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| Topic: Ramblings | |
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(((((((((((((((((Red)))))))))))))))))))
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out of hapinstance, I stumbled upon your tributaries
these flowing word ripples through the spaces ingestions of a moment's depth a frowning smile melds with that smiling frown undecided still, unstill decided to let it be known the things that been shown, rock, smoke, slide into home. I'll be check'n back and thanks for the journey's through your words. 
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In our old shipwrecked days there was an hour, When in the firelight steadily aglow, Joined slackly, we beheld the red chasm grow Among the clicking coals. Our library-bower That eve was lef to us: and hushed we sat As lovers to whom Time is whispering, From sudden-opened doors we heard them sing: The nodding elders mixed good wine with chat. Well knew we the Life's greatest treasure lay With us, and of it was our talk. "Ah, yes! Love dies!" I said: I never thought it less. She yearned to me that sentence to unsay. Then when the fire domed blackening, I found Her cheek was against my kiss, and swift Up the sharp scale of sobs her breast did lift:- Now I am haunted by that taste!that sound! - Dante Gabriel Rossetti This poem is actually by George Meredith. |
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Your voice a gentle calm, every write a quiet eloquence. The clarity of vision you express leaves one to think between the lines. An old soul, a young girl, a longing for what is, what isn't and an ever present thought of what could be. I loved all your work.
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I just wanted to say that your words are spellbinding Red. You are a delightful soul and I'm thinking wiser beyond your years
 . I'm on page three of this thread and I look forward to tomorrow. You have a calmness that I have not seen but of a very few people in my lifetime. You are truly divine! God Bless. |
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Edited by
LAMom
on
Fri 01/28/11 05:08 AM
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It was just yesterday, fresh as waking, you were dripping on my mind, leaning on a sliver of sunlight slicing my every thought into two; My senses, denuded, divided between keeping a book waiting, and waiting some more. You have this way of ending our dialogues, or suspending it, like you often have, with a flashing of teeth, a splatter of rainbows, and a throaty laugh into my last breathless note. If I inhaled again, and I must have, I knew, in some sick way, I would have a chance at ending a conversation, on my own terms. But, unmanned, then and now; having you, and then losing you, and waiting too very damn long, or insisting on control a tad too strong, or jumping in too fast – I never could tell. If I forego breathing now, and close my eyes from seeing rainbows again, for a minute, or two, I might yet realize a greater pain. But I’m human enough for air, for another hope at another exchange, down the road, where the perhaps always lurks, when winning and losing don’t mean as much as watching you light life into me again, simply by being. Your light shines once more, the void has passed and the heart sways to and fro... let the sun warm you and all shall be dear one.. all shall be.. soar sweet angel... soar 
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(((((((((((((((((Red))))))))))))))))))) ((((((((((((((((((Torgo)))))))))))))))))  |
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out of hapinstance, I stumbled upon your tributaries these flowing word ripples through the spaces ingestions of a moment's depth a frowning smile melds with that smiling frown undecided still, unstill decided to let it be known the things that been shown, rock, smoke, slide into home. I'll be check'n back and thanks for the journey's through your words. Thank you for stopping by, for taking the time to read. :) |
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Your voice a gentle calm, every write a quiet eloquence. The clarity of vision you express leaves one to think between the lines. An old soul, a young girl, a longing for what is, what isn't and an ever present thought of what could be. I loved all your work. Oh my...I sincerely am left speechless. Thank you. Just when I thought nobody sees what has always been written in all those implied spaces, people like you come by. :) |
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It was just yesterday, fresh as waking, you were dripping on my mind, leaning on a sliver of sunlight slicing my every thought into two; My senses, denuded, divided between keeping a book waiting, and waiting some more. You have this way of ending our dialogues, or suspending it, like you often have, with a flashing of teeth, a splatter of rainbows, and a throaty laugh into my last breathless note. If I inhaled again, and I must have, I knew, in some sick way, I would have a chance at ending a conversation, on my own terms. But, unmanned, then and now; having you, and then losing you, and waiting too very damn long, or insisting on control a tad too strong, or jumping in too fast – I never could tell. If I forego breathing now, and close my eyes from seeing rainbows again, for a minute, or two, I might yet realize a greater pain. But I’m human enough for air, for another hope at another exchange, down the road, where the perhaps always lurks, when winning and losing don’t mean as much as watching you light life into me again, simply by being. Your light shines once more, the void has passed and the heart sways to and fro... let the sun warm you and all shall be dear one.. all shall be.. soar sweet angel... soar LAMom, as always, you make me smile by your mere presence. :) |
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Edited by
red_lace
on
Sat 01/29/11 07:48 AM
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For Matt. When we talked about Nibiru. :)
We are leaves in the full bloom of summer, destined for autumn glory; surreal in discourse, we dance to wind and half-remembered patterns of spring-time and dreams, and first kisses. We have learned to speak truth with the grey, seen the lie in black, discerned deceit in the white. We know life as it unfolds for us, for others, and we know ourselves unwhole, except in the company of strangers equally irresolute. What I know of leaves I know in the grip of winter-chill, when, brown and sere, they sleep crushed in snow. Mortal, I know, they are; marked for death as we, doomed so as early as the first breath of spring. But knowing that; I do not begrudge those times when mortal coil first wakened me to wanting infinity; everytime a robin sang, everytime I could walk, with an open mouth, tiptoeing between raindrops. The grey has never danced well for me, or I have never danced for it; I do not know the difference. All I know, now, between your poetry and mine, is a longing to sit beside you, in some place without questions. There is such a place, my hopes tell me; so long as I can find you, perhaps, after summer and before autumn. Definitely, before winter; when the dance between wind and leaf and rain becomes death. We are summer’s leaves doomed to fall. But before then: there is moonlight on water, glitter-motes dancing through sunbeams; the taste of dewdrops, as they dripped, blazing new trails down our cheeks; the joy of the summer-wind before its winter face; the delicious tartness of the before before it becomes after. Bitter-sweet, like life, before it dies. |
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Edited by
Torgo70
on
Sat 01/29/11 08:21 AM
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(((((((((((((((((((((((((RED)))))))))))))))))))))))))
The shelter I'm digging for its impending arrival has room for two. 
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Heart that breaks
Like thin ice, Love's mistake Emotion's vice |
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(((((((((((((((((((((((((RED))))))))))))))))))))))))) The shelter I'm digging for its impending arrival has room for two. (((((((((((((((((((((((((TORGO)))))))))))))))))))))))))) It's a date then. 
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Heart that breaks Like thin ice, Love's mistake Emotion's vice Heartsfire, there is truth in that. Thank you for sharing and welcome. :) |
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Let every voice, have it's freedom's choice.
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Love,
is the power. that shall always, tower.. |
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Never say goodbye,
say,until then. For we never know, when our life may end. |
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thank you red_lace your poems are very deep
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Edited by
red_lace
on
Tue 02/01/11 11:52 PM
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