Aftermath
AFTERMATH
By Luella Trumley Doering
Sunshine upon the shattered earth again,
And subtle music in the crisp young green.
(But ah, the shadows solemn with the rain,
And ah, the grasses tender with its sheen!)
Just as before I search the shining night
And sing the splendor of the new-born day.
(But oh the mem'ry of the surge and might
And tempest that has hushed and passed away!)
Ever upon my lips and in my heart
I bear my strength to live these tranquil days.
(But ah, the storming tearing me apart
When I remember, as I must, always.)
Wow. I love them both, BBB, especially the latter. Did she give you her poetry? Is it in a book?
woman clean the doll house
she go to work about five
woman wear a red blouse
she husband maybe alive
she waiting on the tables
she cleaning up the floor
she live a life of fables
she giving up the score
woman make the doll house
husband kicking at the door
woman trick the dead mouse
woman dont come back no more
wicked were the wheels on the tricycle
all worn out and frozen like an icicle
the seat no longer there
you just sat anywhere
and hoped someday you'd own a bicycle
Absence
ABSENCE
By Luella Trumley Doering
Late, and my mouth is hungry for your kiss,
My arms would soothe to rest
Your weary head. Think you no fire and bliss
Lingers in my caress?
Why tarry you? It now is cold and chill
And bleak winds moan about.
Alas, I have foreboding of great ill--
There, the light is out!
Edgar
This is the last poem I was able to enter in my computer. One of these days I will have to open that box of old and faded fragile papers and continue to record the remarkable talent of Luella Trumley Doering.
BBB
mercy girl the wine
that overflowed til morning
still has me strong
though the day that is borning
has sent you home
Awaken to the lights so bright
upon a long and dreadful day
much focus seems to make it right
to correct all thoughts without delay
beside the door of winding charms
shut out the clock with loud alarms
Nice thoughts from a 'normal' awakening mind, colorbook (NORMAL because everyone hates alarm clocks and their noise.)
BBB. you enriched we all, when you opened the cache of your Aunt's poetry. At least SOMEONE will have joined her spirit for a moment, each time they become one with her thoughts. She was very capable of capturing life-- her own, and perpetuating it with prose.
I join edgarblythe in thanking you.
Reading through these gives me a portrait of your dear Luella, more clearly than a portrait in oil---
"Aperch on my veranda...I have a shouting urge
To tell my secrets to the masses while I sing,
Desire and beauty captured, while through me they surge
Alas- and I cannot prove one thing.
But let the breezes play my melody, while they shiver
Mongst the willow trees and maples down the pathway,
Of my hope and fascination will they deliver
And the mingling of our togetherness, forever stay."
theollady
theollady, thank you so much. I so pleased that you learned so much of my Aunt through her words. She was an amazing woman. Someday I may write more about her life as an independent woman who broke many of the world's society restrictions around the world.
For example, she got herself a good education at a time when it was very difficult for women, especially during the Great Depression years. She returned to school in her sixties and got her masters degree. She and her husband took separate world-wide vacations because they had different interests. He was a economics professor and wanted to visit the stock exchanges while she wanted to roam through the cities and countrysides to learn more about the people living there. She traveled all over the world by herself, not in tours. She was the first white woman to land in a small plane among the villagers high in the Himalayas. Etc. Etc.
BBB
There will be a great injustice if her poems are never brought to print by a decent publisher.
Somehow he flipped it out and showed the world
the star upon her chest
and people booed and cheered out loud
with nothing left to guess
Why do they think her conduct bad
from looks upon each face
her brother publicly touches himself
and grabs his private place
Not only is she more famous now
of indecency on the tube
it's happened at the Super Bowl
now she's a Super Boob
lol, interesting poem colorbook.
A tit is a tit of course of course
Unless of course the tit's from a famous source
A tit is a tit if you show them yours
Because of course your tit's not from a famous source
You don't believe it? Just try and show us yours
I'm laughing and humming that tune, Edgar.
Thanks, El-Diablo.
Sorry; I've just come from a thread that invokes The Gong Show.
The Gong Show can do that to you.
From above a rain of ashes descends
Anathema I will remain, forever will remain
From below, in my seclusion
Look up to the sky to see paper wings and watch them burn
Without habitation, you'll never find a soul inside
No life, but nothing's died
No lights, but quite the show
Just as long as no one ever knows
All motion is pantomime
dh
El Diablo
I like that one a lot.
