Poetry thread: New, newer newest


#81

Well, Hell. I said I wasn’t all that bright!


#82

Ha!


#83

Can’t listen at work but I will give these guys a spin in the near future. Thank you.


#84

This one fell out last night

Two Years On

I met the others in the dead of winter
But I met you on the eve of summer;
Lens flares against the twilight moon
And photographs of a first embrace
Beneath ornamental lights, festooned

Two years on, and I’m the ghost in your memories;
A phantom photographer capturing your every beauty;
Your hair riding the early morning wind,
Your smile framing a lazy sunset,
Your eyes clandestine in Wayfarer blues

I think about the things I used to say,
And the things you whispered in the rain;
I could smell home on your breath,
And a thousand other murmurs of hope
Sweeping across the valley’s quiet refrain

Some days I breathe a bit easier
And then there’s days like this, and yesterday;
A wilted rose in a garden no one tends to,
And the forest that could have been


#85

My cousin wrote this poem one year ago. Two days later her dad (my uncle John) fell and broke his hip. That started a terrible downfall in his health that eventually ended his life on Thanksgiving day. Such insanity since then in her life and she hasn’t written since.

Summer Elegy

All the crickets sing
in unison—
one continuous note-song
after dark
in late August,

the semicolon
between Summer
and Fall,
the pause between two seasons
when everything living
begins to return to earth.

Already stray leaves lose their hold,
yellow they fall
from branches where they have clung
to life in the humid green Summer heat.

We watch these little endings
fall to earth
in the cool mornings
getting darker by the day.

The tops of trees
are already turning,
announcing
Fall is on its way.

By Jenny Cromie


#86

Here’s something snarky I wrote in October of 2018, mostly talking to my windshield during my commute.
———————————————————————

I had supper with your daddy

Sushi

Whatever

(He asked me)

He told me all about your wife

She sounds like a real pain in the ass

I used to be that way, but I’m retired now

(I’m not so sure I know best about anything anymore)

I was thinking about your dad on my drive in

How he doesn’t call

Because he’s older than me

(By quite a bit)

And how he asked me about my divorce

The last time I ran into him

Like he had all the time in the world

(Even though it was pouring)

And I thought he’d like to get inside me

But it would only be one part ambitious

The other part an attempt to fuck you over

(To prove that he still could)

Which is misguided

Because the truth is your daddy always thought

That I was something shiny

And he tried to get you to see it too

But you weren’t interested then

And you’re not interested now

In anything he had

Or has to say

I was thinking about how he’s mad

Mad in that helpless way when there’s nothing

Nothing you can do

Feebly talking big

I brought your father a fruit bowl once

A reference to his advice

about all the babies I haven’t had yet

And he told me about a baby he never had

And yet you switched sides

For a god you never believed in when I knew you

And you’re going to let your daddy die alone

Who are you?


#87

I miss Talisker.


#88

I do too.

I never had her email or contact info. Anyone have?


#89

Boo!

Thanks for thinking of me - long time no post. Hope everyone is ok in these mad times. Lots happened at this end… got engaged, became a grandmother, moving house next week. Not much writing going on but it’s about time I got on it again.

Happy New Year to you all :grinning:


#90

Woah! Glad to see you. Congrats! Happy New Year and don’t be a stranger. :heart:

Did you know we were talking about you?


#91

Thanks LB :grinning: I got an email and was actually delighted to hear from this place. Too long away - will be in touch more often :heart:


#92

Glad to see you back and hear that you’re doing well. Hope you can contribute during these crazy times where we need places like this to thrive.


#93

yay! tali is back!!!

and engaged!!! who’s the lucky dude?

how’s life? how’s your daughter? send us a poem, yo!


#94

The Lake Isle of Innisfree
By William Butler Yeats

I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,
And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made;
Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honey-bee,
And live alone in the bee-loud glade.

And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,
Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;
There midnight’s all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
And evening full of the linnet’s wings.

I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey,
I hear it in the deep heart’s core.


#95

one of my faves :heart:


#96

#97

Nice, I’m going to watch that when I get a chance, I think half its power is in the delivery.


#98

Agreed, although there are some very powerful lines too.


#99

Something from Nov 2019:

Everybody Breaks

The season’s turned, and I don’t know
If I’ve made it through
All those fleeting days,
Holding you to my chest in the French countryside
All those endless nights,
With your shadow imprinted on the pillow
I used to wake up in a whirlwind,
Out of place, out of time
But now I don’t feel a thing

The shadows in the night
And the lines I project on the walls
With a heart that won’t bend to break to make amends
On some far-off hillside gem
That I promise only in dreams
That shatter and run
at the first light of the blazing sun

And this one I wrote somewhere in England I think, making my way home from Cyprus (late 2019, last time I was out and about)

The Girl From Torino

The Cypriot coast is breaking waves
Across the sailboats dotting the harbor;
We were standing on the ledge,
With the last gasp of summer days
Blowing your hair across your face;
I just wanted to catch your name
And feel what it’s like to turn the page

The late-afternoon swirling breeze
Has me all caught up in your soft curves;
Your smile is gentle and reserved,
With an Italian accent broken in all the right spots,
And deep brown eyes that feel like I’m coming home

Close-talking is a time-honored tradition
Of lovers discovering pasts
And landmarking futures;
But the light glancing off the silver pierces the bubble;
The rings that adorn your fingers
Draw lines on the edges of a future
I’ve already dreamed up
Just a few heartbeats in


#100

The Weather Inside

It’s been raining here.
For too long it’s been raining. It seems like it’s been one day and a year.
Calm so far.

Two days and a year.
The forecast says the skies are clear. I see clouds.
No stars.

Three days and a year.
Three. One and two and three and so much fear.
My heart hurts so much.

Four days and a year.
I miss the sun. I miss my son. I miss you too;
Whoever you are.

Five days and a year.
A week can last a month. A lot can change in a week month year.
I forget where we are.

six days and a year.
What day is today? I heard bird songs today.
What day is today?

Seven days and a year.
Snap out of it! Stop doing this! Storms will come!
Today is day one.