Spontaneous Poems

http://able2know.org/topic/1332-1#post-18624

#20
Colorbook
Always looked foreward to colorbook's offerings.

Captured suddenly
a little bird caught
upon a rose bush
to taste the flower

Outside my door
I caught a glimpse of you
fluttering, struggling, frightened
you tried to fly away, yet something held you close

I was puzzled for a moment
Then I broke off the branch that held you captive

As I held you in my hand
I saw a simple white thread wrapped around your tiny foot that weaved around the thorns

Slowly unwinding the thread that held you close
I gave you freedom once again

Thanks Edgar for the delightful look back!

Hail to thee, Blythe Spirit!
Bird thou never wert,
That from Heaven, or near it,
Pourest thy full heart
In profuse strains of unpremeditated art.



[ with a nod to Shelley, whose work I purloined :-) ]

Three words went into all that space
and couldn't help but see
that that should bring about a place
of loving carefully.

nice!

Izzie made me think this.

Spring.

Just weeks ago
I was the whinging, whining woman
Wondering if I would ever be warm
Again

But here I sit
Enveloped in the tentative Spring,
Friendly sea-mist brimming to the bright bay bowl
And warm.

the caliber of excalibur,
the reason in his heart ,
Why cant you stop ?
said the maiden to knight lancelot
, when dancing in hell , the dance is hot
he responded despondent ,
facing the monument a monolith ,
upon which innocense replaced by congress ,
eyeing the face of fate at hell's gates ,
there was but one whom spoke honest
, greatest swordsman no contest,
no telling what his soul could accomplish
, said the oracle an merlin
, a historical burden
, known as atlas in some cultures,
the stone that fastened a Weapon unlike any mankind.. had seen...
, his land dieing , the depths of a bad dream ,
awoke , to scream an smoke ,
even the horses wore this demons cloak,
he rode with fury in stride,
buried inside ,
his very life force
, the knights sword a light soure,
a compass to the right course ....
a truely bless-ed curse ...
this world would not need him .... if there was nothing to fight for ...

21
Billy Falcon I did not get to know, but posted enough to garner recognition.

Confrontations

Whenevr I confront sadness
the steel strings of a zither fill my mind
As if it were yesterday I first saw The Third Man
Wake up! It's been forty five years.
Anton Karas will be playing no encores.
Or do I create the steel stringed zither
to confront happiness.

I stand in the pouring rain
feeling every drop and taking it in
every memory it had as it fell from heaven
is within me,
I feel trapped in that cloud now
I wish i was free
why am i here
out in the cold, arms outstretched
feel like falling to my knees
why did i let
you get inside me in my heart in my life
forever now until i die
forever i'll ask why? why? why?
I wonder do you care
Do you spare a though for us
For him
He is everything
You don't know his face
Yet he has your smile your eyes
we live 5 minutes from your place
You don't have time to play
yet we play all day
I wonder if you know
that you are missing the most amazing days of your life
these moments you can never replace
I feel so drunk now
like im pinned to the chair
just cant stop laughing
thinking about you
then my laugh changes into a cry
why did you leave me with our child
why

My dad knows me not but the loss is a plus.
I race through wraiths of footy and cricket
Impervious.
Learning from neighbours and teachers,
Scoutmasters and uncles
The little tricks of good-man-hood.
Not at a loss for stories and tickles
And boundaries and comfort,
Company, love.
I live my days in secure, coccooned fog.


Reserving the right to fickle ingratitude,
This is the way of the generations
And the price I will pay forward
To my own joyous tribe,
Who will never need to know the debt they owe
To my Mum’s staunch loving heart.

nice!

22
THen came ROSE to blossom but briefly on our pages. I was sorry she quit posting.

Deep, dark pages of the night
Have wrapped us in their shroud.
So we can whisper lowered tones,
There isn't such a crowd.

It's times like these
I hear you think
Without your utterance made;
I hear you join my heart in love...
And banter, of your day.

Your colors,
your very urgent dreams-
Walk on my path awhile.
And I yet wait, in breathless wonder,
Watching for your smile.

