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Showmanship September 30, 2013

Posted by findingherforte in poetry.
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Everything is dying
piles and piles of
colorful, crunchy corpses
litter the streets
It’s chaos
In the dark, when
dead things are hard
to forget
they are washed away,
pushed aside so that we may get on
with our daily routines
death lingering only in
our peripheral
and easily ignored

But if you ask me,
the pinks and blues
to come
are nothing compared
to a last minute attempt
at showmanship

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Apple Tree January 24, 2013

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On my best days
I still think about it
that place that exists only in my mind,
as far as I know.
I close my eyes and
I can feel the gentle breeze
and the grass tickle my ankles
There we have a house,
small but more than enough
We’re rarely inside anyways

We have a bed
and a tea kettle
and one apple tree that
sits outside our window
and taps the glass on stormy nights

We often look toward the horizon
where grass meets sky
and feel nothing but peace

The only reminder of the
world beyond our little house
is the occasional piece of mail
that finds its way to our mailbox
shaped like a bird house

I feel your hand reach for mine
and I smile because
nothing could make this any better

When I open my eyes
real life is blinding and out of focus
but if I squint just right
I can see our one
apple tree

 

 

Prophecy: Emerald City October 23, 2011

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When winds are agreeable
and the sky is clear
they will reunite in
the Emerald City
where, months before, nothing
could touch them;
our fiery star turned
their city into a gem
among rocks
and everyday was a dream
they never wanted to
wake up from
Alas, two lovers must part
but not for long

One sails north to find
better things
for his scholarly mind
to attend to
(while his heart lingers on her)
And if his search is fruitless
he will wait for things
to find him
If nothing else
he is patient
And when he grows thirsty
(as he often does)
he will think of nothing
but her voice,
like water,
whispering his favorite words

The other flies south
for the colors
and song birds
Flies south for her
own intellectual prospects,
expensive but promising;
when the days seem long
she will take it as a challenge
and fill the hours with music,
(sad but beautiful)
And when the sun no
longer warms her
feathers, she will long
for her northern star
more than ever

earthly unrest October 13, 2011

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Fresh rain
on warm cement
the scent of what
went in the night
when you meant
to sleep longer hours
between blankets in fright
of the light that will die
when days become cold
and the air much more
bold, tightening our hold on
the layers we’re told will
keep our blood warm
and conquer the storm
that looms overhead
I dread an arrival that
is simply unheard of. My
musings unsaid will hide til
the spring when flowers
give way to the colorful things
But for now, stay inside til
the raining subsides and
the colors don’t crunch
quite as well as I’d like

 

Liquid Courage August 18, 2011

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Dearest Champagne lips
you dream of grandeur
of romantic times and romantic places
and are often disappointed
You are far from steady ground
and it crumbles beneath your feet with
every drink:
The foundation of beauty upon which
your worldly view lies,
The lens through which you capture rare
instances of radiance.

Although you are on the brink of destruction
your biggest fear is drowning in your own tears
and a broken heart,
the most treasured part, torn to pieces
and left on the floor, forgotten
There must be something in the air
that’s making you feel this way
The darkest places, although full of unknown,
may be hiding the greatest treasures
And when all else failed and the ground
started to crack
Love took your face in both of his hands
to protect you from the outside pitter patter
(threatening to pull you under)
A kiss told all of your secrets
and he loved you more still

For a heart in strong hands
has no worry of falling
no matter how uneven the footing

Stream of Thought July 21, 2011

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Hey Momma you’d be so proud
of me. I know it’s hard to
believe but my
creature fear has disappeared
for better or worse
a boy with a coin
and a dream in his heart-
love: from the start
of his hand holding mine
and a kiss that defines
what love truly is-
swept me off my
earth dwelling feet

Make a little room
for this build up
of hope
to smother your fears
I know it looks grim
but I’ll light the way
with a torch in each hand
to brighten the eyes

No wolves in the garden
hungry with greed
to swallow the seeds
of all our hard work
beneath all the dirt
is life, after all
above it is air
and a lone lily
stands, firmly and free

wake me gently
to leave my dreams
floating
oblivious, unknowing
to my firm, reaching hand

Day Dreams March 27, 2011

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A fate so cruel
for dreamer to wake
to find that it’s
Monday
and the heart needs
to wait

And in the crazy every
day
stop and go
for reasons unknown,
I forget.

A touch of electricity
to power up this heart
to charge up these parts
that depart
when your sad eyes
round corners, smoothing
the edges
of vision that’s blurred
I can’t find the word

So I’m left feeling hollow
like a lead with no follow
or a chord without melody
but if you were here
you’d find me a remedy
I know.

Reunited our love will explode
in so many colors
in extravagant wonder
with lightning and thunder
My eyes will open and so
will the skies
to realize
my demise when the
sun starts to rise
and I don’t see your
eyes staring back into mine.

The line is so fine
between dreaming
and real
when the love that
you have
give dreams no appeal.

When February 15, 2011

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Will we be the
same
in body and mind
when the sun lifts
its head
to prepare for the
grind of the
day to day
normality
we fear the mortality
that we face on
those days
that are dismal
and grey
but you pull me
in close
and I can’t help
but smile
because it might be
awhile, but I know
you’ll be there
to breathe in the dark
and to catch all the
sparks that ignite
between palms
attacking in
swarms
your eyes are
my guide
to those places
of peace
I’m finally at
ease with
the now and the
then and
the possible “when”

Treasure Hunt September 2, 2010

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Hand to hand
now our futures are one
life lines and love lines
pleasantly tangled
a jaunty jigsaw
a warm squeeze
reminds the forgetful
of everything they possess

the gentle sound of you
living, breathing
in the cold, morning air
I want to remember how
your breath feels on my neck
and how your hand lies
still on my waist
a smile playfully appears
as awakening thoughts
float lethargically into your
dreams

Golden, boyish curls on a
sunburned neck
soft, evening kisses
where freckles would be
and my head fits just right
I could lay here til
some cosmic force
ends us all

if I had my way
I would.

Pen Pals May 15, 2010

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It’s been awhile
hasn’t it?
Sitting in on my
life
watching me,
loving me
All the while
putting up with
a bad hostess.
Me.
Where are my
manners?
Please don’t think
I’ve been ignoring you
(you’re hard to
ignore)
It just hadn’t
crossed my mind
to offer you a
cup a tea
(frivolous, I know)
or to strike up
a decent conversation
(why would the
weather interest
*you*? It’s merely
a brush stroke
in a work of
art)

While, in the back
of my mind,
I’ve never thought you
absent,
I haven’t really
*seen*
you lately
Perhaps I haven’t
been looking
A figure with no
definition
At least,
none that we
can all
agree on

Pen pals
suddenly silenced
Tragic, really.
Except, you’ve definitely
been writing
You’re always
writing
(Never knowing
the curse of
writer’s block.
All knowing, huh?)
I haven’t been polite enough
to take the time
to write back

I’m so sorry.
Oh, how silly
of me.
Apologizing like
you haven’t already
forgiven.
You’re always
one step ahead.
I guess that’s
how you got the
job

Pardon me,
I’m rambling.
We should do
this again
sometime.
You’re such a
great listener
and I’m always
up for talking

I’ll be sure to keep in touch.

Tell Jesus hello for me,
Christine