Category Archives: Poetry

Siren

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You knew she was trouble when she walked in
Got quiet like a whisperer had spoke
With legs up to there, this doll was no joke
A quick glance from under my fedora
Face of an angel, but a body of sin
She was the box and I was Pandora

A tempest of whispers spread through the club
The slit of her dress was up to oh yeah
And not a thing underneath but pure air
That outfit was custom made to adorn
And where the babe walked were the whisper’s hub
Fitting her curves like nothing ever worn

Dress held together by a simple gold link
Even Frail Freddy rushed to take her hand
Just a marionette at her command
As he guided her to a stool on stage
Not a man in there had senses to think
As she crossed her leg with a perfect gauge

It felt like she looked each man in his eyes
Her liquid voice melting over their soul
Her descant was love gone out of control
Her notes downright gritty or raw and lonely
Yes, each man begged for her songs reprise
But she had her sites locked on one only

Deer to headlights I was trapped in her gaze
She pointed at me and crooked her finger
A beauty like that you don’t let linger
I stood giving my trench a little tuck
As she disappeared in the smoky haze
Half-hearted wishes grumbled lucky-schmuck

We rode each other ‘til we were cryin’
She never quite spoke, her words in sing- song
And she was saying things I knew were wrong
Like her husband she wanted me to kill
I realized she was a modern siren
But she knew she had control of my will

Her husband, I was to shoot in the head
When we met up later on in the park
After midnight when it’s quiet and dark
She had sung, I should have done as was told
She’s surprised when I shoot her down instead
I hardly heard her song, I had a head cold

I watch the glow of my cigarette tip
As her husband leans over and just smiles
I hadn’t seen him do that in a long while
He don’t smile much as leader of the mob
Yes, the start of a beautiful friendship
Paying me for the first of many jobs

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Have NO idea where my muse pulled this craziness from. I’m just rolling with it.

dVerse ~ Poets Pub | OpenLinkNight: Week 96

Poor Man

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Poor is an image I find difficult to afford
Man as the tool to my gain is in constant accord

I can only imagine it – and it’s mine ’till he sighs
Have not met a sugar who didn’t want these thighs
To decorate his hungry lap with something fresh
Tell him I’m a mistake? – I did, I really tried but
You can’t reseal the lid on a busted nut

He took a gamble on the liquid swing of my hips
Never fearful of the snug feel of my lips
Knew he could last longer than always
What has he known? On that subject I’ve got it sewn!
Hit it like an olden broken record pumped straight through
Him everywhere – yeah – my ample tool struck true

But my mantle? Starting anew after I take and take
I am not good at what I do – I’m better
Did I not try to tell him I was a mistake?

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A little Word Acrostic tempted me…

dVerse ~ Poets Pub | Poetics : It’s Tempting!

Over

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So readily you sway to my sweet wile
And though we warn believe not all you see
I gaze at you enchanted by your smile

We tell each other truths to some degree
Yet in those truths we bury many lies
The veil well-worn over hypocrisy

Secure in all the ways that we devise
To keep our sadness hidden it is true
We smile and laugh, knowing it for disguise

But yet the truth does find ways to seep through
When the façade finally starts to fall
We’ll pay the piper with the penance due

The cold and bitter truth has come to call
That this marriage is over after all

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Trying my hand at a Terza Rima Sonnet for dVerse

dVerse Poets Pub | Form for All : Terza Rima and Terza Rima Sonnet

Invisible Man

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8

But it felt like I was disappearing,
So I ran to the mirror to check it out.
I said, ‘Here I am, here I am, here I am”
But why do I feel like the invisible man?
Invisible Man – Joshua Kadison / Painted Desert Serenade

It’s the morning after and I feel shorn
I’m tired as can be and the sunlight slays
I want to anchor my thoughts, but I’m just too worn
Can’t seem to see myself in my weary daze
A shade off invisible in my haze
Rubbing at eyes seriously blearing
I try to own it to the night in wane
As day breaks through the window pane
Murky eyes see a body with vision clearing
But it felt like I was disappearing

I decide that it just can’t be the case
It’s my mind taking a very strange flight
This disembodiment of my face
But I couldn’t shake it, try as I might
That I was disappearing from sight
I hold my hands out front with a doubt
But my heart lurches at what it doesn’t see
The empty pristine space that should be me
And I wondered what that was about
So I ran to the mirror to check it out

For what will I be when I finish changing?
My very thoughts echoed the patterns swirled
What’s the impact on my life’s current arranging?
Just whose vision of me was being unfurled?
Will I be fluent in hate or bring joy to the world?
It all just felt like it an incredible scam
‘For self is a sea boundless and measureless’
Woe be to he who believes himself treasure less
So I just couldn’t get with this new program
I said, ‘Here I am, here I am, here I am”

I can’t be enticed to be another subject
Another copy of a copy I can’t tolerate
In the spirit of uniqueness, this I reject
And just that quick came a feeling sedate
Beyond my core I felt the quiet panic abate
Solidified back to me in a moment’s span
I’m glad to know I am in fact all here
Still, I just couldn’t shake that feeling so queer
Nothing changed from when this all began
But why do I feel like the invisible man?