WORDS
I see the opaque wall before me
Forming nothing in my eyes
A shiny spark enters in
Or is it in my soul that shines

A single form of flowing ebb
Solid yet broken down
To trap the objects in memory
The soul did make a sound

SELF
Growing into skin that changes
Shifting like the seasons
We set anchor to remember
Reaching for the stable reasons

We leave port for new land
Yet we crave a rock to stand upon
The earth moves and water molds
Yet the fire inside stays strong

SOUL
Liquid light and burning water
A force beyond control or measure
We tap into it like sap from trees
While it radiates with unknown pleasure

From fading day to feigning night
The glint hope lives to be
The spark that illuminates the mind
Animates the body to be free

LOVE
From no expectation to warmth of thought
Slowly grows to know
When it receives the glow returned
Time matters not neither fast nor slow

Yet yearn for long the fire burns
For return no warmth it does
Another may be yearning to
Seeking out its love

23
BRAND X did not give us any clues as to identity or personality, but was pretty good.

I see you've been cooking time
Seconds baking with a pinch of thyme
Flavor of life is counted by days
Hours simmer in memories haze
A recipe for all to know
Moments season years, as we grow

I love the simple and easy poem, i am sure you will do better.

24
MARY ANDERSON, we did not get the chance to meet. Her we got to know, because her friend posted here for her. Thanks, BBB.

WRITERS CRAMP
By Mary Anderson - November 30, 1994

I started on a poem today,
using my new Pentel
when it dried
right beside
a couplet that wouldn't jell.

Not unheard of, I counseled me,
I have other things I'll say.
But nothing else would versify
except the odd cliche.
When even they ricocheted
from here to Samarkand
I knew that something spooky
was getting the upper hand.

Iambics went bananas
while stanzas went astray.
Sonnets retrofired and
Roget had zip to say.

Dismayed, my ego crumbled,
withdrew to puzzle why
everything I wrote
went alarmingly awry.

At last I spotted the answer
when I turned to the morning mail,
for there on the hallway table
a notice that told the tale.

"Enforced vacation
from versification
hereby is required,
for we're obliged to say
your poetic license has expired."

Thanks for reposting this charming poem, Edgar. My dear friend Mary died a few months after she wrote this poem.

BBB

25
CLARY - didn't get to know, but Clary was into sonnets


An orange poppy on a bed of green,
Attracts the eye as if 'twere blooming now,
Brings solace, soothes the heart somehow,
But it is just a photo on my screen.
On this ground, icons intervene,
They interrupt the view of flower and bough,
And they are magic, as they will allow,
The user to go far beyond the machine,
One click and you are in a game,
Where bugs gang up to eat the luckless player,
Another icon blazons me my name,
Promising Navigator, just for Clare,
No two wormholes they offer are the same,
Time and space transcended from my chair.

28
The beautiful
ONYXELLE


Standing on the edge of forever
forgeting what went before
I've never stopped to think
of what lies ahead
I dont know when I'll die
I don't if I'll wake - tomorrow
I wonder if my life will continue
to be in vain
What affect am I having
Is someone smiling today
because of something I said to them
When they were having a shitty day?
Does the space I take up
Alter someone's path
or am I merely here
doing a fine job as an oxygen thief
I'll admit to being no great mind
I'll admit to being a little selfish
but I hope that someone will catch me
if I step off of this cliff
while I'm standing here,
on the edge of forever

s.m.b 11/28/03

29
DROM ET REVE
I felt quite close to drom for a time, but she drifted away. I miss writing with her.

Passing are we, like heaven's spirits come,
And like the leaves carried by the summer breeze,
fleeting through time, and consequence undone,
and through the years, all lost is
overcome, and sorrow goes. And with it all
the times of bold repose,
Can I reside through borrowed nights intact

and Constant in the thought of, distantly,
Under the moon we both do occupy.
But now, nearing the end, you leave me here.
All men are joined, in life, and later sleep,
And to my home, and then to spirit on,
With stolen memories of joy, and battle
over histories, now gone.

But change and alteration is this life,
And soon, it is my time to follow you,
Rivers of Change that bring all to their new
and better times, leaving behind antiquity.
Gazing ahigh, onto the sawn-off morn,
to challenge time, you go,
and further on. And thus, I hate goodbye