From the ashes: Favorites

Sep 8 From the ashes

One day I do

Sep 8 From the ashes

Krista Delle Femine

One day I do

One day I will choose
To quit you
But it won’t be some day soon
And I’ll probably keep saying that
Until one day I do

Sep 8 From the ashes

(Explicit) my bf lives/works time zones away/double digit hours

Sep 8 From the ashes

brandychanning

(Explicit) my bf lives/works time zones away/double digit hours

and still I have to stop and think, is it forwards, backwards, and do they know about Daylight Savings TIme, saving who from what,
I jokingly ask myself, to give my sweet angst, a a better coloration,
though these days, constant comets pass over us daily

but he is savvy smart, and yes, extraordinarily ****, and  knows my routines (he thinks), better than me, so when I drive  to  run in Santa Monica, alternating days, he texts in simultaneous harmony a minute after my too early alarm has me stumbling into semi-Cali-
quake-fulness

we are years apart, not so many that it's remarkable, just big enough gap, to make life problematical; his  career launched, serious guy,, me well, i'm a perpetual student, when not modeling, and my mom, GBH,  and my over pestering, now single parent, demonstrate her mathematical abilities by telling me how closehow close  is 30 is when one subtracts  my "aging pores," & how little sleep she gets because she in in her EST zone

but when he calls, he calls at irregular times, "to better gauge my mood," how he, my day surveils, so he can adjust to my chemical imbalance, an area of his expertise; and its sweet, and it works, and too often, I ramble while listens, for his day is ending, and mine is far from fulfillment

he is European, full of genteel words and english language quips,
especially since he believes he can still sway with his sophisticated
endearments;  but what he doesn't know in the late afternoon, his bedtime, while  he is conducting a sweet nothing roundup of   adoration, my hand slips between my legs, and my envisioning of his lean, broad body being in my interior so tight, for I have crossed my crushing legs behind his back pushing him inside, it nearly makes  breathing impossible

HE LOVES MY SOfT TONES, at this hour, my distracted noises, til he says you sound so tired, I'll let you go; and I willingly, comp-licitly, give him my heated best love notes, and teary gasps, when I mumble
see you soon, thinking in my dreams, for I know his schedule, and exactly when I'll be landing and exactly how long it will be,
till we, are within each other, without any interference, of lairs and
sun flaring interruptions,
from time
and space, those scientific laws of this tiring
annus horribilis

#explicit #bf #brandychanning

Sep 7 From the ashes

Anchor of Blue Planet

Sep 7 From the ashes

Agnes de Lods

Anchor of Blue Planet

The scattered words disturb the silence.
I prefer written pages with my left hand,
But it is trembling too much to write slowly
I miss him, his calm hands giving juicy oranges.

Shattered glass falls in slow motion,
Screams in the apartment,
Just the neighbor next door.
Another struggle,
Another soundless fracture
From the outside,
It’s not visible
What really hurts.

I have my refuge.
My piano and fingertips
Strike the rhythm,
Racing to speak in time.

What I want to repeat to myself
It isn’t lush or gentle,
Only barren,
like thoughts hung on a dry twig.
I trace figure eights,
Locked in a simple shape.
I stare and cannot fathom
The logic of a cold two plus two.
A thought-form circles
Around the blue planet.

Something pointing,
With its mercury finger.
It speaks in an unknown dialect
It shows the place to live
And huge fluorescent deserts.

The clouds’ minds —
A piece of earth
Soaked in different
Kinds of screams.

This is my blind chance.
I was born here.
In my mother’s paradise garden
Spinning in dawn’s glow.
Sometimes I just write
To ease personal and common guilt.

I hear tattooed numbers,
Granting citizenship of the lower caste.
And here,
The fresh scent of good life in the morning.
Blackbirds and thrushes fell silent.
My mother knows how to speak to them,
I know how to speak with trees.

Everything pulses,
On this small piece of earth,
Giving shelter to creatures
And stones no one throws.
I am here in a place I can happily bear,
Without cold speculation.

I can still dive into metaphors,
This is my greatest luxury,
The gift after so many disturbing lives.

