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Rula Apr 24, 2012

Mr. Rainbow

Mr. Rainbow attracted me
He Killed me with his charming shots
So I read more about him
And here's what I got..

Mr. Rainbow
----------------

Through crystal clear elegancy
passes the magic of the light,
to split the droplets' transparency,
and turn it to a colorful delight.

Look at the horizon and see
it's adorned with a bow;
violet, blue, red and green
indigo, orange and yellow.

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Esker Apr 24, 2012

T A R A N T E L L I

Vice prick levelling the salt
the fingers bleed moist like a delicate
Brachhetto d Aqui

there are cool timid voices
the sister wells
thrown down a rope they sing

quick goes the bucket before they
can haul you in
a busband was what they wanted

so many voices singing in the rain
and terrace tops

S
scribbler Apr 23, 2012

WIND's PURPOSE

In dark wee hours of the morn
a blustery wind howls at the window
attempting to shake loose the panes
and warm itself inside.

Abed, I snuggle deeper
beneath the quilted warmth
like a squirrel in its leafy nest
on verge of drifting off to a troubled slumber
awaiting a possible late frost.
The farmers' bane.

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Nordic cloud Apr 23, 2012

DESERT BLUSH - Poetry/Prose WORKSHOP

JUDYANNE'S PROSE:-

Spring is fragile, easily banished by the south wind. Despite the presage of warmer and sunnier days to come with the welcome northerly breeze of yesterday, a cold, wintry wind blew. Today, when the sun rose from the desert in the east and slowly brightened it, the morning sky would be covered from horizon to horizon with a blanket of multi-coloured fluffy cloud that looks just like wool on a sheep.

K
Kailashana2 Apr 23, 2012

Falling in Love

Sometimes you fall through a deepening crack,
Mt. Etna burns in your throat, and you spit out broken shards
of clay, coiled like a snake around your own ashes.
Maybe a hole in the sky
opens to strike you down on the way to Damascus
or maybe you walk through a wall on the way
to somewhere else cloaked in invisibility and feathers
of the Great Horned Owl. You've never been here before
and you're a little queasy at first, a little tipsy from
too much sugar in your bloodstream. But then it's

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loved Apr 23, 2012

Arousal Unusual

Let me arouse you

No man, no woman,

no two men or women together,

can lie in solitary solitude,

in a single bed untouched.

the male's,

particularly of teens

rises hard as bone,

morning wood

as if forever,

then they two have to manipulate the clitoris,

as man can cum within moments

but women take eons,

so as the manipulations are on,

then sucked

that licked

all is now needed is a slight fix

once the lubricated two
are within each other,

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AmmaKonadu Apr 23, 2012

BASIC NEEDS

After I write now...

I need

To write again

I need

To feel the inspiration that comes with it

The emotions that run

Through the hands

Through the fingers

I need 

To feel

My heart racing

To feel

My head pounding

I need

The relief

That floods the soul

The excitement

That tingles in my body

Oh I need

To be whole!

I need 

To be me

Just as I am intended to be

In Need

Of poetry!!

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judyanne Apr 23, 2012

honkas - prose to poetry workshop (final edit) - further addition especially for jess

hi voltage cables and bits of PVC
there’s bound to be something interesting
he can make with these
not a spaceship, not a robot
something undefined

lost in imagination’s thrall
danger unnoticed
quietly stalking

honkas

not the small
those tender succulent
sumptuous joy

nor the huge
pinioned transport that soar
up and beyond
to enchantment
and lands where strange people live

but the medium-sized
long sharp teeth and giant wings
aggressive
hungry

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Jahleel Drigo Apr 23, 2012

Grumpy Guy

We three grew up together
In that place so far from where stand today
Where the mountains touch the sky
And darkness rests in the depths of the valleys.
Three friends, one really grumpy guy.

Cracking jokes with the other
Hoping he would smile
Even only for a while
He would laugh,it would almost instantly die.
Damn! What a grumpy guy.

Heard fell terribly ill late July
I recall thinking, Surely
He won't be the first of us to die.
On Sunday I said my good bies.

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Cloudthings Apr 22, 2012

Sherry and the scoundrel (workshop Prose to Poetry) Final edit... back to first write!

Working backwards
From what the firemen found
A lone woman
On the charred ground
Stilled lungs
Filled with Gasoline smoke
Won’t ever tell the tale
Of a heart so broke

A building burning
By criminal hand
A vengeful payback
For a drug deal demand
She might have made it,
The scoundrel's mole
But in the end,
It was her life they stole
She just couldn’t leave
Her puppy in the fire
So she went back in
To save her heart’s desire