"repartee" poems
Ornery odious ordinate ostensive opulence ornate optimal
Motivity meatus meticulous morsel moribund mendacity monstrance
Lucidity lingam loquacity longevous licentious lurid languishing
Votary volition verve venery vector vauntness vast
Talismanically telepathy tantamount terrestrial tellurian transition tractive
Idolatry -ics incus ictus ichor icon icky
Yogi yowl yore yoni yerk yenta yantra
Gimpy gesticulation genre gestational glitch genuflection grandiose
Dastardly douceur denouement denigrational deplorable despicable desperate
Paltry potentate portentous plagiaristic pandemic plenipotentiary plenary
Jouncy jocular jeopardy jettison jurisprudence jaunt juxtaposition
Ramify repartee radix recital rectitude rendition repertoire
Beastly bartizan bodacious belligerent brusque blatant blasphemously
Enmity exigency exacerbation extemporaneous edifice eulogy exoneration
Zoolatry zoomorphic zilch Zephyr zoic zygosity zealotry
Sultry solace subtlety substantiation suborn subliminal sensorium
Unity ultimatum usurping unfathomable uncanny unbridled unary
***** hornswoggle horizon huckster homogeny holistic heuristic
Nugatory notch nostrum notorious nihilism nimiety nimbus
Wrathy wreak wroth wrought wrest wrangle warranty
Artistry autonomy articulation agility acuity asperity acerbity
Keeky kangaroo court kowtow kobold kleptomania kinetics kinesiology
Xylography xenophile xerophilous xylophagous xylem xanadu xenobiotic
Critically credibility critique coercion conjugational conjunctive corporeal
Queasy quasi quantum quintessence quagmire quixotic quantify
Flighty flippant flamboyance faux pas fornicatious fictitious finite
Jan 22, 2013
Jan 22, 2013 at 5:31 AM UTC
Finite fictitious fornicatious faux pas flamboyance flippant flighty
Quantify quixotic quagmire quintessence quantum quasi queasy
Corporeal conjunctive conjugational coercion critique credibility critically
Xenobiotic xanadu xylem xylophagous xerophilous xenophile xylography
Kinesiology kinetics kleptomania kobold kowtow kangaroo court keeky
Acerbity asperity acuity agility articulation autonomy artistry
Warranty wrangle wrest wrought wroth wreak wrathy
Nimbus nimiety nihilism notorious nostrum notch nugatory
Heuristic holistic homogeny huckster horizon hornswoggle *****
Unary unbridled uncanny unfathomable usurping ultimatum unity
Sensorium subliminal suborn substantiation subtlety solace sultry
Zealotry zygosity zoic Zephyr zilch zoomorphic zoolatry
Exoneration eulogy edifice extemporaneous exaserbational exigency enmity
Blasphemously blatant brusque belligerent bodacious bartizan beastly
Repertoire rendition rectitude recital radix repartee ramify
Juxtaposition jaunt jurisprudence jettison jeopardy jocular jouncy
Plenary plenipotentiary pandemic plagiaristic portentous potentate paltry
Desperate despicable deplorable denigrational denouement douceur dastardly
Grandiose genuflection glitch gestational genre gesticulation gimpy
Yantra yenta yerk yoni yore yowl yogi
Icky icon ichor ictus incus -ics idolatry
Tractive transition tellurian terrestrial tantamount telepathy talismanically
Vast vauntness vector venery verve volition votary
Languishing lurid licentious longevous loquacity lingam lucidity
Monstrance mendacity moribund morsel meticulous meatus motivity
Optimal ornate opulence ostensive ordinate odious ornery
Jan 23, 2013
Jan 23, 2013 at 5:48 AM UTC
To wit to woo, or not to wit to woo,
Would wooing suit a suitor shy on wit?
Or would a witty suitor suit poor Sue,
For Sue aint one to want a witless twit!
If Sue is wooed by witty repartee,
Then Sue and suitor could be well suited,
But he who woo's poor Sue with lethargy,
Is like to like not how he gets booted!
So if you want to woo, and to woo Sue,
Then deign to don a suit and do your bit,
To shoot for Sue, your wit should shoot straight thru',
Or wooing Sue aint worth a sack of spit;
Poor Sue just wants a witty suitor, see?
