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    Enigma You

    ENIGMA YOU Beachcombing for shells, Daydreaming, I found myself Exploring the Atlantic floor Near the Pillars of Hercules And North African shores. The scent of blue/green algae Carried me very gently To the mysterious Sunken City, where Blue Whales come to play And create new songs That takes millennia to...

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    4 Comments
    • Words have weight and motion and I love how this moves a person to feel the words.

      • Thank you muchly for your comment, Fia. I appreciate how you see this poem, how it affected you. Exactly, how it made you ‘feel’.

    • What a great story. I especially loved when you wrote about words flying off the book.
      So vivid! Words wanting freedom. What a great way to bring them to life.

      • Adelphina, I love your comment, thank you. I think words do want their freedom and we poets simply pluck them from wherever they are and arrange them on a page. It was strange, actually, when I captured the word Enigma, Indigo appeared in my mind, like magic.

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    Cynicism

    Cynicism   Urban(e) smells suffocate our human(e)-ness struggling to remember forests, but still sparing with ghosts. We use to howl and rage, even dance at the Moon - cursing its phases and orangeness. Now we only nod, that American heroin nod as it influences our moods; rationalizing our ability to kill everyone, everything different...

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    • A haunting reflection on lost humanity. Our instinct to howl and dance muted by indifference, while cruelty parades as normal. The “strange fruit” lingers, reminding us of what we’ve forsaken and what it means to truly see and feel again.

      • Thank you RomaJ, I truly appreciate your take on this poem. “Strange Fruit”, a sung by Billie Holiday, is a song about the lynching of Black men during the whole period of “Jim Crow” America (1877-1964). These “lynchings” continue today, not done by KKK, but police terror. In the song, Billie H. talks about “bulging eyes” and “black bodies swinging”. I used birds as a metaphor for this horror.

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    Between Sunset and Ember

    If lovemaking had a color,it would be the shade between sunset and ember--and you are that living hue.The air around you ignites,as if the last of daylight lingers reluctantly.Your skin collects the sun’s final sigh,rising into me like a...

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    • A piece of good write. Excellent!

      • Adagio, Thank you so much! I’m glad the imagery and mood resonated with you. Your kind words mean a lot.

    • WOW, what wonderfully sensual poetry, RomaJ. I love it, and must confess, a bit jealous, as I wish I had written some of these lines. “You move as light bends through smoke…”; “There is cedar in your scent,”; and “Your voice is dusk made audible–”. I am glad I found this poem today, it helped brighten my mood, thank you.

      -Curt

    • Hi Curt, it’s been awhile! How are you? I have a confession, I felt a bit shy to post this poem and even thought about throwing it away, haha. I’m so glad you found it and that it brightened your day. Your kind words mean a lot, and I really appreciate you sharing how the imagery resonated with you!

    • Beautiful work. Great imagery.

      • Thank you so much, Thomas! I really appreciate your kind words. I’m glad the imagery resonated with you.

        -RomaJ

    • I’m so glad you decided to post this and not throw it away
      This has color, sensuality, and your voice.
      The ending was perfect amiga.
      One of my favorite reads on here:)

      • Thank you so much, Adelphina! I’m really glad you enjoyed it. I have to admit, I was a little shy about posting this one, but your kind words make me so happy I did. I truly appreciate you reading and sharing your thoughts — it means a lot!

        –RomaJ

    • Beautifully penned, Roma. Sensual and seductive wordplay combined with warm vibrant imagery, excellent write my friend. Appreciate you.

      Damian

      • Thank you so much, Damian! I really appreciate your kind words. I’m glad the warmth and imagery resonated with you–your encouragement means a lot.

    • Such a soft creche for sensuality. Gentle as an Autumn sunset caressing the shoulders of the harbour. Lovely scribble.

      • Thank you, Ghosteen! I adore your words … “soft creche for sensuality” perfectly captures the warmth and quiet intimacy I was hoping for. I’m glad the poem could linger like an autumn sunset over the harbour in your imagination.

        –Roma

    • This takes the love poem to the higher level of sublimity. This poem is so artfully crafted I could feel your words like the warmth from a fireplace whose embers glow in the night. There is magic here abounding, the kind that only happens when love is gently spiritual in a way that takes it beyond the physical and into the realm of something deeper.

      John

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