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AlienGirl Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Wed Jul-30-03 10:51 PM
Original message
Early Evening Poetry Thread
Two of my roomies are in Kentucky dealing with a family emergency and the third's at work. I have TMBG's Pink Album cranked, and I just realized the neighbor and I have only half a language in common and I don't even know how to tell her her nasturtiums are beautiful. I feel lonesome and wistful. So here comes poetry. Wistful, lonesome poetry...

The Lost Thing

Sometimes in early evening
you'll think of it again:

it's always there
just out of reach
like a taste you almost remember
or a song you once knew.

Somewhere people are singing
but you've lost your way. Lost your song,
your shoes, lost your hair, lost
your books, lost your home, lost
everything once or twice already.

What's one more? Add it
to all the piles of lost things.

Tucker
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GoddessOfGuinness Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Thu Jul-31-03 12:23 AM
Response to Original message
1. I have piles of lost things under my nose...
but I rarely go through them. I might come across things I wanted to lose.

I need to be more organized.

I need a pile of lost things that I don't want to find again, and a pile of lost things that may come in handy in the future...

:-)
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noiretextatique Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Thu Jul-31-03 01:15 AM
Response to Original message
2. let there be love!
i have but one wish
let there be love
bathe my soul
in the colors of love

deep within...the heartspace
where god lives
where love begins
where love remains
where the colors await
their soulmate
bathe my soul in the colors of love

the yellow glow of love's warmth
the orange beat of love's intensity
the red brilliance of love's passion
the blue depths of love's peace
the purple radiance of love's majesty
the green aura of love's patience
the white shadow of love's pain
the black light of love's dawning

deep within...the heartspace
where god lives
where love begins
where love remains
where the colors await
their soulmate
our souls bathed in the colors of love

i have but one wish
let there be love
fill our souls
with the colors
of the rainbow

@2003 karenx
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noiretextatique Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Thu Jul-31-03 04:42 PM
Response to Reply #2
3. kick
i am so :grr: right now...i could use a little poetry. someone help me out.
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thebigidea Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Thu Jul-31-03 04:46 PM
Response to Reply #3
4. poetry towards a nervous breakdown:
http://terminalproduct.com/OEPbookone.pdf

Follow safety instructions. Do not linger on pages. Burn quickly.
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noiretextatique Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Thu Jul-31-03 09:24 PM
Response to Reply #4
13. great stuff...
it will take me a few days to read it all, but i am impressed so far. thanks :D
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Snow Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Thu Jul-31-03 04:59 PM
Response to Original message
5. Okay, let's try these....
I didn't know till now.


Sowol Kim
That the moon rises nightly, in spring or fall,
I didn't know till now.
How much I'd suffer from longing
I didn't know till now.
That the moon is there, no matter how bright,
I didn't know till now.
That the moon is foe all the sorrow
I didn't know till now.

And

Unable to Forget


Sowol Kim
Unable to forget, you recall your love;
Yet let life pass away, though in pain.
One day you may be able to forget.
Unable to forget, you recall your love;
Yet just bid the years to slip away.
Unable to forget, you may still forget a little.

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GoddessOfGuinness Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Thu Jul-31-03 05:07 PM
Response to Reply #5
6. Welcome to DU, Snow!
And thanks for the poems...
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Snow Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Thu Jul-31-03 05:25 PM
Response to Reply #6
8. Thanks -
if you like the poetry, check out the man's circumstances - he wrote during the occupation, and was involved (who wasn't) in the resistance, yet still came across sounding at heart optimistic. Typical Korean!
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GoddessOfGuinness Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Thu Jul-31-03 05:10 PM
Response to Original message
7. Eloquently Unspoken
No kiss was ever sweeter felt
than that which never brushed my lips.
No words of love were truer professed
than those dangling, mute,
amid the spaces of our conversation.

We love simply,
and simply love,
refraining from action as yet...
delightfully lost in a fog of
sublime inertia.

