4 Flickering Time & Beneath the Wings

image by Bonnie

Flickering Time

he knelt over her,
his hand still braced beneath her head.
she smiled up into his wrinkly old eyes.
as the gentle notes of a violin floated in the air
she saw him transform.
the wrinkles vanished
the grey turned dark again
and his smile spoke of kisses yet to come

she escaped into his soulful eyes
time sweeping away the pain
coursing through her well worn limbs
there she saw herself
in the light of his love
young and vibrant
beautiful and sensual
shy and intense

his loving whispers mingled
with the sound of the strings
a song of promise seeped into her
as her eyes closed
flashes of memories
flickered like an old film
of a day long ago when promises
bound their hands together
melding their hearts into one

she listened as time sang their tale
and clung to the feel of his hand
brushing her cheek lovingly
as their first kiss
dissolved
into their last

---

cropped just her hat...
Can you see the man kneeling?

it's strange the 'artspiration' strikes. upon viewing the images presented by Brian Miller at One Stop Poetry's Friday Poetically, i saw something that didn't seem so out of place (not when you consider the image), but it wasn't there. i'm not sure how i had missed the face of the beautiful young woman wearing the hat just left of center, but i did. all i saw was her hat...but it wasn't a hat. it was a man kneeling bent over something. when i finally saw the woman i was taken by surprise. it was already bad enough that i couldn't figure out if the woman i see on the far right with her head turn off to the side gazing at the clock is real or a figment of my imagination.

Can you see the woman?

if you think i'm crazy...you're probably right.  this wasn't the only image presented where i saw something that wasn't there.  and this time i know for certain i was seeing things.  i found the original (unmodified) image and it held nothing of what my eyes tricked me into seeing.

---

image by Bonnie

Beneath the Wings

can you see the child
hiding beneath the wings
of the angel
caught in an embrace
with the woman
melting into death's sweet kiss?
who is the this child
hiding beneath the wings
of an angel?
is she the essence of the woman
escaping once again into the world
or an innocent soul along for the ride?

---

i'm not sure what the deal is with the "death's sweet kiss."  especially when the previous writing involved a last kiss.  as for what exactly the oddity above is...i cannot say.  my intent was not to write a poem (i use that term lightly for what is scrawled above)...just to inquire if you see the child that is not really there.  (click on the image and zoom in...see if you can see the child hidden beneath the wings...it is an illusion created by the processing done to the original photo...if you can't see her...no worries...as i mentioned today i seem to be seeing things...)

0 Batch #5

Bursting with Pom Seeds
(image by rmp, that's me)

as before, there is really not much to report on the pom seed front.  i have two that fermented immediately into frothy delights.  the other two are linked together as potential lyrics (be grateful twitter doesn't allow for you input via microphone instead of keyboard). mostly i have been sending out tweetoetry--though i have one rambling to add to the mix.

anyway...while there are very few new additions, some of those from previous batches (today's leftovers) have matured into tasteful little bits.

so here goes...

---

Pom Seeds Batch #5

• please help! my love has gone astray; he promised me here he would stay; so hurry I did, straight away; without delay, without delay (erupted into kiss anew)
• you put me on a shelf and stare at me/ hold me on a pedestal as though I were a queen (I hear this like a song with a biting sound.)
• I watch the ripples on the surface/ as I sink into nonexistence (erupted into plunge into nonexistence)
• but you don't listen to a word I say/ nor see the tears that stain my face (continuation of "you put me on a shelf...")

Ramblings (bold = new)

• pathetic really ~ the way anxiety grips my heart ~ as I step outside myself ~ reaching out ~ to those on the inside of the circle ~ I skirt (could technically be classified as a tweetoetry, but...)
• ~ why do I live like this? one pill...many pills...I need to find an answer (thoughts of a poem lingered in my head upon writing this, With Every Word... In Every Action...)
• I don't have any thoughts lingering in my head ~ Is that what peace feels like? 
• ~ her giggles are like candy ~ 
• anxiety's peace ~ tastes like profanity ~ on virgin lips (thoughts of calling this a poem in its own right still lingers)
• forgive my lack of social graces... (part of a recent ramblings post, social-less soul)

