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ryn Dec 2014
Pinholes
punched through
my
canvas of night

An
array of stars
strewn across
Darwin's
blanket of black

Quiet
and
reassuring
are my
Northern Territory
lights

Like salve
to my
mind,
soul
and
inconspicuous cracks
I can see more stars here than I ever could back home...
Incubus' "Wish You Were Here" came to mind.
White Lion Jan 12
This deep sea tower contains
you as a pink open flower

but sky up high
you seem to be a lie,
a passerby.


Am I just an open door
you're looking for,
to find new territory,
or are you sensing that there's more to see
in me?


This deep sea tower contains
you as a pink open flower

but in the sky up high
you seem to be a lie,
a passerby.
Improvised vocalization:
https://jmp.sh/whJdrOo
Vicki Kralapp Aug 2012
The jungle makes its calls, welling up from hollows beyond.
Monkeys and wild things make their way through the spaces in between,
rapping from unseen places on long barriers
and marking their territory.

Sounds of birdsong fill the air calling out to all too few.
Others prowl the paths looking for prey in caves and behind walls.
Packs of banshees laugh as the chorus grows until the final call.
The last bell rings all are free run for home.
All poems are copy written and soul property of Vicki Kralapp.
ryn Oct 2014
On this carousel
You and I
Ringing bells
Time passes by

Scorching bulbs
Ornate bobbing horsies
Enchanting music
Tell of magical stories

I am here
On this side
You are there
Same ****** ride

Opposite ends
Placed we two
We can't see
But each other we knew

Friendly peeks
Directed to you
All I could afford
Keep you in view

Still rotating
Ride goes on
Chasing each other
No closer we've drawn

Enjoy the ride
Soak in the sights
Hold at bay
Reality that bites

Thought about
Getting off
Don't know how to
Come to a solve

Can't hold still
It's eating me alive
Can't just stay
Have to strive

Hand still holding on
One foot dangling
Second thoughts play
But bent on releasing

Take the first step
Don't overthink
Take the leap
Step off the brink

Close my eyes
Time is now
Just let go
Fate I must allow

Ready now
Time came to a freeze
one...two...
three...release


Now off the carousel
Cloying uncertainty
Never been here
Unknown territory

In the music
Found familiarity
Unsure if here
Is where I want to be

What do I do?
Wait a little more?
Hop back on?
Or await what's in store?

Glad I waited
Glad patience I found
There you are...
Coming back round
Madness plays in loops...
A sick little spin on the carousel.
Alice Baker Feb 2016
Dear self,
Tonight is hard.  
You are being flooded
With memories and dreams
And your soul is heavy
With self doubt and destruction.
Your hangs heavy
With thoughts of disgust
And the emotional scars
Sting just as much as the physical ones.

But hey

You are tracing old marks
In your skin
Please, Do not repave them.
Remember all the nights like these?
Your lonely tears will wash away.
And while I cannot promise you that tomorrow
Will be better
But it will be new.
Every path we make
Will diverge into unknown territory
And I promise
You will smile
Again
Poetoftheway Jul 2018
Ilion gray
poet extraordinary
is away
learning the codes hidden in raindrops

no reason for surprise;

for the mountains of Brooklyn, the Manhattan caverns of Sunhenge^, corridors of narrow focus for trapping the declining sun rays,

neither high enough, narrow blinding,
to keep a good man from doing good things that life provides as opportunities
to do the right thing

he muses that it took five years for the other poets to understand our
poem-dreams;
avant-garde he says,
but I laugh,
never felt more misunderstood
and reply take care, be
en garde!

no matter for he is learning a new language,
the codes hidden in raindrops in a land of wheat
once called Indian Territory and eager
await his return so we may
walk along the Brooklyn shoreline,
beginning from under the Brooklyn Bridge
where Washington’s men escaped a British trap

and he can decode for me the whispery thunderous noises of
NY
showers that come up so sudden,  so roughened, but right now,
the seductive sun blinks in Manhattan windowed towers reflecting back on to our East River as golden blinks of nature

We will walk lost in the absorption of our
different commonalities, holding the hands of
his young son, and my Wendy,
both of them equal in possession of round saucer eyes
that give us poems

He calls me me friend,
I call him brother, teacher, master, better than the best,
well recalling a late night message that bred
a five year conversation ongoing

not everything need be coded
what you read here
it is not coded,
for the raindrops come clear and clean
and the poems land on our tongues
bounce on the foreheads and eyes of the babes, all stored and saved for the future blessings spoken in a single tongue

7/18/18



^https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Manhattanhenge
#Ilion codes brooklyn by NY
Carter Ginter Dec 2017
Simultaneously I experience love
Three sources
Not three divisions
My love for one
Cannot define or change
My love for the others
Endless
This love is fearless
Despite the terror I often feel
New territory brings out new emotions
But it's allowing me to grow as a person
This is a little older, since two of my three partners are no longer in my life, but the love is still there
patty m May 2014
Two Moons
through an onion skin,
gulls ride out approaching storm;
I embrace the corner of my bedroom.
A brief inward look tumbles from the bed,
my heart rises.
                Ice and sun, reversible stars, the driving pistons

behind this bleeding vision

My thoughts a scarf tail whipping wind
descend into darkness

I search for landmarks in unfamiliar territory
clinging to the floor until a cold draft finds me.

Voiceless, hunched, in the corner,
I'm shaken by seismic tremors.
'
Dark as a crow, I wait in despair for something to enter,
a pattern of deeply etched lines, stars that won't burn out,
a shadowy presence of something fearful.

