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Toil and succour
Moderators: Gary, riverwriter, Poetry Moderators
- Jabberwhacky
- Moderator
- Posts: 1193
- Joined: Sat Mar 18, 2006 12:12 am
- Location: San Diego
- Contact:
Re: Toil and succour
Dragon friend, or dragon foe?
This the pyress must know;
fire-soaked blood in breath,
in vein, susurrations of death,
as some with disdain forego
crooked lanes of Nazareth.
Like tortured eternity rejects
a fable-scaled beast's aspects.
Q- Stirred emotion in a pot-pourri,
Is that all that love can be?
This the pyress must know;
fire-soaked blood in breath,
in vein, susurrations of death,
as some with disdain forego
crooked lanes of Nazareth.
Like tortured eternity rejects
a fable-scaled beast's aspects.
Q- Stirred emotion in a pot-pourri,
Is that all that love can be?
- olson29
- Renga Wrangler
- Posts: 1280
- Joined: Tue Mar 31, 2009 1:02 pm
- Location: Aotearoa, California, Louisiana, Florida [phpBB Debug] PHP Warning: in file [ROOT]/vendor/twig/twig/lib/Twig/Extension/Core.php on line 1236: count(): Parameter must be an array or an object that implements Countable
Re: Toil and succour
She still remembers her greatest orgasm.
She looks out the window and giggles. A little
moisture dews her surfaces and non-surfaces. The
things around her exist without existing. She wonders,
how could he do what he did; now is the time,
she left the wall world to find him, the emperor of orgasm.
He was the emperor of heart, detail, and knew exactly
how to love her, she faced the truth and confronted her fears.
She found him figuring out the differences
between strands of sand on the shore. "Our magnet
has brought us back together." "I want you to discover every
speck of my water." He stared into her eyes and communication
surrendered. He held her on the shore, as the waves soaked them,
the sands changed and moved. Rain sang. She cried into him, he confessed
the love he had been too afraid to tell her before. Wet strands on shore.
----
unsmeared, who are you without your fears?
She looks out the window and giggles. A little
moisture dews her surfaces and non-surfaces. The
things around her exist without existing. She wonders,
how could he do what he did; now is the time,
she left the wall world to find him, the emperor of orgasm.
He was the emperor of heart, detail, and knew exactly
how to love her, she faced the truth and confronted her fears.
She found him figuring out the differences
between strands of sand on the shore. "Our magnet
has brought us back together." "I want you to discover every
speck of my water." He stared into her eyes and communication
surrendered. He held her on the shore, as the waves soaked them,
the sands changed and moved. Rain sang. She cried into him, he confessed
the love he had been too afraid to tell her before. Wet strands on shore.
----
unsmeared, who are you without your fears?
you are poetry
- Cat Sith
- Renga Wrangler
- Posts: 1084
- Joined: Mon Dec 26, 2005 2:06 pm
- Location: New Jersey, U.S. [phpBB Debug] PHP Warning: in file [ROOT]/vendor/twig/twig/lib/Twig/Extension/Core.php on line 1236: count(): Parameter must be an array or an object that implements Countable
Re: Toil and succour
unsmeared, who are you without your fears
Reckless
Unbound, unfettered,
unleashed, full-leathered,
wild and wired,
the nightbird escapes.
Full darkness - the eve,
a plan she conceives,
frenzy and chaos
her only desire.
She feeds on the needy,
the hungry and greedy,
pathetic and putrid,
she treats them the same.
The nightbird she loves them,
she strangles and hangs them,
exposes and clothes them,
it's all just a game.
Q. Why do birds sing at night?
Reckless
Unbound, unfettered,
unleashed, full-leathered,
wild and wired,
the nightbird escapes.
Full darkness - the eve,
a plan she conceives,
frenzy and chaos
her only desire.
She feeds on the needy,
the hungry and greedy,
pathetic and putrid,
she treats them the same.
The nightbird she loves them,
she strangles and hangs them,
exposes and clothes them,
it's all just a game.
Q. Why do birds sing at night?
- Jabberwhacky
- Moderator
- Posts: 1193
- Joined: Sat Mar 18, 2006 12:12 am
- Location: San Diego
- Contact:
Re: Toil and succour
Q: Why do birds sing at night?
Faceless Philemon chants a strain,
plaintive tantivy out of sight;
shy expression of fear, of pain -
a warble like some lost refrain
singes the bosom of the night.
Gulchein* lays a trap again,
he knows that in this fading light
she will not dare - she will abstain,
launch her crepuscular campaign,
seer his bosom only at night.
*- hunter.
10th letter of the Queen's alphabet,
her name from much before we met;
she arms herself with quill and ink:
'And what is your story do you think?'
Faceless Philemon chants a strain,
plaintive tantivy out of sight;
shy expression of fear, of pain -
a warble like some lost refrain
singes the bosom of the night.
Gulchein* lays a trap again,
he knows that in this fading light
she will not dare - she will abstain,
launch her crepuscular campaign,
seer his bosom only at night.
*- hunter.
10th letter of the Queen's alphabet,
her name from much before we met;
she arms herself with quill and ink:
'And what is your story do you think?'