Leftovers

• Information overload
• I woke with rose colored glasses and the world was as only I could dream it to be
• we were never friends; not really; how could we be; when all we did; was dance around each other (blossomed in never really friends)
• my mom use to day; we're never lost; we're just misplaced
• i hate days like today; where i'm blindsided; punched in the chest; days when all i want to do is curl up into a little ball and disappear
• "you're growing."; am I? I don't think I'm growing; maybe just walking outside myself
• love is pain and sorrow; wrapped in disguise; it laughs at me; with its sweet intoxicating lies
• I woke this evening to a dream; and found myself the real me (i tried to expand this one, but i don't think it has fermented as much as it needs to) (finally matured into As Only I Could Dream)
• I see myself in black & white; brilliant colors surround me; poke at me; eager to caress me with their warmth; but they bounce off of me
• I will live forever like this; in shadows of who I long to be

Tweetoetry

#17 (tanka-ish)
~taste of revenge

can you taste
the tart flavor of my words
do they bite
my words strike your twisted soul
intent on paying you back


#18
~shimmering beneath

I caught a glimpse
beneath
as her mask slipped
why
does she hide
such shimmering beauty?


#19
~little girl

she steals my heart
with that devilish smile
backing away
beckoning me
to chase her


#20 (septolet; a 3WW post)
~ripe for the tasting

breezy kisses
tickle
her neck

she's ripe
for the picking
like a mellow
fruit


#21
~write me a poem~

touch me
soothe me
consume me
I want to taste your words
on my lips
bitter-sweet
meant just for me


#22
~play me a song~

strum me a beat
hard and fast
a riotous sound
meant to soothe my soul
pluck each chord
on my taunt nerves
unravel me


#23 (septolet)
~whispering taste

your whispering
touch
awakens me

I melt
into the delicious flavor
of your kiss


#24
~dance with me

words dance across my tongue
drawing you in
with the slow seductive curve of my lips
as they sway* to the rhythm of my heart

(*altered original word of dance to avoid excess)


#25 (septolet)
~tear ducts

dry eyes
burn
with unshed tears

revolting tears
stage a coup
against
raging emotions


#26
~no longer

lost
in a world
I did no ask for
how do I find my way back
back into nonexistence
where I can be free
to at last
live


#27 (haiku)
~blossoming

shades of white--pink hues
spring buds on long dormant limbs
opening my soul


#28 (haiku)
~raining petals

pink teardrops descend
pooling beneath weeping trees
nourishing new life


#29 (tanka)
~apart

I wish that I knew
how to be on the inside
a part of the world
I'm always on the outskirts
a hell of my own making


#30(senryu)
~on the inside

her beauty faded
--as too often is the case--
when her looks began to shine


#31
~filled to the brim

I write
to save my soul
for where words
might otherwise drown me
I break through the leves
so they may pour free


#32 (inspired by OSP Friday Poetically)
~the sound of touch

silence
absolute utter silence
falls on deaf ears
but as bare toes curl
into loose earth
a midnight serenade
bursts to life


#33 (septolet; inspired by 3WW)
~social jitters

graced
with social phobia
jitters spread

sanity
walks a thin line
around
my soul


#34
~soul to bare

I strip myself bare
waiting for the sweet tender touch
of peace
to awaken me

2 Old Magic

i'm not sure what possessed me to take up the challenge presented at One Stop Poetry's Friday Poetically, especially at such a late hour when sleep whispers sweet nothings to my eyelids.  to make matters worse, i only used words from the list (did not add any extras...though it would have made things much easier) and no more than the number of times they were listed.  this held true for the title as well.  i did allow myself the liberty of changing the endings of words (e.g. dance =>danced; rain => raining; etc.).  i apologize ahead of time if this make no sense.

---

Old Magic

i drank in whispers
sweet sounds
carried from the moon

soon sleep took me

teardrop dreams danced
raining balloons
blue
        yellow
                    green
only to pooled
near my true love

1 kiss anew

please help! my love has gone astray
he promised me here he would stay
so hurry I did, straight away
without delay, without delay

his note I read said he would be
just waiting here beneath this tree
until my kiss should set him free
where can he be, where can he be

oh grandmother please tell me dear
my knight was not he sitting here
"ah sweet young child, you must not fear
he must be near, he must be near"

about the willow she did spin
then looked at me and fear set in
her words she spoke with much chagrin
"he's here within, he's here within"

but oh! this can't be as you say
his note just came but yesterday
and hurry I did, straight away
without delay, without delay

"oh my sweet girl did you not know
in fairy land this tree does grow
and grow it did around your beau
quite long ago, quite long ago"

is there not something I can do
"sweet girl he did give you a clue
his note my dear, read it anew
and kiss him true, and kiss him true"

Photo by Brian Miller

---

it's been a long day, but finally i found my way here.  One Stop Poetry's Friday Poetically set up a challenge, which i decided to explore while toying with another form of poetry, monotetra.  oh, and what fun it has been!