Flames crack like small bones,
springs fly from clockwork mechanisms,
all the disparate forces spin in ghostly dance.

Eerie symmetry conspires to do me in,

Hope and Reason stretch out  their hands

                                                  too late.

Darkness swallows me.
Derek Yohn Nov 2013
Where the sea meets the sand
is the battle for the land;
a war for territory,
the everlasting story.

The tides that soak the beach
are always slightly out of reach;
Sol chases them away,
but the moon is here to stay.

So plan for the destruction
of man's every construction;
for eaten it will be,
by the hungry sea.

But forever is the sand
that marks our borderland;
eternal it will be,
unlike you and me.
Vicki Kralapp Aug 2012
Fall has left its mark cold on my heart,
touching life with deadly fingers, reducing all to brown and gray.

Love has faded into gray along with the coming of snow,
wiping out all warmth and memory of it’s short stays.

For love comes and goes without so much as a word,
hibernating far from my warm bed and hiding despite my prayers.

Loneliness has marked it’s territory
And love leaves me alone.
All poems are copy written and soul property of Vicki Kralapp.
Johnny walker Nov 2018
I feel like a wolf In
the wild, that lost It
mate In the middle
winter

That has to fend for
It's self alone In harsh
realities of life, closing
It's territory

A lone wolf that as now
to walk this Earth
abandoned, In the middle
of the winter snow, now
alone afraid
Lost and abandoned In the middle of winter
Marrisa Jul 2018
We are strong, correct me if I'm wrong.
We are a work of art with a loving heart.
But once we were pulled apart by those we trusted.
Yes, the same ones that were disgusted
by the mere mention of our names;
the ones who never shared the blame,
whose only aim was to bring us shame.
It was easy to see we did not belong,
to stay would just prolong the torment.
Still, here we are to represent the innocent.
We may have been fragile once, a little too nice..
but that does not justify the slices
staking claim to our bodies,
stealing the territory we took for granted.
There will always be lies planted inside our minds
that are growing into vines, suffocating us..
but it does not justify the inhumane pills taken
to ease the pain that can't help but remain.
The dreams that we dread and run from will come,
but they do not justify the bullet holes in our head,
our wishing to be dead.
There is a way, a reason to survive, to be strong.
But correct me if I'm wrong...
Teetering on her baby legs
A newborn with a Solo cup
bombastic red with a few
undulating ribs
Held firmly in her hand
Is this her first or her third?
Somnambulant yet eager
And just a little out of place
In a foreign territory
On newly contested lands
She stumbles through a raucous crowd
Or was it just white noise?
She’s lost her companions
Somewhere
Although they could very well be close at hand

In the distance she can make out
Laughing faces
Bodies moving to and fro
Spilling forward, little messes
Throwing back cheap libation

She passes through a room and out the door
Into the out-of-doors
Someone following her unbeknownst
Watching her cautious, curious steps
And when she turns and sees the blur standing
She greets it
“Hail Fellow!”

Bouncing from variable to variable
Frequency to frequency
Confident and in command
Of a seemingly controlled chaos
He approaches smiling and holds out his hand
Anonymous

Having drawn her attention from the stars
That she could not find above
Leaning against the garage’s eastern wall
She takes it awkwardly
Tentative she smiles back reassured
Wobbling she returns standing alongside him
Or was she in front?
Purposeful and en route
Emboldened by his presence
And how the way was parted before her
Just by his being there.
By being so close.
She felt vaguely special
it showed in her half-smile
Cloaked in bangs
She held head just a little bit higher

The co-conspiratorial glances
Met by boys eyes
And shes
Went unseen by the girl with the
Solo cup
One of tens upon tens upon tens
A coven would have known
It’s better not to

However.

She was shown a seat to rest
And her cup refilled
She takes a sip and smiles again
She takes another and then a gulp
That spills
He takes the cup away
And places it on the low table
Suggests she go to the restroom upstairs and get herself
Sorted

Embarrassed she is relieved for direction
Someone knows what’s going on
And his caring
Taking the time
His kind eyes
She’s usually alone
She waddles up the stairs to find
a toilet and a mirror
God she thinks
I look a mess
She tries to fix it
The hair
The eyes
The lips
The dress
The stomach
The *******
The thighs

She shrugs her shoulders at her reflection
Exhales and steps out again
To find him standing there
waiting for more.

She wants another cup.
She’s missing her cup.
I’ll get you the cup he says
In just a second.
Come.
Dark Fjord Nov 2016
To go where, she asks,
to make her swoon;
get lost to find it- to map the territory
and in tearing with shears
wronged it going inside her terror!
see spot run
Louis Verata Dec 2018
The antelope will finally have peace
From mortal enemies
No more grass to feed the beast
The lion will starve as there
Will be nothing to eat
Critters of the dirt through litter
Will bury themselves
And plea to not breathe.

The black iguana will burn with dignity
Creatures of the sky will sing
A deadly melody
The shark will have more territory
The Sun once gave and it will take
The Moon, a theatre it will hold
Until it is told that life will be no more.

Alas, Angel of Death
The vulture flying down
Will wish that culture had changed
But it will be too late
It will do its duty
Slayed animals will be at our feet
Greed is our disease
O vulture have mercy.

In a new epoch life will sow its seed
Like it always has
No human or animal that you see
Only beasts from dreams.
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