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Welcome to Stoneflygirl's poetry page

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All of this is my own original work but if you want you can submit something and I will post it and give you credit and such. These are in no particular order. Sooo, without further ado....


Spanish Danse



golden sunlight reveals blood
on the fingers of an aging guitarist
who ignores it for the passion
of the dance in front of him
and the dance of his hand on the strings
the strong faces, movements
of the flamenco dancers
black, red, gold flashing
beauty swirling, eyes locked, alluring
they spin closer together
closer, the pulsing beat
driving them closer
A whip of her skirt as she eludes his grasp
like a bullfight, she is luring him in
with this intoxicating rhythm
people clap as she gracefully escapes
black hair, red lips, golden eyes
he plays along
there is no refusing this temptation
the music climbes higher and higher
faster and faster
She is alternately goddess and worshipper,
as much out of control as he
the rhythm is the only thing commanding

it stops

applause




Untitled


Pushing gently through the soil
determinedly growing up, down
Up! through the surface to the light above
A sojourn to heaven
green shoots climb cloud-ward
showers feed and nourish
slowly, color peeps out
a hint, and then a blossom
full and glorious, pregnant with possibilities
siren in its own right

snow

chill and cold
freezing brittleness
ice encrusted petals now lackluster
shrivling towards doom
no warm sun
no fabulous silky days
monochromatic landscapes
crackling stem underfoot
the end of a life





This poem was written by my dad about me at six months old and I still love it.

Table Manners


Six months old
you sit
clapping hands and wiggling
at the tableís edge

Leaning forward you take a taste
of napkin,a bite of plate
Swallowing your pride
you squeal for attention
and slap the nearest surface with satisfaction
we smile and slap in return

Grabbing with gusto an unwary glass
you tilt it just enough for a scare
and a puddle
before the glass takes refuge
in more familiar hands
You coo, burble, and slap again
waiting for us to see your needs
not just your deeds
Kicking and swaying you reach
beyond the bounds of decency
to snare the salt
and share it with the table
You shout
and for a moment are still
singing to a spoon
Chanting the wisdom of the ages
while we continue to eat








Primal Instinct


Strangling hands grab
and ask for explanation
they wonít let me dive in
or jump off the cliff
I grab my armor
and push the hands
away from my body
like a rabid Amazon
I scream and growl
and attack those closest to me
I shimmy out of the ropes that schackle me
and run away, naked,
to hide in the treetops
and watch my hunters stalk their prey
Their calls to me are sweet
but to my ears they are hisses and cat calls

I drink raindrops and clean myself with mud
Black warpaint surrounds my eyes
as I mimic my totem

my body is strong and full of feline power
but my soul is old
and submerged in water like the whale

I try to remove my mask and reveal my scars
but take one off and another grows in its place
I cannot show these wounds to the healing sunlight
though I slash at my skin in attempts to uncover them

I prowl all day and night
so restless I canít sleep and
be still even though I know
that it is the ultimate freedom

instead of turning in upon myself and leaving my body
I continue to claw at the web that holds me
and so tighten its grasp
I know how to escape but my body wont comply

Let me go


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