PAD DAY 30 Against All Odds - FLY BOY

Fly Boy

He wanted to fly
Nineteen years old
Clouds called
He wanted to fly
Just a quick BP  test
revealed his secreted
suicidal heart
thrust him fast
toward those
who sawed his ribs
opened his heart
and saw they could
do nothing
zipper stitched his
smooth chest as he
in morphined misted radiance
blissfully buoyantly bounced
to his now tenuous life
time parceled in months
Nineteen years old
He wanted to fly
Now lucky to see
Twenty two or three

Against all odds 

At sixty still
He wanted to fly
When the clouds
opened for him
in a quiet bedded
room above the gentle
whir of oxygen
heard clear the nearing
roar of a readied engine
as he sighed
smiled and exhaled
himself beyond
the held horizon
lift off

Hurrah... This was more a marathon ...

WORDLE # 32 - Spinning Still

Spinning Still



In the morning rush of spinning untidy thoughts, the fragile fulcrum tilts
With an unwanted shudder subliminal messages sent rustle rise, sneering 
At my struggle back toward mellow, you sleep on, satisfied, smug, ruddy
In sunshine spilled on rumpled quilt my gullible face flashes, shimmers, stills
Clear now, in the morning rush of spinning untidy thoughts, truth tumbles fulcrum freed

PAD DAY 23 Empty Chairs Around White Linen

Empty chairs around white linen

We used to pick up Bubby
Drive into city traffic
And at evening’s end
Drive back through city
Traffic she with the drumstick
She loved in her bag returned
Home to sleep in her insisted
Own bed
Leaving behind a ceramic clown
For cotton balls a gaudy Statue of
Liberty pin or like gifted treasures

We used to have my father debonair
Hair thick a wave dipping close grazing
Left eye usually winking at one of
The girls or Bubby

We used to wait for Mother platinum
hair sparkling laughing and drawing a
deck of cards from a good leather bag
that never left her lap for any takers
from turkey coma’d marks

We used to have my mother long fingered
pulling at the turkey  -  cigarette in her mouth
dangling surreptitious ashes that never fell

We used to have controlled chaos
Stories spilling onto into one another
As the inevitable child dripped something
Stainful onto the white tablecloth
Fresh and forgiven then
Faded and storied the next
We used to have -
Now we remember
And give thanks
with a moist eye
Reading the faint forever
Past on the white linen of today  

Happy Thanksgiving to all who celebrate and to those for whom this is simply November 24th thankfulness really does not actually require any particular signifying holiday...     

PAD DAY 21- Two for Tuesday Fruit/Vegetable

Fruit

He was walking down the street

On the between boy and man crack

Feet tapping lightly, sun shining on his back

Feet tapping lightly, sun shining on his back

Man on the corner face squeezed up in a frown

Looked him up and looked him down

Standing on the corner like a big old darkened dirty boot

Spit on the sidewalk mumbling weird about some kind of fruit

~

Pomegranate

Mysterious ancient crimson

passion seeded filled

Imperious in a crystal bowl

Contemptuous of barbaric ways

Cool to creamed spinach nearby spilled

~

Apple

In a tree from flowers burst

On the scene the very first

From symbolic enticement to

Ensconced in a pie a brown bag lunch present due

Oh how, now humbled, did this fall happen to delectable you?

PAD Day 20 - Best Ever...

Best Ever Pain

Since a wee one
at brain blowing headaches
at iodine on a blood soaked knee

Told “Rise above this pain
or what will you do
when it comes time
to have your own baby”

Finally the day arrives floating on
turquoised watered sun
Exquisite pain long awaited finally begun
Gleeful scream answers expectation’s call
to pass this watermelon expanded
child is the best joy-fullest joke of all

As the pressure mounts
contained for eons – now melted in this turquoise water sun
bursts with this babe the loudest purest bestest laugh
mesmerized manic incredulity drenched in fathomless incomparable soaring atom sparkling fun

~

The Best Ever

No surf crashed
against craggy rocks
No tide pulled and
flowed back to sand
The world did not shake
But it sparkled for years
Remembering with a secret smile

WORDLE # 31 - Blood Diamonds

Under the African sky mindless they toil in trapped silence
All fleeting spark drowned in vacant eyes
Oblivious of the village down the road of the planet whirling
Under the fires of bare feet burning on 
brilliant as ice diamond smolder in blood dark hands     

