Poetry

knots

three word wednesday: dare, essence, practical
photo: quiet, ms lume, flicr

quiet...

the subtle essence of C
placed perfectly in the middle
anchors my soul to the sound of a serenade
the tips of my fingers placed so light
soothes the trembling
hardly no one sees

the dare of a challenge
ponders between the days and nights
noting nothing is as practical as an hour practicing
essential to the soul the mind moves
the fingers play and sound
shifts the candle light

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short story, we write poems

opus

we write poems: conversation between two. any sort of two
photo:opera, sanako, flickr

Opera

arrange the setting.
two people.
it’s around early, middle evening.
opera in paris. a wonderful opera.

sharing the evening of passion and pain dressed up lovely. seated in their own, secret thoughts screaming. they do not touch or move. later when the second scene seamlessly pours over, each one emerges in flight, swimming in synesthesia. hinting of a crest the scene burns so brightly. remembering to breathe, air brings back their world. seated separately they never knew what they shared in silent conversation.

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cinquain, haiku my heart, OneSingleImpression, Poetry

spark and stare

rebecca’s friday recuerda mi corazon [haiku my heart]
one single impression sunday prompt no 149: calmed
photo: i was distracted…., penwren, flickr

I was distracted by an agapanthus

1. spark
humble
love evolves strong
spoken in creamy calm
near the edge of each expression
canto*

2. stare
alone
unexpected
pacified pantomime
mimic the others who perceive
christmas

*A canto is a division of narrative poem, usually epic in nature, that is traditionally lyrical. … Unlike short poems, a canto poem is long form and contains a story. … i see this short poem as part of canto in that there is a much bigger story behind this love that could possibly be expressed in a canto

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Big Tent Poetry, CafeWriting, short story, the bistro

voodoo child

big tent poetry monday prompt this week offers a wordle of wonder
cafe writing – the bistro, do you believe in magic, option 2 poetry

hung around his neckĀ  a tinkling sound of seashells and the roar of tsunami splashed wet at his feet. his cupped hands dripping with honey, the bees stayed too. come he motions, his words prancing in a chorus line of thundering hoofs, i’ll not wait forever. shoeless she wanders awake in a world of alice. his cheshire smile remains sincere while her thirst resurfaced in the ash pit of frozen fire longing for heat. who could tell the connection he held with gentleness as he roped her in.

listening to some great music, jimi hendrix always always brings it on….

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