- Cat Sith
- Renga Wrangler
- Posts: 1084
- Joined: Mon Dec 26, 2005 2:06 pm
- Location: New Jersey, U.S. [phpBB Debug] PHP Warning: in file [ROOT]/vendor/twig/twig/lib/Twig/Extension/Core.php on line 1236: count(): Parameter must be an array or an object that implements Countable
Re: Toil and succour
little j
The bluest jay I'd ever seen
flew through abandoned
warehouse beams,
darted up and in between
the rafters and began
to sing.
The story was both long
and true, of how the
little jay turned blue,
the pigment
saturated through:
the breast, the eye,
the wing.
Her song went on for
near an hour,
she told the stones,
the weeds, the flowers,
her little voice
increased in power
all for one
pure hue.
Enchanted by the Witch
of Where (she’d flown
into her secret lair),
“t’was her”, she chirped,
“yes She declared,
that I should be
most blue”.
Q: What of the ocean?
The bluest jay I'd ever seen
flew through abandoned
warehouse beams,
darted up and in between
the rafters and began
to sing.
The story was both long
and true, of how the
little jay turned blue,
the pigment
saturated through:
the breast, the eye,
the wing.
Her song went on for
near an hour,
she told the stones,
the weeds, the flowers,
her little voice
increased in power
all for one
pure hue.
Enchanted by the Witch
of Where (she’d flown
into her secret lair),
“t’was her”, she chirped,
“yes She declared,
that I should be
most blue”.
Q: What of the ocean?
- Jabberwhacky
- Moderator
- Posts: 1193
- Joined: Sat Mar 18, 2006 12:12 am
- Location: San Diego
- Contact:
Re: Toil and succour
What of the Ocean?
Restless commotion
what of the ocean?
Surf and saline, a
plenitude of brine;
shameless self-promotion!
Nothing else is the ocean
Narcissistic devotion
that is the ocean;
shore, sea-shell and sand
an endless tussle with Land.
Quite the Devil’s potion!
That is all is the ocean.
Q: More of a rhetoric than a retort,
Is the sea really boiling hot?
Restless commotion
what of the ocean?
Surf and saline, a
plenitude of brine;
shameless self-promotion!
Nothing else is the ocean
Narcissistic devotion
that is the ocean;
shore, sea-shell and sand
an endless tussle with Land.
Quite the Devil’s potion!
That is all is the ocean.
Q: More of a rhetoric than a retort,
Is the sea really boiling hot?
- Cat Sith
- Renga Wrangler
- Posts: 1084
- Joined: Mon Dec 26, 2005 2:06 pm
- Location: New Jersey, U.S. [phpBB Debug] PHP Warning: in file [ROOT]/vendor/twig/twig/lib/Twig/Extension/Core.php on line 1236: count(): Parameter must be an array or an object that implements Countable
Re: Toil and succour
Devil's Fall
Blood gushes downward
staining once-white bones,
the bones of those judged,
sorted, and cast by the minotaur
into this horrid pit.
Long lost.
Long forgotten.
Endless, the falls --
macabre sanctitude
perpetuates the sin of murderers.
Powered by the boiling river,
ever thunderous, ever suffocating,
the stench roils faithfully,
cools and slushes,
towards the frozen
heart of Dis.
Q. Poached fish anyone?
Blood gushes downward
staining once-white bones,
the bones of those judged,
sorted, and cast by the minotaur
into this horrid pit.
Long lost.
Long forgotten.
Endless, the falls --
macabre sanctitude
perpetuates the sin of murderers.
Powered by the boiling river,
ever thunderous, ever suffocating,
the stench roils faithfully,
cools and slushes,
towards the frozen
heart of Dis.
Q. Poached fish anyone?
Re: Toil and succour
I don't eat fish,
though I might steal them.
Iridescent
scales, I must feel them,
then toss them back
into the water.
I saw a mermaid,
but haven't caught her.
Q: What would I do if I did?
though I might steal them.
Iridescent
scales, I must feel them,
then toss them back
into the water.
I saw a mermaid,
but haven't caught her.
Q: What would I do if I did?
- Jabberwhacky
- Moderator
- Posts: 1193
- Joined: Sat Mar 18, 2006 12:12 am
- Location: San Diego
- Contact:
- olson29
- Renga Wrangler
- Posts: 1280
- Joined: Tue Mar 31, 2009 1:02 pm
- Location: Aotearoa, California, Louisiana, Florida [phpBB Debug] PHP Warning: in file [ROOT]/vendor/twig/twig/lib/Twig/Extension/Core.php on line 1236: count(): Parameter must be an array or an object that implements Countable
Re: Toil and succour
I take "the road less traveled," everyday.
There are roads, without earth and the conformists
cannot find them. Ah hah, I massage my feet
and walk around laughing instead of talking. I have
at least 37 different laughs, that's enough ways to
communicate. I made love to a mermaid, I drank her,
it's true. Able, all I want to do is be the best, that's all.
I need you, because I'm not the best without you.
I drink wine with Emily Dickinson, she shows me more than her poems.
I come inside Princess Tajima, balancing the interiors.
