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 Sep 2016 KM Abbott
Bianca Reyes
Devouring the ravaging portrayal of arousal
Humming at tunes only heard and misunderstood
While forming science from abstract and holding
Pencils with dreamy hands enveloping haunting
And daunting beauty from within
As cerebral impulses begin exploding
Shared on Hello Poetry on July 21, 2016
Copyright © 2016 Bianca Reyes
All rights reserved
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Enjoy
May the road rise up to meet you
As you travel on THE WAY
May the music in your heart
Untangle the worries of your day

May old dreams be tossed
Upon that pyre of strife
And personal manifestos of peace
Ascend to take on life

And when the night closes in
Anxiety and bliss compete
Remember growth is hard my friend
Some truths come incomplete

In the meantime:

May you step easy o’er the rocks
That appear on The Way to defy
Keep in mind your destination
To reach that far-rimmed sky
This time last year I prepping to make my 1st Camino with a girlfriend from college. We walked the Camino Portuguese -- the last 100 miles. It was a time of sheer excitement at what was to come and after we completed our trip - two women carrying our lives on our backs raised a glass of proseco in the ancient town of Santiago - there was and remains the incredible feeling of accomplishment. I will do another Camino - most certainly.  This poem was written 6 months prior for a young man who wrote (on the Camino blog) of his life fraught with troubles that he knew would dissipate once he started his Camino. I wrote this with him in mind - and have since dedicated it to a dear friend who did her partial Camino last month. Bien Camino to all.
 Sep 2016 KM Abbott
Doug Potter
The possibility exists that on November 8th
a circus clown may become Ringmaster
of the World and that will be a *****
trick played on humanity by God.
Why should I entomb my hatchet
     after so much toil in the honing?
After all its blade excels alls measures
     for heft and keenness
and no finer tool can be had
     to strike the ultimate blow -
except perhaps the one you're holding.

So here we stand my friend
     ensnared by pride's inertia
with everything to lose
     but one or another's demise
within our imminent grasp.

Then without a sign or preamble,
     our eyes meet as if by chance
and in that unsought instant,
      the shame of forgiveness
saps our strength and sinew.
     Our weapons clang to the pavement.

Unless we're history's fools
     we know it seldom ends this way.
How much must we sacrifice
     before the worst we have been
can give up its sorry shade
     to the best our souls demand?
Transcendentally existential in-extremis extremity nuance.  Vicinity victual vigilante villain.  Propinquity habitation harbinger harangued.  Clairaudience clairvoyance agilely dexterous acuity, tactile coordination.  Feral phrenic frenzied ****.  Carousel ceaselessly ceremony chaos character charisma.  29th Psalm some holy spirit, the angel was a vision of resplendent beauty as it hovered in mid air above the knoll.  Apex axis crux and citadel pinnacle's peak.  And yet I would distance traveled time spent like to mitigate this of in to you.  What then is the essence of metaphysical mystique.  I say lets ethereally sublime be mesmerically enrapturing.  Ecstatically euphoric and climactically *******.  Let your vicarious recalcitrance revel in the prolific profuseness of my profundity as we lavish in our wanton abandon.  Though paw flaw laws are to claws aimed craw, horsefeathers are more proficient and surreal on the salaciously seductive.
in response to Bill Hughes' "Please Write"
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/1761792/please-write/
This is for that cold whistle and its tempestuous ring.
Come to greet me in your hardened sheen? O, You crystal empress--
blind as the night, and clear as the day can see.
 Sep 2016 KM Abbott
Doug Potter
It is hard to say father;
the thought of you stumbles through me when I see
a Gerber baby food jar or a wooden pop crate.
Once you came to mind when I saw a Polish flag
on TV; that is humorous because
the only Pole I know is a pale man at the gym
whose left eye is shaped like a rotten pear.
Do you still burn your fingers when you
fall asleep smoking in a recliner?  I hope
you still do not trim your fingernails while
sitting on the toilet stool; that seems so un-American.
Today is your eighty-fourth birthday;
I hope wherever you are you do not think of me.
 Sep 2016 KM Abbott
Doug Potter
Don't talk to the old man
on the ladder he's likely
cleaning eavestroughs

end to end full of leaves
kite string & black
beetles

He may mumble
teetering on the rungs
but don’t interrupt work

he has enough to handle.
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