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"sloping" poems
I am told to believe in myself look past the flaws imperfections, because all those things define the uniqueness within my body, my soul but what I see when I take that prolonged, aching glance into a mirror as cloudless as a summer evening is everything I am told doesn’t matter but how do I ignore veins crawling up my legs like the spiders they're named after or fat under my skin that seems to expand so widely it is impossible for my eyes not to trip upon it and wide hips unfocused gaze gaping pores unshaped lips rippling marks etched on my skin as a form of punishment for being myself sloping thighs feet like the twin towers giant tall wide deep is that what I am? uncertain unknown unloved but in the end just “unique”? human we’re all just human but then why do I feel so mis understood?
0
Oct 4, 2014
Oct 4, 2014 at 1:52 AM UTC
unique
Brown sugar sapotas Blending with custard alfonso mangos And bold sweet lime juice Georgette saris Pairing with uncut diamond necklaces Mixed with peals and rubies Gently sloping palm trees Swaying in balmy sultry air And hazy golden sunsets Frenetic yellow autos Competing with dusty zipping mopeds Mixed with ambulating pedestrians Aromas of cumin Blending with the sewage Other times with incense Glows of brass oil lamps Singing in hums of prayer Added with turmeric's incantations Brightly-patterned salwars Accentuating gemstone bindis Comfy fitted leggings Savory masala dosas Coupling coconut chutney Meter-high filter coffee
0
Apr 23, 2012
Apr 23, 2012 at 8:17 AM UTC
Treasures of Chennai, India
stranded in the beauty of her throat shunted her preference a short drop in a bulwark twisting knot a hanged ghastly pendent her feet arching desperately in search of a floor they will never find obedient! yet her face a hideous insubordination she dissolves like tropical butter a screaming silence a falling prayer shuddering with downward sloping limbs she blue hemorrhaging eyes wobbled bulging to break into paradise tumbling like a dizzied cyclops as numb lipped jutting howls turn cement always willing to help he scums for her in pulsing heaves of beatific gush
0
Oct 1, 2018
Oct 1, 2018 at 10:46 AM UTC
Stranded
your clean lips and serene eyes are instruments they, with fearless precision play those neatly folded tufts of skin on either side are speakers they, with unnatural ease amplify the epidermal pyramid sloping symmetrically amid your instruments is a songstress she, with innate necessity sings the song of life your head is a concert music to my troubled eyes ©Jason Cole
0
Mar 23, 2015
Mar 23, 2015 at 10:22 PM UTC
Concert Head
I feel as if my head is sliding off my neck like ice cream melting down the cone. I am a witch melting, shrinking smaller as my spine stacks horizontally like shiplap. My body has been refurbished into a pinball machine. Something so tiny as a silver ball destroys so much. It bullets through my body, shooting off like Cuban missiles. I feel the turmoil and chaos seeping through the gutters of this old home of bones. It's like spilled oil sludging through my blood vessels or rats scattering through a sewer, nibbling and feasting away on these muscles of mine until they are frayed like gnawed-on cable wires. At odd hours of the night when time is propelled by the safe travels of breath (that weave in and out like Victorians at a ball) from sleepy children who have yet been touched by monsters or nymphs, whereas each of my breaths steer Odysseus's weather-beaten boat through ten years of treachery. My heavy, melting head slowly sloping like clay off a bust makes its home on my dingy pillow as I lay on a prison bed with cold shackles around my ankles that make my bones shatter into a mosaic as if that could shrink my ankles so I can slip out. I feel like a chained hawk at these hours of the night when I just want to fly until I screech to a halt and flail over the cliff that waterfalls into the ends of the universe. I'd be reluctant at first, perhaps, but what other escape does one have other than to make an autopsist's Y-incision on one's body, then slip out like a hermit crab freeing himself from his heavy shell? Embarking onto a new dimension where there's hope for a radical swap of atoms that don't shape a crippled, deteriorating human is the only choice when you want to live a life other than what you were cursed with. May we then find peace and live as naked souls bearing no heavy shells.
0
Jul 7, 2017
Jul 7, 2017 at 4:53 AM UTC
to be without shell
I feel as if my head is sliding off my neck like ice cream melting down the cone. I am a witch melting, shrinking smaller as my spine stacks horizontally like shiplap. My body has been refurbished into a pinball machine. Something so tiny as a silver ball destroys so much. It bullets through my body, shooting off like Cuban missiles. I feel the turmoil and chaos seeping through the gutters of this old home of bones. It's like spilled oil sludging through my blood vessels or rats scattering through a sewer, nibbling and feasting away on these muscles of mine until they are frayed like gnawed-on cable wires. At odd hours of the night when time is propelled by the safe travels of breath (that weave in and out like Victorians at a ball) from sleepy children who have yet been touched by monsters or nymphs, whereas each of my breaths steer Odysseus's weather-beaten boat through ten years of treachery. My heavy, melting head slowly sloping like clay off a bust makes its home on my dingy pillow as I lay on a prison bed with cold shackles around my ankles that make my bones shatter into a mosaic as if that could shrink my ankles so I can slip out. I feel like a chained hawk at these hours of the night when I just want to fly until I screech to a halt and flail over the cliff that waterfalls into the ends of the universe. I'd be reluctant at first, perhaps, but what other escape does one have other than to make an autopsist's Y-incision on one's body, then slip out like a hermit crab freeing himself from his heavy shell? Embarking onto a new dimension where there's hope for a radical swap of atoms that don't shape a crippled, deteriorating human is the only choice when you want to live a life other than what you were cursed with. May we then find peace and live as naked souls bearing no heavy shells.
