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?
Perpetual whisper of grand nascent tales,
our ears must attune to their gentlest gales,
flickers of plotlines both timeless and new
dragged kicking and screaming back into our view.
Through luminous tantrum, their truths are unfurled,
bright character tapestries woven and twirled.
These vivid creations through silence are born,
soft fleeces of fantasy nurtured ‘til shorn.
In realms where thoughts and colors mix,
where pens ballet and paintbrush flicks.
I stretch past limits, crack the frame,
inventing worlds that have no name.
From inkwells of my soul, they flow,
barbed barriers can’t tell me “no”,
they fall before my need for free,
bright, blazing creativity.
Bathed in the stillness of cottony darkness,
ripened body heat ripples under thick blankets.
Sagging lashes expose glassy eyes
to the brisk late evening air,
blinking back slumber’s inexorable approach
as flickering images stream
from the azure gleam
of deliciously tawdry fiction.
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