pull the pinions from the wing
keep the bird to hear him sing.
She always has a story. She is
the damsel stolen with a spell.
Weaves shivers in your heart;
she laughs, it shimmers through muscles
rollicks and dances, leaves
the bones a quiver,
an old house by the river
windows blown out
doors half off the hinges.
Dandelion snow tickles the nose
makes you sneeze. It is
the promise of yellow topped rascals
the first heat of a springtime breeze
racing free and barefoot
across yards uncut.
Life is not going to change.
No matter how hard the heart is
squeezed with dreams, we don’t
get to vote on the truth, doesn’t
matter how brave the sheriff
how big the lynch mob.
A kite against the cloud,
her mouth a beautiful O,
her hands flutter
children on a play ground -- who’s it.
The string winks, teases the eye
free and disappearing,
I wait for her to reel me in.
11:52 PM • 07-03-09 • Alexandria, VA
In a list
A contest entry
- Friday Night Quickie by Jfd.
700 points, ended July 20, 3 entries
Bronze trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think, what it makes you feel, how you are moved.
Comments
1 - 30 of 30
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Dandelion snow tickles the nose
makes you sneeze. It is
the promise of yellow topped rascals
the first heat of a springtime breeze
racing free and barefoot
across yards uncut.
I've read and re-read this piece several times, and each time I do I get something different. I could easily believe this is meant for so many women )and little girls) in my life. It's beautiful, intriguing, intoxicating, wonderful.
Love,
jin -
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Love opens the door and often we walk in not knowing if we will stay. Everyone talks about forever, but the moment is only today.
It often is sad when we can't go where we are going
with the parade banging drums and high stepping.
All the people waving and the song we want to keep
playing turn the corner and head on another way.
Love isn't foolish but we often are, chasing
down dreams and wondering who they are really for.
Love,
Tom B.
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this is thoughtful and wise, I loved the flow to it and your vocab choices, a very good take on the prompt, thank you for entering
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We are masters of our fate on the wind tossed white caps, steering towards the promise found with sexton and thought. We are masters of our fate, are we not? Too often the strength of the inventions steals the inventor to places unknown.
Thanks for the trophy.
Peace,
Tom B.
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There is such a carefree mood written here. The "dandelions" are the first inclination. "Who's it" is next, along with the "kite". There is so much wonder here. There is softness, and noon sun...Very beautiful Tom. I wish you well in the contest.
Much Love ♥
Renee
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I, somehow, missed this note upon a poem. Often we are the most strongly touched by a moment of madness when it was all a dance with chance and the rhythms tattooed themselves upon our heart. We are not bruised by love so often as transformed and awaken after the dream is past to find ourselves strangers to ourselves.
Love, Tom B.
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the freedom and flight of the woman
was truly enjoyable; casting her spells
broken hinges on the door (she should improve
her spells) giggle.
favorite verse:
Dandelion snow tickles the nose
makes you sneeze. It is
the promise of yellow topped rascals
the first heat of a springtime breeze
racing free and barefoot
across yards uncut.
loved that invokes the feeling of soft fresh
grass tickling the toes!
the dandelion snow is Fabulous imagery!
loved it!
ears/Seattle sis
way to write!
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We are, but, children when we are in love. Often the heat of love when it is without timber to burn leaves us feeling hollow. Then we discover that love takes two and all our desire is baseless without the desire of the other.
Love,
Tom B.
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Dandelion snow tickles the nose
makes you sneeze. It is
the promise of yellow topped rascals
the first heat of a springtime breeze
racing free and barefoot
across yards uncut.
It's a wonderful write.
Beautifully weaved.
All the best in the contest.
Swati
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Thank you. The magic is a moment. We too often hide in the conversation and forget to be alive. Love drives wantonly into the point where we are so alive, present. Glad you enjoyed my dance with foolishness.
Peace & Light,
Tom B.
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Life is not going to change.
No matter how hard the heart is
squeezed with dreams, we don’t
get to vote on the truth, doesn’t
matter how brave the sheriff
how big the lynch mob.
