Today's poet

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Mossdog

Constantly Risking Absurdity

Lawrence Ferlinghetti


Constantly risking absurdity

and death

whenever he performs

above the heads

of his audience

the poet like an acrobat

climbs on rime

to a high wire of his own making

and balancing on eyebeams

above a sea of faces

paces his way

to the other side of the day

performing entrechats

and sleight-of-foot tricks

and other high theatrics

and all without mistaking

any thing

for what it may not be

For he's the super realist

who must perforce perceive

taut truth

before the taking of each stance or step

in his supposed advance

toward that still higher perch

where Beauty stands and waits

with gravity

to start her death-defying leap

And he

a little charleychaplin man

who may or may not catch

her fair eternal form

spreadeagled in the empty air

of existence

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Class Mossy, class!...and very timely for me at the minute...i am desperately trying to write tonight and just can't get the words right!.....:mad:

offski....night all

Quote:

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Originally Posted by freckle

offski....night all

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Night freckle;)

Hi Merry, I'm really pleased to hear about your work! That's great news, congratulations.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Hes

Hi Merry, I'm really pleased to hear about your work! That's great news, congratulations.

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Merry recieves congrats
From all corners
Many thanks good people
May all my friends have support and luck in their time of need;)

Late the thread as usual...life and work got in the way. Still, it is always good to read what has been posted and I loved all the Bukowski.

The Stars

The stars appear one by one
like small songs,
like small terrors
rattling bright in their cages.
The moon so skin.
Pale rice paper
awash in blood.

The wolf—
a brilliant blue flame
through the trees.

Laura Lush

Some Functions of Snow
Elizabeth Zetlin

For quiet. To play
charades with the trees,
tickle the backs of lakes.
For obliteration, alliteration
and rhyme. To refrigerate
knees, force us to slow down, simplify,
clean out the closets. To insulate
and lessen loss — of water
from dormant plants, of sadness
from the rest of us. To sparkle.
To make us dig out from under
crystallized patterns. To clear the palette.
To remind us we're not in control.
To awaken shoulders and ache backs,
make us look up from whatever we're doing,
bring us closer to clouds. To be
atmospheric, translucent, one of a kind.
To halt traffic, close schools, disturb reception, cancel
just about everything as we fall to earth,
flail our arms like wings, become
what we like to call snow angels,
enter stillness, melt.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Hes

The Stars

The stars appear one by one
like small songs,
like small terrors
rattling bright in their cages.
The moon so skin.
Pale rice paper
awash in blood.

The wolf—
a brilliant blue flame
through the trees.

Laura Lush

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Always had a thing about wolves and werewolves, remember doing a sponsored walk at school and my dad buying me an airfix werewolf with glow in the dark paint for completing it, always kept it at the side of my bed.
Used to be a werewolf, but i'm alright noooooooooooooooooooooow:D

Running With Wolves


Trapped in submission,
Sumberged in this condition,
Trapped in a shell,
I wish I could quell.

To be free is a dream,
To have what I desire is a wish.

Where can I go,
Where will this path lead,
From this shell I'll never grow,
From this body I won't stop to bleed.

Running with wolves,
An impossible dream,
A most wanted wish.

This shell hiding the beast inside,
I walk in skin,
He talks to me as a guide,
He is my friend, my opposite, my twin.

For him to break free,
What a day that would be,
Until...I abide,
Always there yet he hides inside.

The burning sensation,
To howl,
To run,
To feel the fascination.

Though I feel no fur,
Scratch no claws,
Run no forest,
Howl no song.

My dreams keep me in fascination,
They drive the sensation,
The wolf inside keeps me alive,
The running of the wolves makes me thrive.

Evan Skora

Too tired,Too drunk,Collapsed.

Cigarette stained fingers,
Grab the,
Broken neck of,
The beer bottle,
Smashed again,
Glass slices,
My feet crimson,
Tide against carpet,
Sand coloured,
Filth I lie cough,
As I pass out pissed,
Up fool can't just,
Want to feel the,
Hardened sand of my soul.