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Today I walked through the cemetery of my childhood
of all life stories encapsulated there.
Friends and neighbors
inscribed on theses stones;
A card catalog
of stories one can no longer check out.
Ancestries long buried in dust
some lost in time;
Yet the stones live on
calling for recognition from the living.
Today, as I walked
I remembered friends and neighbors
who shaped my life
with their smiles…
I think to myself
“I’ve got friends in low places…”
I must be getting old!
Photos: Dwight L. Roth
Today at d’Verse, Peter asked us to consider beginnings and endings in poetry. We are looking at how the lines flow and how endings are used to punctuate what we are trying to say. He gave us five things to choose from as we write our poems. I tried to incorporate some of these in my poem…
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I came to you with some Tennessee whiskey and a small plant with rosemary trying to grow. I sat on your porch, waiting for you. I wanted to see your morning face, drink the fresh coffee and to hear your voice again.
We were great lovers once and we faded to needed friends. You brought the coffee, wearing t-sheet and barefoot. You sat with me and I reached over and I brought your feet to my lap. I caressed them and I asked. Are you alright?
You smiled and you asked. You miss me honey? I told you many times. Always room for you in my large bed. I called you last night. You sounded somber and I heard the bar songs. Johnnie, you know I hate picked flower and I love the plant of the rosemary. You know my heart, in and out. Johnnie, we must bury…
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The twisted dance of love.
(written in 1988)
A Poem by Coyote Poetry
Just words. A rewrite from December, 1988.
The twisted dance of love
(Written in 1988)
I lay beside you in the night of the Germany December.
I feel the heat of tender flesh and I look into your blue eyes.
They shine like the shining night stars on a clear night.
You tell me. You are so good to me, so kind to me.
I tell you. I love you. You are my reasons to be alive.
You looked away from me and whisper. I don’t want love. Too heavy a burden to carry for me
and we are too young to lose our thoughts and hope to one place or person.
In the heat of sex, you whispered. I love you Johnnie,
but in the dance of kiss and embrace is where hungry and…
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At dVerse Peter is hosting Meeting the Bar with an invitation to explore endings/beginnings.
“I’m interested in memory because it’s a filter through which we see our lives ….” Kazuo Ishiguro
And Cut Them Into Pieces I lived the secrets and cut them into pieces lest they find me and undo my perfect belief that I am indeed my true self and not another, a mere codicil to a footnote of self-deception. Lest they find me and undo my perfect belief that I am merely myself and no purified saint, a mere codicil to a footnote of self-deception, lost in the annals of myopic delusions. That I am merely myself and no purified saint, exposed to the world, bared in all emptiness, lost in the annals of myopic delusions, accusing me or mirroring myself to my face. Exposed to the world, bared…
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Sometimes we keep unfinished business for the next day.
Sometimes we keep unfinished chocolate for the next day.
We are quite optimistic about our life.
Which is pretty amazing.
What if we don’t wake up the following day?
What about out unfinished business and the unfinished chocolate?
Senryu Morning came quickly Shaking sleep from my body Prodding me awake Copyright © 2020 Christine Bolton – Poetry for Healing