Miss De Milo's Fat Shoulders

My acrophobic heart fell
but somehow leapt
the crevasse of my throat
at first glimpse
of her delicate shoulders

these perfect bones
under an exactness of skin

shoulders which
with a feather
God himself chiseled
and could not
have left to apprentices.

At that moment she
made Venus seem
unworthy of sculpting

The guile
less fact
of her smile
that had never been tugged
by a fleshly thought
made her shoulders nymphbare.

And all I could offer her
were my worst emotions:
jealousy of the sun
that warmed them
the distance of summer.

I doubt a prudish thought
was ever unfilthy
and found myself wanting
a sweater
to cover them
just so I
could see it slip
to reveal the subtle skin
that could not
be mimicked
in smoothness
of any stone

Helen's face
sent Troy to sea but
leering historians forgot
her mundane shoulders

copyright 1999  J. Kevin Wolfe
 
 

Mrs. Einstein

"Why is it" said Mrs. Einstein
"that a man can hear the silent
hum of the universe and
know what's making it knock...yet
he can't hear a word I'm saying"

"Huh?" said Albert
contemplating an expanse of space
and forgetting to wind his watch.

copyright 1998  J. Kevin Wolfe

Oh, he that is so true of heart
Compassion,pure-does he impart,
Holds within, a love ne'er waning,
Most wondrous gifts, his soul containing
That all who know him see.
He, who being all of this
Pressed upon my lips a kiss
Gave love upon which, life exists
He's shown this unto me.

Oh, he that holds such deep emotion
And to his love gives all devotion,
Who proudly holds her on his arm.
So handsome in his manly charm,
So loyal to his swain.
And even when the two, apart
Still bound together, heart to heart
My, love no matter where thou art
I am calling out your name.

Leigh Engel

 http://www.denimandpearls.com
 
 
 

                           What's in a name

                                     by

                            Travis Ray Cole

     A rose by any other name,does not equal you
     don't judge a rose by it's color,
     one petal is not even close to the truth
     roses dying on the cross,no way to rebloom
     give me your love, I'll give it back
     I only want a girl like you
     a path of rose petals opening up for love feeling truth
     a lie about a rose could come back & stick right into you
     a trail of roses on the ground for you to walk upon
     even without love, a rose dies and is gone
     when your love grows deep in the heart of the sun
     with the mist of dew in its mind, waiting for the summer
     all the time... you spent waiting, thought I'd never come
     from the bush where love emerges and unfolds our love
     a bud has awakened ,everythings coming up roses
     and the rose water that is steeping is distilling for your
     lucious loving mind

Reality Spoke

I fall to the ground in fragility
to lay there like a impotent child
And from the corner of my eye I see the
 outline of a one,
His frame standing among that
 of my once  hidden fears,
And the rains back away
as the pulsating winds slow
and I see him as he once saw me,
of angelic wings suspended to my frame,
soft as the night that enfolds about me, but
no more,
for the angel’s wings are blowing now,
the soft feathers speading about the ground
in a swirling pool, lacking in devotion, without the
compassion, each feather escaping the cyclone winds,  one
by one, until the last feather finds the current that will
blow her in a  direction towards a new found reality~

Viesta 99~

Optimistic View

Come
journey round my mind
don’t be afraid
enter…

Remnants of lilacs
still lay upon my bed of dreams
in sweet scents of memory
pillows of billowy clouds
of loss…do linger though

But
come view with interest
to say the least

Just be wary
not to remain at great lengths
in well-marked caverns of caution
you could
drown yourself in depths of sorrows
if you stay too long
amidst these lost callings

Seek only the maiden at her best
…flowing tresses
caress and cradle
her milk pale face
ever flowing
weaving tapestries
of hopeful new day dreams
the light
from her youth
plods along

dreamchild’s eons pass
yet the glass is always
half full

Falling Star

Star from which my music evolved, you are my music
Songs eternally on rivers flow, to sing unchained
By you there be no winds of change

Headstrong against all gales, breathless
I try master your shining prowess
Swimming into oceans of love’s plenitude, in its strength,
its magnitude
I dare caress left stardust, blindly seeking paths…culmination

Falling star…you fill my heart with fire!

Through stretched limbs of oak,
through all terrestrial plains of adoration
I there dwell in melodies of devotion
…not to hold
…but to touch…this falling star

On Journal Keeping

I want to live deliberately,
record every sensation that makes me - me:
each recoiling horror and astute discovery,
each minute smile and trailing tear.
I want them all, neat and packed away.

In a notebook, tattered,
they carelessly play,
a paper trail marking my traipsing
through an otherwise barren life.
A snip of colored pulp brightens,
enlightens my way.  Some say I
sentimentalize
much too much, holding on to little
scrawls of self-expression.

But they are my own brand of God-force
for in them is raw material
which I process with my energy.
Born then is my creation
my child to linger
even after I am gone
and this is what it means to me
to live deliberately.

Valerie K. Schwader