magpie tales, Poetry

magpie tales.faulkner flies

finding faulkner once more
serpentine tussle
tugging and alluring
how heavenly sinister
and uncertain

something so cloaked
and contained
characters climbing
falling flat fumble

black and white
living dying death
love at last
a jump out a window
forever planted

snake charmer decoder
long mysterious tails
one to another
distant dark collusion

i can’t put the book down light in august
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magpie tales 102 photo: Wassily Kandinsky Red Spot II 1921

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Big Tent Poetry, gong poetry, Poetry

day 7. merge

big tent poetry, 7 day gong poetry. new to you. day 7. today, i pick encounter by czeslaw milosz.. the first line is from his poem

The flash of a hand, streak of movement, rustle of pebbles

foreign in familiarity, soothing in style, a tinge of excitement trespass

relic shadows embody their will, a noetic wind blows, the backwards breeze bellows

perceptible walk away, hidden in the hills, the rising moon scratches the sealed sky,

bright their breathless appearance, glittering stars above, ignite the quiet stutterings

rising from below

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Big Tent Poetry, gong poetry, Poetry

day 6. on time

big tent poetry gong poetry day 6 new to you. today i pick anais nin… because it is such a small poem i thought i would bring it on over… see below in italics

risk. and then the day came,
when the risk
to remain tight
in a bud
was more painful
than the risk
it took
to blossom.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

and then the day came
releasing the rope
untied and free

there was another
more beautiful
sweeping the winter
away

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Big Tent Poetry, gong poetry

day 4. covered

big tent poetry gong poetry day 4 new to you. today i picked toni morrison, unlike any other. a beautiful author in all sorts of ways… for me it all started when i read her book beloved… new to me, her latest entitled jazz. a small excerpt and a line that sorta just stuck out…

“breathing and murmuring under covers both of them have washed and hung out on the line, in a bed they chose together and kept together never mind one leg was propped on a 1916 dictionary, and the mattress, curved like a preacher’s palm asking for witnesses in His name’s sake, enclosed them each and every night and muffled their whispering, old-time love” , dip poetry lounge

a lovely place survives
where two can go to be
a simple sharing sigh

they tell no one
never make plans
their desire uncovered

not a bother
smooth as soft
a sweet knowing familiar

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