Electron's Mate and Cherokee
Electron's Mate
Tides gripping feet
in Istanbul's pollution
dash meets night
long in sight, poison grew
cue
born of Jane
vinging pleasures
in Botticelli
never rubbing Buddha's belly
selling radio
fox hides and
jelly
grabbing angels
opulentus
If Clytemnestra knew?
Sucking corn of g m o's
stalking immigrants to go
protons sinking
painful stress
drowning toys in olive oil
setting sail in mystery
obliged in shores
of salvage old
piling mountains into ditch
smoking coal
gold
missing charms
alarms
and
sense
On this sea of cold
one wave
rues
in hell...cooked, too, well, boiled
roasted, foaming, lit
pipe so hot, caldron so mean, so cruel
within
skin may not hear or bear be told
bold adam
wears no clothes
Electrons mate in rising sun
as simple work is never done
pilings break and bend in tow
as if you didn't know
adam has no clothes
atom has no clothes.
...............
Cherokee
Cherokee purple
bell pepper
rescued from food lion's
clutches for five
dollars never missed
beyond budget
what the hell for a bell and a purple
Not enough sun
not enough oxygen tween the lungs and heart
push the metal to the floor
she stalls
no tune-up in sight
the plight of age endured being paid
Strong of stem, these two will grow
proved in time having courage of drought, pests and loneliness
if they have sun
Shy they are, never talking, courteous, green,
wanting what all want
fruit
water, peace and sun
until work is done
seeds formed for eternity
rolling eggs of destiny
untouched by blight
wilting stress
intruding weeds
and mites
They grow
sight unseen sharing delight, every right without constitution
breathing oxygen, giving back
great works of humility
treading upon no thing
possessing families galore greeting shores
vigintillion 000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000...
knowing more in pores
than spiders
Laptop in hand, here it sits
smiling gleefully
trading selfish wits
magenta heart pumping, still
colored
willing to run, if able...
writing fables, news no more
reaching down
beyond 'colonizers of dreams'
kissing the wind
of living of roots forgiving of
purple light before sunset
and bells ringing in Cherokee.
Comments
Electron's Mate...
a work-in-progress; thanks for indulging me this space to share and thanks in advance for reading.
My first poem, Electron's Mate got to me...
its darkness, truth, prompted relief; ergo, I wrote another poem in haste, Cherokee.
Cherokee is good.
First line of mine:
Waiting, tensed, in the starting gate
Hey! my dear friends or soon-to-be's, JtC could use the donations to keep this site functioning for those of us who can still see the life preserver or flotsam in the water.
Cheers, please carry on
after the gate...?
Work in progress.
I have about 20 plants, including Trees (!) that I want to snuggle in. Held at the gate by a broken foot until the end of April. Frustrating. Such plans, and then this. Promise it will be done by Derby Day.
Hey! my dear friends or soon-to-be's, JtC could use the donations to keep this site functioning for those of us who can still see the life preserver or flotsam in the water.
Spring comes slow up high and...
i need it. With the news, we all do. Thanks for being here.
Spring is my season, by birth and by love
and things here are greening up nicely, understory trees are leafing out, my large shadbush tree looks like it may bloom this year. Local dogwood is extinct here. It was everywhere 30 years ago, thus the name of my house.
Hey! my dear friends or soon-to-be's, JtC could use the donations to keep this site functioning for those of us who can still see the life preserver or flotsam in the water.
Soon, i must strap on the tank and hike up Grandfather...
taking the Storyteller's trail, crossing many rushing, Spring-time brooks, tree covered until the top, the rock, it's a ritual. Going to be a long journey, but, i must do this, somehow, one step at a time. I love the cool water, the mountain sustains me in ways i will never express, it just is; in the meantime, i'll let a master speak much in few words:
~ F. Scott Fitzgerald.
No true watercourse on my property but DOWN for water
no stream, except on my driveway. Being on a shale hillside, there are seep spots, many of which last through half the summer. But vernal pools. Now. Seeps turn into pools, breeding all sorts of aquatics. Animals and plants. Tree frogs may lay eggs there. I can discriminate tree frog voice from bird call. Rarely seen when in the trees.
Hey! my dear friends or soon-to-be's, JtC could use the donations to keep this site functioning for those of us who can still see the life preserver or flotsam in the water.
Thank you smiley and riverlover,
For a wonderful collaboration of poetic sentiments.
https://uk.pinterest.com/explore/dogwood-flowers/
oh...
extra-ordinary, wish i could paint the image.
reaching through this space to give you a hug for being, good. You lift us all!
...
Oh smiley,
If you only knew how perfect this Tom Waits song you offered is. Sometime I will elaborate, but for now simply thank you, through the tears.
The images you paint with your words and feelings are a treat.
Do you see dogwoods where you live? I don’t live where I see them anymore, but their visual memories will live with me forever. That’s good enough for me.
Thank you for sharing the lifting. It makes it all so much lighter.
Wrapping you back with a hug.
Something killed many of the dogwoods in the Piedmont of NC...
several years ago. They are scarce here up high in the Appalachians, around though, bleeding petals.
Each year when Spring first emerges, a trip to the low-country to the East Coast takes one's breath in blooming beauty, Dogwoods and Azaleas.
Maybe in all these years, I've experienced this explosion of Spring a few times, always promising to travel there next year.
Got to find those worn-out boot-straps and pull 'em again, as Spring brings hope, much to be thankful for, much to do.
It's the intention, and Spring
that bring hope. Nice, that you are experiencing both, and that one's imagination can fortify it.
All the best, always.
Made my evening, morning...
may i play one more before i sleep; an old favorite:
Make a wish
before you sleep!
Thank you for sweet dreams.
That looks like it would adapt to a Japanese brush painting
Lovely, Janis B!
Hey! my dear friends or soon-to-be's, JtC could use the donations to keep this site functioning for those of us who can still see the life preserver or flotsam in the water.
Just wow! Perhaps especially
Just wow! Perhaps especially Cherokee. Thanks for these, even if they hurt in the reading because so concisely and precisely expressed as to narrowly arrow home.
Psychopathy is not a political position, whether labeled 'conservatism', 'centrism' or 'left'.
A tin labeled 'coffee' may be a can of worms or pathology identified by a lack of empathy/willingness to harm others to achieve personal desires.
ah, many thanks for your kind words and
for being here.