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 Nov 2018 spartan73
Possum living
Bowing deeply, invited by the sound of a distant bell.

Sitting with the masters, or staring at the wall.

This silent illumination reveals equanimity in bedlam.

What is this?

It is not perfect, but we are in the business of efforts.

Softening the shell of our perceptions.
 Nov 2018 spartan73
The world might have problems
And they might be true
But I have many more issues
That I can tell you

For an example, this one day
I was eating a chip
But when I looked down
I was out of dip

I sat there a minute
And opened another can
But then I ran out of chips,
Another problem I can't stand
First world problems^^
 Jul 2018 spartan73
for you
--is a river
a revelation
a sleepless constant gift-- so out-to-see
in a flimsy boat
you built by mathematic rote and laced with ivy
to hold together ******* boards of crazy
with the ease of breathing
Your giant storehouse
Your granary of data
the grist of
You imagine wine
from mind
almost without limits
You command it all!
in the grapes of moonlight
with tides of words
Their endless-- almost blind
come-ons and gone
in waves!

(my sullen heart)....
still stays

I am digging here
in a low spot
seeking water
with robins and a sparrow
in the puddles
Awaiting rain
Flipping-off the muddy shallows with our wings
I suppose their songs
will count for something
Tasting happenstance
of bugs in flight
maybe catch a firefly or two
at the edge of day
Tearing half a worm
from weeds...the brown of drying grass
near the small lagoon
'neath my car
in an afternoon
too warm for flight
resorting to a place of shade
to smell the fresh-mown
sweet grass

Riding with my training-wheels
in the parade
Like a fool between those bikers' “Hogs”
Turning down my street
by mistake
laughing at the dead-end
of it all

Pulling poetry out my ***
This was not meant to make fun of you.
I so admire your writing (you know who).
I appreciate all you do for us, poets here.  
It was only meant to contrast
all our differences, and point out that anything can be
a poem, given a moment of insight and time.
This one took a morning into afternoon.

Items for a high school test:

1. Compare and contrast the two poets in this.

2. Find and explain two allusions/metonymies in this piece.
it's funny the things you forget
when asked for an 'interesting fact' --

you sleep on them for days
and exhume them from the ground
because they matter! so deeply!!
there's no metaphor that does them justice!!
it's poetry because it isn't!!!

i don't know my siblings.
my parents sleep in my dead grandad's bed
and i received his cupboards:
yeah, we're pretty much begging to be haunted.
let's be positive, it'd be nice to see him again.

thanks to reinforced childhood superstition,
i still pick up pennies from the ground
(yup, even with my germ phobia).

i used to write to the tooth fairy!
she warned me about gum disease.
her name was tiffy, but it turned out to
just be mum writing with her left hand.

as an internet-addicted hermit,
little me hated going abroad
since the only friends i felt i had were online.
there's thus a list of places to someday re-visit -
rotterdam is one.

i'd like to be somebody's muse.
if my life plan fails,
i want to work in a funeral parlour:
it feels as though i'd do it justice.

watching the same film more than once
just isn't something i do -- except grease --
exceptions can be made when it's on TV.

i mean, c'mon, it's grease.
(feel free to leave some interesting tidbits of your own life in the comments. you all seem fun enough.)
you can't make metaphors out of this stuff if you bother to write about it: they're just facts that are true. so let's chuck them all into a draft and call it a list poem. or free verse. or an experiment. hey, if 'anything can be poetry', so can this!
 Apr 2018 spartan73
Morning love
Tousled heads we hug
As alluring and beautiful
As a formal event
In coat and tie silk gown
Two hours of makeup
More even.
You in that negligée
Me au natural,
No airs put on when
Squintilly gazing at the bright break of morning with
Pillow marked cheeks
And hair awry. I think you are the picture in the morn of
Pure beauty and desire.
That kiss is our first one.
Let me wake you
With kisses
All over.
 Apr 2018 spartan73
 Apr 2018 spartan73

I kiss gravity,
& the light leaving my bones,
"This is how we fell."
Of the haiku series
ix. a toast to endless cycles

© Copywrite Skaidrum
 Mar 2018 spartan73
 Mar 2018 spartan73
In this life, feet catch fire
people burn

Remember your dream
it is your turn

You will see your ashes
you will manage to breathe

you sustain the flames
your dreams

Your ashes will float
shimmer like gold

You will rise as a
with wings to behold
When a cycle ends, a new one begins. Stay true to your dreams, persist.
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