So if your wit is wanting, leave her be!
May 8, 2014
May 8, 2014 at 10:23 AM UTC
Prosecco cocktails, être pour la danse,
cassis pour moi avec limoncello,
madame, passion fruit, and blood oranges
très grownup, breakfast at Tiffany's,
she is all sunglasses and Audreyfied,
me and George P., struggling writers,
checking if i got enough cash
or have to exit smooth, just in case,
maybe we leave our
coats behind, as ransom?
lincoln center plaza cross-dressers,
past the opera,
the sun, a balmy thirty five degrees,
laughing at us teasingly,
cause tonight and tomorrow,
*********** all the day,
winter kisses
in case we forgot,
early March
first belongs to the Ides of Winter
Afternoon of a Faun,
another ballet, origin,
a Mallarmé poem.
(you begin to comprehend)
yes quite so,
a perfect synopsis of the day,
Acheron imported from Scarlett Liam
who lives in the U.K.,
but comes to choreograph here,
for gloria Americana
sundown, soul cold back,
"lest we forget,"
but the dancers bid us adieu
with a rousing waltz, frenchified,
La Valse, une poème chorégraphique,
by Ravel, bien sûr!
aroused and heart gladdened,
return home for
for veal chop love
two hours of *** banging,
kitchen banishment, (Yay!)
chanterelles steeped in red wine,
coverlet for a non-vegan tasting,
English peas, red and purple potatoes,
and for desert,
a diet dream of verbal exchanged of detailed
I love you's
He: I love you,
She (happy), replies: I love you more.
(this repartee ballet, has been rehearsal danced before)
He: Why?
She: Because you are kind and generous, to street beggars, my single friends, good and smart, love art,
and never let me down, and love my cooking, leave space for others when you park, go thru life making waiters and ticket takers smile and laugh, sleep for hours your head on my hip, write me crazy love poems about veal chops
He: What's for desert tonight?
She: A ****
Apr 29, 2014
Apr 29, 2014 at 8:41 PM UTC
Time: 1
Us: 0
Will it always be like this?
Swinging our racquets at Einstein's illusion.
Singing, singing, singing 'Stop
the World I Wanna Get Off
With You'
when nobody hears
over the relentless tick-tocks.
As
as
the clock's hands
push
push
pull us together,
apart.
Hey, you.
Are we lovers or are we opponents?
Let's look at the scoreboard.
Time: 1
Us: 0
In school, they taught us perseverance.
So we keep
dancing, dancing, dancing
around
the hands of the clock.
I'm on number 3 and
you face me.
What's it like on number 9?
What's it like to be on the edge of
the next hour,
the next day,
the next big thing?
You're on number 9, I'm on number 3.
I face you, you face me.
Are we lovers or are we opponents?
I face you,
you face me.
So easy for us to...
So easy for us to love, but
so easy for us to leave.
So easy to fight, to
wrap our hands
around
each other's throats
simultaneously.
So easy to embrace, so
easy to walk away
when you are the west and I am the east.
I'll ask you again:
Are we lovers or are we opponents?
Eyes flit up to the scoreboard,
even though
we don't want to look
away from each other.
Time: 1
Us: 0
The ball is in no one's court anymore.
No more back and forth,
stichomythia, repartee.
Nor round and
round
when it's all an illusion,
isn't it?
Don't look.
Don't bring it up.
Time: 1
Us: 0
The figures are getting bolder, louder
than the ticking.
Tell me, tell me, before
you move to 10
and our angles get skew,
tripping over the clock's hands,
because we forgot the steps of
our dance.
Tell me, tell me, what it's like
when you see me
all the way from number 9
while I'm on number 3.
The scoreboard's screeching
like a train ready to leave.
Time: 1
Us: 0
The audience is already beginning to clap.
They have loved us
and so have we.
We put on quite the show,
enough to rival Djokovic or Murray.
But neither of us will walk out with gold.
Not when we've lost to an abstraction
that can swallow us into
memories.
We get silver medals.
Around our necks, choking
but we clasp them tightly
so they can sparkle on our chests.
My silver beams to you,
your silver beams to me.
On and off,
a Morse code speech.
When we can't speak,
can't breathe,
that seems to suffice.
