%%USERNAME%%    %%ACCWORDS%% %%ONOFF%% |
 GI100 Book #2...random attempts at poetry. |
|
A second attempt at "Give It 100!"  , since the first one ("100" ) turned out pretty well even though I didn't complete it within 100 days.  ![Merit Badge in Mythology
[Click For More Info]
*^*Salute*^**^*Balloonb*^* YAY!!Congratulations on your fabulous challenge of writing 100 poems is less than your 100 days!! An amazing feat so you deserve a trip to Mount Olympus for a treat! You can walk in the hall of champions. *^*Trophyg*^* Wonderful expressions! Keep on shining. *^*Starstruck*^*](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/genre-Mythology-1105.gif) These are just rough sketches and ideas that are barely a little more rounded-out...they're not perfect but they're gonna be good enough to share here at least. Your comments, support, and words of encouragement will be greatly appreciated!  Best Poetry Collection |
7-28-17 You're a machete when the day breaks gargled ice and you don't know any better to be calm. There's a sense of what you can sense and it's mistaken for confidence by your soldiers, your allies and patent defenders...but you charm malfeasance transcendentally. Optimism walking over a black cloud. Snatching defeat from the living ends of practiced headaches. The red- headed prep child who answers but to no one. Particular grace. The sharpened blade. By lunch you're complete and starving for more...blood or irony. Maybe both. I saw you on the news, so I know you can do tremendous but you won't have to. You're a machete; a patient saint and a voracious go-getter, gotten. The camel's hump. The whale's blowhole. The all-in- one window, frame and shade. Take me out to dinner, and I'll buy dessert...a nitecap. A quiet place. A slow death. Precise. Tight. You don't say. |
8-3-17 Everything is draped in an aura of beauty and mystery. Each dress. Each sigh. Each eyebrow. You want to, but you can't. You need to, but you shouldn't. The catacombs within the creases fold over, exponentially. The complexities...are national secrets. An underworking fit to undermine science so rich it can only come across in the softest pastels willing to lure you to lie and to cheat and to mischaracterize your own image to death. She doesn't forgive. She doesn't need to. You know what you did, and why. Her casually questionable contributions are now only yours. |
8-3-17 There are bug-like blood stains on everything. Someone's been here before making some regrets. Mistakes were clear. I catch a warm wind and inhale the sand of another's bones and I catch myself. No one should've known, I can hope. My periphery sees things I don't as I spin my head to acknowledge; a sun that's not a neighbor and an ally unable of trust. You're unspeakable but I can hear you. Your trail was ending at my feet. A breath and a curse. A cloudless rain. Unseen at the destination, I don't have the option of a smarter retreat. I must face this. I have to draw a margin and stay within as the details begin to emerge. There's a responsibility and I should understand its outline but the murkiness is blinding. It's all I have left. And I know you were around. Even the most desolate places bear the autumn of your presence. Do better, it says. Give yourself a chance to take another breath. Do better, it says. Give yourself a chance to see whatever's left and make an existence outside this silhouette. Do better, it says. |
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
Puzzle Hub
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
Probably not...how I write them and how they sound in my head is dramatically different than how they sound coming out of my mouth 
.
Thank you, Mona!