Continue reading...
1
The grass flickers, as the Wind pushes it down, in A gentle but determined Motion, sweeping upwards to Swirl the blue-grey clouds Around the radio tower, before Dissipating into the milky Sky, which at this moment Is the lightest shade of Blue, an open innocent shade Of blue, like an angelic birthday Cake, the pinker clouds, whose Graceful tendrils embrace the Air, and dancing twirl across the Peaceful summer skyscape Down below them, the Emerald stalks of corn stand, Silent sentinels, awaiting the Coming of the dawn, they too Feel the pushing of the wind, but Brush it off, over their shoulders, And continue their silent watching On the sloping sides of the hill, the Growling pines, resplendent in their Glimmering needles, reflect the fading Light, off the clouds, as the sun sinks, Beneath the horizon, and I watch them Silently on my bike, the only thing I can hear, is the swish of the wind, And the hum and whirring of the Pedals, as my bike and I, we glide up The hill, and down the hill, and Around the posts that are meant To keep the cars from disturbing, this Peaceful walking path A while later, we crest a hill, now Having past the town, I see the work Of the persistent wind, the clouds Now whipped into a curling wave, Of pink and blue-black, spilling Over the horizon, behind the red-roofed Country houses, which are strangely Reminiscent of those old, red, barns Which would sit abandoned in Fields of perpetual wheat, and, Through the turning of the seasons, Would rot away into timbers, with No one left to remember, what They were, or why they remain Now we have ridden in a loop, my Bike clicks as I change gears, to Crest a hill and coast down, at high Speed, between the guard rails and The road, with the wind kicking Up behind me and whisking an Upcoming tree in to a fluttery Flurry of leaves and branches, while Below a stream cuts a field, and, Skirting a pen, passes by a pinto Pony, I think it was, that was just Standing there, as we rode past, Onto the cobblestones and around A bend, the group splits, some going A different route, but I want to come Back the way I came, and I ride Beside the highway, listening to The chirp of the crickets and the Hum of the wheels against the Cold, pavement, while up the hill The verdant pines bob their bows, Up and down, waving, waving, The crashing blue-black wave has Rolled, on past the tower now, it Is crashing down over the silent Sentinels, and I watch quietly as The wind rolls down the hill, and Whirls some leaves, making the Grass flicker in the setting sun.
0
Mar 1, 2012
Mar 1, 2012 at 2:35 PM UTC
A Bike Ride Through the Countryside
The grass flickers, as the Wind pushes it down, in A gentle but determined Motion, sweeping upwards to Swirl the blue-grey clouds Around the radio tower, before Dissipating into the milky Sky, which at this moment Is the lightest shade of Blue, an open innocent shade Of blue, like an angelic birthday Cake, the pinker clouds, whose Graceful tendrils embrace the Air, and dancing twirl across the Peaceful summer skyscape Down below them, the Emerald stalks of corn stand, Silent sentinels, awaiting the Coming of the dawn, they too Feel the pushing of the wind, but Brush it off, over their shoulders, And continue their silent watching On the sloping sides of the hill, the Growling pines, resplendent in their Glimmering needles, reflect the fading Light, off the clouds, as the sun sinks, Beneath the horizon, and I watch them Silently on my bike, the only thing I can hear, is the swish of the wind, And the hum and whirring of the Pedals, as my bike and I, we glide up The hill, and down the hill, and Around the posts that are meant To keep the cars from disturbing, this Peaceful walking path A while later, we crest a hill, now Having past the town, I see the work Of the persistent wind, the clouds Now whipped into a curling wave, Of pink and blue-black, spilling Over the horizon, behind the red-roofed Country houses, which are strangely Reminiscent of those old, red, barns Which would sit abandoned in Fields of perpetual wheat, and, Through the turning of the seasons, Would rot away into timbers, with No one left to remember, what They were, or why they remain Now we have ridden in a loop, my Bike clicks as I change gears, to Crest a hill and coast down, at high Speed, between the guard rails and The road, with the wind kicking Up behind me and whisking an Upcoming tree in to a fluttery Flurry of leaves and branches, while Below a stream cuts a field, and, Skirting a pen, passes by a pinto Pony, I think it was, that was just Standing there, as we rode past, Onto the cobblestones and around A bend, the group splits, some going A different route, but I want to come Back the way I came, and I ride Beside the highway, listening to The chirp of the crickets and the Hum of the wheels against the Cold, pavement, while up the hill The verdant pines bob their bows, Up and down, waving, waving, The crashing blue-black wave has Rolled, on past the tower now, it Is crashing down over the silent Sentinels, and I watch quietly as The wind rolls down the hill, and Whirls some leaves, making the Grass flicker in the setting sun.