10 Tanka: Pink Rain

Pink Blooms
(image by rmp, that's me)

#1
magnolia's first bloom
brings sweet memories of you

Pink Dusted Boughs
(image by rmp, that's me)

with gorgeous pink hues
too soon petals fall like tears
purging pain to grow anew

Visions of Pink
(image by rmp, that's me)

#2
beneath lovely boughs
dusted with gorgeous pink hues
i watch it rain
flurries of petals drift down
like scattered visions of you

---

my favorite part about spring is those few weeks were the trees are dusted in hues of pinks, whites, and purples.  i'm not sure what it is about them, but my heart sighs at the sight of those lovely branches.  For One Stop Poetry's Friday Poetically, we were ask to melt away the last bits of snow that coat our thoughts and think of spring.  in doing so, i found myself think of those blossoming trees and one in particular that haunts my mind.  thus you may find there are whispers of sorrow in these two pieces, but a bit of hope too i'd like to think.

3 more than bargained for...

this evening, i made my way to One Stop Poetry for their Friday Poetically with Brian Miller.  as i read, the words struck a cord with me that runs very deep into the recesses of my psyche that i try to avoid.  unfortunately this means the beginning of this post will be what i endearingly refer to as a rambling.  for those who came to read the poem, my take on the heart, the community, my desire or angst about writing, feel free to skip to the end of this post...for the rest of you...you too may wish to avoid the recesses of my psyche and scroll down...

---

where to begin...i get the whole reciprocal effect; i visit someone, leave a comment and if i'm lucky they'll visit me and leave a comment.  i get that it builds readership and relationships.  and even though my intent in blogging was merely to get me to start writing again (a homeopathic treatment of sorts) and not to build an audience or foster relationships, seeing that people have visited and receiving comments is a definite (and strangely needed) plus.  my problem in six simple words..."social anxiety follows me into cyberspace."

i wrote a poem entitled Follower, Friend and the Like, which speaks to my unusual anxiety (some might term it a phobia--though i'm not sure they have a name for it).  i read several blogs; i bookmark them or plug them into my rss feeder on my phone so that i can keep up with what others i have found interesting are writing.  but i have never hit a "Follow" button.  i can't explain it, but the idea of publicly following someone causes such anxiety, i just can't bring myself to do it.  and i look at those who have found me interesting enough to follow and i so wish that i could reciprocate so that they would know i find their writing as interesting as they find mine, but...

if just clicking a silly but is impossible, commenting is even more of a challenge.  but one thing i have continually work on is not allowing my fears to completely control me.  so this year i made myself a rule of sorts that i need to comment on at least one blog a week.  participating in several blog communities and their challenges, i have found this daunting task to have gone well beyond one.  but commenting for me is not easy chore.  i probably labor more over a comment i leave than my own writing.  i'll read someone's post multiple times, try to get a real feel for it, try to figure out what speaks to me, because while saying "nice poem" counts as a comment, i prefer there to be some type of meaning or connection to what they write.  it makes it harder because i confess my reading comprehension skills are not really that good.  i'm a math person, very logical and structure, that sometimes other's writing is beyond me.

i sit here and i can't help but laugh (a pathetic disbelieving type of laugh).  i have enough troubles fostering relationships in real life.  i wrote a poem yesterday called Alone.  in it is the following, "i'm surrounded by people who care/ and yet/ i feel like an outsider looking in/ a part, yet separate."  if i have troubles with real life people (not that those of you reading this are not real life people, you just don't exist in my everyday personal touchable world)  how am i suppose to build and maintain them in a world where interaction is limited to comments?

well, i think i rambled enough.  i'm sure there is more in my head just dying to get out, but i'll save those of you who were brave enough to read this rambling from any further insight into my pathetic being.

---

for this poem, i admit that i stole lines from the two poems mentioned above; i thought it only fitting...


To be rid of this curse

my heart wishes to be rid of this curse
a smile spreads across my face at the thought
for but a split second
until my teeth clench
and tears itch at the corners of my eyes
i use pen and paper--fingers and keyboard
to purge myself of this evil within
but neither pen nor fingers move fast enough
i push myself into the real world and cyberspace
to face the fears that bind me
but neither real nor cyber break through the bonds
my heart wishes to be free of this curse
i itch to truly connect
to no longer feel like an outsider looking in
but rather
to feel the warmth of acceptance that eludes