You wrote "I hope this is entertaining... :)" Yes indeed I am totally blown away by your poetry blog. I have never seen anything like it! Hi, I am tracker. I have had some contact with you because I have fan'd you. I wonder if there is anywhere the system tells you when you did that? After being here awhile you can accumulate a whole lot of fans. Your adjectives stand out. "Squishy, suctioned, autumnal, fleshy for example. Who does that better than you do? I am really impressed. I only have one question. What is your name IRL so I can look on Amazon? Take care.
tracker
I really liked this. The use of 7/7/7/7 divide 3/4 or 4/3 reminds me of the hymn "Rock of Ages" and adds a musical component to these two verses.
There could be more... a third verse going back in time... maybe two verses... and then a last verse back to the present/future/ancient-past.
I have a variety of traumas and triggers. Not all memories are unpleasant but bad ones once triggered take me back. Photos work well for me, occasionally music (but more for emotion), and fragrance.
Use of the 5 senses to describe a before time might be interesting.
Now I'm back at my grandparents... circa 1960: a red cardinal, smell of rotten tomatoes, lilacs (May 1963), cold floor of the basement (we slept there on hot nights in August), flash of the fireflies, the slant of the hillside, the red sidewalk and white tires of nasturtiums, taste of split pea soup, and fresh baking bread (twice/week). Sound of? Maybe the porch swing... ah... the whistle of the steam engine (Pennsylvania RR main line).
Thank you for taking me down the dirt/gravel path through the hollow.
Maybe I'm overthinking things, but I quite enjoyed this little poem. Maybe it's the fact that the poem is in the shape of a pyramid, but I think of ascension. I know you like hiking, so I wouldn't be surprised if some of this was molded from those experiences.
Tryst is such a funny word for me; each time I run into the word, I've already forgotten what it means. I had to google it to remind me. Here's hoping this poem lets it stick for me.
Great use of the elements, the sensations makes this place rather bitter yet beautiful to me--like a mountain.
Keep it up! You've always had a great vocabulary right up your sleeve!
Omelette du fromage, oui oui. But seriously, I've forgotten all but a handful of vocabulary and a snippet of grammar. I really want to get my French passport but that means studying French again to pass a language test. New Year's resolution maybe?
I didn’t drink all of the Guinness!
Been working so hard on my fitness.
That pint glass was there!
I solemnly swear!
Wait! What did you say? There’s a witness?!
I thought we’d go out, but we’re stayin’.
She said, “Paddy’s a saint. We are prayin’.”
I can’t help but think,
“I’d much rather drink.”
My mistake was in that to her sayin’.
There’s somethin’ ‘bout Guinness that beckons
and gets Irish folk wantin’ seconds.
I like it just fine;
I save all my wine
and can triple the price now, I reckon.
Poking through the icy crust,
bristling clumps of fragrant green
shudder with an alpine gust.
Blazing sunlight warms the scene,
snow sloughs off like sparkling dust.
Scraggly pine, so stunted, lean
weathered winter as it must,
fickle life made so serene.
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