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78
Yet, my pretty sportive friend, Little is’t to such an end That I praise thy rareness! Other dogs may be thy peers Haply in these drooping ears, And this glossy fairness. But of thee it shall be said, This dog watched beside a bed Day and night unweary— Watched within a curtained room, Where no sunbeam brake the gloom Round the sick and dreary. Roses, gathered for a vase, In that chamber died apace, Beam and breeze resigning. This dog only, waited on, Knowing that when light is gone Love remains for shining. Other dogs in thymy dew Tracked the hares, and followed through Sunny moor or meadow. This dog only, crept and crept Next a languid cheek that slept, Sharing in the shadow. Other dogs of loyal cheer Bounded at the whistle clear, Up the woodside hieing. This dog only, watched in reach Of a faintly uttered speech, Or a louder sighing. And if one or two quick tears Dropped upon his glossy ears, Or a sigh came double— Up he sprang in eager haste, Fawning, fondling, breathing fast, In a tender trouble. And this dog was satisfied If a pale thin hand would glide Down his dewlaps sloping— Which he pushed his nose within, After—platforming his chin On the palm left open.
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4.3k
To Flush, My Dog
We say that flesh has something to boast about, and, to him who believes in the blessedness of sin, it is the only thing to boast about For the promise of smooth, snowy plains, flowing and carrying and rising into hills, and falling gently into sloping valleys, As a form of the Human appearance, is a far greater fate than any other to be known. The shallow pleasures of our lives seem, to me, the one things that make it bearable. And not only pleasures in the form of flesh, but in the form of every small bit of momentary gladness we force upon ourselves.
0
Aug 22, 2011
Aug 22, 2011 at 11:23 PM UTC
More to Boast
i threw rocks at time tried to shatter the face of each clock that mocked me today, but i was unable to slow the seconds that pulled me away from you feeling childish, i gave up and time paid no mind to me as the bus sped away and i walked home, my mind spinning with visions of plane tickets and suitcases and the spaces hidden around this city that we've been occupying all this time i saw sunshine smiling down upon rough, empty rocks and a hill sloping steep toward the water that we sat by and i saw the places i have yet to show you and i am so sorry, but the happier i am the worse i feel as the days slip past me and i am always one step closer to leaving
0
Apr 25, 2014
Apr 25, 2014 at 2:29 AM UTC
leaving (2)
The legends won't tell of Arthur when he fell in love when he swooned for the arm that held Excalibur extended out to him how he did a double take and stuttered and gawked at the simple beauty of her flawless freckled skin. And in this moment I behold the Lady of the Lake her divine completeness: holy and whole. Elegant sloping shoulders a regal neckline pleading to be united with loving lips in an everlasting caress. Water droplets dripping from her form-- reluctant, wishing they could reverse the laws of nature fall up from the surface to bead and cling to skin again-- desiring to be as close as we as she entrances me with emerald eyes rivers of red hair enchanting lips that know no equal. She's won me over and she drags me under below the water beneath the lapping waves. The ripples on the surface echo my farewell to the world.
