George Harrison - Bangladesh and Monday Poetry Train #95

"a concert to remember"

Square at capacity, relieve the people
George, Billy no John
Ravi on sitar with Klaus on bass
Bangladesh something to remember
Never should we forget a cyclone that whipped around
Bob and Leon
Relieve the people
From poverty and death
Where are John, George and Billy?
Strange how it works when it takes some of the best
We need inspiration with perfect words
`71 the Square filled with some of music’s greatest
In one place~at one time
Relief for the people from Bangladesh
Missing John

do you have? #230 sunday scribblings faith

Think about what it means
faith . . . mirrors that cradle
if you fall into a stupor . . .
Of fortitude with harps that colour your life
can turn a period of numbers upside
down . . .
A turgid grumble
Scrimp to blister even the girth of the
devoted . . .

photos writers island #18 if only

I retrieve you from the cardboard box stored away for many years.

On the oak surface, I spread out glossy prints.

I examine each smile, each hug, vibrant colour is a persistent ache.

My hands wander from one to the next, as I touch the smooth

surface of memories poised in my mind. I hear the sound of an

ambulance passing by and repeat to myself 'button, button who’s

got the button' a phrase from childhood. Things that are missed

and sometimes forgotten. Memories are all we have to hold on to.

I place you back in your paper tomb, until we can be together again.

On our oak surface. If only in my mind.

'My hands have become yours' big tent poetry #17 hands

Small and delicate slender grace,

movements capture splendid forms.

trazos sauves

soft strokes

légers coups de

In clay urns buried beneath the soil.

Gliding on the surface of colours.

With the light of sky on a palette.

romolinos de colores de la mezcla

swirling colours mix

tourbillonnant mélanger les couleurs

Explode and seep into the roots.

Moments captured forever in hues.

Transform this fluid pattern permanent.

Sable hair blends and sways . . .


*many things have influenced this writing:
Death and cremation.
Being an artist.
Translation of a foreign language.
(new job and loving it!)

`one drop` poets united #12 water

I

surge

during streams of

existence. I must sustain

this fluid touch, clear ecstasy and

balance to hydrate. Our senses come to

relief with a single drop released from sources,

past idiosyncrasies, lost forever without this contact.

essential and vital moves through the tributary in the air

depending on flows of oxygen. Swimming in the orbit of

space. Seeping in deep creases of saturated drips on

mountainous rocks lined with coolness over its

face. Its flow remains liquid on the

path of necessity for

life-water

When all things come to an end Thursday Poets Rally week #27

The minimum difference of what makes things happen.

When meeting at the end of fortune--despair ...

lost to the few spectators passing. Unwinding in copper kettles.

Journey becomes a death of passion's subdued design.

Where knives and forks pierce the outer lining of the hemisphere.

To eat upon the weakness of the entertaining few and scattered

to eaves completely out of reach. Covered in black heaving rain.

Smothering and forcing the bile to rise from within.

six-word memoir (of sorts) we write poems #16 six-word memoirs

The best advice I’ve ever given:

Adjustment takes some time: so relax

happens

Forty found a lump on breast

ridiculous

Family singing and eating: too much

gastronomy

Good friends spicy Mexican fish tacos

difficult

Strained relations need to lighten up

amazing

40 meters down side of mountain

sometimes

Laughter, smiles, happiness, live life today

wishes

Not always so when it’s cold

stupidity

Giving up and giving into anger

My life overall:

Happy satisfied I can’t complain really

'No one' monday poetry train #94

No one cares if you can play the piano

strike every key precisely and resonate

you became obstinate and fabulous in your bubble

No one cares if you are a carnivore with hunger to be prominent

you choose hatred and ornery vice as a friend

desperate and an unlikely foe

No one cares if fabulous gnats hang about

urging you to goose and bungle people

unlikely someday you will find a friend

but No one cares

dangerous enemy sunday scribblings #229 dangerous

Everywhere I look . . .
insidious helmets roll
as a bristle on the terrain


stripes of a nation
with ardent graphic characters
mercurial twist and nip


unkempt wings stalk
to joust a dramatic flair
an outlet twist


yearly master box of danger
behooves them

she has been caught up writer's island #17 time travel

I thought today I would try some surrealist automatic writing.
It comes from a prompt over at we write poems that I participated
in back in July.  I started with the letter `S`


She walked through a maze set to the sound of a soft beating drum.

Sweet violins in the air with a melody only for her ears.

Swift is the journey with lace curtains in the breeze.

Scurrilous fairies flew high above with poisoned words.

Swinging tapestry that is meant to wrap round and suffocate.

