Wednesday, January 29, 2014

A key

'Shapes from the past' by Mike Worrall

A leak within
Secret fairway-
I’m drifting.

The coral islet
electrical eel-
small switch
for open and
closed doors.

Affable ferryman
galvanizes
in blink.

We’re moving
adrift,
contented with
daily diet.

Silverware awaits,
expecting flesh
bit/bite/burger.

Rangy, prone
to roaming around
it arrives

through channels
invisible yet
breathing
in my neck

scent of
coming soon
spring.


Read more: Three Word Wednesday, Theme Thursday, PU: Mid-Week Motif, Imaginary gardens with real toads: Words Count with mama Zen , Personal Challenge #2 with Grace

Monday, January 27, 2014

Horses on strike

'The Mill' by Andrew Wyeth, 1964

How to numb a part of spring memory 
to enjoy the winter cool/ slip/ wind
-ness…

subtle snowflakes slide sequentially
yes, sky leaned…swish!
put on a spurt touring maestro
North West,
horsing thru slits into my restless soul,

milling around the big glassy eyes
houses facing each other-
seems, they always been white…

Squeaky wheels under the wagon
rush in the way, put before horse,
a cart, filled with snow instead of hay…
filled with love your heart…


Read more at: Magpie Tales

Saturday, January 25, 2014

Chasing the shadows


Juggling old bones
to embrace the past of
countries and states,
different aspects of monad,
the missing strands –
unblock the sacred voice
from sustained doubts…

Oh, keepers of time,
I’d love to reveal
my past shyly plans,
the burden I carried
tip-toe between snakes
up to ladders
of levels and clans…

While chased the shadows
today’s disappeared,
got sucked in the
blueprint of time zone,
the sun is lapsing –
retired prompter,
completed his work,-
gone.













                                                                                                                 Brenda Warren

Read more at: Sunday Whirld'Verse Poetics: On the Other Hand

Thursday, January 23, 2014

I saw you crying...

I saw you crying
in the blue
with eye wide open
to accept
the real life,
the bitter truth
about me,
my hasty step...

The tears
so helplessly
touched ground
in desperation
something change:
the seasons,
power taking,
wounds,
the feelings
suddenly emerged…

I saw the light
in every drop
before it lost
the shape
in swoon..-
the trees,
the chroniclers
recapped
the water path
on face of moon…


Shared with PU Poetry Pantry

Wednesday, January 22, 2014

Show up!

Source: www.zazzle.com


A mirror, I assume…
has a host, a ghost
and the guardian too.

A host with pomp invites
to visit the museum
of rare collections.

I probe within, tap/tips
the fingers of life,
left in the wrinkles.

The ghost of mirror
appears for moment
with malevolent smile.

Repulsive, he points
what it could be if…
I kept my style.

The guardian wipes
the mirror crystal clear -
I see a radiant self.

The host leans in bow,
says: ‘keep showing up’,
at distance - ghost's
dubious glance...

Read more at: PU Mid-Week Motif ~ Mirror,

Treee Word Wednesday

Sunday, January 19, 2014

In the Rain

'Musician in the Rain' by Robert Doisneau 

World drowned in the fog.
No lights. No colors. Grey.
Though…spirits mingle,
ascended,
the masters of non-STOP-
able creation,
they capture changes
in the air
with single
raindrop.

Wet canvas come to live
on cue,
the distant train
picks up the p- a- c- e…
What city’s beckoning
in view?
What cast’s partaking
divine test?

The cloaks keep hearts
from humid stream,
the music trembles
on the edge,
disclosed by swelling
buds of dream, -
to all who trust
their own sage.

Read more at: Magpie Tales

Life cycle


Evergreen conifer mighty cedar easily sheds the snow 
from its downward-drooping limbs
while the child, cute in a cap, neglects the stillness,
enjoys the white lumps on the hardy shoulders,
playing with kids snowballs, wearing Christmas trinkets.

