#fountain
I used to enjoy
Writing with and collecting
Vintage fountain pens.
~ Poetictouch
May 24
May 24, 2026 at 6:28 PM UTC
~
*The language between us
Begins without a word
This love is translucent
Settled near water
Or at least in memory of water
And outside of me
In the liberation of rain
Flow subliminal messages
Tossed like coins
I can only hold out to you
The here and now
This current place in time
Everything before or after
Resides in cloud cover
Unable to insure safe travel
Though I often wonder
What it tastes like*
~
Nov 15, 2025
Nov 15, 2025 at 4:04 AM UTC
I sat by the fountain,
watching the sun play out
the last moments of summer
in the company of young and old,
each of us attracted to its laughter.
And a voice spoke out
of a corner of this retreated peace
"It's the end of something.
At least the start
of something ending.
It's the end of many things
that you've grown accustomed to,
that have grown around you
and within you - rooted.
And so you may wonder -
- will the roots simply die from neglect?
(Has that dying already begun
from past neglect? Discuss.)
Or will you have to find the will
to uproot them?
- will the pain be worth the excavation?
- will the freeing of them better free you?
Or will you one day be grateful
for the remains of what was?
"So, for now, carry the remains.
Carry the scars and the stains.
Walk with confidence through this ending."
I listened to the voice in the quiet.
And sat with the fountain a while longer.
Knowing I'll find the decision sooner
or later. For tomorrow, it was September.
Aug 31, 2025
Aug 31, 2025 at 9:00 AM UTC
"You're getting younger",
my life said as it gazed into my eyes.
"Can I whisper something?",
I smiled, as I marveled back.
My life cupped my face and pulled it closer,
"tell me, gorgeous".
"I am loving myself,"
I sighed.
Jun 24, 2025
Jun 24, 2025 at 5:18 AM UTC
Within the fountains
Well wishes sparkle
With the diamond stars
Reynaldo Casison
Mar 10, 2025
Mar 10, 2025 at 5:57 AM UTC
Within the fountain
The diamond dreams
Of stars and lovers
Reynaldo Casison
Mar 5, 2025
Mar 5, 2025 at 10:57 PM UTC
The fountain is clear,
I dry myself with some grass --
The nightingale sings.
Aug 4, 2024
Aug 4, 2024 at 2:17 AM UTC
Your Humour splits the World
and the Universe begins to Laugh.
Your jokes flow like a Fountain
and splits Me into Half.
Your Smile makes Me Quiver,
along My nervous Spine.
It's like the Ripples of a River,
Where the high tide begins at Nine.
Your Beauty is so Beautiful,
It moves My naked Soul.
Your Kindness is so much Loving,
It sewed My broken Heart to Whole.
I was waiting for My Heartbeats,
So I could Dedicate a Poem with Words.
But Words were hard to come by,
So I stole them from the Birds.
Jun 23, 2023
Jun 23, 2023 at 9:46 AM UTC
Sounds dreams art form
In age norm- brainstorm
Wake -up alarm rainstorms
Carmel Clouds
Barking noises and hounds
Chasing to be found
Sandstorm
Monstrous- snowstorm
Dreams to heal
In uniform
Please no harm
love embraces
Chasing the wrong faces
Gazing- engaging- singing
Dreams touch a nerve
Reacting jump ringing*
Chasing and saving
Memory of words
Wild child-hummingbirds
Floating in the air taps
No time like a normal nap
The cell phone pictures
and apps
Chasing big stir coffee sips
Valuable time trips
Chasing our dreams
Is real what it seems?
Lips* met* the *sunset
Eyes water love just met
Chasing- raging- event
Lullaby Lighthouse
Does your dreams make any sense?
Jun 14, 2023
Jun 14, 2023 at 8:02 AM UTC
A deep conversation with heaven
Unspoken words and sorrows
Emanate from my fountain pen
Igniting my creative flows
-talking to the moon about you
Jan 20, 2022
Jan 20, 2022 at 8:46 AM UTC
Festival time - A favorite time of year
When Mothers and Fathers sing the their children as gifts
Dance in the love of Old Grandpa Wally
Even when he can't find his socks, or sits on the dog
Aunt Dorcas bought the tickets to the Fantasy Festival
So all the good little Girls and Boyos can play!