It would be better to create a world
With only diverse breathing gardens.
I don’t need too much for living,
A naked soul is enough for me.

So, I am sitting in this landscape
And I peacefully hope
That my daughter will remember me tenderly
As I remember him, my father
And all who passed away.

The simplest thing is
The presence of every human being
It's like a celluloid film strip
Left behind the broken ribs
In the left ventricle of the heart
That never lies, never cheats me.

#anchor #blueplanet

Sep 7 From the ashes

Too Much

Sep 7 From the ashes

Maddy

Too Much

It is not about education
Ignorance
Stupidity
Perhaps acceptance?
To think that every aspect of life does not change is ludicrous
It could improve or get worse
Going forward is optimal
What is and what was should learn from the other
Some don't learn
Reason does not matter
Or does it?
Excuses
Resistance
Too much

Sep 7 From the ashes

Poet's Prayer

Sep 7 From the ashes

Maddy

Poet's Prayer

Let the words and flow come
Be prepared to remember or jot them down
Be honored and hone your craft
Be proud you see things differently
You are sensitive and unlike the rest
High maintenance in ways they never would accept or understand
Be grateful
We want the world to be a better place
Poet's Prayer

Sep 7 From the ashes

Policy of Containment

Sep 7 From the ashes

Carlo C Gomez

Policy of Containment

It's everybody's job.

Détente, rollback, middle-ground.

Working it until an internal weakness is found.

Surround the town with wire.

Eventually their voices will tire.

It does not work with fixed plans. It does not take unnecessary risks. Impervious to the logic of reason, and it is highly sensitive to the logic of force.

For this reason, it can easily withdraw—and usually does when strong resistance is encountered at any point.

From the 'Checklist Before Commencing on a Dream.'

https://hellopoetry.com/poem/4793791/checklist-before-commencing-on-a-dream/

#containment #resistance #strength #weakness #force #failure

Sep 7 From the ashes

The Tangerine Sky

Sep 7 From the ashes

Thomas W Case

The Tangerine Sky

Some poems seem to write
themselves;
I just move the pen.
Others are like lumps
of clay;
they refuse to be molded;
they need moisture and time.
This one is like
a robin that just learned
to use its wings.
It heads west, on a
gentle breeze, into
a tangerine sky.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aMbrfKP2H38
Here is a link to my YouTube channel where I read my poetry from my latest book, Sleep Always Calls. It is available on Amazon. The latest video I did is a poetry reading at the Clear Lake Public Library.

#poetry #writing #art

Sep 4 From the ashes

Feathered Stone

Sep 4 From the ashes

Thomas W Case

Feathered Stone

Your love is like a frozen bird, a
feathered stone falling from the sky.
I wish it didn't die.
It should be flying, and soring, and
healing, against the warm blaze of
the afternoon sun--weaving and
diving through the coolness of the clouds.
But it's gone, and all it can do is
plummet and take a few more
birds out, on its way down.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aMbrfKP2H38
I did a poetry reading and book signing at the Clear Lake Public Library. Here is a link to the video on my YouTube Channel. My books are available on Amazon. They are Seedy Town Blues Collected Poems, It's Just a Hop, Skip, and a Jump to the Madhouse, and Sleep Always Calls.

#life #love #pain

Aug 31 From the ashes

Ode to Tobin

Aug 31 From the ashes

Thomas W Case

Ode to Tobin

He rolls like the
river,
always on the move.
I said,
"What are you afraid of, boy?"
He said,
"Nothing; I just can't stay still."
I said,
"They got meds for that."

It's in my bones, I gotta
keep going.
Knapsack ...no sack,
don't matter, just me and
those highways.
I said, well, it cost you everything;
your house, your wife,
don't you want to settle
down sometimes?
Nope, he said, as he turned
his back and headed west
towards the desert.
His face to the sun.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VsFfqF7Cuhc
Here's a link to my YouTube channel, where I read from my poetry books: Seedy Town Blues, Collected Poems; It's Just a Hop, Skip, and a Jump to the Madhouse; and Sleep Always Calls. They are available on Amazon.

#brother #ode #vagabond