Here is a case of beautiful irony:
How did we meet?
Your eyes
saw in
my eyes
that silver gleam.
My eyes
saw in
your eyes
the very same thing.
Remember:
I face you, you face me.
Are we lovers or are we opponents?
The scoreboard screams:
Time: 1
Us: 0
I bought a watch today, why
did I do that?
I'm so smart but
I'm so stupid.
I face you, you face me.
It's not an illusion, is it?
Look at me.
Is it?
Time: 1
Us: 0
We're finished.
But then how could we have ever won
when neither of us knew how to play tennis?
We look at each other
so the scoreboard can dissolve
instead of us.
Like your eyes
in my eyes
a tethering glance,
could hold us in an eternal position.
Like a single look
could sustain us
stationary.
I face you, you
start to leave.
It doesn't matter now.
Everything's spilling out
on the loudspeaker.
(And for once, you don't wish to seek this one truth.)
Time: 1
Us: 0
It will always be like this.
Time: one.
Us: love.
Jul 1, 2015
Jul 1, 2015 at 11:37 AM UTC
Midnight Bat & Shadow Monkey
play
with smoke magic in moonlit parks
shimmering indigo stars dance
around them.
Island ***** & Mountain Fox
speak
jazz slithers in southern drawls
dripping in thick maple syrup droplets
off their tongues.
Savanna Fire Lion & Volcanic Red Eagle
sing
lighthouse words in squall-like skies
warming velvet hugs embrace
their eyes.
Psychedelic Air Otter & Hip Breezy Dragonfly
banter;
smooth repartee in tricky dream worlds
volley, twist and swirl around
their lips.
Queen Water Dragon & Aqua Gypsy Satyr
dance
Drooling patterns with swaying hips
Dawn smiles & electric fingers tingle
their spines.
Apr 22, 2014
Apr 22, 2014 at 7:49 AM UTC
Find yourself
against again
all odds, with
the prettiest
****** in
this whole
region.
Gently caresses,
she does,
your genitals
says the
wittiest
repartee.
Come, calm
down, old
man it's
just your
imagination,
wake up to
that headache.
Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 11:24 PM UTC
You seem to know where you're needed
to whom this command addressed is a crazy me-man,
a street walking big DaVinci ibearded mumbler,
the kind you would cross the street
before the smell is close enough
to sending you running, not just
politely walking fast but a souped up
hi-yo silver away!
this guise no surprise,
you must and do
already know where I’m needed,
sealing the pact with a yellowtine post-it
writ in simple block letters ordered in a brewed cafe,
my latte arrive states my name as**
come see me
come to the time the place and the date
and prepare oneself for twenty and fours
of rigid interoperability as our systems
interface reach the pure state of 100%
ultimate wordless dialogue
communicating
in with by
perfect silence
heaven
you will write a verse,
my reciprocation
is already prepared
this terse repartee
will many spawn poems generational
for your family amazing and extended
an elephnat never forgets,
his servers are a rolling stone
with no direction home,
capacity unknown
every blade sighted retained,
and every sensate glance
a phrase seeded
departure will find me clean shaven,
pressed jeans neat,
and shod in well worn dockers,
cloaking my innate invisibility
when the children ask who was that,
you’ll sage reply
one new who knew where one was needed
Apr 8, 2019
Apr 8, 2019 at 10:18 AM UTC
Tho we be like strands of nettle, each with his own drop of particular poison, tho over the years we have tangled now and then like tomcats in the alley....
Be it not the beauty and allure of this gathering of writers to appreciate and admire the difference found within?
T'were it not for the likes of Francis this site would lack bite, would lack spice and would lose much of its' erstwhile attraction.
So wherefore art thou Frank?
I miss your stuff. I miss your sharp tongue...
I miss your intellect and repartee!
Wherefore art thou Francis?
M.
Jul 24, 2018
Jul 24, 2018 at 10:30 PM UTC
The demon fly hath landed now intent upon it's task
**** Demon in its valedictory explorations grasp.
Embedded deep in kidneys, to cause me some concern.
A painful path to endgame and a Hellish lesson learned.
I pause a moment, think it out, it's one way or the other
I lost a mate the other day and last month, lost another.
