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ABOUT CURSES--updated

Submitted by Geremia on Thu, 2012-09-27 19:45

ABOUT CURSES: 1882 , Calabrian hills

She bared her breasts
untouched by love’s caress
or infant’s kiss
to the winter moon
pale and full
demon clouds riding
a cold north wind
passing through.

In unholy Gregorian
she murmured
times three
and three more
an incantation
upon each generation
of the House of Red
she lay a curse on six plus one
beyond seven none.

.

CONTAGIO................................................orchid dust....

Submitted by Esker on Thu, 2012-09-27 18:15

deadfall
the windmill shadow
like a sorrowed hush of dusk

Decline we the
singular mulitude
swirling round the mind hive
axis

Fouette
infirmary
round clockwork
turns

while the sky whimpers
and souls burn

My Twin Rainbow Supreme

Submitted by docmaverick on Thu, 2012-09-27 15:01

I spied a Rainbow Grande one time
I could've hit it with a stone,
the sun opened wide the way her morning does
so I watched the twin rainbow, alone.

Serendipity's grande gesture sent glowing rays
flooding my eyes with awed radiance,
it was too much to see by myself,
but I absorbed it's entire brilliance!

Humbled am l as l try to say words
that accurately tells all that it brings;
this private Twin "bow" Supreme showed colors to me
with a vibrancy that taught me to make wings;

Autumnal Ball (a prosey poem)

Submitted by Candlewitch on Thu, 2012-09-27 11:09

Autumnal Ball

sun dappled shadows gambol on the ground
swaying branches ablaze with muted colors
Gaia laughs
shimmering translucent mirth
she shakes her head tossing her hair
as leaves tumble in a madcap freefall
cavorting gaily in the swirling gusts of wind!

length and strength ..prosaic poetry

Submitted by loved on Thu, 2012-09-27 07:35

length and strength
to my mind come two vitally important dimensions length and the power we all call strength .Both are equally important in all walks of life not only in the matter which some think out of this life but in every survey of imagination take a stride length means in poetry not being epicurial and the strength implies the power of conviction in your own diction of what one wants to convey direct and straight

An Immortal Vice

Submitted by Roscoe Lane on Thu, 2012-09-27 06:13

An Immortal Vice..

In the glass house there was a pen,
coffee loyalty card plus a dice.
Belief, to mend all that he’d broken,
but still he knew they were only a vice.

A roll of the dice never harmed a sole,
while scribing words were so painful.
As the ink dried scribbles took their toll,
he felt a gambler’s unbalanced approval.

The vice was just a crack from the surface,
creating all sort of dither, fear and loss.
Delusions took hold with such finesse,
alluding the misconception, of a final toss.

someone

Submitted by judyanne on Thu, 2012-09-27 04:36

there's someone out there somewhere in forever
my complement, regardless where I am
in ageless rhythm with my soul-mate’s heart
I celebrate the beauty of existence

our purpose and agendas always rhyme
my someone knows my innermost desires
through time, through void and through the in-between
he travels with me, daydreams them with me

we missed each other in this manifest
imposters tempt and try my very soul
but I will wait until this sojourn ends
see out this mission here now on my own

Tough & Hard Enough! (Mindful Memorable) #7

Submitted by Rula on Thu, 2012-09-27 03:17

 If in written words
 I wanted to tell
how much I owe you
I'd need some more forests
with more trees 

I'd need more tears to flood
(the ink of the eyne)
to evince my real gratitude
for a heart I thought is mine.

Hence I'll quit the clichéd words
and quietly decline
leaving a blank piece of paper
with a naked simple sign
                                                   

                            Rula.Y.H.

Workshop: 
Mindful Memorable Freeform: The Challenge

KDT2

Submitted by BlueDemon77 on Thu, 2012-09-27 01:34

KDT 2

Goodbye my love
our times have come and gone
we passed through a luxuriant hallway
filled with obstacles and end tables
wall mounted swords on mahogany and velvet
as red as the candles we've burned
as red as the blood from my finger
as you drew it across your lips
The color seemed to suit you

Workshop: 
Mindful Memorable Freeform: The Challenge

Winter Dusk

Submitted by captjack on Wed, 2012-09-26 19:58

At the close of winter days,
On which the sun has paid an unexpected call,
The orange red sunset painted on the aqua sky,
Is soon mixed into a muddy gray.
All appears suspended in motionless anticipation,
Waiting for day and night to decide whose turn it is to stay.
In those several seconds,
Just before night tucks in the day,
Beneath a polka-dotted blanket,
The child's mind is drawn to all the events just past.
Within this recollection then is made the silent wish,

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