I want to be crazy, I can still get away with it. Enjoy it.
I'll show H.D. what Ezra never could. Marina Tsvetaeva and I
escape to New Zealand, her body feeds the clouds, we make love
wherever we want to, she's a bad girl, down for anything, and Jill Scott
tells me, "What you do is krazy, babe, not like you belong in an asylum--
krazy." I can't help it, I want to taste your implosions,
I want the most prude to get too rude, stripping down taboos, until
the asexual come inside themselves. Virginia understands.
Anaïs Nin and I trade untellable stories in the French fog.
I give Sylvia Plath something to live for, naked, we edit poetry.
Janet Jackson asks me, "If I would mind." I Tell her that song does
not end, I'm that good; I last as long as I want to, because it won't
always be this way and I want to stay inside, because I'm already inside.
Buh, buh, buh, dew, dew...
How crazy are you?
There are roads, without earth and the conformists
cannot find them. Ah hah, I massage my feet
and walk around laughing instead of talking. I have
at least 37 different laughs, that's enough ways to
communicate. I made love to a mermaid, I drank her,
it's true. Able, all I want to do is be the best, that's all.
I need you, because I'm not the best without you.
I drink wine with Emily Dickinson, she shows me more than her poems.
I come inside Princess Tajima, balancing the interiors.
I want to be crazy, I can still get away with it. Enjoy it.
I'll show H.D. what Ezra never could. Marina Tsvetaeva and I
escape to New Zealand, her body feeds the clouds, we make love
wherever we want to, she's a bad girl, down for anything, and Jill Scott
tells me, "What you do is krazy, babe, not like you belong in an asylum--
krazy." I can't help it, I want to taste your implosions,
I want the most prude to get too rude, stripping down taboos, until
the asexual come inside themselves. Virginia understands.
Anaïs Nin and I trade untellable stories in the French fog.
I give Sylvia Plath something to live for, naked, we edit poetry.
Janet Jackson asks me, "If I would mind." I Tell her that song does
not end, I'm that good; I last as long as I want to, because it won't
always be this way and I want to stay inside, because I'm already inside.
Buh, buh, buh, dew, dew...
How crazy are you?
you are poetry
Re: Toil and succour
Kimmy, Kimmy, tell you true
No one rhymes as good as you
Marry me. Come be my spouse
We'll run away and build a house
Up in a tree, up in the sky
To get up there, we'll have to fly
Like butterflies, or bumble bees
Or maybe we can jump like fleas
Up Up Up Up! Oh, happy day
Just you and I, we'll rhyme and play
Q:What's your game, little girl?
No one rhymes as good as you
Marry me. Come be my spouse
We'll run away and build a house
Up in a tree, up in the sky
To get up there, we'll have to fly
Like butterflies, or bumble bees
Or maybe we can jump like fleas
Up Up Up Up! Oh, happy day
Just you and I, we'll rhyme and play
Q:What's your game, little girl?
- olson29
- Renga Wrangler
- Posts: 1280
- Joined: Tue Mar 31, 2009 1:02 pm
- Location: Aotearoa, California, Louisiana, Florida [phpBB Debug] PHP Warning: in file [ROOT]/vendor/twig/twig/lib/Twig/Extension/Core.php on line 1236: count(): Parameter must be an array or an object that implements Countable
Re: Toil and succour
Her tears puddle in her hand,
she is the only one still alive, with her
sadness she tries to starve, yet, drinks
her tears. The birds whisper in sympathy,
her trembles in tune with the life of her heart.
She remembers turning the magazine pages,
seeing American girls, safe and beautiful.
She remembers listening to Sade, her fathers
safe smile. She remembers escaping with her family,
the slow bullet could not withstand their hope.
She remembers her mothers eyes and drinks
another puddle from her child palm. When
escape was impossible, the bad men raped
her father, raped her brother, then raped
her, they raped her mother, they all watched.
She is the only one alive, too weak
to move, she breathes again.
Hear we are, where you are, reading, somewhere,
how will you help the people that need your help?
How will you help the people you can help?
she is the only one still alive, with her
sadness she tries to starve, yet, drinks
her tears. The birds whisper in sympathy,
her trembles in tune with the life of her heart.
She remembers turning the magazine pages,
seeing American girls, safe and beautiful.
She remembers listening to Sade, her fathers
safe smile. She remembers escaping with her family,
the slow bullet could not withstand their hope.
She remembers her mothers eyes and drinks
another puddle from her child palm. When
escape was impossible, the bad men raped
her father, raped her brother, then raped
her, they raped her mother, they all watched.
She is the only one alive, too weak
to move, she breathes again.
Hear we are, where you are, reading, somewhere,
how will you help the people that need your help?
How will you help the people you can help?
you are poetry
Re: Toil and succour
Fairy Tale
I'm Kari, Kari
quite contrary,
an ever-moving line.
I'm Kari, Kari
quite contrary.
Don't cross me,
and we'll be fine.
The question is: Are you lost?
I'm Kari, Kari
quite contrary,
an ever-moving line.
I'm Kari, Kari
quite contrary.
Don't cross me,
and we'll be fine.
The question is: Are you lost?
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