Poetry Bytes, Twitter
October 16th 2009 22:34
Poetry Bytes, Twitter (@myarspoetica)
i waited for a river and a teardrop arrived
one heart bursting with energy, a white light breaks into every direction, souls dive for cover, we wait, we hide, we ache to be free
its a kind of wandering, inside a blue walled cosmos, perhaps a break free cloud, discovering the campfires of gypsies
this is the age of the unfamiliar / the lamps of prison cells flicker / owls hoot outside the bars / moon is crooning at the little lights
we lit a fire outside the hay barn, just a little one in the stone circle, we warmed our hands & spoke of cold feet, we put socks on
sun packed a bag & sidled up to the moon, back to back, they couldn't draw their weapons, they'd left them at home, under the sofa
rubble rubble, toil and rubble - eyes in your back, the sun is bleating, walk on, think fast, what's around the bend? you don't own me...
punching cards into the timeline of life -- give me a break
she sat on the fountains edge, attracted by the glimmer -- momentum in fluid motion -- though most days she wished to be air
information overload -- mental piracy -- STOP
a true troubadour, she is stellar when she waves at smoking earth as she rides the tail of comets on her way to the corner store..
the road to the ranch was dusty, she looked in the rear view mirror, a million dust specks swirling, singing, we have been waiting for you
the gate had the same creak as always, she stepped through the arch of roses, and stood at the door, with a knock tongue tied up in her fist
the door opened and her heart fell out, just like that, they would spend the rest of the afternoon picking up little stars from the porch
sunset glowed on the backs of dragonflies, she walked toward the river where she knew the songs of her childhood moved through the trees
soft mosses & wild lilies, willow stoops to drawl her long fingers through the cool waters, a frog leaps, a circle of mushrooms quivers
a blanket folded over her arm, she flings it down upon the pine needles, pulls out her sewing kit & begins to ply a new heart for the world
driving to the local store, she was distracted by the aroma left behind from the hitchhikers, she stopped the car, opened the door & sighed
UPDATED September 19 2009
long ago in a faraway land, there was a cubby in a willow tree, rope ladder up, trapdoor open, bare feet on grass mat, its my world now
she could see the whole wide world from here, her bedroom window with purple curtains, the puppies playing in the yard, the neighbours swing
he had always loved the roar of the sea, the ferocity of the breaking waves, he wriggled into his wetsuit and walks toward the horizon
even when the sun went down, she could still see sunset in his eyes
She thought to try her hand at Origami. She loved all the folding, the patterns, the repeating. Tracing the lines on her palm.
Hate was climbing the walls again, time to hunt down her trusty axe, spend a little time chopping into roots. She loved to watch it die.
couldn't help but notice you were trying too hard. its not easy being invisible. a lot of hand waving won't help, just turn off the light
'A granule a day' she said, 'soon you'll be building sandcastles'. 'But what about the tide?' she asked. 'Well, nothing is permanent'.
she stood by his bedside not knowing what to say, she hoped the flowers would say everything
remember when wonder danced around you,saying, 'look over here! and here! and here!' & little joys were like warm bubbles popping inside you
UPDATED October 17 2009
everyone sings happy birthday, the girl with the wild eyes grimaces, the song finishes, she smiles, lighting the candles all over again
all that glitters isnt gold, glitter is fools gold, glitter gets in2 e'thing & is banned from the house - glitter is sparkly, i love glitter
the painting started on a canvas, soon there was paint splashed up the walls. she had asked him not to disturb her while she was painting
steam sent a whistle through the studio, she puts her brushes down and wipes her nose along the back of her hand, she leaves a purple smear
outlines, outlines everywhere! she wondered if she could fill them in with storms or magnetic clouds, perhaps even blackberry juices
the words sent shivers down her spine, for the whole next month she would paint only bones
the canvas that lay before her eyes undulated and shimmered, she wished she could take it home, the view from a plane window
We said our prayers on the cold slate before the cantata rose out of the mouths of ancient crones
who could only remember endearment through the telling of dreams by the flush cheeked darlings
twitpoems by @lilyofoz at @myarspoetica
twitter
i waited for a river and a teardrop arrived
~*~
one heart bursting with energy, a white light breaks into every direction, souls dive for cover, we wait, we hide, we ache to be free
~*~
its a kind of wandering, inside a blue walled cosmos, perhaps a break free cloud, discovering the campfires of gypsies
~*~
this is the age of the unfamiliar / the lamps of prison cells flicker / owls hoot outside the bars / moon is crooning at the little lights
~*~
we lit a fire outside the hay barn, just a little one in the stone circle, we warmed our hands & spoke of cold feet, we put socks on
~*~
sun packed a bag & sidled up to the moon, back to back, they couldn't draw their weapons, they'd left them at home, under the sofa
~*~
rubble rubble, toil and rubble - eyes in your back, the sun is bleating, walk on, think fast, what's around the bend? you don't own me...