0
Jun 2, 2014
Jun 2, 2014 at 1:23 AM UTC
Lady of the Lake
Mariana in the Moated Grange by Alfred, Lord Tennyson With blackest moss the flower-plots Were thickly crusted, one and all: The rusted nails fell from the knots That held the pear to the gable-wall. The broken sheds look'd sad and strange: Unlifted was the clinking latch; Weeded and worn the ancient thatch Upon the lonely moated grange. She only said, "My life is dreary, He cometh not," she said; She said, "I am aweary, aweary, I would that I were dead!" Her tears fell with the dews at even; Her tears fell ere the dews were dried; She could not look on the sweet heaven, Either at morn or eventide. After the flitting of the bats, When thickest dark did trance the sky, She drew her casement-curtain by, And glanced athwart the glooming flats. She only said, "The night is dreary, He cometh not," she said; She said, "I am aweary, aweary, I would that I were dead!" Upon the middle of the night, Waking she heard the night-fowl crow: The **** sung out an hour ere light: From the dark fen the oxen's low Came to her: without hope of change, In sleep she seem'd to walk forlorn, Till cold winds woke the gray-eyed morn About the lonely moated grange. She only said, "The day is dreary, He cometh not," she said; She said, "I am aweary, aweary, I would that I were dead!" About a stone-cast from the wall A sluice with blacken'd waters slept, And o'er it many, round and small, The cluster'd marish-mosses crept. Hard by a poplar shook alway, All silver-green with gnarled bark: For leagues no other tree did mark The level waste, the rounding gray. She only said, "My life is dreary, He cometh not," she said; She said "I am aweary, aweary I would that I were dead!" And ever when the moon was low, And the shrill winds were up and away, In the white curtain, to and fro, She saw the gusty shadow sway. But when the moon was very low And wild winds bound within their cell, The shadow of the poplar fell Upon her bed, across her brow. She only said, "The night is dreary, He cometh not," she said; She said "I am aweary, aweary, I would that I were dead!" All day within the dreamy house, The doors upon their hinges creak'd; The blue fly sung in the pane; the mouse Behind the mouldering wainscot shriek'd, Or from the crevice peer'd about. Old faces glimmer'd thro' the doors Old footsteps trod the upper floors, Old voices called her from without. She only said, "My life is dreary, He cometh not," she said; She said, "I am aweary, aweary, I would that I were dead!" The sparrow's chirrup on the roof, The slow clock ticking, and the sound Which to the wooing wind aloof The poplar made, did all confound Her sense; but most she loathed the hour When the thick-moted sunbeam lay Athwart the chambers, and the day Was sloping toward his western bower. Then said she, "I am very dreary, He will not come," she said; She wept, "I am aweary, aweary, Oh God, that I were dead!"
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3k
Mariana in the Moated Grange
Mariana in the Moated Grange by Alfred, Lord Tennyson With blackest moss the flower-plots Were thickly crusted, one and all: The rusted nails fell from the knots That held the pear to the gable-wall. The broken sheds look'd sad and strange: Unlifted was the clinking latch; Weeded and worn the ancient thatch Upon the lonely moated grange. She only said, "My life is dreary, He cometh not," she said; She said, "I am aweary, aweary, I would that I were dead!" Her tears fell with the dews at even; Her tears fell ere the dews were dried; She could not look on the sweet heaven, Either at morn or eventide. After the flitting of the bats, When thickest dark did trance the sky, She drew her casement-curtain by, And glanced athwart the glooming flats. She only said, "The night is dreary, He cometh not," she said; She said, "I am aweary, aweary, I would that I were dead!" Upon the middle of the night, Waking she heard the night-fowl crow: The **** sung out an hour ere light: From the dark fen the oxen's low Came to her: without hope of change, In sleep she seem'd to walk forlorn, Till cold winds woke the gray-eyed morn About the lonely moated grange. She only said, "The day is dreary, He cometh not," she said; She said, "I am aweary, aweary, I would that I were dead!" About a stone-cast from the wall A sluice with blacken'd waters slept, And o'er it many, round and small, The cluster'd marish-mosses crept. Hard by a poplar shook alway, All silver-green with gnarled bark: For leagues no other tree did mark The level waste, the rounding gray. She only said, "My life is dreary, He cometh not," she said; She said "I am aweary, aweary I would that I were dead!" And ever when the moon was low, And the shrill winds were up and away, In the white curtain, to and fro, She saw the gusty shadow sway. But when the moon was very low And wild winds bound within their cell, The shadow of the poplar fell Upon her bed, across her brow. She only said, "The night is dreary, He cometh not," she said; She said "I am aweary, aweary, I would that I were dead!" All day within the dreamy house, The doors upon their hinges creak'd; The blue fly sung in the pane; the mouse Behind the mouldering wainscot shriek'd, Or from the crevice peer'd about. Old faces glimmer'd thro' the doors Old footsteps trod the upper floors, Old voices called her from without. She only said, "My life is dreary, He cometh not," she said; She said, "I am aweary, aweary, I would that I were dead!" The sparrow's chirrup on the roof, The slow clock ticking, and the sound Which to the wooing wind aloof The poplar made, did all confound Her sense; but most she loathed the hour When the thick-moted sunbeam lay Athwart the chambers, and the day Was sloping toward his western bower. Then said she, "I am very dreary, He will not come," she said; She wept, "I am aweary, aweary, Oh God, that I were dead!"
