Death in a foreign land

Betty

 

Charge woman,
Through life, take it all away
Charge, man,

Pretty poet, write it down,
When was the last time you looked at a lover,
In the sand,

Swam with sting rays,
Over African boys asleep with pink men,

Charge woman, stagger drunk,
Through the pavements,
Outside home,
Under the lights by the stoop,

Bring it home, the suitcase in the corner full of,
Yellow memories,

And language.

 

 

Published in: on March 22, 2016 at 07:34  Leave a Comment  
Tags: , , , ,

Loosing our minds

 

Righteousness, Relationship, Time, Alzheimers

I am right.

You may say that I am not, but
I have,

Demanded love and,

You,
Are wrong.

Black and blue and red hummingbird, I
Know what I am saying, you

Left the kids again,
And we argue,

Tall as bamboo we,
Kill each other,

Taking long hours to,
Identify precisely who left the faucet running,

Forgetting the long, yellow grass of home –
I am right,

You never listen, and that’s the problem
Left,

It says so on the map.

Fold your wings.
Concede.

Allow the dull,
Green mother

Her time at the till

 

Picture       ♦Space Shuttle Challenger Crew♦

-short evocative poetry-

We will never forget them, nor the last time we saw them, this morning, as they prepared for their journey and waved goodbye and “slipped the surly bonds of earth” to “touch the face of God.” – Space shuttle challenger-

 

Published in: on January 21, 2016 at 09:02  Leave a Comment  
Tags: , , , , , , ,

Aphrodisiac

short poetry, evocative, environment, growth, spiritual, freedom, new, fresh

why don’t you?

lift your arms and
heal yourself

stand taller than you
were made

be stronger
than fear

mould dreams into
rainbows

why don’t you
set root and

paint the world
green with envy

you are alive

simplify your needs and
grow wings,

or stand still,
and skin lizards,

decorate yourself
with war paint,

shake off the dust,
why don’t you

uproot yourself and
walk a mile

in any direction you like,

you must at least
try,

To rage against
this idea

that you cannot

and perhaps
the sweat off your brow

will seed
fertile ground,

coat handsome men with lust
for life

become
aphrodisiac

photo –webstockpro.com

evocative short poetry – words move

Published in: on January 20, 2016 at 14:54  Leave a Comment  
Tags: , ,

Street-walker

God and Folly

It is raining outside.

I am reminded that,
Rain has rhythm.

Rhythm has heart-beat,
A beat, a

Rat-a-tat-tat,

Every city has its gangsters, its’
Street corners, its

Unbelievers, every

Heart has its beat, and
Every beating heart, its’

God,

Where folly is a pink bear,
An African American,

A bionic car round the bend,
Sunlight at last,

Caught,
In the hair,
Of the joggers,

In the difference it makes to,

Walk with a friend,
For a mile or a minute,

Healing,
Not everywhere is fear.

♦photo♦ Laurieanichols Scenes from New York in January

-short evocative poetry-

 

 

Published in: on January 5, 2016 at 05:48  Leave a Comment  
Tags: , , , , , ,

Hostage

image

Promises are made to be broken,
Thwarted,

Made again,
Whilst Jasmine pours,

Perfume;

Where God,
Is an impression, a

Figment,
Asking why, if

Birds and fish and,
Creatures of all kinds,

Flourish,

We terrorize each other,
Impossible,

Even at crimson sunsets, to
Be the first to apologise, and

Stop polluting the Earth?

Picture – ♦Reuters/Daily Mail

-short evocative poetry-

 

 

Pansies, Holly’s and Twinkly Lights

image

The brown bee,
Big as a bear,

That visits my Polyandra,

Flies meticulous patterns around morning blooms
Dispersing pollen,

As easily as the hummingbird next to it,
Serenades hibiscus.

We spend time collecting memories and ornaments like,
Christmas bulbs have no lifetime,

We miss Pansy’s and Holly’s and Twinkly lights,
At Sundown,

When closets shut,
And tears are caressed by lovers or husbands,

Beautiful lives spent,
Draping balconies and seasons;

Bumble bees for a time.