I have to wonder if she knows just how special you think she is. This is so pretty Tom, I am actually sitting here, too stunned to cry. Daedulus was Icarus' father, also the one who told him not to fly too close to the sun, now too low that the ocean would swallow him. He lamented the rest of his days in the exile that he and his son were attempting to escape, except after Icarus' fall, he was all alone.
Very sad, his tragic fate. I guess that's also something that really pulls me into this write. Aside from the emotion pouring forth in each stanza.
Quite beautiful Tom.
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We may never know...
Most people are incapable of accepting how special they are. It is often the reason they never can receive the love they wish for so badly. You might know better than most. The emotions that I keep en-shelled in words, wondering how often they escape to clamber through another's heart and nerves.
Love,
Tom B. -
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okay, either I'm just really tired, or I totally missed your point.
know better than most....? me? okay.
just call me a sponge, I absorb so much emotion inside another's words. this is no exception.
Im listing this write.
so there.
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I'm going to look it up too
A new word always gets me riled up and I love the flavor of the words by the way, keep me moving along the lines until it' finishes.
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You need to explore Greek mythology. They combined awe and tragedy beautifully. The universe was a constant drama unfolding a petal at a time. Glad you enjoyed this particular poem and all the wonders of language it holds.
Love, Tom B.
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Where the Jeebus is everyone getting those rose emoticons from?
On the other hand, I love this poem, especially this line: "No matter how hard the heart is
squeezed with dreams, we don’t
get to vote on the truth" -
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Thanks for the compliment
There is a column that has all the emoticons on it. Glad it touched you.
Peace & Light,
Tom B.
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Dreams, wishes are a big part of most lives and here you show us there's nothing wrong with dreaming except it takes time and some times they will fall from our hopes just like Daedalus
did when he flew to close to the sun....splat! we too fall on our faces at times but we live to dream again, again....I enjoyed this one it truly spoken word... best impact when I read it out loud....with feelings....baby you rocked....novy
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Thanks for the compliment
We can walk freely with our head in the heavens, if we make sure our feet are soundly upon the earth.
Wishes and dreams never control the result only our hard work and good fortune.
Love, Tom B.
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There is magic in this, but shadowed by the clipped wings, also things that disappear...and yes, like Daedalus, the flight echoes in a loss of pinions. Was he not the one who's wings melted when he flew too near the sun?
Tethers and dreams..... from a birds-eye view.
love, K.
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We give up things to attain our dreams. We have no control over those we dream of and often they set us free so they can be who they are. When the dream is lost are we not fools for waiting?
So yes, there is joy and sadness in this. Daedalus flew too close to the sun in the joy he had over his freedom, inspite of all of his father's warnings. The wings melted and he plunged to his death. Typical Greek sense of wonder and tragedy.
Love,
Tom B.
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Superb
A very fine write, indeed. Imagery; rhythm, and rhyme are just fine. Thanks for sharing this one with us.
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Thank you
This is a poem for the dreamer to land, aware of how life can become a fantasy.
Peace,
Tom B. -
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You are quite welcome.
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Bravo!
Fine lines these...
Life is not going to change.
No matter how hard the heart is
squeezed with dreams, we don’t
get to vote on the truth,
That is truth.
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This is the fulcrum the poem teeters on.
Peace & Light,
Tom B.
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Okay i think i have discovered what your words are saying,
It's here in these lines that i can see her:
She always has a story. She is
the damsel stolen with a spell.
Stolen away love yet wishful thinking to be there again. Sensual beauty found in each line but alittle saddened.
Amazing writing
my dear friend.
Love
~Lisa P ~
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Life is a salad tossed with the bitter and the sweet. We can focus on one or the other or just delight in the rainbow of tastes and colors.
Love, Tom B.
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I must read over for some reason i am thinking fishing lol ...always a student lol
I shall read again after i look up Daedalus..giggles
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I love Greek mythology. Ate it up when I was in 5th grade. I forget that not everyone else was.
Fishing or kites. Often the same thing.
Love,
Tom B.
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