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6095. wabbit - 4/28/2014 8:34:20 PM Nu, thanks for those - good to see you! 6096. alistairconnor - 4/29/2014 10:38:49 AM Ah glory days. How's your prose writing, Mr Planet? 6097. NuPlanetOne - 5/3/2014 10:59:16 PM Thanks guys. Actually, alistair, am hoping to string together a collection of short stories by years end. 6098. NuPlanetOne - 5/19/2014 8:51:49 PM Something serious and something light....
My Wonderful Dream
Am I missing sunsets
That trail along the sky
I know I miss the dawn
When I sat alone
On the pier
It was a holy time
I had no experience
And no regrets
I just wished
For things
Because there was time
Ahead
And wishing was so grand
The trust in hope
That fierce strength
To make things happen
And even when nothing
I wished for
Came to pass
There was the next dawn
And even as the same
Weary boats
Went out
I believed, for me
It would be different
At some point
I began
To watch the sunset
The colors
Seemed to match
My broken heart
The rusty golds stretched
Like regrets
Across the sky
And the urgency
And my wishes
Hung like the day’s
Nets
Out to dry
And although
I might still
Look up and sit
Quiet at dawn
Or sit looking back
At shore
As the boat takes me out
The wild desire
And painful yearning
As the sun gleams
Over the edge
Is not anymore
A holy thing
But just some other
Fisherman’s
Wonderful dream
24 Hour Blues
There is something dogging me
A heaviness. A dread
Feelings of emptiness
I must be depressed. Finally!
I know what it is
This feels like the blues
Are these the blues?
I need an instrument
To play them on. A Saxaphone
I need an analyst
To dig into my past
How long do they last?
Should I sit by the window
On a passing bus
Staring out into space?
No. I will sit alone in a booth
In a café and brood
I won’t order food
What if I do smile?
It must be a grin
A sad looking grin
Of chagrin. Self pity
And if it lasts a day
Who are you to say
Get over it?
6099. webfeet - 7/8/2014 1:44:39 AM OMG! HE BE BCK 6100. webfeet - 7/8/2014 2:28:28 AM No, no , don't misunderstand my euphoric outburst for Nuplanet's return as a stunning disregard for the loss of Seamus Heaney or PelleNillson. But I do think humor is needed here. I just told my husband that some beloved Motees died, and he said, being French, that we should call it, instead of the Mote, La Morte. You can't account for the French. They're just...like that.
6101. webfeet - 7/8/2014 2:31:19 AM Omg,Nuplanet. You must stop it. I am weeping like an Opera. 6102. webfeet - 7/8/2014 2:31:42 AM And, of course, I loved Maria Gleason. 6103. webfeet - 7/8/2014 2:43:00 AM Maybe we should call it The Merde? 6104. judithathome - 7/8/2014 9:23:39 PM I'm not ready for it to go to shit just yet.... 6105. NuPlanetOne - 8/20/2014 2:42:25 AM Ah, Miss Feet. You bring me to a grin as always with your enthusiasm. I missed you. Yes, poor Maria, our Sprite. And hello to everyone! But Web, Did Seamus pass? Or just no longer haunts this forum? 6106. arkymalarky - 8/20/2014 3:13:42 AM I don't know about Seamus, but you need to look in the cafe if you haven't. Very sad. 6107. NuPlanetOne - 8/22/2014 6:36:58 AM I misunderstood rick's post! Rumors of 'our' Seamus departing this world are gravely exaggerated! I checked the Cafe. Irv will be missed. Sad news indeed.
6108. NuPlanetOne - 11/10/2014 7:43:32 AM Must Be Necessary
Today I saw a photo of 3 spiral galaxies
juxtaposed together, yet drifting in space.
Innumerable worlds twirling at a pace
measured by old light beams and dreams
of understanding an illusory distance
that cannot be reckoned by numbers alone.
That cannot be shown by a current equation
to any exact degree, to be, on any course.
Except perhaps, to be vortexing into a hole.
Down some drain that might contain a receptacle
or some drowning pool that holds everything.
Somewhere that we cannot see them any more.
And we are sure that the hole in our own galaxy
is winding us down in much the same way.
I decided it must be necessary to go into that hole--
Although there is certainly enough room out there--
to avoid it.