~*~
punching cards into the timeline of life -- give me a break
~*~
she sat on the fountains edge, attracted by the glimmer -- momentum in fluid motion -- though most days she wished to be air
~*~
information overload -- mental piracy -- STOP
~*~
a true troubadour, she is stellar when she waves at smoking earth as she rides the tail of comets on her way to the corner store..
~*~
the road to the ranch was dusty, she looked in the rear view mirror, a million dust specks swirling, singing, we have been waiting for you
~*~
the gate had the same creak as always, she stepped through the arch of roses, and stood at the door, with a knock tongue tied up in her fist
~*~
the door opened and her heart fell out, just like that, they would spend the rest of the afternoon picking up little stars from the porch
~*~
sunset glowed on the backs of dragonflies, she walked toward the river where she knew the songs of her childhood moved through the trees
~*~
soft mosses & wild lilies, willow stoops to drawl her long fingers through the cool waters, a frog leaps, a circle of mushrooms quivers
~*~
a blanket folded over her arm, she flings it down upon the pine needles, pulls out her sewing kit & begins to ply a new heart for the world
~*~
driving to the local store, she was distracted by the aroma left behind from the hitchhikers, she stopped the car, opened the door & sighed
~*~
UPDATED September 19 2009
~*~
long ago in a faraway land, there was a cubby in a willow tree, rope ladder up, trapdoor open, bare feet on grass mat, its my world now
~*~
she could see the whole wide world from here, her bedroom window with purple curtains, the puppies playing in the yard, the neighbours swing
~*~
he had always loved the roar of the sea, the ferocity of the breaking waves, he wriggled into his wetsuit and walks toward the horizon
~*~
even when the sun went down, she could still see sunset in his eyes
~*~
She thought to try her hand at Origami. She loved all the folding, the patterns, the repeating. Tracing the lines on her palm.
~*~
Hate was climbing the walls again, time to hunt down her trusty axe, spend a little time chopping into roots. She loved to watch it die.
~*~
couldn't help but notice you were trying too hard. its not easy being invisible. a lot of hand waving won't help, just turn off the light
~*~
'A granule a day' she said, 'soon you'll be building sandcastles'. 'But what about the tide?' she asked. 'Well, nothing is permanent'.
~*~
she stood by his bedside not knowing what to say, she hoped the flowers would say everything
~*~
remember when wonder danced around you,saying, 'look over here! and here! and here!' & little joys were like warm bubbles popping inside you
~*~
UPDATED October 17 2009
~*~
everyone sings happy birthday, the girl with the wild eyes grimaces, the song finishes, she smiles, lighting the candles all over again
~*~
all that glitters isnt gold, glitter is fools gold, glitter gets in2 e'thing & is banned from the house - glitter is sparkly, i love glitter
~*~
the painting started on a canvas, soon there was paint splashed up the walls. she had asked him not to disturb her while she was painting
~*~
steam sent a whistle through the studio, she puts her brushes down and wipes her nose along the back of her hand, she leaves a purple smear
~*~
outlines, outlines everywhere! she wondered if she could fill them in with storms or magnetic clouds, perhaps even blackberry juices
~*~
the words sent shivers down her spine, for the whole next month she would paint only bones
~*~
the canvas that lay before her eyes undulated and shimmered, she wished she could take it home, the view from a plane window
~*~
We said our prayers on the cold slate before the cantata rose out of the mouths of ancient crones
~*~
who could only remember endearment through the telling of dreams by the flush cheeked darlings
~*~
twitpoems by @lilyofoz at @myarspoetica
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Comment by Lily
on UNDER THE MOON FESTIVAL
Ars Poetica
i LOVED this part, i read it first as 'drip', which i like better than dip, yolks drip, or are dipped into.. twobobsworth
no sparklers allowed? what? NEVER!!
~lily