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86
Wind swept Wild places the grass it puts on a veritable orchestra of movement as it undulates to the power of the breeze that passes Mountain meadows splashed with a profusion of flowers they jiggle as if there tickled about something or other The crest of the hill bordered with trees sloping down the hill children are running reminiscent of Jack and Jill This utopia of nature sets aside the hurly burly the curvature of the hills still the wind hold the sun just right you it invites Cross these pasture lands the feeding ground of many cattle and sheep the pride of the farmer who keeps Inexorably bound by breed and creed for centuries this way of life flourishes among these native grasses Tender shoots these roots give of their riches the sun and rain gives them a time to reign with joy all reaps Pleasure in the walk letting fingers glide over the heads of tall grasses the silent telling of harmony filled poise Future generations will be brought to these shadowed grounds they too will by their lives express and know contentment Hourly they hold in sod that has known the breath of time as it has passed time and time again it enlivens breaks fourth Sturdy and resplendent it shows all its dependability the same respect settlers knew is found the builders of this continent Long shadows grow upon earths shoulders she knows the good and the bad but through resilience remains unconquered The distant mountain stands eternal guard, it affects rainfall, mutes the winds force guarantying a peaceful valley Perpetuity is taught in this land tomorrows unfold from days gone by with regularity they build and keep the way open Stewardship the blessed hope working in harmony with all that surrounds at days end this will be the final sum and tally The herdsman knows the time he invests it well always with broad vision does he act in this wisdom all will be victorious
0
Jan 1, 2012
Jan 1, 2012 at 8:45 PM UTC
Wind swept
Wind swept Wild places the grass it puts on a veritable orchestra of movement as it undulates to the power of the breeze that passes Mountain meadows splashed with a profusion of flowers they jiggle as if there tickled about something or other The crest of the hill bordered with trees sloping down the hill children are running reminiscent of Jack and Jill This utopia of nature sets aside the hurly burly the curvature of the hills still the wind hold the sun just right you it invites Cross these pasture lands the feeding ground of many cattle and sheep the pride of the farmer who keeps Inexorably bound by breed and creed for centuries this way of life flourishes among these native grasses Tender shoots these roots give of their riches the sun and rain gives them a time to reign with joy all reaps Pleasure in the walk letting fingers glide over the heads of tall grasses the silent telling of harmony filled poise Future generations will be brought to these shadowed grounds they too will by their lives express and know contentment Hourly they hold in sod that has known the breath of time as it has passed time and time again it enlivens breaks fourth Sturdy and resplendent it shows all its dependability the same respect settlers knew is found the builders of this continent Long shadows grow upon earths shoulders she knows the good and the bad but through resilience remains unconquered The distant mountain stands eternal guard, it affects rainfall, mutes the winds force guarantying a peaceful valley Perpetuity is taught in this land tomorrows unfold from days gone by with regularity they build and keep the way open Stewardship the blessed hope working in harmony with all that surrounds at days end this will be the final sum and tally The herdsman knows the time he invests it well always with broad vision does he act in this wisdom all will be victorious
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17
I The stars are double-weighted tonight. bulging, beating, they sink from their proper lurches. One by one across the murky evening they sputter out. What natural light remains seeps from that subtly gaudy bauble of a moon. II Peeled eucalyptus, ice-plant, new-mown summer grass, dandelion, sloping hill, carved stone bench, the view, the reflected city-light off the bay water, white-washed near-tenements. I am firmly locked up, chained in a bone cage of chemically manipulated cranial plates; serotonin, synapses, dopamine, dendrite create a web like seaweed constricting the sea; this computer of a head calculates, oscillates, and processes the sensory. III My body is a tattered jib sail flowing in the light sprinkling rain: the simmer of the gale: a hollow cathedral abandoned by the believers: a vessel for my marrow: an imaginary catalyst for profundity: an incarceration: a hull of particles arrested: some part of an experience.
0
Aug 25, 2012
Aug 25, 2012 at 1:46 PM UTC
Kate Sessions
The photo reminded her of bruised fruit. Well first and foremost:fruit. Her body, curled around itself, sheltering the fibrous crunchy pit of her, her body white and frayed looking, rounded buttock, calf gently sloping, feet modest, willowy toes toenails like shale face blurred, questionable dark spots where her eyes could have been. they closed as the shudder buckled, her mouth sagged open, lip lolling to one side, brow ancient furrowed like folds of sand nudged by a lazy tide. None of it concise, only guessing. Her knees brought up, squeezed against small crunch-able chest. Full, heavy with pulp (stringy sweet, what snags on the teeth) but what if it were to fall from an appreciable height? Filmy is the flesh. Daring the looker to look closer, see what mite be hidden there. Ripe:questionable. Sweet like nothing, pouring from the corners of a mouth: what a bite it would be. That first bite. The bruising comes in when she thinks of the brain beneath, that open, limitless figure so pale and forefront and brimming with intent, so crush-able with careless fist, so lovable with thirsty mouth. But what of the mind that put her before you, that turned her vulnerable, shameless, open for discussion? Put her before you. naked.