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Yes, back to my beloved Glosa form.

dVerse ~ Poet Pub \ OpenLinkNight 

In The Spirit

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The passionate call of the joined heart beat
Felt long past when the heart was nubile
The feeling of spring’s first blooms so sweet
The old memory that still makes me smile
It’s the urge at a concert to just weep
The comfort at night when I fall asleep

The piece that’s with me wherever I roam
In the spirit of land, of heart, of home

The knowing when it’s my time to let go
After countless days and nights on this earth
A song on the end of the world I know
That began playing since the day of my birth
As my Deity holds my life in sway
I am drenched peace, as though it’s my last day

For I know I’ve lived the best way I can
In the spirit of love to fellow man

The not so free will that brings me to here
Those voices of guidance to go or to wait
Gifts of inner light to make the dark clear
Past lessons that leads me to paths straight
The persons I feel when no one is there
When needed their presence snakes through the air

Their hands go right through me like ghosts and walls
In the spirit of the ancestral call

A coat of many colors dark and fair
Sometimes it is sparse, sometimes it flows free
Those are my scarves and my rings that I wear
The glow of words that accessorize me
The trifle of rhyme that falls just right
The feeling that haunts “post this tonight”

Paint, pencils, pens and pixels I use
In the spirit of the magic I call Muse

The delightful joy I can’t put into words
The raw anger growing above the din
The most quiet of calm I’ve ever heard
The connection of love with my close kin
The slow chill of knowing hell’s on its way
The warm glow of just being, that needs no say

And it’s to my core when I feel it
In the spirit of living in the spirit
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dVerse ~ Poets Pub | Meeting the Bar: Your Voice–Let’s Hear It!

Come my Maestro

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Come my Maestro
It is time
For an interlude

Play me

Tinkle the lines of my throat
The soft, ripe, plush
Of my mouth
Like the keys of a piano

Strike a chord within me
And make me feel
Wanton

Your strong fingers caress
Along the curve of my hips
as I arch,
And give myself in
to your manipulations

You
Play
me

Like a fine instrument
Knowing just when to pluck
My strings

You create within me
A perfect concerto
Reaching crescendo
With your ravenous lips
Upon mine

We rise and fall
In rhythm
To the movements
Of your baton
Until the final note
Dies away
Deep within

And after this most brief
intermission
I dare say
It is worth the time
For an encore

Ce n’est pas?

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dVerse ~ Poets Pub | OpenLinkNight Week 94

Contented

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Sun
Dappled
Shimmering
Full of promise
With daylight dawning

Tears
Are done
I know this
Down to my core
As I stretch yawning

So
I rise
Contented
Feel my soul smile
In this new morning

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Welcome to the Arun.

A nonce poem created by friend and fellow blogger, GirlGriot. An Arun is a fifteen-line poem in three sets of five lines. Each set of five lines follows the same syllable structure: starting with one syllable and increasing by one syllable with each line. 1/2/3/4/5 — 3x. There are no other rhyme or structural requirements.  Though all of hers, so far, were left aligned and not rhymed, I took a little poetic license here.

dVerse  Poets Pub | OpenLinkNight Week 113

Welcome

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Traded as payment for overdue wage
She knows, though it’s gilded, it’s still a cage
She’s yet to see sun
Shipped from place to place, displayed on a stage
To those whose tastes prefer ones underage
For sick sense of fun

She’s told back home no one’s missed her absence
She does not believe in their evidence
But bows to their might
Forced to do things against her conscience
Knowing what they do to those called nuisance
Flees into the night

Thunder rolls, storm clouds brew:
It was the sound of His measure of her trouble
It was the sound of His dread for her plight

Bloodied to a near pulp from being beat
In deepest fear of the oncoming feet
It was much too near
Oblivious to the filthy concrete
She lays prostrate in the dark on the street
It’s all she can hear

Brought to this new land for a tidy sum
From a land she never asked to leave from
She was their plaything
Smelling of cocaine, and cheap stale rum
She lays there waiting for death to come
She hears them calling

Lightning strikes, raindrops pelt:
It was the sound as His anger mounts
It was the sound of His tears falling

Glass grinds into her already raw shin
The pain raises a moan from deep within
They hear her outcry
A tear is slowly sliding down her chin
As they plunder through her most tender skin
Knives do not ask why

As each breath she takes become more shallow
Smiling, she knows she won’t see tomorrow
Her end has begun
She’s raised from the filth in which she wallows
A shining light eases her deep sorrow
At last she sees sun

Dew drops, Sun rises:
It was the sound as His arms open
It was the sound of His words of welcome

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dVerse ~ Poets Pub | OpenLinkNight : Week 93

The Quiet Before

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She sits in the window seat and sighs
wondering what malarkey would have
such cool gray shades of the overcast day
dull the warm hues that should be autumn
Her front lawn only a sliver off
the near gaudy emerald of summer
was still a vibrant green

A spring green she thinks

Spring when everything begins
with summer’s long stemmed promises
only to fall — the beginning of the end
an early trespass to winter

Nor does the contrast
of the blood red dianthus
against the bright white
of Queen Anne’s Lace escape her

Now past their prime
their wilted blooms too heavy
for their aged jade stems
like an unhanded puppet
leaned over in resolute defeat
to the inevitable

She reaches out in comfort
She reaches out for comfort
to the hands and the heavy heart
that shares all she feels now
as the back the door opens

The only pleasantry being the smile
that quickly departs his face
as wife and mistress turn to him
fingers interlaced, hearts ripped open
Fate catching them as off guard
as they have caught him now

In the quiet before…

 

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We All Still Know

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We sit and ponder the starkest
in night’s darkest,
catering to the fears we sow.
We all still know
the sum of all our fears denies,
the sun will rise,
revealing truths behind the lies.
And so we trust and carry on,
within the rays of each new dawn.
In night’s darkest, we all still know, the sun will rise.

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Another Oviellejo.

dVerse ~ Poets  Pub | OpenLinkNight : Week 120