I have the fire in me this morning to write a little poetry. I finished reading the books of poetry last night and did a few exercises. Now it is in me. There is often no way to know where it will take you. With instruction book, the only way of knowing the quality of the instruction books is the results they give you.
I have a poetry open microphone to do on Thursday, and I would rather read some of my own poetry than be a professor and read from a book. I think if I read some of my own work even if it is uneven, it will make the program go better. These are being worked on.
This first poem is about a bar that scared me enough to never go there again.
Red Room
Red light plays in a red room
Cocktail dresses with warm bodies
Red lights with red wallpapers
Smiling faces with plump lips
Red light screams sex darkness
Hollow eyes with red red rims
Red light carries me upstairs
Where a bed awaits empty soft
Red light warns me why are you here?
I wait lost, hollow, full of sex
Blood, sex, death heart of red
The red light pierces my heart
As I wait for a lady or a man in red.
Boatman (It just came to me)
The pen rolls across the paper
like waves in a deep blue sea
The ink rolls out of the pen
like water in a smooth river
I can feel the pens grip heft
Solid comforting like a boat
I am the boatman of words
The steerer of the word ship
The holder of this fine pen
Lost Mists (A Little Dream)
Forgotten mists roll through the hills
Crying who am I? Who am I?
They are the lost forever wandering
They cry where am I? Where am I?
Is this a a waking dream like you and I
A Clerihew of T.H. White
T.H. White
Was always right
He'd always write
From left to right
Deli (I am still working on this).
I order an egg sandwich
I pick some fresh berries
I pour myself fresh coffee
I drink water from s stream
I stand behind a tall rack
The tall trees surround me
I get milk from the freezer
A stream fills my waterskin
The paperbag has my breakfast
My satchel and waterskin are full
I head home
Green
Green is the ocean
Green is the sea
Green is the grass
I ride on a bullet train
From New York to San Francisco
Green are the fields
Green are the trees
Green are the moss
Fields of switchgrass roll by
Stacks of algae oil refineries
Green is the earth
Green is the frog
Green is the snake
Cities are in bright bloom
With flowers and brown trees
Green was the desert
Green was the dump
Green was the sand
Every community has a park
Every community has gardens
Green grows the pepper
Green grows the grape
Green grows the apple
I watch the clear rivers flow
Clear, pure, clean, sweet water
Green is my thumb
Green is my mind
Green is my spirit
There are no huge landfills
There are no massive dumps
Green is a color
Green is a feeling
Green is a thought
Windmills spin like flowers
Solar towers shine brightly
I wear bright green
I touch green plants
I smell green earth
Biodiesel and electric trucks
Roll by on smooth highways
I ride green transport
I buy green products
I invest in green stocks
Tree farms grow fresh timber
Greenhouses dot the land
I can hear green
I can see green
I can feel green
The train moves by the ocean
Wave farms float quietly by
Green is not plastic
Green is not pollution
Green is not refuse
The skyscraper farms of San Francisco
Are in the distance, tall vertical
The city is quiet, peaceful, clean
America reindustrialized clean and green
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This morning my machine was a little slow. I had to use a little program called
Spybot, Search & Destroy. This program cleans out spyware, tracking programs hijacking, keyboard hacking, malware, cookies, and trojans from your machine. It is very easy to get this stuff when you are searching through blogs a lot. These are not viruses but tracking program from companies like doubleclick, 24/7 Media, and other companies that want to sell things to you. I had over 194 such programs on my computer. I also cleaned my internet files, history, and cache to make my machine run better. Then I ran the defragmenter for extra measure. You need to do this even if you have a good firewall once in a while.
Right now, I am reading When The Tide Rises by David Drake. The main character, Lieutenant Leary is loosely based on the life of Lord Cochrane, a historical ship commander who served the revolutionary government of Brazil and Chile. The genesis of the Lieutenant Leary series is based on Patrick O'Brian's Aubrey Maturin series of historical novels. The difference is that this is military science fiction with flourishes of space opera. It is quite enjoyable. I am glad that David Drake included an acknowledgement.
3 comments:
I like the poem about the mists. It makes me picture them in my head - very good imagery. Good luck with the poetry. I used to write poems and haven't in a long time.
I like writing poetry. But, I have to be in the mood for it.
Very nice poem it is very spring like with a little whispers of the wind... I like the lightness to the words... Great stuff...
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