Seems it is the season for the cataclysmic time
I'd rather it be elsewhere but I fear this one... is mine.
I've run a rough and winding track these rugged years of yore
Pulled the Dragons tail in jest and sought, yet, for more.
Rafted mighty rivers and flew the heavens high
And lifted my perception winging vaulting, clear blue sky.
I've known the velvet touch of love, the softness of her lips
The crash of waves on sandy shore caressing fingertips.
The swelling joy of childbirth, the pledge of mothers milk
And rock like bonds of marriage binding all within its ilk.
With thoughts a million miles away I've trudged this country lane
Pondered why, with voids approach, it engenders me no pain?
Wondering why it matters that the children shed a tear
When saddened, glancing passing eyes, are never really near.
Regret I'll never get to see my grove of rhodos bloom
Or sip the soothing whisky as I tap my toe in tune.
Or launch into the crazy surf and splash out to the rock
Nor lie in sun on baking sand admiring talent flock.
Meat pies with sauce at football with a cold beer in the hand
And the repartee with kindred minds in poetry unplanned,
That flash of inspirations' alliteration sprung
Brings the joy to mind of comradeship in Shakespeare's realm, unsung.
.....And then there's all that's left undone, the words, now, left unsaid
The notes of tragic violin hang in the air...unbled
And you there with the swimming eyes, what do I say to you?
It's all been grand, I kiss your hand....Adieu , my friend.... Adieu!
M.
Foxglove, Taranaki
New Zealand
20 October 2020
Oct 20, 2020
Oct 20, 2020 at 12:21 AM UTC
Discombobulated and flabbergasted, flummoxed indeed? No such bemused and befuddled? I am not perplexed on the prognosis to prospectus. They’re incongruous, I’m incredulous, it’s catawampus. Reconnaissance reconnoiter, rectilinear reciprocal rectitude. Radix repartee: Down here at the bizarre bazaar we all believe in the blasphemous farcical fugue-ness, estranged ensemble orchestrations and all. Some of us are even into the various assorted forms of related stranger weirdness. We’ll be having none of this putrid quasi queasy. Corrupt costume counselor siren skeptic. None of you ignominiously pusillanimous incorrigibles who aren’t brave enough to love are required.
Sep 12, 2015
Sep 12, 2015 at 10:05 PM UTC
met my maker
*not for the first time,
two acquaintances periodical,
two boon craftsmen, artisansals,
bs-gab-talking about who is surely
the better poet, glinting, side-splitting,
raucous laughter in our dueling self-mockery*
*neither takes the other too serious,
but of each other, we take endless,
never satisfied, insufficient, each needier
for the rapper inside and repartee, adoring
our jiving unique camaraderie, all-the-while,
knowing our balance unequal, but not caring*
*for as equals we meet, to revel and reflect,
revealing things of each other that only we
know, meant not for sharing ever, for these
webbed strands binding, at same time, release,
permitting a tough honesty tally, truth not a concept,
unnecessary, for how could we ever hide our love mutuel*
*we sitting bestride and beside, in ye old, weather-beat-down
chairs Adirondack, having come hewn from trees centuries old,
now overlooking the Bay, we eyeing a solitary fisherman whom,
we both knowingly aware, metaphor for that day that will come
to collect me away to a new locale, where we will yet still needle
each other, with mercy unforgiving, not for our misdeeds, for never*
is forgivenessasked for or given, not taboo, but
holy unnecessary for such is the way the between the
designer and the artifact, the poet and the poem, the craft
and the object, gardener and her fruits, a cellular understanding
that comprehends the interlocking necessity of our natures, that our
shared endings, are a duelity, both finale and gateway to our next poem!
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/462537/how-i-observed-the-day-of-atonement/
Jun 30, 2023
Jun 30, 2023 at 7:46 AM UTC
B Bitter words are spilled across the page
I Inciting an equally bitter response
T Taking us to places we don't want to be
C Causing animosity amongst once close friends
H Hate and vitriol spreading like a foul pestilence
I Ignorance taking the place of understanding
N No more the poetic repartee of friends
G Gone now are the beautiful days
Aug 1, 2015
Aug 1, 2015 at 6:43 AM UTC
i don't think i'll play
with pleasant words
tonight -- i'd rather
upset you with my
honesty than delight
you with laughably
phony repartee.
excuse the graphic aspect
but i'm not in the business
of acknowledging faux pas.
a reflection on state of mind;
i'd say solid, though somewhat
soft and liquid as well, like
a plate of spaghetti for brains,
i can't figure out which strand
of grey matter is meant for me
and which is supposed to be
slurped up by lady and *****
nor whether it is my pituitary
or my hypothalamus which is
destined to be taken home
in a doggy bag for seconds.
i really am lost.