Old cedar sighs, conjures the spirits of the forest sent 
the curious Jay,followed/carried by East wind;  who has  
loved the welcoming twigs, hasn’t flied/bent too far from 
the nest, broke up the cone before the tree…

The parent twined/curled the roots around the child’s, 
backed him up,watching through the maturity time, and 
the cycle continues…

by Brenda Warren


Shared with PU: Poetry Pantry

Friday, January 17, 2014

Sight-reading

'Secret Rage' by Victoria Lenoire

Old patterns coming
to surface:
the rhythm creates
the grip to take for
while explore
the life,
no, not cutting knife,-
to throw, to discharge,-
but use as plunge
into unknown depth;

the harmony
of tides an ebbs,
where vibrant voices
woven in a choir,
but never sound
in unison;

the melody
inverses on 
every breath,
dare recognize
two alike patterns,
or decode new,
a gift to Universe.

Stars know:
you are sight-reading...


Shared with d'verse Open Link Night

Thursday, January 16, 2014

Reminisce


She hides.
Wants to surprise
Under the snow
of privacy.

Spontaneously
unobstructed
nature prepares…

Will old yesterday
brown and grey
clothes
become nowadays
quintessence/
zest
if tuned in new
frequency…

The best-
look within,
adjust to
5D see/set
view.

Pause. Reminisce.
As days continue
Snow melts.

Shared with Open Link Monday Imaginary gardens with real toads

Tuesday, January 14, 2014

Metamorphosis


Twinkling snowflakes,
sun wipes
the window.

Wide smears
of mood/ weather
painting.

See. Hark. Thaw.

Slow motion
birds
practice
Philip Glass
‘Metamorphosis’.

It strokes me
with mock / muack(ing)
sounds –
a platitude?

Solitary 
winter plot,
a hint to soar
till the last
melodic 3rd…

Shared with d'Verse Open Link Night

Sunday, January 12, 2014

Beholder

Phare de la Jument off the coast of Brittany by Jean Guichard

At the end of earth,
Finistere,
Where the waters boil,
swallow/the ships/with storm/

Man’s become an eye of
La Jument,
granite Light House ,-
saved/escaped/survived.

Hasn’t seen huge waves,
called by soul,
met the mighty challenge,
checked/the will/at work.

Stunned beholder froze,
Zoom! No waste! –
Enchanted keeper captured -
beauty/ on the edge/ of death.



Read more at Magpie Tales

Shared with PU Poetry Pantry

Saturday, January 11, 2014

Necklace of Pearls

 Elisabetta Trevisan Art Prints
'Necklace of Pearls' by Elisabetta Trevisan

When my eyes
grow big,
filled with
water,
I flick/flip
the feet
into flow.

I see
the bottom
of creek,
lifeless pool,
impacted
by storm –
the pearls,
scents of
unknown
remote
scenes.

I follow
golden tale
on haunting
quest
along
the litter
of twisting
plants
to illuminate,
scrutinize
the ancient
path,
the price
have been
paid
for
abandoning
water
once…



by Brenda Warren

Read more at: Imaginary Garden with Real Toads: Sunday Feature Artist: Elisabetta Trevisan

Sunday Whirl

Friday, January 10, 2014

Overcast

 Deborah Glessner Art
Deborah Glessner 'Landscape Orb'

Motion sickness….
Why do I need
to spin?
I felt so cozy
in the cocoon
of soft/swell/spell,
but
essential overcast
has shielded
the glorious song,
the vortex
sucked
into strange
territory.
Hard lesson
to learn –
how to stop…

Read more at: Imagine garder with real toads: Artistic Interpreetation with Margaret: Orbs

Thursday, January 9, 2014

Touching the base

Every time
I die,
while
reaching out
find your scales
empty.

Oh,
restless soul,
called
to serve,
forgetting,
numb
to personal
hum/song/setting!

Have you felt
my cheek,
snuggled to the heart
to fulfill
humankind's
priorities…

Wednesday, January 8, 2014

New balance


…stalking the shorelines
breath isolated
Northern
wind,

in your faithful power
to scrutinize,
to posses,
to build the window
to frame / frozen / flakes
in
side out to see
if someone pass by
accidentally
or maybe
land
New/ Snow /dirigible
in millions
back yards…



Read more at: Three Word Wednesday, PU: Mid-Week Motif

Sunday, January 5, 2014

Yesterday

New York at night Vivienne Gucwa

I saw 2 sides
of the solitary moon
simultaneously

the bright part
svelte & stubborn
has been covered
by transparent quilt
of second one…

I wondered then
how is your prow
never fits wholly
its own harbor,
grasps mine…



Read more at: Magpie Tales