Picturelaurieanichols

-short evocative poetry-
For a special friend, at this time.

Published in: on December 19, 2015 at 05:38  Leave a Comment  

After

Cancer, palliative

2004_150 002

We spend our days,
Getting ready for tomorrow,

Hoping the past will not catch us,
The bad eating, the saccharin juices, when

Now is the only moment, to

Love, to
Speak,

Re-pack your life, forgive –
Go,

On an adventure or,
Simply state your piece,

It will be alright.

We may yet,
Save the climate.

♦photo♦ – High Museum Art of Atlanta

 

-short evocative poetry-

For my friends battling Cancer.

Published in: on December 14, 2015 at 23:30  Leave a Comment  
Tags: , , , , ,

Choose

Choose, environment

Bombing everything,
You prevaricate,

Humans in an upside-down chandelier,
Prevaricating,

Pompous,
Unable,

Hot air rising will cool.

Cold air,
Kelvin

Is frozen solid so,

Focus.
Save a butterfly.

Choose.

♦Photo♦ThingLink

short, evocative, poetry

Published in: on December 10, 2015 at 04:48  Leave a Comment  
Tags: ,

Fine Dining

evocative short poetry education

Do chickens hold their food with their feet while they are eating?

Some birds do actually,
The Ornithologists have discovered,

Hold their food with their feet whilst dining,
Fine dining,

Eat with their hands,
Astonishingly.

Using ones fingers at dinner is perfectly acceptable.

♦photo♦ Jason Reed for Reuters

-evocative short poetry-

Published in: on November 24, 2015 at 05:52  Leave a Comment  
Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

Office Lover

 xPWRd3p

Dreaming of;

Colorful balloons on an African plain,
Hot air rising, with

Rich people making eye contact,
Heaving brandy glasses at the bar by the salt-lick lake,

Making new friends with,
Levitating boobs or

Buoyant balls,
Out on the reef, whilst;

Putting out lurid spread-sheets,
At the office photocopier,

With Sam,
And his dark blue eyes,

Hoping buoyant balls will crack it too,
That male or female,

Cleavage wins,

That bobbing balls will sway him from the levitating boobs of Caroline in the corner,

Will bring Sam round,
With his dark blue eyes,

To dreaming of African sunsets with me.

 

 

 

-evocative short poetry-

Published in: on November 24, 2015 at 05:37  Leave a Comment  
Tags: , , , , ,

We don’t dance anymore

older-black-couple-discussing-

 

We don’t dance anymore,
And it happened so quickly.

We sold our souls on the galactic market,
For peanuts.

The Earth recovered though, its
Nature.

We sold everything to be together,
We did, and

Life happened.

This far down the line, we’re all that’s left and
You still are,

The most beautiful thing about me.

♦Photo:  Mary Pendergreene

-evocative short poetry-

 

Published in: on November 4, 2015 at 08:24  Leave a Comment  
Tags: , , , , , ,

God is a touch-screen too.

rtx1gzco

He kills,

While we are touching everything else,
Touch-screens everywhere,

Apparently God kills,

In Catholic Garb,
Violet,

In Coptic yellow, in
Jewish robes,

God kills surreptitiously,

At sunset,
On bridges, through

Garrulous Muslims,

It is a mistake to believe that the only touch-screen around,
Is email.

God is a touch-screen.

We do not remember friends, we
Remember enemies,

We do not remember being appreciated, we
Remember being insulted.

Our thoughts on the environment create the environment and our thought,
Is momentarily polluted.

We want intelligent whales and emotional elephants yet we kill in God’s name, we

Poison one another and blame it on God, where
God is not the problem, we

Instead believe the sycophant –

Touch,
Screen.

 

♦picture♦ Brian Snyder, Reuters

-evocative short poetry-

 

 

 

 

Published in: on September 14, 2015 at 18:46  Leave a Comment  
Tags: , ,
Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 174 other followers

%d bloggers like this: