Come on people, post your poems. Don't be shy. We/I need this. It'll be fine, I know ya'll have plenty of poems to post, poems that you keep to yourself, that mean so much to you, but you don't dare share. Please Share!
I have horrible grammar, but that doesn't stop me. I have a good story I want to tell, or a idle moment in time that was so beautiful to me, I have to write it, and post it so that everyone who reads it may somehow feel as I did that one moment in time. Post poems! Please! I'd love to read them.
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Here's one I love to share often:
COOL, COTTON COMFORT
I wore him like a tight pair of jeans,
and he looked damn good on me.
It was almost obscene,
that tight pair of jeans.
He didn't fit,
and I was proud of it
and the way they'd stare
at that man I'd wear.
that pair of jeans.
Well, I'm older today,
and I've got a man that fits
like a pair of sweats, heather grey,
and he looks damn good on me.
And that tight pair of jeans?
Well, I threw him away.
from:
Spirits and Oxygen
Copyright © 2003
by Yolanda Coulaz
Purple Sage Press
Hi all, I'll play -
The following written after our moving from the Big City to a 4th tier 'burb; it was a tough transition. We felt quite alienated after the move. In the city, everyone talked to each other. But out here in a townhome community on a pond, there are strange, invisible boundaries. Everyone drives straight into their attached garage; contact is minimal, you meet no one. We wonder - does anyone actually live in those other structures, behind those dark windows? There is a certain unease, and yet . . .
Hawthorne
Cityscape - closed doors, sullen opaque windows
Looking outward like so many zombie eyes
Staring at everything, seeing nothing.
Countryscape - a rabbit sits motionless, frozen.
Small birds bounce through the air, careening off
Currents of flying insects.
A hunger for home, a need for nature has built
This paradox place . . . instant strangers: neighbors,
And long gone memories from childhood, the pond.
Hey now Jackpine,
Nice take on the differences between city and burb. I would've thought people would've been more open in the burbs......I've been a stranger in big cities and small, and the general attitude I got was wariness. No faith in mankind any more today, oh well, as the Doors once sang.."people are strange, when you're a stranger........" Here's my take on small town USA....
Where I Come From
A scarecrow leers at me today.....
He lurks behind a fence,
standing silent sentinel
against the scavengers above.
There are many fences
where I come from -
parceling fortresses
behind tree-lined streets.
Families gather at the local fields
to watch their children shag -
Clucking with friends while they
covet their neighbor's wives.
There are many churches
where I come from,
Sunday morning saints atoning
for a week of indulgence.
Careful eyes with pasted smiles
and a fairly hearty "How do ya do?"
are strewn about with the
wariness of a dog over a bone.
Yes, neighbors are watching
where I come from.
They guard their young against
the onslaught of pushers and pimps.
The long-arms ever on the prowl;
guarding their borders against
the rising tide of muggings and
infections from neighboring cities.
Small town USA is where I come
from; teeming with poise, pride and
petty rivalries - just all American
people living an all American dream.