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 Mar 2013 Ugo
Shar Ward
Dawn rose
Her golden hair lighting the sky
And she caressed the Earth
In her fiery finger tips
Painting color onto every
Tree and flower
Whose color had been bleached
By the Moon

All the glassy-eyed marionette puppets
Were brought back to life
Dancing in the light
Their eyes shone
From their mistress’ warm glow

The puppets kneeled before
The rising sun
Smiling and full of joy
A feeling so different
Than the cold fear the Moon brought

The Darkness

That was when Twilight, the setting sun
Dropped her marionettes
Left them strewn about carelessly
And the shimmering Moon came out of hiding

The Moon Lady smiled down sadly
At the lifeless figures
Littering the Earth
But she didn’t say anything
No
Instead she blew soft kisses
Into the unforgiving black space
Where they twinkled like diamonds

And she shed tears,
Which landed on the puppet’s faces
And clung to their eyelashes
Like silvery dew

Ah, but the marionettes didn’t appreciate
The twinkling lights in the sky
Nor the beautiful tears shed in sympathy for them

They just waited for Dawn to return
With her golden hair
And glowing finger tips
 Mar 2013 Ugo
Mike Hauser
When you say I'm thought provoking
I say you could be wrong
An original thought has never left
or is that entered my head
Wait a minute...is that a thought

Maybe I've got something here
That I haven't thought of before
Perhaps the thought that I just had
Unlocked some Magical Door

I now frantically need to find the key
What I'm thinking it's all about
I need to keep locked behind closed doors
Because some thoughts need not get out
I leaned over and picked up
the flower he had discarded.
The crumpled petals still soft like velvet
bore creases and bruises
from the punishing treatment.
I saw him walking,
red faced and somber
aimless and alone
as he was leaving the park.
She had told him she needed time.
He heard her say no--and
his impatience born of
self-absorption
completely belied his intent--
to express undying love for her.
The quarrel over, she retreated,
while the unsuspecting flower
bore the brunt of his aggression.
Pity him? Pity her?
It was beyond my power.
I only saw the flower.
And as I thought about it
through wet and thoughtful eyes
I saw the flower in my hands
loose its outer petals, one by one.
It's core untouched, like a miracle,
the once bruised and crumpled mass
turned into a beautiful bud once more
and smiled on me
with the last rays of the afternoon.

J. Sandy
Alive and intoxicated
By the sparkle of your laughter;
Sensing, not hoping, I waited forever.
Telephones can be such cruel instruments of
Enforced distance–
But just now, I cradled mine, softly.
I wished you walks in flower-speckled meadows,
Near laughing brooks and trees covered with velvety moss.
I wished you warm sunny days, and lazy afternoons,
And diamond-splashed indigo nights spent counting stars.
I wished more than words which a phone could convey...
And I hurried to hush the fear in my heart.
I have been away too long.
I have seen too many sunsets.
I have been true to myself throughout my desolation,
And now, I tread the path between good-bye and surrender.
On the day Liz Taylor died,
CNN called Larry King
out of retirement to
eulogize her during
the mornings
breakfast segment.
Tears were shed.

On the day Liz Taylor died,
TEPCO stated that one
of the Fukushima nuclear
reactors was on fire.
Tears of cataclysm
were shed.

On the day Liz Taylor died,
government officials warned
that Tokyo's water was
contaminated with
radiation and was not fit
for infants to drink.
Tears of anguish
were shed.

On the day Liz Taylor died,
the crew of the
USS Ronald Reagan
scrubbed the deck
clean of TEPCO
radiation.
Tears of worry
were shed.

On the day Liz Taylor died,
Oregonians rushed out to
buy potassium iodine
tablets to counteract
radiation poisoning.
Tears of affliction
were shed.

On the day Liz Taylor died,
NATO forces continued
to fire missiles and drop
bombs on Libya.
Tears of agony
were shed.

On the day Liz Taylor died,
a terrorist bomb exploded
in Jerusalem, killing one
and injuring many.
Tears of vengeance
were shed.

On the day Liz Taylor died,
the Syrian Army fired on
demonstrators
calling for reforms.
Tears of hostility
were shed.

On the day Liz Taylor died,
The USA Today reported
that during the past decade
the population of Detroit
declined by 25%.
Tears of loss
were shed.

On the day Liz Taylor died,
a dilapidated brownstone
in Philadelphia collapsed;
city officials expect
many more to occur.
Tears of distress
were shed.

On the day Liz Taylor died,
President Obama cut
short his Latin American
trip by skipping a tour of
Mayan ruins.
Tears of dismay
were shed.

