Kiss the Sun and burn my lips Blissful pain, blistering love, Blinding light reveals everything, No shifting shadows, grotesque exposure. Tempted by its golden shimmer, Though toxic fumes melt my lungs This paradoxical paradise Will be my heaven yet.
I will hold the Sun within my arms And melt my body to it. First my flesh and then my soul That I may become a part Of this Golden Globe Which lights the World.
Extinguish me that I may glow. Destroy me that I might grow. And learn to live… Without myself.
Big mountains! Clear and quiet river crossing between strong mountains. Colorado River! You are there and see the creation. God has touched this site. Enormous stones, trees, shrubs. In addition, wildflowers near you. Buses, trucks and cars were there, That day when I visited you. They were taking photos of that area. Marvelous area of the USA. The sky with clouds, the rain came in. A big bird flying on the sky. People were taking the best view, the best scene. Big mountains! Nice view! Beautiful site!
Sometimes after I lost my father I’d lose my mother.
Days leaked into summer after they zipped his black body bag- she slipped away, clipping the enormous yard for the first time, the lawnmower awkward, like pushing bricks.
Knuckles white, hands swollen red, her soft pink t-shirt clung to her back. Tears dripped from her eyes, like sweat.
Her white Keds stained green, she stopped to empty the bag, bare arms shining, lungs hungry. “Get the garbage bag” she yelled, I did and rushed to her. Bent down, face dripping, she struggled with the pregnant bag, broke the silver latch, sliced her hand.
She sunk the wound between her lips, eyes closed, kicked the bloated bag over and over, until globs of green peppered my bare feet.
“I’m-not-supposed-to-be-doing-this!” she yelled to the clouds, slumping to the sticky lawn, fists diving into the pile, blonde hair fuzzy from heat.
I stood clenching black plastic, the smell of cut lawn thick in my nose, I missed my mother, my parents.
She snatched the balmy plastic, plunged her arm deep into the chopped grass, began stuffing.
I watched her drag the fat body bag to the curb, fresh blades of grass stuck to her sweat. I lost her in the driveway mirage, yelled for her to wait, not to leave, not to climb inside.
I'm not an American and have never been there but I thought I'd enter anyway for the state that I have the most connection with because my only cousin lives there. This poem was written in honour of the work done recently by the University of Arizona into rheumatoid arthritis
Spice of Life
Joints begin to seize And movement is pain But never fear Help is at hand
A natural remedy To an age old problem Is found in the West From a source in the East
Eat curry Yes eat curry I don’t know which Just make sure it contains the vital ingredient
Kiss the Sun
ReplyDeleteKiss the Sun and burn my lips
Blissful pain, blistering love,
Blinding light reveals everything,
No shifting shadows, grotesque exposure.
Tempted by its golden shimmer,
Though toxic fumes melt my lungs
This paradoxical paradise
Will be my heaven yet.
I will hold the Sun within my arms
And melt my body to it.
First my flesh and then my soul
That I may become a part
Of this Golden Globe
Which lights the World.
Extinguish me that I may glow.
Destroy me that I might grow.
And learn to live…
Without myself.
We retain the rights to this poem, and it is copyrighted 2006 as intellectual property of Visionary Mavericks, Inc.
ReplyDeleteThank you!
One
Words can't touch
love shared by two
belonging to one, eternity
Tastes like pure water
just as clear
sky of te amore
(ohm)nidirectional in beauty
(ohm)nipresent in life
(ohm)nipotant, wholy, everything
Layers differing in color, flavor
along flowing starlight
dreamed so distant
everlasting gobstopper
in hard candy shells
unbreakable
Unspeakable the magnitude
unseen the ends
beyond imagination
No different than God
on the mighty throne
at the center of everything
eating light
consuming space
bending time
more powerful than
all black holes
in all their infinities
Beginning end
alpha omega
neverending circle
indestructable
undenyable
unbelievable
Everywhere
in everything
IT IS...
This heaven.
This reality.
One and only.
Our love.
