27 February 2012 - Sutures Rip Anew - ballade

Had a very painful end to a conversation with my youngest daughter tonight...it has left me with a hole I thought I’d closed.  I guess not.  She still cannot see me as a person who has feelings too, as someone who bleeds quietly while she moves past, believing that forgetting what has happened in the past is the best route.  Until she needs something and I can’t hold my pain back.  Wish I could, sometimes, but perhaps I don’t want shallow relationships and find only death within such a ripple of time.  Forgiveness can be done by one person but unfortunately, reconciliation takes two.  Guess this is just another suture I’ll have to repair, even if it holds the fabric of pain from spilling.  So hard to find much hope in my faith in this moment, and sorry to have to say this.

Anyway, here’s the poem, written with every intent to get the bad feelings out and for no other reason.  Just more shit I’m supposed to take.

27 February 2012 - Sutures Rip Anew - ballade

Bring back the memories locked and put away,

a feeling, sick, incestuous, mired below;

an edge in voices finds that hurt has strayed

because that’s what the shallow waters grow.

An elephant encased in white, I know,

stirs drinks within the room she’s placed me in––

a darkness decks of steel can’t fathom shows

that sutures ripped anew still lap at sins.

I guess she buried bones with blood that day,

it’s hard to understand I’m still her foe...

there’s nothing to the wind that claims I pay

on faceless ponds that mirror where I go.

She clenched her teeth and fists as water rose

and drowned the fact I’m still a father then.

She leaves; can’t hear the gasp that chokes my soul

when sutures rip anew, still lapping sins.

A tide of time, a sigh we gently lay,

soon ripples up to tap the boat I row,

it’s empty now––she’s swum for shore to trade

the pain relationship ordains and stows

between two hearts, connecting winds that blow;

and missing in the passing, no one wins

when deeper waters stir and no one’s home

to suture rips anew, still laps of sin.

Adrift, the oars are gone and waters slow;

I fear the sands upon my beach are thin

while one last cut remains a heart to sew...

the other sutures rip anew and map my skin. 

5-14-12

params: ababbcbC x3, bcbC

26 February 2012 - Life's Canvas - sijo

This poem takes a look at youth, how so very intense is its color, while the colorless vista of old age (winter) is the only tool that can find the original canvas from which youth has sprung.  One of those ‘youth is wasted on the young’ type poems combined with ‘with age, comes wisdom’.

26 February 2012 - Life's Canvas - sijo

The color of skies in spring are over-saturated hues,

too full of tears that dilute the traces left by swollen eyes;

only winter horizons find the original canvas.

4-08-12

params: The sijo is a 3-line poem consisting of between 44 to 46 syllables. Each line has 14 to 15 syllables. Line 1 presents a problem or theme, line 2 develops or 'turns' the thought, and line 3 resolves the problem or concludes the theme. The first half of the final line employs a 'twist' by means of a surprise in meaning, sound, tone or other device. To end with originality of wit, a profound  observation or a strong emotional finale is a must

25 February 2012 - Bloody Weave - triolet

More musing from the argument; but, this is just the way I let the emotions run free while permanently caging them.

25 February 2012 - Bloody Weave - triolet

Annealed to convention, she hates;

there’s blood within the carpet’s weave.

With venom, serpent chooses mates

annealed to convention.  She hates

the way my tongue so aggravates.

Is it so hard to then believe

annealed to convention she hates,

there’s blood within the carpet’s weave?

3-28-12

params: A8, B8, a8,A8,a8,b8,A8,B8

24 February 2012 - Nightwish - rap sonnet

Just something that flowed while listening to ‘Feel for You’ by Nightwish, the orchestral metal band.

24 February 2012 - Nightwish - rap sonnet

Tremble and flitter, chide and chitter

forcibly remove yourself, just go;

resembling litter, stain the ground,

between the pavement grooves, you’ll flow.

Stutter and gasp, there isn’t time to tell

which lie has led you here, and which did not;

shuttered in the grasp, falling down the well,

stroked by many fears, you’ve slipped all knots.

Like heavy metal, rake the sound until it cuts,

bleed and die, then bleeding, die some more;

if all such music takes and pounds, then strut––

can’t tell you when to listen or what for.

Release the dogs, there’s hares to chase and call,

and only one hole down which we forever fall.

3-28-12

params: lots of rhyme, exterior and interior, some kind of rhythmic beat

23 February 2012 - Living In-Between - fv

Just an idle rambling musing, sparked by an argument with T tonight...

23 February 2012 - Living In-Between - fv

If life is one long breath

and we get only one

moment

to exhale

and

only one moment

to

inhale,

can you

live

desperately enough

to make

the in-between

matter?

3-28-12

22 February 2012 - Kiss Met - aubade

Here’s something else Audrey liked to believe in; kissing, kissing a lot.  So, let’s see what I can do with this...

22 February 2012 - Kiss Met - aubade

He trimmed the rain, she washed the moon

and in between

kisses chased the stars

He couldn’t sing, she was deaf and mute

and in between

kisses lit night’s candles

He had empty pockets, she had expectations

and in between

kisses burned a hole

His awkward shyness, her love of riddles

and in between

kisses were served like salads

He waited by the curb, she waited inside

and in between

kisses opened doors

He stammered when he called, she only listened

and in between

courage kissed patience

His car broken down, she always took the L

and in between

kisses met with kismet

**

They say time stalls when love is being kissed;

and I’m not here to dispute that fact.

3-26-12

params: a love song set at dusk/night.

21 February 2012 - Prettiest Girls - rinterzato

This poem’s theme springs from part of a quote on a blogger’s ‘about me’ page, the specific line from something Audrey Hepburn once said; “I believe that happy girls are the prettiest girls”.  Should be self explanatory from here.

21 February 2012 - Prettiest Girls - rinterzato

The words belong to silver screens of yore

‘believe that happy girls are prettiest’

there’s resonance when application’s core

brings light to bear on lessons soon learned best.

There’s smiles and lips that widen yet unseen,

there’s cheeks that never touch the eyes or soul

and depths that never stirred, make looks obscene;

too many paper rags on racks are tolled.

there’s three dimensions,

there’s sight and sound

there’s no pretensions,

where hearts are found

there’s more to winks

there’s breadth to sighs

these chains hold links

like phony holds its lies

Don’t turn or move too sudden––you’ll be gone,

a profile disappearing, set on edge;

and turning full, your back will change like dawn

and paper thin, facades cry beauty’s hedged.

I know what Audrey means, I know that type––

when beauty in the holder’s eye is hype.

3-26-12

params: rinterzato;  any sonnet with 8 shorter lines interspersed either metered or not, rhymed or not.