6109. judithathome - 11/10/2014 6:56:28 PM Great imagery...I can "see" it all. 6110. NuPlanetOne - 12/4/2014 12:33:11 PM Thanks Judith. And Happy Holidays everyone!
Out of The Silence
We drove in silence
Coming up on a light
You asked me what was wrong
The song on the radio
Ended, and I pretended
Not to hear
You shut it off
You asked again
Why I ignore you
You said now and then
I do that
I ignore you
No I spat
I do it all the time
I ignore you, I thought, said
She goes red with desire
I was thinking
Before the interruption
Merely
Because I smiled or
Brushed against her arm
Not like you,
I said it within
She is magic
And you are not
I felt guilty, defiant
Then said I was joking
Out loud
Poking fun,
Said I always pay attention
You shot that glance
Then stared at your lap
Your left hand gripping
Your right as the light
Strobed...illuminating you
At intervals
But what was I thinking
Just now, you asked
Claimed
I had a look
Like I had a secret
Like I wished
I was alone
You watched the light go green
Then said nothing more between
The next two lights
Do you love her?
The world exploded
There was crackling
Pupils darting
Sweat in furrows
It was starting
To rain
It is true
When you drown
So much
Dances down
And across your mind
It felt like drowning
And if you can find
The words
If you are the kind
That uses them
You might begin quietly
You won’t say anything?
She asked
Then unbearable quiet
Except the wipers
Scraped the windshield
I reached for the radio
She slapped my hand
The motion fanned
The cigarette smoke
The time we had spent
Trying to fix things
Denials and acknowledgement
Beat like a heart
In the air between us
Like shooting stars,
Long tailed
Lights whizzed by
The rain sparkled windows
Your head trained on me
Soul, strained on me
Out of the silence
I began quietly
Yes, I whispered
I love her.
6111. arkymalarky - 12/4/2014 7:05:12 PM I love that poem. I remember it. 6112. NuPlanetOne - 4/6/2015 3:44:03 AM I'll never learn....
En Passant
That was gonna make the difference
And I was gonna show you how
I was gonna make it up to you. Wow!
Where’d that come from. I never
Dreamed that could happen. Now
It is all completely different. It isn’t
About the same thing. Ha! What in
The fuck was I thinking? You never
Showed me this. I don’t care. Doesn’t
Matter. It’s just interesting. Fascinating,
Really. How you managed to do something
Surprising. But major! Totally unexpected
Totally disconnected from me. From
My idea of things. My idea of things?
And what the fuck was that! I didn’t
Even give you a serious place in any things
You were a pawn I moved to set up a move
I had no fear to move two squares ahead
You could be sacked. Or stacked up
Amidst, I don’t know, against, I don’t know!
Whatever. I could just tip the board and start
A new game. But Jesus! How could you afford
I mean, sack me? I taught you how to play
I taught you what to say. How could you want
It all? It’s true, people do grow and change
But you went right on being the same. I know,
I mean, I knew, you were smart, but in my heart
I pretended otherwise. I was just gonna tell you
Make it all right. I was always gonna tell you
It would've made the difference. It might
Have been different. It is different! You moved
Coldly, quietly, right by me. En passant. 6113. judithathome - 4/6/2015 7:05:50 PM Ooooohhh....I like this one so very much!
Because. I have been there...you sound exactly like my exe in that poem. And most likely....like a lot of exes.
Beautifully done, however. I admire you can craft heartbreak into something so...honest. 6114. RickNelson - 7/10/2015 1:54:26 PM Looking for something:
I thought there would be a time,
when being alone would feel alright,
walk and sit around campus,
Looking.
Unaware of what I could seek out.
Watching people, who have something,
I think I could have, but wonder.
I went to see a friend carry a mock coffin,
dressed in black, he trudged, carrying his prop.
A statement of AIDS death and dehumanization.
He was like that, artistic and concerned,
thinking the depth of things....
That time, campus life and observations,
mean many different things.
The so called norm, isn't, and to guess,
Looking
at someone is futile, and in a way dehumanizing.
Let me drag it out, it takes time afterall.
Seeing nuance, the subtle divides of action,
event, reaction and meaning.
Time goes by and the nuances of life
evolve, somewhat,
especially artistically.
Consider who stated,
thoughts roll out on a page.
read, the message and the art.
Looking.
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