MM's Represented Poems for 2010, Best of luck! Options

[Cleo_Serapis]

We decided to SKIP over January all...


FEBRUARY SELECTIONS:


A Luring Legacy by Daniah Jamil Lababidi


I searched the depths of my convictions,
walked past rosy petals of perfection,
then faltered as unexpected weeds sprang forth
from this earth; my heart.

At garden's edge, I parted the canopy.
Discovering forbidden land,
I inhaled its lustful scents
then succumbed
to a well of wakened desires.

My only succession
lies in the lingering odor
of untilled soil and arid years,
tainting this decaying garden
... my life.



Winter by Daniel Culleton


On this settled grove, these rows of trees,
The light bright of the morning shows
To each here present now unquestionably
The fellow presence of each shuddering bough.

On this settled evening too,
Winter devises cruel clarity of sight.
False Spring this week had, demonic, doomed,
Scattered stark children among the starlings.

Shadow of child and bird soared
Until night froze them in a dream.
Always the year returns us without fail
To this ancient darkness and this cold:

Bare branches across a black sky,
Each branch hung with distant stars.

[Cleo_Serapis]

NOVEMBER SELECTIONS:


Dance of the Crinkled Veils by Eira Needham


Beneath a screen of stratus shade
she changes into citrus hues
as breezes fan and serenade
her; ballet pointes battements tendus.

Her rustling tutu riffles, swirls
chartreuse with russet layered hems;
soft flurries tousle chestnut curls
adorned with crimson clustered gems.

She sheds her veils in lento time
-- pianissimo they pirouette;
her vibrant beauty, still sublime,
enshrouds terrains a la georgette

Diminuendo: standing bare
she silhouettes the dreary skies.
Soon frost will crown bedraggled hair,
his spangled shawl around her thighs.

With lofty body proudly posed
her feet secured against each storm,
she wavers endless arms, exposed
‘til emerald ruffles dress her form.



Aging in Thought by Karen Kelsay


When cataracts form clouds across my eyes
like fog that settles on the coastal skies;
where creaky knees require a wooden cane
to navigate my walk across the lane,

please help me not relinquish vanity
to illnesses or pain. Just swaddle me
in classic silk pajamas, sleek and black,
with little velvet shoes—no flannel sack

to drape around my bones, or pink housecoat
with fuzzy slippers skimming like a boat
across the kitchen floor. A single chain
of gold, Ann Taylor slacks. Let me abstain

from wearing Mumus, curlers in the hair,
of anything that may alarm or scare
the neighbors. Pictures not lamentable,
just well preserved and deemed presentable.

This post has been edited by Cleo_Serapis: Oct 31 10, 18:15

Reason for edit: Revision update