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Thread: The Esoteric Diaries

  1. #101
    12pm's Avatar
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    Default sleep has other brothers

    Sleep has other brothers, too, younger
    Than death. One is certain birds
    Can say only what they say. And one
    Wears gloves always, afraid to leave
    Prints on the table you were dreaming.
    There are twelve in all; they carry spoons
    To catch each of your breaths, bear them
    To that mountain where they build
    A house so familiar when you see it,
    The bricks of your inspiration,
    The shutters of what expires.

  2. #102
    stickinthemud is offline Junior Twelever +1 TwelevePlus
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    Default

    Quote Originally Posted by spiderman
    Jean, Mark15 (16? 17?), Nodon, and I wrote for three+ hours.  alcohol, PMS-induced carnage, repressed love, kidnappers in duck costumes, and an oh-well-I'm-fired-anyway attitude, and you've pretty much got it.

    Carol

    wow - sounds like a writer's party

    sorry i missed it (alchol PMS-induced carnage - hope there was at least one high speed car chase, lol), will try to be there next time.

    sitm
    Being and nothingness are illusions. Rollo May

  3. #103
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    Default the senseless garden

    What’s tortured from the soil?
    You’ll drive your eye into its gate
    With some green turning now. The soul
    Grins back from that senseless boil
    Of leafy profusion, soon or sooner.
    Your door revolves on poles
    Anchored in an apple’s grannied pips.
    Speech comes too late, tripping
    Over tongueless stars and onion grass.
    A goodbye and a heathen’s candle
    Should be your middle name.
    Yes, a goodbye, pilgrim, friend,
    Like an angel hitchhiking
    To where your earth begins.

  4. #104
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    Default

    hey just a lil fyi...im hosting the picture contest and its a puzzle !

    please join in the fun if ya like

    the topic FAVORITE THINGS
    www.etsy.com/shop/DazeDesigns
    ((((((((twelevepeeps)))))))))

  5. #105
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    Default nobody eats clever

    trees grr:

    i
    eve
    differently.

    no,
    really,
    their
    i do
    is
    eye-
    less.

    m.
    adam,
    elba
    disables.

    ere
    eve,
    even
    the moon
    had no waterloo,
    no panama
    in a man, planned
    no vee for victory.

    now
    ribs adam
    in dirt,
    obs
    i dia n,
    reverseless.

    want to rob
    neighbor
    of chickens?

    cook
    on trashfires
    hidden below
    the trestle?

    on a palindromic spit,
    on an anagrammed teat,
    on a maya con maya,
    o boy?

    burn away;
    robbie
    burns away.

  6. #106
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    Default

    Wrapped in a burgundy gown,
    shifting uncomfortably on a paper table
    beneath the curled magazine smiles,
    you wished for courage.

    First, to get an appointment,
    you paced the cold tile floor in bare feet,
    hoping to catch the return call
    like a frog unfurling its long tongue
    toward an unsuspecting fly,
    hiding this ugliness from your children.

    After, when the pharmacist gently reminded you,
    after you waited on the wooden bench
    watching a dashing man admire
    the lime and tangerine birds of paradise, that
    you have a new insurance carrier,
    and you fumbled through the detritus
    of your same-old black purse, trying
    to locate another five minutes of bravery
    and a new plastic card.

    In between, the conversation,
    like the one your own mother had,
    where you tried to describe to a furrow-browed
    physician, doors.

    It's doors and doors and doors.

    You slowly turned your wedding rings,
    swallowed the stones in your throat,
    and quietly
    spoke.

    Every
    word
    had weight,
    pulling you further
    into the dank solitary cavern
    that had become your private temple.

    On and on you talked
    until you finally got to it,
    the reason you felt locked out
    of your own life.

    It was silent then, except for
    that one tear that seared
    the dry paper.

    A single beam of light
    wedged its way through that black,
    landing on your knee,
    where her hand rested like a stray kitten,
    warm and still;
    when she looked squarely into
    your scared eyes and said,
    "I can help."

    And you realized
    with astonishing clarity
    that you are your own light,
    that you just helped, too.

  7. #107
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    Default

    In the quiet morning,
    you run your fingers through
    the curtain of beads that hangs
    at the foot of her bed.

    You slip your foot inside her sandal
    and it belongs there,
    a fit as comfortable as
    she once was in your womb.

    At first, when you turn to the mirror,
    your eyes find necklaces hanging from the corner,
    artwork, stacks of journals,
    the CD’s you didn’t buy, and then,
    your graying hair.

    Her brown bear, your brown bear,
    furless now except the small patch behind his right ear,
    lies tucked into her twin bed,
    covered to his chin by
    a sunshine-yellow sheet.

    Leaning against her door frame,
    you note the tiny pencil slash an inch above
    the wooden growth chart.
    You turn and walk down the carpeted hallway,
    the sound of hooves in muted echo.

    All around you, time gallops on,
    a pretty, pretty pony.

  8. #108
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    Default heaven and a belief when one was begiining to deny for td.

    a current has come
    there is a brook with smooth stones
    salmon leap in this escaped water
    friendly and creating families
    safe eggs tease the slightest pad underneath my toes
    where you almost cannot feel - like your soul sometimes
    but it screams when pain approaches
    there is no pain this time
    only a release of cardinals
    heaven strokes that forgotten foot, that heart. mine.

    an angel comes from a crevasse
    you are he
    i welcome your ministry that brushes every whisper, every minute, every
    breeze
    with a colour long retired. dormant. perhaps even unseen
    humbly, before God, i look at the world
    people and seeds and sidewalks and the puddles astride them
    with violins
    with violins that turn every tree into a pine that is just right for right then
    and remains.


    kath
    Deep in Blue Dog's eyes will always lurk the hopes and longings of a melancholy people, but, like the Cajuns, who always trained their eyes on the future, Blue Dog must move forward.
    ~George Rodrigue fr 'Blue Dog Man'

    He must have a truly romantic nature, for he weeps when there is nothing at all to weep about.
    ~Oscar Wilde

    From sumthyngness into givyngness unto the given.
    ~fr 'DAR' m.s

  9. #109
    stickinthemud is offline Junior Twelever +1 TwelevePlus
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    Default Rantings

    Abandon the abbess
    Steal the abbot within where ability abides
    Be about before being above
    Accepting according to accomplishment

    Attack according to acknowledgement
    Acquaint then acquire action

    Be alive, address the poisoned adder and banish it
    Adorn the adversary's advantage with advice
    Affectionately advise the advisor
    Be afraid yet afflict affliction

    Against age be much afraid
    All is air, dream, spirit; all is agreeable spirit

    Aliens alight, all is living
    Also allow the Almighty alongside
    Always amid and also within your paternal lineage
    Answer your maternal ancestor, everywhere

    Disquise yourself, and approach the archers
    A risen and armed army of aristocrats
    Arouse arrogance arranged beforehand
    Arrest arrived arrogance just before it arrives

    Oh artful artifice, arrogant arrow fly
    As ash rises, smoke

    Ask, and be astonished that your donkey sleeps
    At last be astonished
    Audacious attitude, attain attention finally
    Authority awaiting the coming of autumn, audacious one

    At least be astonished
    Awesome

    Awesome
    Being and nothingness are illusions. Rollo May

  10. #110
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    Default

    I was hoping you'd post that! My translation was considerably different. Such is poetry.

    Carol

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