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noiretextatique Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Thu Jul-31-03 08:44 PM
Response to Reply #7
9. GOG...this is simply lovely
and tender and beautiful. thank you for sharing it.
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GoddessOfGuinness Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Fri Aug-01-03 12:26 AM
Response to Reply #9
19. Thank you...
Pleasure's mine. :-)
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Purrfessor Donating Member (463 posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Thu Jul-31-03 08:52 PM
Response to Original message
10. OK....here's mine.......
If my cat's life depends
on my writing the perfect poem
within the next ten minutes
blesséd be his soul.
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GoddessOfGuinness Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Fri Aug-01-03 12:45 AM
Response to Reply #10
22. Meow meow, meow meow ch'owmrowow
Cookie liked that.
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newyawker99 Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Fri Aug-01-03 12:25 PM
Response to Reply #10
24. Congrats Purrfessor!! 200 posts
:toast:
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listenup Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Thu Jul-31-03 08:54 PM
Response to Original message
11. If
If I could see a feeling
I don't think I would look
still staring up
at a ceiling
and reading the words in a book
if I could see
I wouldn't look
I'm not kneeling.
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Benevolent_Rabbit Donating Member (184 posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Thu Jul-31-03 09:21 PM
Response to Original message
12. kick - cause I like it
.
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ACK Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Thu Jul-31-03 10:40 PM
Response to Original message
14. The wait
So there it was,
just a thought
irresistible noise
locked in my head
as I wait.
One could blame it,
a dozen things
irresponsible bit
of worthless anxiety
of wanting.
The fidgeting begins,
noiseless anger
irritable gripping
over nothing at all
no reason.
Why?
Only one thing hits,
quite simple really,
its her face there
locked in my mind
as I still
wait.
Only the thought of,
seeing her hits me,
its the curves of
her hips drifting
as I still
wait.
Like an impatient,
child spoiled by the
love I do not dare
to deserve or
dream to
ever be
able to
fully
return.
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ACK Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Thu Jul-31-03 10:43 PM
Response to Original message
15. The crash


Racing,
Running
Streaking by
Like a Flash
of brilliant speed
mucked and jumbled
at the speed of light
streaming through the cathode tubes
as I manipulate my reality
with a rodent in my hand
dreaming in overdrive
at over a hundred megahertz
files upon piles
I can't get it all
I can't get enough
And like a speed freak
when it goes down
the world stops
everything
goes black
cursing
into nothingness
as I just sit
here
thinking
SHIT!

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ACK Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Thu Jul-31-03 10:54 PM
Response to Original message
16. A dream of reptiles and things
I was sitting at
the Somber Reptile
eating a Po' Boy
listening to the punk
dreaming of that girl
with the tatoo in
the small of her back
and the green hair
glowing in the odd light
just a dream of
a simple moment
in odd places
with the smell of
cajuns and serious
gators and silly
sounds as I kick up
the Chucks into the
chair next to me
and order another
round of the 'Rock
for myself and
the punk rock girl
I have not even
met yet.
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ACK Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Thu Jul-31-03 11:08 PM
Response to Original message
17. Just another Southern dream of escape
A lowcountry boil sits
in the pot and the smell
of the crawfish and
the seasonings burn
your nose and the
cornbread rises
in endless ovens
across the reach of
your mind and the biscuits
call for the buttermilk
and the BBQ sauce has
the tang of vinegar
and broken dreams
of sharecropper hopes
out here on the edge
of the collard greens
and sweet corn with
the hog's head still bobbing
in the brunswick stew
here in the pine tree
wastelands and the
lovely pastel Charleston
streets houses float
out there like the
delusions made as the
rain tinkles down endless
on top of the tin roofs of
Mississippi Mud Pie dreams
Where is my shotgun shack gone?
Where is bluegrass delta-blues
elation of getting out of the
dreamy hell of the oppresive
heat of the pit of the place
that I left so long ago.
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noiretextatique Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Thu Jul-31-03 11:15 PM
Response to Reply #17
18. nice work, ACK
thanks for sharing them. funny, poignant, wistful, longing...i feel you in each piece :hi:
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ACK Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Fri Aug-01-03 07:45 AM
Response to Reply #18
23. Thanks for the comments
I had to rush to work today because the Southern Dream was something I just wrote of the top of my head and I wanted to save it off to disk. I forgot to do that at home last night and before I left this morning.

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GoddessOfGuinness Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Fri Aug-01-03 01:54 PM
Response to Reply #17
25. Are you from Charleston?
It's one of my favorite cities. We visited often when I was a kid. Your poem reminds me of the disparity between wealthy and poor that was so evident to my eyes then. I don't remember much of the middle class; but my recollections of huge manicured mansions and run-down tin-roofed shacks are incredibly clear.

Thank you for this...
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GoddessOfGuinness Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Fri Aug-01-03 12:27 AM
Response to Original message
20. Inspired by the Blues Man
What mysterious light is this?

cast cool upon the ears
yet penetrating to ignite the soul...

captivating Sorrow
and weaving it into Life's melody
with simplicity so complex...

i am divinely inebriated.


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AlienGirl Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Fri Aug-01-03 12:44 AM
Response to Original message
21. More poetry
Narrative from Fragments: 1

Covered in thick canvas
at the edge. What is it?
Why, compost, they said.

The trees must
eat something to thrust their branches skyward.
Logic of dream says: but
you're going to lift the edge--you need to know
what force powers these leaves, these branches.

In a moment he'll be behind you
and you'll turn.
He'll point to what you've found and say:
you'll be there soon enough.

Tucker





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