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Jun 23, 2012
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SUN A COWLICK
down we walk
the afternoon block
The howl of the moon
crisp like a welcome
dime
behind the tired roof lines
she shines
Thirst you say
initiates
travel
Into the shade
The coveted cafe
chrome formica
and couchs for
slouching
how you shine
in this cavern
room
while outside the
small street slips
cars full of gleam
the coffee house scene
About This Poem
Editing Stage: Editing - rough draft
Comments
judyanne
13 years ago
love this
wonderful descriptive esker
took me there
as usual - nothing to crit, simply to enjoy
i really loved the intermittent and near rhyme
- especiallly 'couches for slouching'
love judy
xxx
weirdelf
13 years ago
this is becoming a habit "yeah, like judy said"
I'll only add that I am loving seeing you grow into forms you haven't used much before. It's almost as if you have been participating in the workshops. Do you think they are contagious? Next you'll be working with meter.
love this piece especially, it shines with the reality poetry of Bukowskie and Ginsberg.
Nordic cloud
13 years ago
connections that surprise us.
My mother called
her underskirt 'my slip.'
Atmospheric beginning,
a walk, a poem
coloured by the light
of the moon
How you make our minds work,
they find themselves in strange
unknown corners
and there they see connections
that surprise us.
Ann.
Esker
13 years ago
...................................................*...**.....*.
"Yankee, Hotel, Foxtrott " excerpt from Conet project..
sipping coffee
raining
creatures of habit
sometimes its a breath
of fresh air to create
a variation in habit
The Moon is in the sky in afternoon
(happens sometimes) People
see this and make exclamations
Howls or Ohhs
faint but there
Number stations
my latest infatuation
(along with mermaids)
Ian.T
13 years ago
Steve
This reminds me of a place in the mind called Sanctuary, a place where things are not questioned but just are, enjoy this place as I did your write..
Yours Ian.T
Esker
13 years ago
Here we are shifts again
and missing poet entries..
this is hard on my eyes
Im old
I read the missing poet work
and loved it
We are poets
we fall in love with Poets
and poetry
we feel and thrive
strive in pathos and chaos
and order
resltess or sleeping soundly
where ere yea be
cast a shadow in the day
and may yea find a friend
in the mirror where the
stranger stands!!
Nordic cloud
13 years ago
Shifting reflections
Stranger in the mirror
smile at me or give a sign,
I know you are benign
and will not move,
until I do,
like lover's do
as wooing empty skies
with sighs we drink the image
there,
an image of imagination,
real,
our minds entangled
in the sinews
of collisions
in the dark,
they find that unexpected
spark of life,
in what's considered inanimate
and dead,
the face that passed
the periphery
of visions,
not mere glass
its properties reflecting
back our fears,
our years of study wavering
in undulating sight,
as if we lost the grip
of what is light,
the hopes and dreams
forever wound in one,
deep down,
high up
and under
conscious thoughts,
you moved,
I saw you now,
so strange,
so wonderful,
until the understanding
takes its part,
and reveals
the inner feelings
of my heart
Ann.
Esker
13 years ago
Dear Ann (My Ann)
how I revelled in your poem
drinking in the words
Im parched
depression has me in its throes
the emptiness
the lonliness
I cannot fight the foes like this
Im weak and wounded
and yet shall I climb again
and greet them
ah my freind I love your classic
mind
the thoughts and visions of your
life you lead still
and now
you city and land
how I would love for you
and your man and I to take
a walk so you could share
with me the affordable views
you partake in nature
maybe this would still
the calamity upon me
that growls from the dark
whom knows
I was thirsty and now
lay back
thank You!
Nordic cloud
13 years ago
That was quick
I only just wrote it here,
I wrote it off pat as 'they' say!!
Because your first phrase above it
made it appear.
Your vision are evocative
for my mind
and goad it into top gear
I drive the ball down the freeway
of thoughts
into the gorse bushes
and mires of the realms of poetry
dipped in the brine of brittle shards
turned frozen the mirror of ice floats
melted into the visions
of grey veiled shadows
deep in the heart
stirred into words.
take heart dear Wolf,
your days are not numbered,
you hold the pen of wisdom,
write with it
and let its poison
turn to wine,
you don't need drugs,
you are the drug
of your own thoughts,
cast them on the surface
of the sheet of green grasses
and let the winds make them dance
in your familiar manner,
wild with the wildness
of wilderness animals
ghost figured
into the sunlight
to dissipate your fears
and fantasies
Your Ann of nature..
Any more I can write in an e mail!=
Ian.T
13 years ago
Steve
Love that stranger,
that gazes at you
from shaded mirror.
Think not
that his expectations
are greater than yours.
Just hope he loves you
enough to tell you truths.
There as you turn away
is a pathway,
stretching to eternity.
Walk as a child.
Think as a man.
Never tread alone,
thought can go
to the far reaches.
No need to hurry,
there is no time.
Constants are folded
Theories are broken
Truth is everything
Look again in the mirror
What do you see Now...
Have a great day and know that we are all fellow travellers, in this tiny space.. Yours Ian.T