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~
the flakes are falling
soft in purpose
like the sky turning
announcing her
mystic shine
beyond the fond
blank manner
how many blanket layers
cover the distant autumn
the summer laugh of
joyous balsam dancing
in he wind and the livid
skies aflame in rays
reaching
the streetlights are coming
on along the shores
and the dark green
waters hold their calm
I want a night of dreamless
realm
dark headiness
and sprinkler ghosts
rushing wet damp
pavement
and the silence
of the stars
cloaked in their
watchful eternity
behind the
softness
behind the
histories
that choose us
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Comments
Esker
Sun, 2012-02-12 09:26
quiet poem
with a title
this was as I was falling asleep in my chair
exhausted brain running through memories
haunts ghosts and things that go Bonk in the night
all the images flickering like around a campfire
before turning in
and outside the snow was falling beautiful
and alone on the city
wanted to write something gnashing
and exciting but that will have to wait
and I had a great good rest finally...
loved
Sun, 2012-02-12 11:08
I can imagine you walking along side the boulevard,
all alone, in the lap of nature,
which does each one of us nurture,
to the quietude of some symphony
in the far off distance,
perhaps Nigeria,
playing a tune of dismal melancholy,
awaiting the snowflakes to melt
upon your shoulders
as others all slumber in peace,
within their cozy comfy vaults
and
dreaming of what looks outside
like a storm,
as you traverse in real form.
Silently playing a flute,
a mouthorgan
or a distant imaginary trumpet,
hoping to eventually become
the Prez
Some day God willing
loved
Kailashana2
Sun, 2012-02-12 11:19
~ ~~~~~*
~
~~~~~*
Esker
Thu, 2012-02-16 19:28
smile you made Me
at the first comma
the first turn of keyboard
the sweet clicks
like the tell of telegraphic
Nordic cloud
Sun, 2012-02-12 12:11
Wistful
Wistful
wandering like a snowflake
down this page of thought,
the dark silence
lit by small fires
the viridian purple
of the black sheen
cast like ghosts
of past flares
way out in space.
LoveAnn
"The image of yourself which you see in a mirror Is dead,
but the reflection of the moon on water, lives." Kenzan.
Esker
Thu, 2012-02-16 19:30
viridian
wow..long time since I heard this word
Thank You for the memories now
rising up like ashs
in a wind
like the sea so infinite within
we can cup our dream
against an ear
and listen
Hear Hear
mothers soft breakers
the lullaby storm abating
weirdelf
Fri, 2012-02-17 04:26
Using a cedilla as a title sucks, it really pisses me off.
The poem is extraordinarily good, I can see the growth you have found in your work. It touches at a human and an imagery level.
Just change that wanker title, please.
cheers,
Jess
A new workshop on the most important element of poetry-
'Rhythm and Meter in Poetry'
https://www.neopoet.com/workshop/rhythm-and-meter-poetry
Esker
Fri, 2012-02-17 08:01
alas and hark! it works...
sometimes I get tired of my single titles
and this "cedilla" thing works
Part of the keyboard I never used before
until then...I still dont know what its used for
you know or knew its name. Thanks Elf
and Hello! Cedilla!
Candlewitch
Fri, 2012-02-17 12:34
Dear Esker,
I want a night of dreamless
realm
dark headiness
and sprinkler ghosts
rushing wet damp
pavement
and the silence
of the stars
cloaked in their
watchful eternity
behind the
softness
behind the
histories
that choose us
so peaceful... *sighs
always, Cat
*
When someone reads your work
And responds, please be courteous
And reply in kind, thanks.
Nordic cloud
Fri, 2012-02-17 14:28
Yes Cat
The more we read it
the more it grows
and grows
like the bean stalk
into the sky of our
consciousness
"like the sky turning
announcing her
mystic shine"
way out there
where our brains hold their secret store
of images and experiences,
"the streetlights are coming
on along the shores"
Mr Wolf manages it every time.
Ann.
"behind the
histories
that choose us"
.
"The image of yourself which you see in a mirror Is dead,
but the reflection of the moon on water, lives." Kenzan.
Esker
Tue, 2012-03-13 00:21
this season is thus
arriving in her quiet superflous
and I arise beyond the night
full of dreams
and visioned sights
the granduer of the light
recieving
my day thus woke and sure
percieving
my comment poems
and answer leavings
Thank You Ann