One loves worth
ReplyDeleteWorth more than a picture,
Worth more than first prize,
Worth more than your gratitude,
Worth more than my pride,
Worth more than open arms,
Worth more than a warm smile,
Worth more than a goodnight kiss,
Worth more than the final mile,
Worth more than chalk drawn caves,
Worth more than a simple verse,
Worth more than this scribbled page,
Worth more than our beautiful words,
Worth more than a first love,
Worth more than a last breath,
Worth more than the end of it all,
Worth more than whatevers left,
Hers are the eyes that hold existance itself,
and without my image reflected in them,
there could be nothing else.
Copyrighted Dan Scouten 2004.
Here's my entry!
ReplyDeleteOh yes yes (a poem)
mascarpone
its intrusions into fantasy have taken hold of a new strength
becoming a talisman
(fetish may be too strong a word)
i can give it life, touch and taste
and locate it halfway past my dreams
in long sweet smears
delineating the no mans land between two girls as they kiss
i'm not poet enough (or man enough) to place myself in between
(not even here)
but the wish remains
and the mascarpone is sweet and rich
like one grain of pepper making all the difference on the perfect steak
but you're not just meat to me, honey- oh no- and not you either, honey
you're the grail at my wit's end,
because i know you're out there, you two
waiting patient and wild
wearing the mascarpone with a grin
GRAND CANYON
ReplyDeleteBig mountains!
Clear and quiet river
crossing between strong
mountains.
Colorado River!
You are there and see the creation.
God has touched this site.
Enormous stones, trees, shrubs.
In addition, wildflowers near you.
Buses, trucks and cars were there,
That day when I visited you.
They were taking photos of that area.
Marvelous area of the USA.
The sky with clouds,
the rain came in.
A big bird flying on the sky.
People were taking the best view,
the best scene.
Big mountains!
Nice view!
Beautiful site!
LETICIA PONTONI-COPYRIGHT 2006
Losing My Mother
ReplyDeleteSometimes after I lost my father
I’d lose my mother.
Days leaked into summer after they zipped
his black body bag-
she slipped away, clipping the enormous yard
for the first time,
the lawnmower awkward, like pushing bricks.
Knuckles white, hands swollen red,
her soft pink t-shirt clung to her back.
Tears dripped from her eyes, like sweat.
Her white Keds stained green,
she stopped to empty the bag,
bare arms shining, lungs hungry.
“Get the garbage bag” she yelled,
I did and rushed to her.
Bent down, face dripping,
she struggled with the pregnant bag,
broke the silver latch, sliced her hand.
She sunk the wound between her lips, eyes closed,
kicked the bloated bag over and over, until
globs of green peppered my bare feet.
“I’m-not-supposed-to-be-doing-this!” she yelled to the clouds,
slumping to the sticky lawn, fists diving into the pile,
blonde hair fuzzy from heat.
I stood clenching black plastic, the smell of cut lawn
thick in my nose, I missed my mother,
my parents.
She snatched the balmy plastic, plunged her arm
deep into the chopped grass, began stuffing.
I watched her drag the fat body bag to the curb,
fresh blades of grass stuck to her sweat.
I lost her in the driveway mirage,
yelled for her to wait, not to leave,
not to climb inside.
lost again
ReplyDeleteI’ve found my own way; so I thought
learned I’ve learned nothing
searching for meaning
maybe a soulmate
seems I’m wrong just when I though
weren’t you with me holding my hand
you let it go, it seems not
quick to find a soulmate
still now I press on
through dreaming day’s night
with me holding my hand
I'm not an American and have never been there but I thought I'd enter anyway for the state that I have the most connection with because my only cousin lives there.
ReplyDeleteThis poem was written in honour of the work done recently by the University of Arizona into rheumatoid arthritis
Spice of Life
Joints begin to seize
And movement is pain
But never fear
Help is at hand
A natural remedy
To an age old problem
Is found in the West
From a source in the East
Eat curry
Yes eat curry
I don’t know which
Just make sure it contains the vital ingredient
Turmeric
© Luke Harrison 2006