0
Feb 2, 2010
Feb 2, 2010 at 1:01 PM UTC
Figure Study 3
One glossy raven perched, stately, atop a snowy hill, Unearthly Long flowing wings, hanging down the slope, framing the hill on the face of which, were interposed two glacial ponds of blue. Between these pools ran a simple strip of sloped marble, But at the base of this was the most gentle depression in the snow. In disbelief I observed two rows of strawberries, blossoming, heavy laden with the richest red. Each gentle bite of these more delicious than the last. I continued my survey, down to a long narrow hill of the freshest snow. Here I came upon a wide expanse, a plain, two long, slender berms extended at opposite sides. But this was no true plain, and all the better for that, For two equal mounds of snow enchanted the landscape. The setting sun cast a pink light at the peak of each pale globe, So beautiful I wept. As I passed between their valley the snowy distance continued. I observed an infinitesimal sloping on the Western and Eastern edges. This expanse, perfect of any true blemish, was punctuated by the shallowest little empty pond at its narrowest width; which only served to enhance the beauty. The length of this snowed plain was far greater than its width, the edges slowly creeping into the narrowest part before flaring out to a wide expanse. And there in the lowlands was The Delta, to the side of which extended two of the longest and most shapely tapering ridges I had ever observed; each ending with graceful peaks. But that Delta! Though snowy, the darkest , shortest scrub had capped its mound. At the apex of The Delta was a precipice, on its face a cavern, pink walls glistening with wetness, at the caverns base, a cave. Its tunnel, with walls ribbed, was warm and humid despite the landscape of snow. This is the landscape I cherish most.
0
May 28, 2018
May 28, 2018 at 9:50 PM UTC
Landscape of My Love
One glossy raven perched, stately, atop a snowy hill, Unearthly Long flowing wings, hanging down the slope, framing the hill on the face of which, were interposed two glacial ponds of blue. Between these pools ran a simple strip of sloped marble, But at the base of this was the most gentle depression in the snow. In disbelief I observed two rows of strawberries, blossoming, heavy laden with the richest red. Each gentle bite of these more delicious than the last. I continued my survey, down to a long narrow hill of the freshest snow. Here I came upon a wide expanse, a plain, two long, slender berms extended at opposite sides. But this was no true plain, and all the better for that, For two equal mounds of snow enchanted the landscape. The setting sun cast a pink light at the peak of each pale globe, So beautiful I wept. As I passed between their valley the snowy distance continued. I observed an infinitesimal sloping on the Western and Eastern edges. This expanse, perfect of any true blemish, was punctuated by the shallowest little empty pond at its narrowest width; which only served to enhance the beauty. The length of this snowed plain was far greater than its width, the edges slowly creeping into the narrowest part before flaring out to a wide expanse. And there in the lowlands was The Delta, to the side of which extended two of the longest and most shapely tapering ridges I had ever observed; each ending with graceful peaks. But that Delta! Though snowy, the darkest , shortest scrub had capped its mound. At the apex of The Delta was a precipice, on its face a cavern, pink walls glistening with wetness, at the caverns base, a cave. Its tunnel, with walls ribbed, was warm and humid despite the landscape of snow. This is the landscape I cherish most.
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31
Hello old friend, With your tall sweeping evergreens Towering almost endlessly Into a blue clear sky The endless swell of traffic Cars peeling down the street The smell of roasted coffee beans From some hole-in-the-wall cafe The obvious transplant donning an umbrella in the Autumnal warm rain The light sprinkling of water enough To nurture the verdant green Hello old friend, Mt. Rainier, she greets me, Looming ever majestically Over expanses of tree and road Her white peaks cresting over Fields of blossoming flowers The tulip fields scattered across the sloping Skagit Valley, her vineyards spanning for miles and miles Hello old friend, Seattle's grungy nature Masked by her streets of trendy Cafes and farm-to-table restaurants Her mom and pop cafes Her canvas gray dress marred by graffiti And street tags The busker on the street corner panhandling for change The homeless sheltering under a cardboard blanket outside of a Starbuck's The transplant with the umbrella stopping down to drop change in their jar The crumpled dollar The locals who pointedly ignore him on their way to work, to school, back home, to somewhere...anywhere... The constant dazed bustle The stench and pungent odor of **** Curling around every seedy corner and Affluent street crossing Hello old friend, It's been a while Let me nestle into your newness A new coast greets me across the horizon Replaced by homespun everything Pastoral fields where the bovine and equine reside Hello old friend, I suppose you're home now I suppose you're home...
0
Oct 30, 2021
Oct 30, 2021 at 10:46 PM UTC
My Old Friend
Hello old friend, With your tall sweeping evergreens Towering almost endlessly Into a blue clear sky The endless swell of traffic Cars peeling down the street The smell of roasted coffee beans From some hole-in-the-wall cafe The obvious transplant donning an umbrella in the Autumnal warm rain The light sprinkling of water enough To nurture the verdant green Hello old friend, Mt. Rainier, she greets me, Looming ever majestically Over expanses of tree and road Her white peaks cresting over Fields of blossoming flowers The tulip fields scattered across the sloping Skagit Valley, her vineyards spanning for miles and miles Hello old friend, Seattle's grungy nature Masked by her streets of trendy Cafes and farm-to-table restaurants Her mom and pop cafes Her canvas gray dress marred by graffiti And street tags The busker on the street corner panhandling for change The homeless sheltering under a cardboard blanket outside of a Starbuck's The transplant with the umbrella stopping down to drop change in their jar The crumpled dollar The locals who pointedly ignore him on their way to work, to school, back home, to somewhere...anywhere... The constant dazed bustle The stench and pungent odor of **** Curling around every seedy corner and Affluent street crossing Hello old friend, It's been a while Let me nestle into your newness A new coast greets me across the horizon Replaced by homespun everything Pastoral fields where the bovine and equine reside Hello old friend, I suppose you're home now I suppose you're home...