WORDLE # 31 - Indifference

Drowned in smolder oblivious of the mindless silence
Trapped as diamond ice falls from the sky drowned spark
incapacitated obviating any possible escape from her now
Insignificant planet lost in the undulating Universe of his infinite indifference

PAD Day 19- Suspicious Minds - 4 Poems

SUSPICIOUS MINDS 

~

CAUGHT*

In my early morning bed

Gyrating man in the

White suit mesmerizes

With thrusting pounds

Springing the trap of

calm cool light

Into a sweated morning

Coupled conflagration

Panting

Who does this

to a poet

and why…..

suspicious

meditation

clears mind

with cool water

needed

 *prompt included steamy 1970 young Elvis video

~


PIE

She brings pie

Covered in white linen

Covered in white linen

She brings pie

And a smile

Rings the bell

Hears someone say

From the door’s other side

From the door’s other side

Rings the bell

Hears a shushed

She and her pie

Can go straight to Hell

Standing there pie in hand

White linen and heart flutters

In wind of malice mutters

~

SMILE

There it comes again

Every morning on the train

That practiced smile

Harbinger of future pain

~

MOVE SO GOOD

New moves that oooh so work

Learned from a book

Believed only by a naive jerk

~

~
WHY AND WHERE-FROM?*

Does this black line stop me in my track

Damming the flow of words frustratingly back

Why am I after four years suddenly posting too fast

How long will this robotic…not Robertic editor last?

Why the change from the format before

Okay some glitches there for sure

But in this foisted upon us particulated, separated, monitored blog

A plan to disrupt our community?  Daze us with a corporate focused fog?

It will not happen though, listen up anonymous they, whoever ” they ” might be

For we continue loyal, connected, poeming to and for each other and RLB

Determined to support our independence within our interdependent community

Gone may be the merry lightning back and forth repartee

But lingers the soul unextinguished of the PA Street of another day

*Writer’s Digest recently reformatted Poetic Asides

PAD DAY 17 – REVEAL POEMS -

14 POEMS THAT REVEAL

Under the Hat

Under the party hat

Bright smiles and all that

Stitches on bald head

No one can gasp at

~

Layer by layer

Peels drop to the bedroom floor

Sweet juicy orange

Unbuttoned

Slowly each fabric covered button

Slid between pale buffed crescent nails

Perfectly manicured trembling

Open as a curtain

On opening night before an expectant audience

Of one

Reveal the healed gashed chest

Smooth as cool marble

To his reaching hands

~

Round about the waist

Food has lost its taste

The stick says no, no, no

The face contradicts with knowing glow

~

Slip

On a ship in the middle of the sea

At a fancy black tied swirled dress party

Over a back fence

In a shop counting out some pence

Happen here or there

Always without care

The tongue slides and then a blip

An irretrievable, sudden slip

~

Yep

“Some of my best friends are just like you”

Say they

Exposing what is really true

Any Flag

under fingernails brushed clean

home again after whatever arena scene

clapped upon the back for serving one’s country well

horror of blooded stain; the soldier’s private hellish tell

Spring

Under the blanket of

Impending death riding

The coming frigid air

Burrowed deep

In patient poise

The rose sleeps

Showers in the Morning

Joyous baby boy

Kicking feet up in the air

Golden shower arcs

~

Revealed

In a shaking withered hand

Tightly crumpled the month’s last

Five dollar bill pressed into the

Hand of the empty-eyed boy

Huddled on the cold corner

~

Under the furrowed brow

Giggles bursting now

 ~

When?

For some revealed in each tumbled dancing sun dust mote

For others in a book where it has been wrote

For another on the magic fingernails of the newly born

Or atop a craggy mountaintop at purple crimsoned dawn

Hints heard about in a bush that did brightly burn

Others acknowledge all above

See also a human deficit in grace, compassion, love

Scattered ashes still gathering in time’s slow

Far too much left to coalesce, feel and learn

Others acknowledge all above

See also a universal deficit in grace, compassion and love

Scattered ashes still gathering in time’s slow turn

Far too much left to coalesce, to feel, to learn

~

The Reveal

Music pounds through and past

Pulsing just post- pubescent wetted unshaved lip

As satin thong lowers impossibly lower still on a gyrating hip

PAD DAY 16 - Once Upon A Season

Once Upon A Season

Once upon a season
a turquoise sea beckoned
“Come” as white sanded
beaches cradled soles
still untouched by hardened
land
Once upon a season
Lavished in perfumed
air – friends guitars
sweet folk songs
swollen belly naked
in the navied night
dancing to the water
barefoot in joy besotted sand