Jan 18, 2013
Jan 18, 2013 at 3:27 AM UTC
Let me introduce him.
half smile and half manipulation
He will take you out to fancy dinners
and then pinch your inner thigh under the table
He will sweep you off your feet
but forget to grab you shoes
Because you see
he doesn't want you to stand on your own
Like an air traffic controller
He is dictating your landings and departures
But all you want is a departure
Warmer skies
And a healthier landing
But he keeps you
Firmly planted on the ground
And then He bribes you with affection
and later handles you with his tongue
But as his hands cover your mouth
And you feel muffled by his presence
you lose yourself
You used to be a rainbow
You used to be seen only in technicolor
Now you're wearing black
submitting to his obsession
your simple lies turn him into a monster
and you're quivering like a child
Scared to put a toe down
Because his anger lurks beneath the bed
holding the blanket close around your neck
You beg for his forgiveness
He calls you his princess
and builds you a tower
But girl it doesn't matter how long you grow your hair
He will find a way to criticize it anyway
And you're bound to pay
I can't satisfy his anger
He hides behind it
Jabbing your sides with little suggestions
That dress is to short
That's a lot of skin
Excuse me ************
Who's body am I in?
And I don't need a fairy tale
What's it to ya anyway
I'm just a bird with a broken wing
You see I used to have two
One for luck
And the other for navigation
So why is leaving him resound with hesitation
And somedays I dream of a different life
One that's filled with witty repartee
And symphonies
Cellos play sweet melodies
And I take my two wings and fly between the notes
And I float
Catching air
I'm up there
But he takes his water hose and shoots me down
Because he only likes me wet and vulnerable
I think he is catching on
So I turn into sand
And taking a fistful he squeezes
Jesus
I'm falling through the cracks of his insecurities
And I find myself there
And I dust myself off
And fly
That's goodbye.
Feb 11, 2013
Feb 11, 2013 at 12:26 AM UTC
We don’t dance here anymore.
We balance on wobbly stools
and order PBRs with whiskey backs,
sidestepping the looks we tend to give
each other in the mirror behind the bar.
Tonight is Christmas Eve again.
Again, tonight is Christmas Eve.
Reflected in a frosted window
framed by multicolored lights,
our waitress wears a miniskirt
and candy cane-striped tights.
Her laugh rings like the silver
bell of tomorrow’s hangover.
We are not the ones racking
another game of eight-ball
or feeding the jukebox or
tossing darts at the wall.
That’s not us, the hipster couple
exchanging sardonic repartee,
clever tattoos comingling as
they trade kisses in the corner.
Could that ever have been us?
Here is where we *****
it up and tamp it down.
Here is where we wait
for our future to finish
its careful unwrapping.
Here is where we say
thank you and drown,
tangled together in
ribbons of twilight.
Dec 22, 2017
Dec 22, 2017 at 4:55 PM UTC
Me for you and you for me,
That’s how I want our love to be,
You for me and me for you,
Forever, not just one but two.
Me for you and you for me,
For swapping witty repartee,
And being great, when good would do,
For being ever next to you.
You for me and me for you,
For agreeing that we disagree,
For being stuck to you like glue,
A self-adhesive devotee.
Me for you and you for me,
For making lack of trust taboo,
For making love a guarantee,
For breaking into my igloo.
Me for you and you for me,
No euphemism will do for me,
The only thing I know that’s true,
Is you for me, and me for you.
r1.4
Jan 3, 2014
Jan 3, 2014 at 11:04 AM UTC
I cannot hear.
Sound has lost its crispness.
Articulated consonants
have merged into blurred murmurings.
The loss was not sudden.
No cataclysmic happening
but rather a gentle deterioration
of a faculty, once taken for granted.