On the day Liz Taylor died
the Dow Jones Industrial
Average closed
up 67.39 points.
Tears of joy
were shed.

On the day Liz Taylor died,
Elton John dedicated the song,
Don't Let the Sun Go Down on Me
to the memory of his departed friend.
Tears were shed.

You Tube Music Video:
Elton John,
Don't Let the Sun Go Down on Me

Lewes DE
3/23/11
jbm
 Feb 2013 Ugo
Patricia Drake
It all begins
With pronouns
I becomes the subject
Of my project
Adding you
And collectively we
I choose you and me
And I exclude the he and the she
Until I am certain of we

You and I pick verbs
actions

Inflect them to match
fit
begin narratives

Transitive verbs take objects

You touch
tickle
tease
taste
take skin
*******
lips
me with words

Words have become a clause
But still a simple construction
So, you tickle me where?

For this you need a preposition
To position your tickling ammunition
Do you touch
tickle
tease me ON my *******
*******
thighs
buttocks
****?

Do you feel me INSIDE my mouth
****
soul?
Positioning is envisioning.

Then you use adjectives
To modify descriptions of
Sensory inscriptions
So, gentle complements touch
Soft and passionate kiss
And you become superlative

And adverbs elaborate experience
expression
exploration

You fill me deeply
thoroughly
violently with all that is you

But adverbs can also mean time
Not sweet or cursed time
Or time denoting age
But timing is always important
And grammar dictates
That
Time adverbs are placed
As a beginning or an end
Like a lover's embrace

Thus,
This morning, you woke me with
A demanding "here and now! " and I will reciprocate this, tonight, I vow.

Conjunctions are sentence connectors
And sentences behave like detectors
Bodies balancing with and, but, or
Otherwise subordinate
And the scale tips towards
Conditioning hypotaxis
Making actions a complicated praxis

(before my mind can connect, you will have to pursuade it /pursue it)

But we coordinate conjunctions
Equally
I touch you
You touch me
Exploring
Exploding sensory functions

So, together we cry imperatives
Completing our ****** narratives

Moaning
Whimpering
Begging
Yelling: Please... bind me!
touch me!
bite me!
take me!
come!

Oh! Please, come!

I love the English language... ;)
 Feb 2013 Ugo
Selena Jance
Maybe only slowly, can someone
come nearer, and closer, in thought,
where he might be a sliver

of painted visions on a glass
ceiling. Somehow, as thinking fades
and the colours take precedence. Blue

purple hues, taking place on the
pink of a lovely sight or thought. He felt he
needed to trample what I have come

to, shatter this illusion of a
benevolence. He cracked my gauges,
took the defenses right away. As my

last stroke failed, a broken lance of the
first. Silently he cuffed away his iciness, pursuing me
with a granite effortlessness. Then the impermeable

onyx kissed my mouth and went away.


© 2006
 Feb 2013 Ugo
arco iris
the person who laughed yesterday
is the person who wanted to die today.
and as hard as I try
love will not leave this body.
it will not rise like steam from my skin
as from a teacup in the kitchen.
nor will it exit as sweat
that forms on my back
as I hold someone else in the dark
and gasp for air.
love will not leave in an exhalation
in a breathe that contains your name
and it will not leave in a plume of smoke
blown out through parted lips.
love will not leave this body
in a laugh drawn out on rare occasions
when I forget you for a moment
or in tears drawn out of your memory
when I remember.
love will not leave
this body
as hard as I try.
 Feb 2013 Ugo
Kittana86
You
 Feb 2013 Ugo
Kittana86
You
You took me away,
to where the stars grow like flowers,
and said you loved me

In the dark you held me.
You were the light at the end of the tunnel,
and it held me close

The wind asked the snow to dance.
So did you, ask me.
I took your hand.
And like the cold we danced around,
on a ground filled with pebbles and rocks.
Under the blooming stars,
looking into the distance.
 Feb 2013 Ugo
Michael Hoffman
DRONE
 Feb 2013 Ugo
Michael Hoffman
The drone swept silent
between the maple tree
and the shed

zapped my dog Shep
with an electric bolt
that vaporized him instantly

while Mr. Stone next door laughed
I told you, Hoffman
to shut that **** dog up

just as my drone
launched a fire grenade
up the exhaust pipe
of his new Lexus

yet somewhere
in the akashic record
of my sweet country
a muleteer helps
pull his neighbor’s wagon
out of the mud
that follows
a torrential rain
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