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44
Noting how the birds believe in courtship on grass in trees with song in sky They seek each other-- hoping dancing singing Starting nests to please and bringing food and silly trinkets Cooing muttering flappings Taking so much time He with color and display a-strutting She, founders tentative in disbelief around the edges of his glory mesmerized All a tender sloping toward desire
0
Apr 13, 2018
Apr 13, 2018 at 11:31 AM UTC
How Birds Do It
i. picture this, just for a second. instead of waving from a mile away, we walk up the gently sloping hill together, side by side. the sky sheds its bruises above us. we could hold hands, if you wanted. what do you see in the morning clouds? tell me what it felt like, to swallow a star. ii. i think of you all the time. i’m getting used to the weird volcanic eruptions in my chest when i see you leaning against the front gates at school or lacing up your shoes or when you tell me how much you hate durian, or whatever. you’ve got a habit of inclining your head slightly when you say “all right” or “okay.” i’ve noticed all kinds of things. i wish i didn’t. iii. but tell me more about yourself. what’s your favorite color? do you get along with your sister? are you content here, with me, lying on a vast expanse of green on a dying planet, or do you still dream of colonizing a different soil? where do you go, when you get tired of running? iv. here. give me your palms. look—your lifeline, strong and sturdy and sure. i’d like to trace your veins with sharpie someday (or perhaps even with my own hands, if you would let me). when you cross the finish line next week, maybe you’ll throw your arms up, the universal victory gesture, and maybe you’ll think of me the same way i think of you. maybe. just maybe. v. so let’s ditch the world tomorrow and get coffee together after school. let’s tell jokes and forget everything else exists, and no, you don’t have to worry about the bill.
0
Mar 31, 2016
Mar 31, 2016 at 9:01 PM UTC
because I like you (a lot) and I'd be lucky if (if) you liked me, too
i. picture this, just for a second. instead of waving from a mile away, we walk up the gently sloping hill together, side by side. the sky sheds its bruises above us. we could hold hands, if you wanted. what do you see in the morning clouds? tell me what it felt like, to swallow a star. ii. i think of you all the time. i’m getting used to the weird volcanic eruptions in my chest when i see you leaning against the front gates at school or lacing up your shoes or when you tell me how much you hate durian, or whatever. you’ve got a habit of inclining your head slightly when you say “all right” or “okay.” i’ve noticed all kinds of things. i wish i didn’t. iii. but tell me more about yourself. what’s your favorite color? do you get along with your sister? are you content here, with me, lying on a vast expanse of green on a dying planet, or do you still dream of colonizing a different soil? where do you go, when you get tired of running? iv. here. give me your palms. look—your lifeline, strong and sturdy and sure. i’d like to trace your veins with sharpie someday (or perhaps even with my own hands, if you would let me). when you cross the finish line next week, maybe you’ll throw your arms up, the universal victory gesture, and maybe you’ll think of me the same way i think of you. maybe. just maybe. v. so let’s ditch the world tomorrow and get coffee together after school. let’s tell jokes and forget everything else exists, and no, you don’t have to worry about the bill.
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5
Eight times a year I go barefoot to wish upon the moon. I leave my sterile religion folded neatly in my bedroom closet And go hunting for fairies in my nightgown, Following druid shadows across the sloping midnight lawns.
0
Oct 17, 2012
Oct 17, 2012 at 3:07 AM UTC
Pagan Equinox
This feast-day of the sun, his altar there In the broad west has blazed for vesper-song; And I have loitered in the vale too long And gaze now a belated worshipper. Yet may I not forget that I was ‘ware, So journeying, of his face at intervals Transfigured where the fringed horizon falls,— A fiery bush with coruscating hair. And now that I have climbed and won this height, I must tread downward through the sloping shade And travel the bewildered tracks till night. Yet for this hour I still may here be stayed And see the gold air and the silver fade And the last bird fly into the last light.
