e goforth: Favorites

Aug 2016 e goforth

for lena s (dedication poem inspired by her poetry)

Aug 2016 e goforth

beth fwoah dream boleyn

for lena s (dedication poem inspired by her poetry)

in a tea house
a jasmine girl
plays a piano
shimmering a
song of soft keys
to a lotus blush
of fine infusing leaves.

morning, the jewels
of dawn’s filigree nets
a summer storm
in a wintry sky
coaxed out of
a melody of
incense, trembling
to the infinite
blossom of
tranquil, arching
skies.

your poetry, the
cadences of the sun
unwrapped,
the light of the
ocean
breathed
in,
beautiful moons
that weep for
life’s joys,
wild summer
in our hearts.

this poem is inspired by the beautiful poetry of lena s and in particular a series of 'tea house' poems she wrote a while ago that i particularly loved. if you've not read her poetry do check it out i'm sure you will find it as inspirational as i do :) this poem is a response to a dedication poem that lena wrote for me very recently called blossom divine which you can find on my pages.

#poetry #dedication #lena

Aug 2016 e goforth

vignettes

Aug 2016 e goforth

beth fwoah dream boleyn

vignettes

i.

the grass in the meadows
has grown high,
it melts like an emerald
sea under the sun.

ii.

summer stretches
robotic and angular
everything larger than life
sunshine and the childish rains
pouring stormy drops
on the window.

iii.

the sky is perfectly white
the cloud is an unbroken
line, no dots or dashs,
no hyphens or metaphors.

iv.

i dress in the morning and
undress at night let the
pools of the night tether me
to the sky.

written a couple of weeks ago

#rain #summer #sunshine

Aug 2016 e goforth

is this a wasteful wish

Aug 2016 e goforth

Lisa Mendoza

is this a wasteful wish

i have already embraced
that sadness lives somewhere
in my heart that often crashes in
to say hello or it'll fade away in broken
beats of "I'll be back soon."
and i've already touched
my dried up skin as it cracked due to apathy, dehydrated from life and energy,
but i've yet to dare look
at my ghost, the one with
the happy sunshine times
and perfect family and wasted wishes
without fear of miracles dying,
the one who didn't know what it's like
to be one step away from breaking down
and who isn't practicing how to breathe
while standing on the shore,
the one who still stared at stars
instead of looking down at her shoes,
the one who has her head in the clouds
and her thoughts won't write suicide notes

i always say i don't want
to go back to the nightmare-filled past
but i secretly still hope
everything right now is just a dream

--L.m. please wake me up now or else i'll entertain the idea of sleep again

Mar 2014 e goforth

pieces

Mar 2014 e goforth

Winston Lee

pieces

I won't compare this love to planets,
the universe, or the stars
in the night sky
Because this love is not beautiful
This love is not harmless
It's cruel and senseless
Like a natural disaster
Leaving behind a million shattered pieces
That I know have to put back into place.

Mar 2014 e goforth

whisper

Mar 2014 e goforth

Mercy B

whisper

In the wake of my self destruction, when i thought all hope had escaped my reach , a whisper of a voice came calling deep with in the night.

Softly wrapping me up in tender words of encouragment, unbeknownst to me this voice had a goal to vanquish all my self-hatred by gently nudging me to rise up and  fight.

Willing me to stand and face the devilish hauntings that are relentlessly  stalking me ,constanly tring to creep through the past's closed door.

Pushing me to believe in my self and my inner strenght, validating that i can no longer hide from the shadows of uncertainty nor fear what they have in store.

Make no mistake it is painfully obviouse that I have only been treading water barely keeping my head above the surface just waiting for the current t o drag me under.

Stiffin up that upper lip and walk with your held held up high, almost maternally spoke this whisper of a voice, which is  now reigning down like thunder .

I had to work thru a bunch of things this past month. I know that I must stay on a positive path so here is my beginning of that journey.