Open your arms
To the Fountain of Clowns
Open your family
To the Fountain of Clowns
Open your Daddy
To the Fountain of Clowns
Open your Mommy
To the Fountain of Clowns
Will you go with me to ride the Spring Mares?
Or see the sights at the Showy-Magic Tent?
Maybe learn what the Pizzazz Wizard sees for our Tomorrows?
Maybe a kiss at the Promisatorium
All of your Sister's dreams can die and be born again
If your tired, rest your head on Brother's lap and take a drink
Open your eyes
To the Fountain of Clowns
Open your heart
To the Fountain of Clowns
Open your insides
To the Fountain of Clowns
Open your mouth
To the Fountain of Clowns
Laughing and Crying are the flavors of love
The scars on your heart will open its flowers
Look deep in the eyes of the children who surround you
Ask them for love with your arms and your tears
The sun in the sky was meant for your Heart
Maybe the Queen of Summer will never end
Open your past
To the Fountain of Clowns
Open your future
To the Fountain of Clowns
Open your body
To the Fountain of Clowns
Open your heart
To the Fountain of Clowns
Jan 31, 2021
Jan 31, 2021 at 1:45 PM UTC
I be a fountain of words
ready to take breaths spoon,
and scoop them up to scribe away.
I be the mighty river
expanding with waves of phases
to invite fish like eyes to wander.
I be a sun that breaks through clouds
to tickle with rays of hope infused verse.
Come and ride this moment
to feel rich with my abundance of words.
Come dance upon my field of blossoming
libretto’s that match birds who sing.
I dance with life using my skateboard of pen.
I fly with moment to open hearts who gather.
I be a poet with destiny to offer
lyrics from my love fountain
for all to drink.
Aug 5, 2020
Aug 5, 2020 at 1:49 PM UTC
These days, anxiety pools around feet
And I drown, which means
I wake up randomly gasping
Pulling at the air, searching for a ladder
Flailing in early morning
As if I am trying to fly
I want to fly away or pull the moon down
So I can build sandcastles on its surface
Then move in, taking residency up in the stars
Fear comes in waves, ebbing and flowing
Over my nerves, breaking down sandcastles
Anxiety, a fountain, always overflowing
Seeping into the corners of my eyes
And I cry for a raft in this tumultuous sea
Jun 25, 2020
Jun 25, 2020 at 12:57 AM UTC
What is life?
Life is
The magical moments
That keeps your heart levitated,
That keeps you on your toes,
That fills you up with warmth,
Filled with loving moments,
That you can’t get enough of,
And wish that it stays.
But,
Life doesn’t give you what you want,
No matter how many pennies you throw into the fountain.
What is life?
Life is
The dark moments
The ones where you cry when something doesn’t go your way,
The ones where you must carry an umbrella and wear all black,
The ones where you feel like S***;
These ones are when you feel hopeless
No matter how many times you fall,
And don’t feel like you should get back up.
Everyone’s day feels like one of these.
Wake up and find out: Are you having a magical or a dark day?
But the worst of all, are the ones where it is magical then it slowly turns dark;
Where you think everything is in your favor,
And you are about to show the world that they should not mess with you
Then a text or a tweet comes in
And everyone turns their back to you.
May 19, 2020
May 19, 2020 at 7:18 PM UTC
This fountain
Started off beautiful
Water flowed gently
All parts working together
But like good things,
Something dark looms
The outside looks put together
The inside is a mess
It takes a lot of work
To make the fountain function
The outcome may be beautiful
The road there isn't
Gears turn
Pumps push and pull
To make the water gush
So majestically
To become what it is
It had to be built
With hard labor
And ugly sweat
Sure the foundation gets attention
Sure it gives so little
Sure it's beautiful
But that's not what it takes
To be so great
Apr 30, 2020
Apr 30, 2020 at 12:50 AM UTC
Fountainhead
by Michael R. Burch
I did not delight in love so much
as in a kiss like linnets’ wings,
the flutterings of a pulse so soft
the heart remembers, as it sings:
to bathe there was its transport, brushed
by marble lips, or porcelain,—
one liquid kiss, one cool outburst
from pale rosettes. What did it mean ...
to float awhirl on minute tides
within the compass of your eyes,
to feel your alabaster bust
grow cold within? Ecstatic sighs
seem hisses now; your eyes, serene,
reflect the sun’s pale tourmaline.