Normal conversation, once a joy,
has become a struggle.
Repartee, chit chat, a little banter
is no more.
The quality of sound
once reverberated and filled spaces;
now I have no spaces – just tinnitus,
constantly grinding away.
To be sightless is to be aware,
with other senses sharpened;
but deafness leads to
introspection, loneliness and deep despair.
The half blind wear their glasses
and look so very wise.
The deaf man, with his hearing aid,
dithers.
I should know.
~
Dec 30, 2010
Dec 30, 2010 at 6:00 AM UTC
I will write something,
but maybe tomorrow.
Tonight , which has all too quickly become morning,
I am drinking wine.
And watching pre recorded TV.
Undateables, which gives hope to to the hapless
and help for the hopeless,
Is, tonight, enough for me.
Tomorrow, I shall wake and Impress you all, with my witty prose,
and my clever repartee.
But tonight, which is morning,
I will think on it
and wait upon Calliope.
Feb 5, 2013
Feb 5, 2013 at 8:47 PM UTC
Ornery odious ordinate ostensive opulence ornate optimal
Motivity meatus meticulous morsel moribund mendacity monstrance
Lucidity lingam loquacity longevous licentious lurid languishing
Votary volition verve venery vector vauntness vast
Talismanically telepathy tantamount terrestrial tellurian transition tractive
Idolatry -ics incus ictus ichor icon icky
Yogi yowl yore yoni yerk yenta yantra
Gimpy gesticulation genre gestational glitch genuflection grandiose
Dastardly douceur denouement denigrational deplorable despicable desperate
Paltry potentate portentous plagiaristic pandemic plenipotentiary plenary
Jouncy jocular jeopardy jettison jurisprudence jaunt juxtaposition
Ramify repartee radix recital rectitude rendition repertoire
Beastly bartizan bodacious belligerent brusque blatant blasphemously
Enmity exigency exacerbation extemporaneous edifice eulogy exoneration
Zoolatry zoomorphic zilch Zephyr zoic zygosity zealotry
Sultry solace subtlety substantiation suborn subliminal sensorium
Unity ultimatum usurping unfathomable uncanny unbridled unary
***** hornswoggle horizon huckster homogeny holistic heuristic
Nugatory notch nostrum notorious nihilism nimiety nimbus
Wrathy wreak wroth wrought wrest wrangle warranty
Artistry autonomy articulation agility acuity asperity acerbity
Keeky kangaroo court kowtow kobold kleptomania kinetics kinesiology
Xylography xenophile xerophilous xylophagous xylem xanadu xenobiotic
Critically credibility critique coercion conjugational conjunctive corporeal
Queasy quasi quantum quintessence quagmire quixotic quantify
Flighty flippant flamboyance faux pas fornicatious fictitious finite
Jan 6, 2017
Jan 6, 2017 at 11:39 PM UTC
Optimal monstrance languishing vast tractive icky yantra grandiose plenary juxtaposition repertoire blasphemously exoneration zealotry sensorium unary heuristic nimbus warranty acerbity kinesiology xenobiotic corporeal quantify finite
Ornate mendacity lurid vauntness transition icon yenta genuflection despicable plenipotentiary jaunt rendition blatant eulogy zygosity subliminal unbridled holistic nimiety wrangle asperity kinetics xanadu conjunctive quixotic fictitious
Opulence moribund licentious vector tellurian ichor yerk glitch deplorable pandemic jurisprudence rectitude brusque edifice zoic suborn uncanny homogeny nihilism wrest acuity kleptomania xylem conjugational quagmire fornications
Ostensive morsel longevous venery terrestrial ictus yoni gestational denigrational plagiaristic jettison recital belligerent extemporaneous Zephyr substantiation unfathomable huckster notorious wrought agility Kobold xylophagous coercion quintessence faux pas
Ordinate meticulous loquacity verve tantamount incus yore genre denouement portentous jeopardy radix bodacious exacerbational zilch subtlety usurping horizon nostrum wroth articulation kowtow xerophilous critique quantum flamboyance
Odious meatus lingam volition telepathy –ics yowl gesticulation douceur potentate jocular repartee bartizan exigency zoomorphic solace ultimatum hornswoggle notch wreak autonomy kangaroo court xenophile credibility quasi flippant
Ornery motivity lucidity votary talismanically idolatry yogi gimpy dastardly paltry jouncy ramify beastly enmity zoolatry sultry unity ***** nugatory wrathy artistry keeky xylography critically queasy flighty
Jan 6, 2017
Jan 6, 2017 at 9:16 PM UTC
Let this be spark to collective action!
