Beautiful Madness

twin hues of
green and blue
light and pain
align in the portrait she paints,
a lovely bitter face.

And she wonders....


is it a symptom of madness

to find such beauty swirling

around all that
sadness?



Note- The picture comes from Write Words Writing Club

see me in the chipped paint.

smell me in the dirt, the dust, the musky smell of
rot-
in this place that time forgot.


You loved me not.
For you ran out, and ditched me on the side of this dirt road
long, long,
before
the end of breath in me.

Feel me in the breeze,
haunted angry screams rip through
the trees

yelling about lust, discarded dreams and us-
yelling about trust, discarded dreams and us.



Note- This was written for Poetry Thursday. The idea was to write a poem inspired by a picture of your own choosing.

My photo came from here,
a site with pictures that are in the public domain.

The artist who took it is named Clarita

you hold your image of me
in your hand
like water

fluid

leaving me shivering
biding my time
till you open your hands

and let me flow away

Sabrage

a
cacophony
of high low rumbles
jumble
through the grey light matter

forming a seeming contradiction.

"Don’t say this is true,
let it be fiction," unspoken dry mouthed words you say,
clutching hands you pray, pray, pray.


The Desert With No Rain grows a tree of knowledge
and you

see the carnage, see the carnage,see the carnage


and know the truth.



Note- This was written for Poetry Thursday. The idea was to take a word and make your own definition for it. My idea was to make Sabrage describe the moment when your mind reacts to finding out about a life changing secret. Grey light matter is supposed to be your brain.



Sabrage, in actuality, describes the technique that is employed when a saber is used to open a wine bottle.


Wikipedia defines Sabrage

Blue Green Colors Flashing

You are a blue green goddess that
floats

You are the jagged, twisted face of
hope

You are hanging in the air, close to
God

could you touch him if you tried?
could you pray for me tonight?

whisper in the wind and make it all
alright

all right to be just who I am.
all right to not give up my sin.
all right to cry most every night.
all right to be too weak to fight.

You are the blue green, jagged twisted
beauty uplifted, far away yet home,

goddess that floats.


Note_ Title comes from a Stevie Nicks song.

This was written for a challenge at
Write Words Writing Club

God Made Red

Hot as city sidewalks
on the last day of July.

It looks just like death
and bleeds just like life.

The color of kisses,and broken
skin, and lies.

The color of rage
exploding behind your eyes.



Looking like the
inside of a volcano’s belly,

roaring like a dragon that’s hungry.



It’s a hue that keeps coming, coming, coming,
suck you in
and
take you deep inside,
get you hot, hard, and ready
til it’s banging in your head, head, head,

and all you hear is


red red red red

Red.



Note- This was written for Poetry Thursday. The prompt was Red, which happens to be my favorite color. I thought of doing a poem that was less literal but I wanted to do something was a tribute to the color. For years just the sight of it is enough to bring a smile to my lips.

The Beauty Within

With fluid lines that flow like glass
and subtle curves that glide and mask
your shrouded secrets that sound
like the past

from which the world began.

Blue white foam
roars through your vessel
coming home
rolling until it lessens
again and then again and again and

again

whispering about dreams of sand.


Note- This was written for Poetry Thursday. The idea was to write a poem that describes something beautiful without revealing what the subject matter was. Check the comments to see the answer to the object this poem describes.

Poetry Carnival Poets

To love creating poetry is to love showing your soul to the world. These poets have shared parts of themselves with the world at large, through their poems. Read and enjoy:

Delaleuverse, a blog from Cathy
What Sister Thinks

A Doggy’s Life, featuring the work of Dogfaceboy.
Factors


Square Traveler
Later Days



Wm. Rike’s blog Arcane Matter Out Of Time
Teen Angst Remembered

CrimsonFlaw who maintains a set of three blogs maintained on the moods that constitute different
pangs of supposed creativity
book of the unrequited



Mad Kane's Humor Blog
Those &^%$#$% Auditions



Kilroy_60 at Fear and Loathing- The Gonzo Papers
Finding My Rhyme in Time



Rax’s blog, SOUL'S PHANTASM
Chasing the Equal Sign


Kevin who blogs at Acoustics, Health & Sufism
It’s like being connected to an ocean


KGT’s blog is called When I Wax
Hoary


Ron Russo at Just Be!
I wrote a poem once


Tiel Aisha Ansari who showcases her poetry at Knocking From the Inside Out
Twenty Years Ago, Yesterday


Katy from SomethingKaty
my golden right



Brain from Truth is Freedom
Cold -a poem that relates to our ongoing struggle between all of our selves.


Billy Jones
Dreams Lost Along The Way Home


Naomi Stevens blog, A Dairy from England
Life
Life

Jillbeth who displays her work at her blog called The Broken Cup: Christian Poetry
Sacrament





Hope you will take this chance to visit all the poets listed.

If you submitted by Feb 14th and do not see your blog here let me know.

There is another poetry carnival coming up. This one will be hosted by the link exchange site I run,
Poets Who Blog




If you want to take part, submit by Feb 23rd to IlovetowriteSMP@yahoo.com


Thank you

Cell Memory

A bone remembers a break
a tongue remembers a burn
skin remembers the cut
and still I never learn

the pieces of me know

but keep it
from
the whole

the parts of me do make
a mismatched
crazy shaped

crooked girl

a mouth recalls a kiss
a scar recalls a burn
skin recalls the slice

and still I never learn
I never learn


Note- This was written for Poetry Thursday. The prompt was: The body knows...

