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February 2018


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Larry @ 02-12-18 15:14
Read: 30   Comments: 0
Larry @ 02-6-18 15:14
Read: 60   Comments: 5
RC James @ 01-31-18 15:34
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RC James @ 01-29-18 14:41
Read: 58   Comments: 2

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Posted by Larry - 02-12-18 15:14 - 0 comments

Each day I stare into the face of Death
through memories I hardly wish to share
of friend and foe exhaling their last breath
into the face of Death. Each day I stare

at places from the past where I survive
while others filled pine boxes far too fast.
It’s luck or fate that’s given me the drive
where I survive. At places from the past

old scars remain beneath a calm façade
and you may search but it would be in vain
for they are now well hidden by my God
beneath a calm façade. Old scars remain

ensconced within my mind. Though I am blind…
though I am blind, ensconced within my mind.
Read 30 times - make a comment   

Knighthood ABC’s - extended sonnet
Posted by Larry - 02-6-18 15:14 - 5 comments
Knighthood ABC’s

Attempting to
become the king’s
crusader who
defends all things;
exacting pain
for those that might
gather to gain
his throne will fight
in town and field.
Jousting or blade
keeps those who yield
life’s blood in glade
midst heather’s blooms,
no quarter set
or path to tombs’
position get
quiescent rest.
Respect the crown,
sovereign is blessed
to rule this town
until I fall.
Valor or pain
with those who call
Xanadu’s reign
your kingdom’s rule.
Zealot or fool?
Read 60 times - last comment by Rhymer   

Romeo/Juliet - Redux I&II (esp. for D&L)
Posted by RC James - 01-31-18 15:34 - 0 comments

Their families at war with each other,
rabid dogs at the heels of a stranger,
one angry son to a feuding brother.
In their own measure, away from danger,
they intertwined hands, welcoming desire,
and gifted each other unwonted bliss.
As the clans’ rivalry spun in a gyre,
the two became aware of their abyss,
a deceptive potion would remedy
the dark mire, albeit a desperate cure.
Deadly, morbid, ill-advised, the recipe
effected a demise of hearts still pure.

In full wedding night posture, unavowed,
forever’s dusky form served as their shroud.


Poppin’ off at each other, kinfolk were,
nasty coon-hounds worryin’ a preacher,
young frisky whelp to a nasty neighbor.
Hid away from peepin’ nosy stalkers,
they clutched each other tight and long,
gave each other a tasty dose of neon blue.
Families pissed as tom's in a gay cat bar,
the pair jumped up to their situation,
blotter acid mixed with pure thorazine
might prove the cure to their dilemma.
Too far-out, spacy, the cocktail, spookily
turned both their lights to endless black,

dressed for the hook-up, down for night,
laid-out, ebony eternity draped them tight.
Read 43 times - make a comment   

Can I Help You Up?
Posted by RC James - 01-29-18 14:41 - 2 comments
Flea market booths,
a quickened,
one-day settlement
in Albuquerque
winter sun.
Talking politics,
why I’d moved back
to my birth country,
to fight
dimwit don.

Current partner
in the fight
"back in the 50’s
in the army,
black guys,
it wasn’t so good,
but gradual now,
getting better."
Moving in,
soft confidence,
I told him,
a Navajo craftsman,
"there’s a rainbow
inside me,
red, white, black,
brown, yellow,
no blue though,
that’s outside me,
up there, big,
what all those colors
inside reach for."

Under that same blue,
later, on my route,
innocence raced
pell mell.
Two tiny latina
long whirling,
swirling, black hair.
They raced
in parking lot dirt,
alongside Tony’s
Taco truck,
quitting for the day.
Big sister leading,
younger sister trailing,
both happy,
squealing meteors.

Me, sciatica-struck,
with new wood cane,
making jokes
with other
cane-wielding citizens:
"You one of the three
Legged people too?"

After embarrassing fall,
teetering over
into a vendor’s display,
where I had chosen
an Indian bag,
flute player design,
for sister-in-law.
I turned to go back,
a small Indian girl
in my path,
moved just a fraction
to miss her
and lost balance,
thud, crumple
into middle of display,
hearing glass shattering
as I landed.

The curious gathered,
I rolled to the side,
for whatever I broke,
I’ll pay for that,
I heard glass break.
handed me
the hardwood cane,
I, weaker
than I could accept,
inched up in some pain,
you alright?
choiring at me.
A teenage Latina
gave me a water bottle,
back to infancy,
on the kindness
of strangers.

Dizzy head spinning,
gathered up
found the street
for home.
A straight
as a Navajo arrow
vapor trail
shot over me,
headed down
to the targeted
far horizon.
I craned my neck
to the limits of pain,
trying to capture
the white puff streak’s
not able to see,
not able to,
not able.

All those colors
outside me now,
like separate,
endless skies,
all with their hands
towards me,
helping me up,
and up,
and up.
Read 58 times - last comment by RC James   

Train Journey
Posted by Arnfinn - 01-22-18 04:36 - 5 comments
Train Journey

No excitement—
slow rotation…
wheels slip brake shoes,
dynamic motors grumble— pulse;
carriages exhale in a rush of grit and dust.
Un-tethered the silvered eel dissolves into the
black-circle of enchantment— screaming with fright.

Within the train
Sway— rattle— bounce.
We sit Rae and me, knees barely
apart— our thoughts blended silence.

Arnfinn © 2018

Read 125 times - last comment by JustDaniel   

self-reflective senryu series
Posted by JustDaniel - 01-21-18 13:24 - 4 comments
self-reflective senryu series

What does my life show?
Is Truth I'm set apart to

My Home is elsewhere;
does that show in what I do
and things I cling to?

Do my actions speak?
show that God, who surrounds me,
is completely Good?

Do I manifest
God's providential greatness?
My trust in Him clear?

Can my fear of Him
be seen in the ways I act?
His Word outweighs mine.

Is God's Grace to me
obvious in life's courtroom?
My striving falls short.

© MLeeDickens'son 2018
during sermon challenge
Read 117 times - last comment by Arnfinn   

Posted by Larry - 01-15-18 23:56 - 4 comments

As Winter bares her crystal claws,
which hang like daggers from the eaves,
I dress in layered wool because
I know her chilling breath deceives
with promises. Her silvered cowl
envelopes all the world around
my neighborhood. Cold winds may howl
but they are just an empty sound
made by a season on the verge
of death. New buds appear on trees
and soon they will begin to purge
that pallid face. Spring will appease
with all the colors God has made
and heal our eyes with crowns of jade.
Read 113 times - last comment by Arnfinn   

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