Once upon a season
Shimmering and bright
Sun blinded each and every danger
under that lop-sided charming grin
kept the secreted surprise until it was
ready to begin
hair wrapped around the wrist
pulled hard at the root loosed torn
as air floated over fist bruised lips
kiss cradling close a suckling newborn

Once upon a season
hibiscus blossomed belief in love
untainted
blood washed sea clean each day through
brushed with Edenesque possibility still pulsing as though true

Once upon a season in the way that seasons inevitably come to do
the season slipped –
softly calloused sole
kicked open a providential door floating in all that sun sea shimmered blue
as blackened, but-cleared eyes lit on the ‘future once-upon-a-season’
and babe safe on hip, laughter balming on bruised lip, that soul danced directly through

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Kindness - PAD Day 13

In a “This n That Shop”

He was no more than seven or eight

perhaps a smallish ten

you know the kind rumpled

hair, arms and legs still thin

eyes downturned from grownups

now darting panic plain

had he five dollars

for a gift slapped his

pockets twisted round

his reddened neck

ran out the door and

back

“Had five dollars for

my father – he just

came home today”

Wanted to buy him

something – more he

couldn’t say words

caught in his throat

a grownup moved on

by – but another had

a crumpled bill thrown

into a corner right nearby

“I think that might be it

in the corner over there”

said the woman casually

so carefully at him not to stare

continuing her looking at

a this and a that

as relief flooded the air

ringing with the small voice

wondrous mumble

“can you imagine that?”

 ~

At the Littlest League Field

He swung again and

again

and again

at the ball

sneering

on the rubber

planted T

but only

when he hit it

did his mother

seem to ever see

Wordle # 30 Bees

It was the bees
was all John from the cleaning service could stammer say
biceps trembling -strength sapped he could only finger point rapidly as a school-girl
jabbing the air - eloquent in this new stammered terror
this new surreal world tipped to slide off balance
safety skittering to illusion as there in her swivel chair sat
the lady of the house
indelicately slumped impossibly motionless
each coral nail in perfect shimmer in the morning sunlight
it was the bees circling her throat bright as a lover’s necklace
the bees buzzing in that closed bloodless room



~

Side by Side PA Day 10 - Different Perspective

       Side                              by                  Side


In the dark-pillowing his face           Grabbing at her touching her
In satin nubs of angel's wings           in all the places 
Velvet accommodation to his            Gone to fat
nibbling lips                                   Reveling in her shame
promising as always safe                  She stares in the dark
passage through the night               
He shifts, sighs, slips a                     humiliated hostage
hand around the waist grown            of his calculated cruelty
fuller, gentler, all erased angles 
Softly, softly, he burrows                 rigid she lies
sighs and sleeps                               awake                

Wow....what a lovely comment on the poem below....so lovely in fact that in my haste to publish it I hit delete...lol...and so until Amy has the time to repost if she so wishes.
Here is a lovely introduction to In The Time of The Dappled Horse..with deep appreciation

Amy has left a new comment on your post "Wordle #29 In The Time of The Dappled Horse":

Pearl Girl, this was simply astonishing. You tapped into a synapse somewhere deep, deep in your mind; "pitch perfect delirium"? Aahhh. Just great writing, truly. Amy
http://sharplittlepencil.wordpress.com/2011/11/10/artistic-for-riley/

Wordle #29 In The Time of The Dappled Horse

In the time of the dappled horse

Air crisp clear and strident full with the crystal call of fall
Entranced the young with pitch perfect

Delirium, heated the passion of blood to

Pounding swish, as a swoon soared 
through

each mighty chestnut tree

While the wind in tight pleat of contained heat

Did at last reignite, burst, and shower the land 

With white blossoms, piercing the sullen shell 
of sunlit day and navy night until it did seem each

Besotted-
thundering the land in the unbridled gallop of lust, love, luster 
Luminous each countenance once lit did each in turn   

Emit the collective cry of life lived with each blown 
breath 
In the time, that time, of the dappled horse