"entente" poems
I’ve got acres of skin,
and a heart that aches to think of
yours - a quickening pulse when I feel your lips and mine.
I’ve got hands
that trace the lines on yours.
The palm: a life line, fate line, head line. Double entente.
The heart line that aligns
with my line as you press it against the wall.
Your fingers entwined with mine and the other around my throat.
Or is it my brain?
Your blood runs from your heart through
the places we touch and courses through my veins.
I have fingers that dance in the dark. You know they could play a
symphony, but tonight you let me play you and your
fingers tingle with applause.
Jun 6, 2017
Jun 6, 2017 at 12:47 PM UTC
Classes clash and collapse in collective implosion
The lower estates plant their insignia
ostentatiously on heaps of men
after storming the Bastille
to make way for the malady of the mitrailleuse
and celebration of Entente supremacy.
Clemenceau rise in rank as the
bodies of Flers-Courcelette stank.
Villains of the Devil's backwash
Slap you lightly on the hand
before commanding your neck
to the narrow stand
of the Guillotine.
Blood alone drives
the infinite rolling barrage of atrocious folly.
Liberté, égalité, fraternité
**Keep calm
and
carry
on**
Jan 15, 2014
Jan 15, 2014 at 9:51 PM UTC
'Attention!' yelled the commander,
as we fell in line one by one,
this is the tragedy we're under,
at least 'til the end of World War One.
I was shoved into the frontline
the minute I turned eighteen,
freedom and peace were never mine,
no, never mine to keep.
My simple life was never real
I was just biding my time,
as a boy my fate was sealed
and to refuse it would be a crime.
Sweetheart, did you remember,
our dreams that were to be?
Now crushed in the cold September,
the result my of signing to army.
Trenches run meters deep
all across northern France,
the home to my battered, crumbling feet,
as I take my battle stance.
In succession soldiers will perish,
across the brutal field,
the pain they will not relish,
but have to keep concealed.
The universal bloodbath,
that'll eventually take it's toll,
all searching for a triumphant path
that runs through rotten coal.
First the Triple Entente,
of Russia, France and Britain,
they had the ships and could confront
to conquer and accomplish their mission.
Then came the Triple Alliance,
yes they weren't very good with names,
it was Germany and Austria, a likely compliance,
I'd say they've got quite fair game.
well,
Victory was widely sought,
but the war was nearly done,
hundreds and thousands of hearts are stopped,
because of the curse that is World War One.
Jul 13, 2015
Jul 13, 2015 at 7:25 AM UTC
flying over Harrisburg (Seat 8C)
transcontinental traveller this day,
from a city island onwards to a city by the bay,
the mileage sum greater than a lifetime of M31 bus trips,
but the in-transit poem-notion-potion elixir in blood stirring,
when a seated poet greets the jet stream
motion turbulence
,
one more rightful writ to the
flying poem chapter,
additive motivated and self-commandeered
airborne in the selfsame real clouds
where the poems are plucked from,
their distance to my body’s poem functions,
vastly abbreviated so they arrive more wet, chilled and urgent,
we become heated tango paired
already approaching Indiana, crossing Ohio,
over whose living souls have I traversed,
over whose stored poems have I flown through,
ruffling their crinkled white wrapper covers, the decorative ribbons,
whose hand waves have I discerned,
and whose cheeks have I gently kissed?
this land is my land, this land is our land,
and from the soft cream of moisture white,
stumbled on my long lost and well forgotten poems, thereby
freshly creasing and dampening yellowings
with the renewable tears when greeting old friends
of the who and when poetry was a secret garden
where I hid and withdrew and transpired the essential oils
of my deconstructed constitution
see this poem is more me just checking in on you below,
you up ahead, and those in arreared reared view mirror,
and on me, composing at an altitude of 31,824 feet to
strings of violins, my one true plane
as compensator for this ramble unfocused I gift you this:
*conscripted by the thin atmosphere,
constricted by my failings, my limited stock of words,
my extra clouded judgement, my heartbeats rapido speak,
telling me to tell you my brothers, my sisters,
mine own adapted children,
we have never been closer than we are today,
until that day I knock and grinningly embrace and erase
that tiny space between our ******* and in unison breathe*
8:50am EST entente
entering into Illinois
Mar 23, 2018
Mar 23, 2018 at 9:16 AM UTC
Cold to the touch / this scene is a long dream / bio-luminescent submarine / keep it light / keep it moving / this whole dream is all of me / illuminating needles on the barometer / the compass of a turtle /
entente with nature / I am the mimicry / and the signaling / to breaking waves / to new possibilities / the new, warm blood flowing / in steady, sated lanterns of hope...
Sep 9, 2020
Sep 9, 2020 at 1:31 AM UTC
Mes amis et moi
Ont n'a pas les mêmes penchants, mais on cohabite ensemble.
On n'a pas les mêmes religions, mais on mange à la même table.
On est partisans de différentes parties Politique, mais on se parle aimablement et nos débats son sur la base du respect et de l'encouragement mutuelle.
On a différent goût, mais on ne manque pas de s'apprecier.
C'est ça la diversité.
Elle se veut elle-même diversifie.
Donnez-lui des définitions et des avis diffèrent et elle vous magnifiera.
Seulement garder son sens premier
Celle qui prône : l'amour, l'entente , la paix et le vivre ensemble.
Plus qu la vie, elle est en larmes
Plus qu n'importe quelle espèce en voie de disparition, elle est menacée d'distinction,
toujours par les hommes.
Les hommes se plaignent de multiples maux pourtant, ils refusent tous ses baumes
L'homme est décidément la seule espèce sur terre qui fuit consciemment la solution à ses problèmes et bizarrement, ils se plainent sans cesse de ses problèmes.
Nov 7, 2021
Nov 7, 2021 at 2:07 PM UTC