A Dark Chase

It matters....
he was....

my first man,
drifting in and out of the shadows
through darkened parking lots I
sought him,
chased his bitter soul down
down
down
the maze his twisted mind made

He never knew how I craved
simple, normal things.
He was broken and then he
broke me.


And though I learned
to trace every crack in his
psyche
and his every stain became my own
he remained aloof
an empty man,
hollowed in all the places
I needed to find solace.
and soon I was too.


But
It doesn’t matter....
he did it....
no, he didn’t....
change it all to suit me now
my first man wasn’t anything like that.


Note- This is my Poetry Thursday contribution. The theme this week was change. I wasn't feeling inspired to write something new ( this has been a pretty down week for me) so I posted this poem that speaks of changing memories.

A Trivial Soultion

a trivial solution
lacking common sense
lacking any value
you give it no merit.

you give me no merit.
you laugh with
daggers in your eyes.

and all those times I longed to
make you see me,
wither

into fragments

of broken memories.

turning to
ashes,

turning while you are laughing,

laughing, laughing

all the while.


Note- This was written for Poetry Thursday. The prompt was to use a mathematical term to inspire a poem. If you knew me, you would know, how ironic it is that math could inspire anything but loathing in me.

Here is an explanation of the term I used



Trivial

Poetry Carnival

Would you like to find more readers for your Poetry blog?

In the spirit of meeting new poets and getting exposure for as many blogs as possible, this site will be hosting a Poetry Carnival.

The idea is to send in a entry with a link to your personal favorite poem on your blog.

I will list all of these links on February 17th. The deadline to submit is February 14th.


The Rules:

1. Submit one post from your poetry blog.

2. The poem must be in English.

3. Send your submissions to IlovetowriteSMP@yahoo.com

Each post should include:

The name of your blog.

Your blog's URL.

The name of the post and it's corresponding URL.

Your screen name.


This idea was suggested by Kilroy at

Fear and Loathing


Check out his blog for an interesting read. Right now he is running a Blog Carnival that aims to promote any type of blog. Jump in and take part!

I write therefore...

I love you, poetry, because you are mine. You belong to me like my breath, my blood, my bones. I adore the way you flow, a river over cold smooth stones, and how you dip and drop ten thousand miles to the ground you fall, fall, fall, letters flying through the sky. Words shooting through the night, and when the right one finds me, I breathe and come to life. Poetry, my goddess laying down to be adored, I love you for what you give: these words prove that I lived.


Note- This was written for Poetry Thursday.

All Poets Invited to Connect

I have started a new project. The aim is to grow a community of poets who will read, comment, link and support each other's efforts. Will you lend your help?

http://poetswhoblog.blogspot.com/



I wanted to say thank you to Billy the Blogging Poet for this


http://bp411.blogspot.com/2007/01/sara-pufahl.html


He is working tirelessy to promote poets who post their work online. Check out his site at

http://bloggingpoet.squarespace.com/

She

She moves with an air
of
unbearable sadness,
and limbs heavy as

thousand year old tree branches.

She is unclaimed,
unforgiven,
not chosen,
not living.

She lays on clean, white sheets
in a cool, dark room
and drifts off to

sleep
away

what was supposed to be her

life.

A Grave Thing

Gravity wraps me in greedy arms,
pulling me under the tide
drowning me in the waters
of my own
damn pride

you always had to be right
you always had to be right
you always had to be right

and I can hear you now,
beneath this bitter slice of moon,
as you croon
your
lullaby

and it goes

you always had to be right
you always had to be right
you always had to be right

it ricochets off the walls of the night
you always had to be right


NOTE- This poem was written to take part in Poetry Thursday. The first line comes from Deb R.

You can find her poem at
http://debrichardson.com/blog/2006/08/03/poetry-thursday-inspired-by-song/

Many thanks to her for the inspiriation.

My hands are tied

strings latch my limbs,
tying me in knots,
making what I am not

all that matters


sentences you say,
can not change a thing,
can not make the truth

all that matters

dizzy lost time,
tugs the course of my life
till what I want to deny is

all that matters


and all that matters is....

my hands are tied



NOTE- this poem is inspired by a post at Poetry Thursday. This is my first time responding to one of their prompts so I hope it was done in the way the poster intended.

A beautiful bride?

she only wanted simple things
to grab her slice of the American dream

like her mama
and the ones before
before, before

she only wanted to walk home
and in her door
to smiling faces on bodies two feet tall

and each night fall
to sleep
in arms that would hold her steady,
steady, steady

she only wanted simple things
to get a slice of the American Dream

but he left
like the ones before,
before, before....

and simple slipped through her fingertips
once more, once....


like before, before, before.

Fade to Blue

It started with an explosion,a flash of light killing blue,
and soon the whole damn world knew

it was the end... of time.

And so I rushed, ran through the streets, ran wild as the toxic breeze,
to get back to your side.

Without surprise you reached for me, as if you always knew, as if this was just a script-
the last scene coming true.

The minute stretched, and yes oh yes that minute was divine, then the sun turned coal, and we.. and earth.. and love... all ran out of time.

NOTE- This work is part of an excercise at New Writers and Readers Blog. There is a link to the group in the sidebar.

Murder Your Darlings

this isn’t the kind of thing you can get in
or out of
without blood on your hands,

without
stealing breaths, without regrets, without
paying.

don’t get in this trade and think you can
stay clean.
it’s not that kind of thing.

it's
soul spilling

and someone always gets

hurt.