Published by Romantics Quarterly, Poetica Victorian, PW Review, Nutty Stories (South Africa), Inspirational Stories, Poetry Life & Times
Keywords/Tags: Fountain, love, heart, pulse, bathe, kiss, sun, marble, bust, tides, sighs, eyes, sun, tourmaline
Mar 16, 2020
Mar 16, 2020 at 6:03 AM UTC
the firmament calls forth delicate bubbles from deep beneath the soil
under my feet, pine tree roots
further below, the fountain gone stagnant
glimmering spheres moving through air compliment the evergreen needles
unavoidable bursts of rot, exuded from that which grows beside the fountain
in a swampy green place, mother of the pines
eternal life giver, balancing this forest upon it’s ancient branches
with every step, a wobble
with every misstep, another burst
to which i inhale my worst of days, and live from those days onward
Feb 3, 2020
Feb 3, 2020 at 7:05 PM UTC
I saw you in Roman Holiday years ago
but you are much thinner now
today is Monday
both you and your master have a day off
the sea horses make no waves
nor the Triton and the chariot
Wishing for a happy return
I stand with my back toward you
as done in the movie
and quickly toss
three five-hundred-lira coins
Hoping they won’t devalue too badly
before they hit bottom
Jan 30, 2020
Jan 30, 2020 at 6:52 PM UTC
I walk through the park every day.
Sometimes I squeeze through the crowd and toss a coin into the fountain, longing vibrating through every molecule of my body.
I’ve done it maybe twenty times now. I wish for the same thing each time.
(I can’t say what it is, though— then it won’t come true. And I really need it to.)
Amid a cluster of intermingling people, I stand almost-alone;
Me and my coin and my one wish.
I wonder, sometimes, how much it matters.
If I’m just deluding myself and tossing
pennies nickels dimes quarters
Into the water, emptying my wallet splash after splash in naive pursuit of something I know I will never have.
Small children join me in tossing nuggets of wishful thinking, their parents laughing at the naivete of it all.
I imagine a world where I don’t rely on a coin to shift my luck.
I wonder if I know somewhere beneath this self-deception that it doesn’t matter.
That no matter how many pennies I toss,
No matter how many stars I wish on,
No matter how many dandelions I blow into the wind, eyes squeezed tight with desperate desire,
Sometimes wishes just don’t come true.
But I know I’ll toss another coin in tomorrow. I don’t have to wonder about that.
Jan 28, 2020
Jan 28, 2020 at 2:28 PM UTC
In the water
Our spinning coins join to
reflect a halo round the moon,
Beautifully glowing in place before the inevitable fall.
Aug 20, 2019
Aug 20, 2019 at 8:00 PM UTC
In the park, soft-study of sands and swings,
Where the birds while away the unabridged air
Like rains on green, copper roofs ~ their wings.
So I have touched my rainy fingers on the fountain’s surface,
And tum-tumed at the dumpy belly of a dog,
So I have felt the vendor’s balloons like cantaloupes for freshness,
So I have a pocket-change of smiles for all.
At the fountain’s edge,
Like green-molded quaystones feather-singed
By the touchstrokes of the arcing wings of the sea,
Or like a saucer of warm milk
For the alley-cats to drink the milkiness of sun
And then with their paws,
Plink at overturning the day into porcelain shadows.
Aug 4, 2019
Aug 4, 2019 at 6:54 PM UTC
I'll draw you a picture;
I'll draw it with a twist;
I'll draw it with a razor;
I'll draw it on my wrist;
If i do it correctly;
A red fountain will appear;
To take away my pain,
And wash away my fears
Apr 12, 2019
Apr 12, 2019 at 2:25 AM UTC