A Poet's Voice - Hello Poetry

Apr 2018

Lady RF - Rosalie Fayad

Fine delicate wings
Of Organza,
Chiffon,
Satin and Lace,

Flowing ever so gently -
A heavenly dance
Portraying such elegance
And grace.

Velvet hues
Of Crimson,
Majenta,
Turquoise,
And Teal,

Breathtakingly exquisite,
Out of this world--
Ethereal.

Dainty,
Magically enchanting--
Incredibly surreal.

An amazing spectacle
Of extraordinary--
A wondrous delight;
Uniquely rare
And very, very, real.

~Butterfly Wings.
By Lady R.F. (C)2018 ⚘

Apr 2018

r

Constant Stranger

I visualize you
who I will never know,
Constant Stranger
I call you, I imagine
you when I write
and to think, you
will never know me
like the few who
I am close to, those
who say: I don't
understand what you
are talking about,
but I know what you
mean...you know
there is no other poet
on earth like me
and I know there is
no other poem in the uni-
verse just like you
and every two folks
have there own way
of loving, the poet
and the poem know
what they like, like
the kind that takes us
into different and strange
countries until we realize
at midnight, we are alone,
you and I, Constant Stranger,
anonymous mates whose love
can never be consummated.

This poem speaks of love between the poet and the poem not yet written, but wanted in the way we find ourselves wanting that anonymous, perfect lover somewhere out there in the uni-
verse. Or something like that. You may not understand what I'm saying, but I hope you know what I mean, Constant Strangers, poets and poems all, friends in our uni-verse, write me that perfect pome.

Apr 2018

SøułSurvivør

Queen Of The Night

Empress of cacti
Queen of the Night
She is resplendent
A fairie in flight
Glowing... a phosphor
With her inner light

The moon, her companion
They dance in the dark
Wooing and spooning
A'courting a spark
But they'll hearken to morning
Yes... they'll soon part...

They mourn at their parting
Such is their plight.

Her face alabaster
Her fingers so slight
She's proud and she's perfect
Her shoulders pure white
Of noblest bearing

The Queen of the Night.

SøułSurvivør
(C) 3/26/2018

Dedicated to Cathy Wolfson, a dear friend.

The Queen of the Night is an orchid cactus. It's huge white blossom only opens at night to be pollinated by moths & bats. We have a variety of it in our yard... it's a wondrous sight in the moonlight!

Apr 2018

Nat Lipstadt

the three r’s (one last one for r)

~one more for the r man~

almost Monday
and its weighty five day oppressive lead poisoning on the horizon,
is but a thirsty thirty six minutes away from its fortified Sumter, first shot to be fired at midnight, how we love to mark the commencement of hostilities and killing

but I am already wounded, a casualty of having spent evening with pleading, pleasing timer eating, reading of your work,
r

the sounds of inestimable admiration and infectious jealousy
make this old man eager to discard a lifetimes work and
begin fresh, but only as a copyist of you,
r

I know you’re thinking "what in the hell is he blubbering about?"

so I willingly will my confessional offering in the dark of the
holy bedroom; for you make me eat my words, and
spit them out as wastage, in dumbfounding humility

god you and yours, make me frail and blessed that I stumbled
upon your abbreviations of the human life,
r

shut up and accept my three r’s
reading ‘riting and rising
up to sing hymns of praise
for a man with a historical perspective and
whose few occasionals
are carved in the granite bench
of what makes my life
worthy of load bearing;

more than bearable,
all are soul-enlightened by
baring our humility, our admiration

11:24pm 4/15/18
nyc

read the poet r;
and
https://artsofthought.com/2018/04/17/inside-a-poets-mind-an-interview-with-poet-and-archeologist-rick-r-richardson/

Apr 2018

spysgrandson

memory number three

I found you, in a stack of photos:
the 2D you, I can't touch, taste or smell

the first thing that came to mind was sharing a joint with you and spilling the chocolate ice cream cone on your skin-******* shorts

and sneaking into the Woolworth bathroom, and our freaked frenzied scrubbing of fabric with nimble fingers and pink powdered hand soap

and how we couldn't stop laughing
until a woman older than time caught us
before we could consummate

which we did after running the entire
200 yards to my van, wet white shorts in your hand, with me looking over my shoulder for imagined narcs and other freedom snatchers

when we finished, we shared my last Winston, blowing smoke rings in the gathering gloom

your shorts were dry, and our high
had worn off--you didn't kiss me goodbye when I dropped you off

between your pad and mine,
I hit a black mongrel pup wandering on the dark asphalt

I scooped him off the road
with my hands; lifeless, light he was...

I found you, in that stack of ancient
photos--that was the day we conceived a son, one you had shredded in a doctor's office for $300 in illegal tender

I see the messy ice cream, your naked nineteen year old flesh, smoke rings disappearing, the poor mutt dying

though not for lack of trying, I can't see the child you had executed in utero--without trial, judge or jury, save an elusive dream
of freedom

Albuquerque, 1967

Apr 2018

James Floss

SPRING HAIKU

Cherry blossoms fall
Spiraling to verdant green
Color contrast: spring!

Mar 2018

Ignatius Hosiana

Hurricane

You're a warm current
and am a cold one
we make a beautiful
hurricane together
but am not getting
****** back into
our disaster.
We were sadly beautiful
but I guess that was then.

#love #heartbreak #lonesome #melancholy

Mar 2018

James Floss

RE: Impressionism

It already happened
As we Rembrandt
The past

Monet mostly
Manet subtlety
We take a turn at Turner

Mix colors wisely
Coruscating joy
Blue, red; touch of green

Deep hue
Dip lightly
Dab the canvas softly

Mar 2018

Nat Lipstadt

the half-life of a resolution

the half-life of a resolution

~for maaidah durrani~

“your words really spoke to me and
i deeply encourage you to write more”
<•>
any resolution
barely lasts to the completion of its
flyby, tower-buzzing,
razzmatazz appearance,
colliding with the wall called
not today a/k/a,
tomorrow

tomorrow takes the lead pole position,
the conditional timing prepositional,
the delaying exscual misanthropic of
but one more,
whatever, it’ll keep for 24 more,
holding out the pretense of hope
for the resolute dissolute

sure, for sure, tomorrow,
will dissolve regret
tomorrow will write of poetry
but not a poem,
tomorrow will swear my
resolutions will be enacted
or, at least,
erased and re-written,
the oldest first when
re-added to the top of the list

tomorrow
will honor thy request
keep on writing for I’m no fool,
1200 plus poems, I’m yet a novitiate
I will keep your request as
one I’ve can never
cross off my life’s list

but tomorrow’s resolve,
be a better man,
leaner, briefer, kinder, a better lover,
sadly
the list has overrun the white pad,
the blue lines refuse another resolu....

#half #life #resolution #lipstadt