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Thinking of him flings me from these plains
to the nearest body
of water whose mist smells of salt and life
the unrestrained passion
and ****** of sea.

The book, Odes to Common Things,
a gift of a dear friend
who knew not the arousal,
the seed of near sensual desire
it would plant in me
like the buttery aroma of a woman’s hair
or the taste of her moist lips.

Even a thought of Neruda
takes me to the stormy stirrings
wrought from the ***** of the Pacific.
and sounding on the shores of Chile.

How could the writing of a man
a continent away
foment in my chest
a fervor akin
to a spiritual awakening?

I read him in English
but feel the thump
of his Latin heart
in my body.
I read that his book, translated into English as Residence on Earth, was born of Neruda’s feelings of alienation. It seems that a large part of me feels as if I have been on the margins of society and maybe that is why I feel that thumping of Neruda’s heart within me. Spanish poet Garcia Lorca calls Pablo “a poet closer to death than to philosophy, closer to pain that to insight, closer to blood than to ink. “A poet filled with mysterious voices that fortunately he himself does not know how to decipher.” * I thank oldpoet MK https://hellopoetry.com/MK/  and his poem Broadcasting the Seed of Poems https://hellopoetry.com/poem/4845320/broadcasting-the-seed-of-poems/  for the inspiration for this poem.

“The Thumping of a Latin Heart,” Copyright 2024 by Glenn Currier
Written 6-23-24


*From: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/pablo-neruda
 Jun 2024 Karijinbba
Jamesb
Do indeed stay close
In the hard times,
I have stuck by you
And had your back in
The face of your *******
Tirades,
Come flowers in hand to bind wounds
That you inflicted upon yourself,
As well as me,
And not just emotional but
Some which spilled real blood too,
Yet always here to do your dishes,
To cook,
Clean your hob and hold you,
Murmur love through your anger
And your pain,
I am far more than a true friend,
I am partner
Protector and
Lover
Without end
Son
.

Still the vacuum exists,
Still the soul is missed,
Still the emptiness persists,
And they say
Time is the best healer,
Time can give us time to adjust
But,
The pain never ceases,
The emotion never ends.

------
Sparkle In Wisdom
14/7/2021
White Opulence

Days in the desolate plains
of my steady gray moods
have sprawled and engulfed
what I once called
and now barely remember
exuberance.

But walking along suburban alleys
I glance to my left and there it is –
amid brownish green leaves
shimmering with the clouded sun
are muscular white flourishes
which ****** me
back to my Louisiana childhood
and a neighborhood paradise
of blooming trees.

I walk over, bend down,
inhale and feel a near drug-induced high
by the alluring, inviting, tempting
fragrance of a magnolia blossom.
 Jun 2024 Karijinbba
Jeremy Betts
Locked out of every building down the block of trust
Left in my torrential downfall to rust
Knocked off course by a simple gust
A visual SOS is a must
But follow the flair I launch daily at dusk
And stumble across a cold and lonely husk

©2024
The big C
come to get me
like a snake in the grass
crawling quiet and slow
you begin to grow
taking small, sleeping victims
while I sleep
while I dream
but you made the mistake
that snakes often make
you bit off more than you could chew
I knew it was you
there is only one item now
on your menu
fire
I got his ***!
Tonight after an isolating illness,
propelled beyond my darkness,
I walked into a universe of light
where stars are swallowed
into black holes
spreading their energy and light
into and beyond the shame or blight
dragged along by each
stumbling with the baggage of their histories,
then recovering
his balance.
I wish I could attach the image that partially inspired this poem. It is an image of a star or galaxy being swallowed by a black hole or at least that is what it looks like to me. The image: https://www.pexels.com/photo/red-and-orange-galaxy-illustration-41951/
 Jun 2024 Karijinbba
John Glenn
Art
 Jun 2024 Karijinbba
John Glenn
Art
You are the woman
with the perplexing smile
The pearl earring
of the golden age
The starry sky
that offers asylum,
The clock that melts
time on tabletops,
The great wave that dissolves
froth and foam
The venus atop the shells
on the waters, and
The charismatic fire
even the seas thirst for
And I will be your artist;
the desires to sketch you
What desires to sketch you
(Read the first line, then every other line that starts with an upper case. Read the second line, then every other line in lower case. Then read all lines as a whole.)
 Jun 2024 Karijinbba
John Glenn
2020
 Jun 2024 Karijinbba
John Glenn
War stirs in the west.
The giants in the east
awaken from slumber,
ready to wager.
Up north and down south
the trees burn
as the households await death
to knock on their doors,
unable to breathe.
Speaking of death,
he has taken the icons
and left us with dictators
to further his bidding.
Money has fallen out of value,
with rather a hefty price
at the cost of human life.
Plagued with adversity,
food is short
and the days are long.
Humanity pays
for all its wrongs.
Everything that's been happening so far this year has affected us in so many different ways. Though no matter how dark it all seems to be, there's always light to find at the end of the tunnel. This darkness too, shall pass.
 Jun 2024 Karijinbba
John Glenn
Let the stars in the sky plummet
on their own
Let the flowers sway
The wind is just the wind
and nothing more
Let the angels sing their songs
and let the devils
shed their snakeskin
Let all the girls and boys
my age be happy
Let the sunshine sliver
across their skies
Let them walk into the sunset with love
ablaze in their eyes
And leave  me free
to wonder why
I do not feel the same
What are you up to these days?
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