0
2k
The Hill Summit
on ruby jacobs walk, a small girl asked us for money for ice cream. she eyed our cones                                 yours, lemon                                 mine, strawberry with a child’s hunger glinting and opportunistic as she held out her palm for coins. i was not yet accustomed to the shapes and sizes, to a dime being smaller than a nickel, and in any case wanted to preserve them for souvenirs so we shook our heads and walked away. a year later, writing this poem, i learned that ruby jacobs was a local restauranteur who, as a boy, illegally sold ice creams for a nickel on the boardwalk.                                                 a nickel is the larger coin                                                 the size of a ten pence piece.                                                 i know that now. the wide atlantic rose from a sloping manicured lawn         star-spangled,                                 like everything here,                                                                 the airborne flag                                                                 above a wide pavilion                                                                 a fanatic wedding cake topper                                                                 against the blood-blue sky.         i slipped out of my shoes and let the white sand burn my feet, and jaggedly fill the spaces between my toes. the atlantic held open its arms though we weren’t, as we imagined,                 looking east                 looking home but south to new jersey, across the bay. the gnarled boardwalk was a song of the twentieth century         a roll-call of mass-market capitalism         here in the city that didn’t invent the concept         but certainly perfected it:                                                 hot dogs                                         amusements                                 ice creams (we’ve covered that)                         fridge magnets                 baseball caps         i bought an espresso cup with a picture of the president and the caption:                          ‘huuuuge!’ i stopped to take a photograph of a space-age building from the fifties which turned out to be                                         a public toilet. later from the sunbaked d train, brooklyn spread out beneath us the houses garnished with flags, then the city coughed us up on seventh avenue and night fell five hours early.
0
Jul 20, 2019
Jul 20, 2019 at 7:51 AM UTC
coney island hymn
on ruby jacobs walk, a small girl asked us for money for ice cream. she eyed our cones                                 yours, lemon                                 mine, strawberry with a child’s hunger glinting and opportunistic as she held out her palm for coins. i was not yet accustomed to the shapes and sizes, to a dime being smaller than a nickel, and in any case wanted to preserve them for souvenirs so we shook our heads and walked away. a year later, writing this poem, i learned that ruby jacobs was a local restauranteur who, as a boy, illegally sold ice creams for a nickel on the boardwalk.                                                 a nickel is the larger coin                                                 the size of a ten pence piece.                                                 i know that now. the wide atlantic rose from a sloping manicured lawn         star-spangled,                                 like everything here,                                                                 the airborne flag                                                                 above a wide pavilion                                                                 a fanatic wedding cake topper                                                                 against the blood-blue sky.         i slipped out of my shoes and let the white sand burn my feet, and jaggedly fill the spaces between my toes. the atlantic held open its arms though we weren’t, as we imagined,                 looking east                 looking home but south to new jersey, across the bay. the gnarled boardwalk was a song of the twentieth century         a roll-call of mass-market capitalism         here in the city that didn’t invent the concept         but certainly perfected it:                                                 hot dogs                                         amusements                                 ice creams (we’ve covered that)                         fridge magnets                 baseball caps         i bought an espresso cup with a picture of the president and the caption:                          ‘huuuuge!’ i stopped to take a photograph of a space-age building from the fifties which turned out to be                                         a public toilet. later from the sunbaked d train, brooklyn spread out beneath us the houses garnished with flags, then the city coughed us up on seventh avenue and night fell five hours early.
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60
The ocean cries its freedom with the passion that is older than its waves. Trembling surface searches for the shore but the moonlight never reciprocated its love. I have seen a hundred lifetimes veiled in a thousand lies. A thousand lies scattered in the sky of a million broken stars. The sloping roof planes try to hold onto the river. The river flows away, shattering the heart of the stony terrain And carrying pebbles as the memory of a faraway love. I have witnessed a hundred rivers crying for a thousand birds. A thousand birds escaping the captivity of a million cages. The restless wind tried to gather memories of the fallen leaves. It makes the grass shiver with an incurable heartache. The decaying era of a forgotten monsoon rain Comes back and saturates the pilgrim of time-worn reminiscences. No story left untold. No heart remained unbroken. All tales got entangled into the epic of the universe.
0
Aug 3, 2018
Aug 3, 2018 at 12:49 PM UTC
The Universe Carries a Million Love Stories
Truly, we are wonderful creatures, drawn to light's undulating swells, Sailors enthralled by the pushing sea's great shuddering We honor these bright particles by our  presence Yet we burrow away, mole men and women for Our most primal act, instinctual to the muscle But still insulted by vanities. (The consequence of consciousness, I suppose) you instructed, "Turn off the last light" Do you not wish to admire me? The tender swell of brain and breast sloping to meet Crags of hipbone jutting promiscuously below the natural waist, natural beauty Wasted by electricity's end I want to take delight in your body, your ****** tongue Quell the minor indiscretions of the day and Give willingly to honesty My ******* two moon over campus, your hand the sky. If the peering leaves won't judge, The least you can do is look me in the eye.
0
Dec 1, 2012
Dec 1, 2012 at 2:53 PM UTC
An Exercise in Humanity