The exercise of natural freedoms and equality.
Sever attachments, break from your safety,
from the shores of who you think you are.
Set sail with faith,
placing ideologies in abeyance.
Set sail with soul songs,
join with saints and strangers
harmoniously singing.
Be ALL as One
in open repartee.
Brothers and sisters, all of a wild nature–
none left uninvited.
Friends at heart all, all welcome!
Who shall be chief navigator?
Trace sensitive fingers on contour maps the Universe makes.
As we navigate, we invent.
With tiniest of maps (the same is the largest
with infinite pathways) we are destined exactly
to found and inhabit New Earth.
Who brings gifts of intuitive sensing?
Everyone?
Shall we draw straws?
Any can buddy up with the experts
at the rational sextant.
Every single she and he of us
is a guiding star.
Accordingly, let’s begin
convergent conversations of stars.
Of the humans who choose to stay behind, let us love them.
Let us love them and let’s be on our way!
It is enough now that many have had good intentions,
have spoken authentically, enthusiastically.
Yet they do not wish to enter in.
Each in his or her own time.
Others have voiced opposition,
demonstrated resistance.
Some others — stuck in apathy,
in numbness, powerlessness.
Is fear of ****** death
the ultimate stopping?
What is living if living itself
is death?
Are you one who has ears
to hear?
Are you that very passenger
ready to disavow, to disembark?
Have you awakened
to your own alluring whisper?
Let us begin.
Jul 8, 2017
Jul 8, 2017 at 10:44 AM UTC
I'll reach that midnight train first
A surreal journey, too uncanny
Wonder how the heck I got here
All tied up, yet sought release . . . .
So many passages, so many trails
I follow you down every ambiguous path
Oh dear, will I get lost in this?
In which warren will I find you hiding?
I tie tape across your red mouth
Make you walk an unsteady plank
Across a deep chasm of unknown
Don't slip now or dare scream out!
In glass, reflected in the sun
You look at me and smile oh-so sweet
But refracted light splits up and breaks
Now you think I'm someone else . . . .
Am getting off this Roundabout
Too draining for my psyche
Ah, shoulda figured the universe owes me
A massive kick in the teeth, alas!
You're makin' jam, and I'm so nuts 'bout you
We are sandwiched together, just you and me
But small consolation prize....is all you see
Bicycle has TWO wheels, for a reason!
You want me to stop.
As you stand, hands tied behind your back.
As i stand so so close to you, would you look away . . . .
Would you want me to stop? Ok. I'll stop . . . . no, please!
Shhh, now now....easy now....hush, baby
Think I'll stuff yer ******* into your mouth
And fire away the ready rockets inside you
Come, baby....please feel what's in my pocket . . . .
See through the window of your soul
Don't fret now, I won't judge at all
Come closer, let me feel your heat
You're giving just what I need right now.
I'm making you feel all kindsa things
Yet you fear to utter what they are
So scared you are, I wonder why
Oi, no running in the hallways here!
Clouds at last, I see you now
Oh, the pretty pictures that you paint
On the waiting canvass of my thoughts
In such bright and vivid repartee.
Can you feel me, baby? Here I am...
Heavy love hanging in the late hours
Feel me now...I know you can feel me
Slide my sword into your sheath . . . .
See you peep still through the window of my mind
Nose pressed against the glass
Lucky to live half a lifetime in an afternoon
We leave soft, grey messages in the sand.
Still wonder how we ever got here
You're so open and so giving
Loved ones often kick a gift horse down
They see not wonders of the gem, all hid.
So, I have a thing I want to know
Now, what is it you really want?
Cos, you were once in love; so deeply fooled
Carried away by reflections in a glass . . . .
By Star Toucher, 8 February 2013
Feb 8, 2013
Feb 8, 2013 at 12:35 AM UTC
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Aug 14, 2020
Aug 14, 2020 at 2:55 AM UTC