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b l u e/sheaves

twilight wounds
the summer eve's
are longing with their fire aches
the broken chimes
like heart breaks

these ghosts long faded
pale and spoken
the spell you bound me with
has fallen

press your mortal wounded mouth
upon the pains received
that passion room
where hope deceived
cast lurid light
the stained linen sleeves

you were blue
in the magic glow
a tv screen
a movie slow

shadow flake
pink as shaved ice
drips down the flaws
of disharmony
cinnamon glow
like the worn fingerprints
on a stolen cameo

dance tall
framed in the dirty painted
the nervous hitch
beating with each breath
baited breasts
beneath the velvet
the happy sheen
curled at a corner
dripping tears
immaculent and clean
the dark rivers of mascara
sinful hope
caught in the fingers
the edge of flickering hope

i was once there
lovesick with dope
pulled fast against
the curve of these hips
the smitten taste
of the bright teeth

hasten texture
on an arm lain lost
forbidden cheat
inked dark
a cost

bright with stars
illuminations tow
draws dreams
aside where
shadows go

lay your head down baby
let your hair spill free
it was in the cards
how we meant to see
the endings treasure
darkening wide
the cracked mirrors future
the lost undwed bride.....

Editing stage: 


Some of this one seems familiar,
the framed in the dirty walls or near bout's,
There is a thread
A hard twisted yarn
Streaking through thoughts
Held outside then in
Drifting thoughts of love
Feelings drawn taunt
Trampled on in youths dream
A fixed point of reference
Then a silence where the words babble
A love story of loss
Then a hated youth of disappointed reality.
It is hard to follow such thoughts
Young Wolf gather to your spirit being
Let it write, let the words find a printer
Release the sighs and the struggle
Print these damn it
Yours Ian.T

There are a million reasons to believe in yourself,
So find more reasons to believe in others..

we just have this medium dont we! open slate..never knowing when the crash of it may come..
nothing solid in reality...
because its always evolving...always changing..a transition
we want the concrete unmoving form of love..stability
we see it for others......but its the yearn...
stable marriages thrive work..reciprocate...exist...
but the angst of loss...of want..of not being the "one" for another
while we watch those struggle...privy and distant
the show wishing we were the stars with roses thrown..
the gifts..the giving....a totality of obsession and passion...

sounds like Phantom of the Opera!

or i have been around long enough even by high school
to understand that humans are fickle and rather human
at all costs....

i like that you said this one was difficult to follow in thoughts..
thoughts are thoughts...until they pass into the hood of feeling..
roses are red..
twinkle twinkle..there are reasons people just stay there..
not everyone is a bukowskie but they love him..
love to read him..understand him..
or Plath.. Wolfe..tragic figures

bitter and anger and hatred...a boiling pot on the stove...
running dry and the scorched metals or sizzling away
cooling off with replenishment to sizzle away again

i evolved from Orgami..To this Esker...the move slow
and methodical....from the tender writes about nature
and slightly hinting at melodramatic themes without
dialogue to the darker more further deep enough writes
complete with dialogue to the completely out there hazy
light....or dim light that its hard to discern the shapes...

always the delver...
never the delved...

tomatoes and stones..

there a poem title or a book title.
either way its words..poetry..
the endless parade of writing

blue sheaves....when all that is gone
the steam of anger....bitterness
there is just plain nothing..
no drama..
no one has gone on for the
married....the pursued cuts through
quick and if we were part of the chase
to enlivened the chassee and object of its gone.. hobby.....kick stones along.


is there more
/ so much more exactly.....but its hard
to bother with it....look after bills and mortgages
maintain the frequency and repetitive competiton
with for and towards some friends....

nothing personal but wives....objexts of affection
come and go....guess they werent the one..
and for the solid ones..hurrah...the large complex
roll of the dice and the egos and fluff
and ignorance all is there...but solid and stable
and slow and dull sometimes wins the race..

i love it.....because the more i let go the more i understand
my life here more...the more contacts i get in my city
here and online with other sites

i accept the fact that im old...
that im weird and poor
people get mad at you if you accept this role
and they get even more confused if you understand
the great extent of tolerance and intolerance

hate to say it but i live in the now..
warts..smells ..craziness and all..
and im meeting others who are like
this.....we spend time on the trails
or sitting in coffee shops talking
shop business of world etc...

chase a star and stardom...nothing
wrong with it.....just have to have
something to give that people buy
and so many put this on looks
superficial things....
and when they run out....
the lovers stop being interested
people smile but are already taken
and only truly meant a smile..
what then?

im fifty.......ive made incredible odds
ive got talent for art...writing..and poetry
with intuition and some...all Gifts from
God.....i merely take credit for working
all of this and keeping a balance

its hard to see the youth with their entitlement
attitude and no work....andharder to look at..sad
really when they cannot do the work if pressed..
that a lot of it is an unwell desire
the values our parents held fast too and put into me
are still here....polite enoughness....
its human but why shove eveyone under a bus
and say your sorry and pull them up to shove them
under the bus again? guess you werent sorry..

the positive people go same with the old soured ones..
just the way it is.......if i was sour not working to
be sweet because that is the prettier people...
not my crowd...not pretty....never going to be one of them..
and thank god its not about looks for me...
never was...

i tend to like the authentic though.....i think im pretty authentic..
i want to see where the writing will go for me...
i call this writing now more then poetry

good old stable Neopoet....always going to be here..
Thank You Neopoet!
thank you Ian!

author comment

I read this reply and it is a wonder of being you, thank you for the insight of a free mind and the things that mean something to you.
Go well young Wolf, there are many trails yet to run, we are honoured that you walk with us,
Yours Ian.T

There are a million reasons to believe in yourself,
So find more reasons to believe in others..

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