-
![Profile picture of redzone]()
redzone posted in the group National Poetry Month
Love Sonnet LXXIX
As I glide smoothly across
the ice, as the cold air assails
my face, I feel like I am
flying. Your faceappears under the ice, staring
up at me. You are smiling,
your hands, upturned, reach
toward me, inviting me tojoin you in the cold, wet
waters of this dream. I
fly faster, skates movinglike a blur,…Read More
5 Comments-
-
![Profile picture of redzone]()
Thanks HJx, for the sweet comment and for the the Kate Bush mention. I will definitely go listen. I actually do like the few songs I have heard from her. As well as her duet with Peter Gabriel on “Don’t Give Up”.
-
![Profile picture of Harriet-Jacqui xx]()
You’re welcome – enjoy Kate! “Waking the Witch” from the same album inspired me to write Heathen, the opening tale in Basque Love Stories. It’s here on Starsrite, too, live, featuring sensational young actress Isla Furl as Julia. Enjoy!
-
-
-
![Profile picture of Curly Grace]()
Such a vivid, haunting piece. I love how it moves from ice to fire with such ease. Beautifully done.
-
![Profile picture of redzone]()
Thanks Curly Grace. Your comment is appreciated, as are you and your poetry.
-
-
-
![Profile picture of Willow]()
Willow posted in the group National Poetry Month
Sensory Memories
“why are you so addicted to popcorn?”
because on Saturday evenings…
when I was small…
(too young to know of more exciting things…
like theaters and urban adventures)
there was a table that became an arenawhere board games and Uno took over
and we gathered as a family…
no chores…
otherwise idle…Read More4 Comments-
![Profile picture of Harriet-Jacqui xx]()
Aw, I can smell the corn popping from here – a really atmospheric poem.
-
![Profile picture of Willow]()
Thank you 😊 I make popcorn every week, never recapture those moments but it brings back the memories
-
-
![Profile picture of redzone]()
Willow, I make the popcorn the same way your grandmother did, 3 quart pot, melt the butter and mix. But I must confess, the popcorn goes in a big bowl and I eat it all from there. Thanks for sharing the popcorn….er… I mean the poem. ;0) -Curt
-
![Profile picture of Willow]()
There were a minimum of a dozen of us at that table. There would have been no room for a big bowl. I’ve never seen a bowl the size she used for the popcorn since then. I use an air popper but yes, it goes in a bowl and it’s all mine too. 😊
-
-
-
![Profile picture of Fia Naturie]()
Fia Naturie posted in the group National Poetry Month
Conditioned
Back aches
Feet throbs
Vision strain
Headache driving one insaneWe came up with the saying “the tough get it done”
I’m done…
We as a society, on the whole
Are charcoaled steak
Extra well, with no tenderness in sight4 Comments-
![Profile picture of redzone]()
It does feel that way, done, charcoaled. But after last Saturday, I saw hope for many reasons beyond the numbers. But it will take more than a one and done approach. It will take sustained resistance, nonviolent activity, a refusal to obey the flames of abuse, and in our millions to stop the “grilling”.
-
![Profile picture of Fia Naturie]()
I agree with you. Thank you
-
-
![Profile picture of Harriet-Jacqui xx]()
Your poem rings so true, Fia,. Let’s hope that, one day, Society rediscovers tenderness, love, and caring about each other rather than all the squalid hatred, the foul judgement that has no place.
-
![Profile picture of Fia Naturie]()
I hope so…Thank you Hj
-
-
-
![Profile picture of Harriet-Jacqui xx]()
Harriet-Jacqui xx posted in the group National Poetry Month
Fireflies Over the Somme
She led me to a lonely forest glade, where fireflies flew and faeries might have played,
The brooding sky was blood red, pure delight, the half-light glowed as dusk turned into night,
We lay among white lilies in the mist, she winked and beat her wings before she kissed,
Then whispered sweetest nothings in my ear, the…Read More![]()
1 Comment-
![Profile picture of Harriet-Jacqui xx]()
Thank you for liking my WW1 poem! HJx
-
-
![Profile picture of PAR (Paulo Acácio Ramos)]()
PAR (Paulo Acácio Ramos) posted in the group National Poetry Month
April 4th, the Compass Forgets Its Duty
The 4th takes my north,
reduces my compass
to a mere spasm of air
shivering through the half‑open window
on the left side of the house.It doesn’t steal direction violently.
No, April 4th is far too elegant for that.
It simply rearranges the wind,
tilts the light,
and suddenly every cer…Read More![Profile Photo]()
![Profile Photo]()
![Profile Photo]()
liked this
- Load More Posts
I love the chill of this poem – if you’re not a fan of Kate Bush do listen to Under Ice on The Hounds of Love album!