Seeing that have we so many keen writers on our boards I thought we might start a poetry thread over here amongst the stories. Care to share? This one emerged in a round about way in response to Celt's thread on Stimulating Your Creativity.



My Provocateur

My
Provocateur's
A secret

A
Secret
Agent

So polite
Gentle
And precise

That my body reads
His provocations
As caresses

Clever, soft strokes
Of a single fingertip
Rendering me slick

Seducing
And reducing me
To a simple suspect

Inciting me
To illegal acts
And wicked misdemeanors

Provoke me
I sigh,
Harder

Rain,

Love it.

Unfortunately I write poetry like my husband dances, infrequent for a reason

Um... let me gather my confidences to me first and then I'll post some more of my poetry. In the meantime, there's two on the open for critique thread.

I'm also working on getting all of them on to my computer for backing up on to a CD. That way if I lose the hundreds of loose sheets that are continually floating around, I'll have SOME record of what I've done.

Okay, a short one then. Funny and dumb.
This is the first poem I ever have record of me writing. My mother sent it to me when she was cleaning out her filing cabinets. I'm going to scan it someday because it is so ridiculous. Copied verbatim.

To: Dad
A Poem To Read
A____Poem to Read Is fun
to Read it is Always
Fun to Read
(Please DoNT SMoke)
AND
The
EnD Of
My song-Poem
From: Angela

That just happened to be at the stack sitting on top of my printer right now. And it makes me smile every time. Yep. Definitely getting scanned in today.

~Ang

Thanks Silk. You must be like me with haiku, can't write one to save my life, I have some sort of haiku deficiency syndrome, a missing gene perhaps? Bah! I'm happy to just read'em.

Hey Ang, super cute poem, made me smile too.

I don't have a iambic pentameter bone in my body.

If you'd like, I can post some *real* poetry... but see, there's one tiny little problem. There is ten years of angst built up and hanging out in the form of a notebook and lots of loose paper. That's a lot to choose from.

So I'll peruse my stuff and try to find a decently appropriate one... many of them are depressing or depressed... still others are completely wacky and may only make sense to the author or someone with the story behind it under their belt.

I love to share my poetry/prose with people I trust, and for some ungodly reason I am tending to trust you guys... so here's a 'real' appetizer...

Home

I would never survive
Without the memories
Bittersweet reminders of home
Calling me to remember
Mountain peaks capped with glaciers
Reflecting the sunlight in blue ice
Challenging the strong, refusing the weak
They call me to remember
Hidden lakes in forgotten woods
Concealing the lost realms
Kingdoms of purest water
They call me to remember
Campfires through the dark of night
Hypnotic, sparkling flame
Safety in the circle of light
That calls me to remember
Waves that crash on rocky shores
Beautiful coastal sunsets
Peaceful flowing forevermore
That calls me to remember
Sunrises on high rise slopes
Boulders yet to climb
The goal achieved, the height attained
It calls me to remember
The memories remain with me
Calling me back home
Soon I�ll return and there with me
The places yet to roam.

11 September 1998


How's that?
~Ang

How's that?

That, Froggy is lovely! Love the lilting rhythm and the imagery. Thanks for trusting us.

For you, anything, darlin'...

will no one else contribute?

Circle of Light

Beyond my circle of light
The pondering, tentative color
Lies utter blackness
Void of form and feature
Enveloping all that was
Into its abyss
Sucking at the light
A child nursing greedily
Taking my security
Taking my protection
Taking my reassurance
Leaving me alone
In this wilderness
With just a small circle of light.

24 August 1998

~Ang

Stated Haiku drought

is mental, not genetic;

Is it raining yet?

Okey Dokey...Here goes nothing....

"What is Life?"
It is the flash of a firefly in the night.
It is the breath of a buffalo in the winter time.
It is the little shadow which runs across the grass and loses itself in the sunset.