Poetry Circle... (subject)

[Frunobulax]

Phew.
OK. Works for me.

[Odetta]

Hey...that brings up a question dear Mod.

Must the word "food" appear in the poem or can it just be about a food?

This Poetry Circle is about subject rather than words; thus, the word food doesn't have to appear, but the poem must be explicitly, unambiguously dedicated to food - a beefsteak casually mentioned won't do.

that is right... use the word if you must, but the subject should be the theme of your poem.

[Odetta]

OK... new subject...

RAIN

[Jon]

I whip and flow on the wind.

Eventually I find a dirty friend.

We join and gather until the eventual end.

The wind in our collective face.

We fall as if in a race.

Slipping down

We hit the ground or my brother.

all together,we shape our mother.

[Odetta]

I really like it, Jon!

[Jon]

Thank you former Redton member.

[Odetta]

[Armand St Pierre]

of rising and falling
of giving no thanks
of asking and dancing
of recanting too late
of breathing for you
of breathing for me
of asking no nothing
of just being free
of light and of wind
of hubris unfound
of lightly so slightly
of life on the ground
of sky and
of sea
of falling and rising and
of all what you see

this breathing
this movement
above all is me

[Frunobulax]

Plurr
Forsaking the sky for warmer grounds,
We fall in suicide missions
Downward spirals of kamikaze flights.
Either freeze or splat,
We die when we're born
From gray and white.
And now all we feel is the grit of sand,
Tread upon as some animal.

[Armand St Pierre]

carried along through varied forms
whose implicit needs are met always
by complicit acquiescence through
all movement no pain is alloted
although consciousness is here
slow and rhythmic stretching past
and through and into and onto
No facade could conceive such
willful resonance crying out
life and always and now and
grow

[Steve]

biting at my nape
my naked arms
shelter is a waste of time
so I stand out here in the rain
feeling my skin go numb
no one speaks
only the rain speaks
only the rain can be heard
slamming down on my head
veils of rain
welters of mud
orgy of self-abuse

[Jon]

The irony that we

collect in oceans, my brothers and me.

We relentlessly pound the beachs and make sand,

the dominant component of what we avoid, the arid desert land

[Jon]

of rising and falling
of giving no thanks
of asking and dancing
of recanting too late
of breathing for you
of breathing for me
of asking no nothing
of just being free
of light and of wind
of hubris unfound
of lightly so slightly
of life on the ground
of sky and
of sea
of falling and rising and
of all what you see

this breathing
this movement
above all is me

Man I love this poem! I even am a fan of the style. I love writing in this style but find it difficult to not go off track. You did it so well!

[Odetta]

wow! Some great poems!

[Jon]

Thank you Ma'am.

[Jean]

al'Lan Mandragoran: thank you for a great poem!
can you, however, choose another topic now? this isn't quite for this forum (we try not to touch upon the DT categories here )

[Frunobulax]

Jump feather.

Light [in any and all forms]

[Frunobulax]

Surrounding Resounding
Dimly lit by the internal halogens of life
Your face has the glow of youth,
The sprightly con vivo of gab and expression.
So full and so grand,
My eyes move not from your light.
And you speak in a thousand tongues of one language.
And you speak in a thousand words of one meaning.
And you blink a thousand times in one millisecond.
And you blink a thousand other moments and whens off in a nanopartial.
Let me gaze,
Let my eyes graze,
Please let me look,
Let me forever monument in memory so sweet.
Let me see.
Let me see.
Let me, please.
As you turn to look, you again speak,
I see the words falling from your light,
From your lips so gentle and so loving.
And you spoke in one hundred different tongues of one language.
And you spoke of one hundred different words all meaning on thing.
And you saw one thousand images refracting into me.
And you saw one hundred thousand particles floating there.
Each word you spoke sounded as a hautboy.
So loud, yet so soft.
Each syllable surrounding, resounding
Within my ears and within my spine.
Be here when I wake, be here when I move.
Your face intensified in that halogen of multiplying, living, glowing cells.
All I heard was the simplicity.

[Armand St Pierre]

I see the callused feet of the singer
and know right as he tells his tale
of life growing in the concrete
that those feet were mine
walking along summers and summers ago
with an ambivolent grandmother waiting
with apple pie and grandpa's sunfish catch

those days whisper to me in startling blasts of color
what would you trade for that
or the countless but still too few
days and moments of highlighted
importance

I find these things in the light
even when it seems that there is none

[ATG]

Nice work.

[Armand St Pierre]

Five and two is despised but obeyed
Persisting through any deviated displays
This is a calming
A force through which holes are dug
That lead back again
On forced ego re-entry
through dreams that are more
thick than they are thin
(but 7 is calling12....and 12 is calling 7)
so that's it You're not out or in
plagiarizing prescriptions for paper heaven
all the while scraping about
through naughty corporate capers
And although the light of the tv
is lodged beneath your mind
the thought that you'd see me
or even another of your kind
Is out of the question
It's not even a question
It's more of a nod to a set up We had long ago
but not in this 5 and 2 land Scripted picture show

[Jean]

The subject of light is still on.

[ladysai]

light

leaping out of darkness
into wide eyes
graceful spectrum
holds our attention
til sunset brings darkness again

[Jon]

Whiskey Light

Intense for your equatorial sisters, durable for your northern brothers then disappear



Bathing brothers in glory and abandoning for half the year.



Never absence complete, a dark sky dotted with bright points



Like an overused dartboard at one of those redneck whiskey joints

[dark_hour]

Shine

The Blazing heat burned my desire,
A tyrannical reign on that midnight fire,
The o so innocent past, - gone,
In the summer could never last long.

The autumn leaves have fallen, fell,
So clique this silent hell,
And with the tears, and yet more fears,
I felt the days turn into years.

The ice, rain, love and pain,
A freezing window, a frozen heart,
The gifts were given, now it’s back to the start.

Red blossoms everywhere - ice begins to melt,
Those feelings once more - seemingly felt,
It is a secret, a secret desire,
That I may some day return to that fire.