Mar 2014 e goforth

Spreadeagled

Mar 2014 e goforth

Phillip ONeil

Spreadeagled

SPREADEAGLED

Bucharest,

Spread-eagled and naked

in her crop circle -

this one in a sunflower field:

she’s a wheel of limbs,

some sort of a *******

lusted after by the seed heavy

flowers bowing to her curves

like drooling surgeons.

She’s finished with running,

waiting for the fading light

to join the last of her loves,

faded with processed proclamations

of undying certainty

which were a little worse for wear

after courting

and checked into intensive care

soon after.

Love thought it had

ducked its obligations,

passed again

like a heavy goods train in the night,

shunted across the border

while guards waved it on;

interested only in sleep or beer.

But this time she’s making sure

love returns,

pays its duty and dues

and hits its target.

So, splayed

aryan and vigorous,

apeing a pagan

resurrection,

she waits

for the skydiver

who – with precision

confidence – happens

to be bearing down

on her charity target,

slowly filling her

with his ***** shadow.

She sunbathes under mirrors,

she’s a real

tough nut to crack.

I repeat myself into her.

Mar 2014 e goforth

From The Last Island: To Lady Elisabeth Verreet

Mar 2014 e goforth

Regina Derieva

From The Last Island: To Lady Elisabeth Verreet

Oval mirror of the sea,
age-warped isle waved and cloudy,
each angle crystalline and salty.
my lens into reality.

Point of space just visible,
focus of beams ineffable,
switch of signals transmissible,
receiver of voices inaudible

At time's edge. No need have I to shout
in fear about this death of mine.
And any creature here is glad
to offer you a glass of wine.

Mar 2014 e goforth

the silhouette of two girls kissing

Mar 2014 e goforth

mark john junor

the silhouette of two girls kissing

the silhouette of two girls kissing
deep into the caress
deep into the tender
like they are plundering with feather light touches
in the flickering lamplight
the music drips through the dark room
like the leaking of bobby dylans mind
his voice torn asunder with spoken tears
with the gravel of a thousand hard roads alone in the heat
of an unforgiving sun
the girls are wrapped tight to eachother
like bubble gum wrapped in satin
you cant cast aside such delicate force of nature
it will saunter down and ask so sweetly
for you to take a powder while the girls get nasty

i sit on the hood of her buick
primer grey and fast
as fast as thick blood
and watch the stars dance on the chrome
and breath the thick air and see death dance on my fingertip
but most of all i see her silhouette leaning down
over me and sweetly asking
for my last breath
put cowboy boots to pavement walkin into the future
dragging the past that she wants
into the motel of the sun with its neon moon
where these two lover girls lay out by the pool
and soak up the sun till the world is in darkness
soak up the love like cherry soda
and plunder

the dance slow on the bed
while i'm curled on the carpet
but there's no desperation to be found
except in poor bobby dylan as he drips
like fine wine from the speaker
and intoxicates my dreams
with her eyes
with her thin bright wet lips
and her softly sweetly asking once more
to give it up honey buns
gimmie your last breath
silhouette of two girls french kissing plundering tender
so romantic
so loving
so long bye bye

Mar 2014 e goforth

miscreants of shallow ditches

Mar 2014 e goforth

mark john junor

miscreants of shallow ditches

the grey sandy soil
gives neath footfall
as he hitches up his oversized jeans
and nervously fumbles with his broken glasses
a caricature of indecisive recluse

his worked hands covered in soils
grips and relaxes with the rise and fall
of the conversation
his tattered shirt haphazardly buttoned
has a lone cigarette sticking its bent form
from the lip of the pocket
like the last standing solider
content to remain till his fiery end

the ditch he labours in
stretches back in crooked line
along the fence
deep in places and shallow in others
like a drunken hedgehog making a shoddy home
he stops and looks back wiping the tide of sweat
from his face
and squints against the setting suns
brilliant golden light
mumbles some rational reason invented
and dismisses all concept of repair

this earthen work of the hobbled mind
shall remain into the windswept rain and years
slowly loosing its form
as the world itself shifts in discomfort
but the man himself will remain to memory
forever unchanged
a hearty laugh rich with the
earthen tones of life well lived
a man that remains forever in sunlight
a man among men
my friend