Seven dimensions in time become apparent, attainable . . .

Succulent desires rise and form rings of truth in water on the sea.

Sand filling her eyes she cries for the fold to release her.

experiences poets united #11 pain

Pain comes in waves

That dance round poles

of opposite forces

It may rise and fall

swing on the sideways

tilt

Feel pain form inside

Released through pores sealed tight

crusted and deadened by respirations

stiff

summertime big tent poetry #16 wordle

Summer zeroes in a stream

Cars baked from heat

A dry plant in a pineapple forest

Silk hose to surround . . . moisten

Glass blown pots . . . now deep

the colors that mix we write poems #15

I see a tinge of ochre
as I look through this maze
of memories cast aside

Chartreuse becomes unforgiving
as we mount them on a pedestal
I look for vividness in a foggy
past and hope for something more

I see a trace of melancholy
and wonder where it has gone

gone writers island #16 inception

eradicate forces
that invade bodies
sleep for years to forget
poison that circulates within

dream
triumvirate in final numbers
perform upon a trampoline
a dint of life

place a shilling to crossover . . .




*Well my brother Bill finally lost his battle
with cancer last night.
I just received the news today.
May he rest in peace

`somewhere out there` big tent poetry #15

People disappoint me all the time
Tongues that cut you with
static words . . . blackness
Crammed down my throat
Cross expressions . . . meant to hurt
Shambles follow on incandescent trails
To make me feel unworthy
Stomp on you
All of this I cross
Safely tucked away
I utilize it
In times like these
A sense of humor
Is my favourite possession

My fear we write poems #14 a list poem

I’m not afraid of anything

I’d never;

              Jump off a bridge or

              a cliff

you can’t put me in a box

                                     with just a cord about my waist

                                     or my ankle

Jump out of a plane

                             just a pack on my back

                             pull a cord and make my safety secure

you could wrap me round

a silly go round

I’m afraid of some things

about a girl POW $#15 wordle

In the morn among a trickle
Rude Rose in her girdle
She didn’t want to wobble
A maiden in her heart for joy boy
Her peach glow was compact

Silk and tulle covered a table for tea
Fine china starting to crack
In the hall on logs she would burn
the bud of a dead flower

She had a frisson quake run through her
With fingers in white lap
And a sparrow feather for a promise
On the tip of her lip nothing but twaddle

I am spellbound writer's island #15 spellbound

as I penultimate to the next phase
I am voracious
as you give me cryptic signs
we ornate and become statuesque
as we bloom
static with fibers
I am spellbound in my stupor
as swordfish sail from the ocean floor

something different big tent poetry #14

tears fall fast and thin.
a world that cares less.
turtles follow me on the shore.
crawling along and smiling.
prominent with my surety.

`it is mine` poets united #9 sanctuary

I seek refuge in my sanctuary
It is an unusual place I hide
to articulate my thoughts
I start with introduction from scarlet
sentences upon white paper
At times I blunder and taunt myself
But I moderate with separation
as if floating down a creek
on a summer day watching marsupials
hanging about in the trees
Then something inside me limbers up
a sample has been written
it is somber and I become intrepid
I am not transparent I have found my
sanctuary

little queen little princess we write poems #13 little red riding hood revisited

little red hooded queen

walking through a rainy forest

she was perfectly tired of carrying the burden

a crass moose crosses her path

inebriated and persistent with his questions

she became irritated with his horrid stench



little red hooded princess

running in the woods

she was terrified from what she had seen

she slipped in the mud and a bald headed

eagle arrived to pick her up

inebriated and persistent with his questions



she thought this is useless

my journey through the woods

poor little red riding hood

remedios POW #14 Spanish sprinkle series

Remedios the Beauty

a first child

most beautiful woman in Macondo

como rayos de luna que se dirigen hacia tus ojos



naively innocent

as moonbeams fall and I drift into your eyes

inherited great lucidity

as if returning from twenty years of war

she rejects clothing and beauty

siento como si te hubieras marchado desde hace tiempo



too beautiful and arguably too wise for the world

I feel as if you left a long time ago

any man who loves or lusts

undeniably shall meet his end

most innocently she dances around in light


Remedios ascends into the sky one morning

envolviéndome nuevamente con suspiros

Suave y ligero al tacto

surround me once again with whispers

soft and light to the touch




process notes:

As moonbeams fall and I drift into your eyes

I feel as if you left a long time ago

Surround me once again with whispers

Soft and light to the touch


Como rayos de luna que se dirigen hacia tus ojos

Siento como si te hubieras marchado desde hace tiempo

Envolviéndome nuevamente con suspiros

Suave y ligero al tacto