>what it is – a rap collaboration with Immanuel

>

First poem i wrote in rap style and thought it would be nice to really have it rapped – so i asked Immanuel if he would do the vocals – he did – and an amazing job i think.  thanks again!

what it is

it’s this genuine life
that’s precious to me
liftin’ me high up in the air
and lets me dive into the sea

it’s your brush
paintin’ my future bright
makes my heart pace fast
stirrin’ my longing for the light

it’s a free flow fall
killin’ all the pain
quietenin’ these voices
drivin’ me insane

it’s jumping walls
bein’ real with you and me
lookin’ into your eyes
it’s my reflection i see

it’s got me letting go
no need to control
shed blood floods my sins
you makin’ me whole

it’s comin’ ya close
findin’ shelter from the rain
cuttin’ loose these bonds
and the freedom i claim

it’s got me letting go
no need to control
shed blood floods my sins
makin’ me
makin’ me whole
ya know?

linking up with One Shot Wednesday – join us, write a poem or just jump over to read others. Sign up opens today at 5 pm EST

>playin’ the love beat

>just you and me

hidden

in the tree

on a branch

beak to beak

and fluffy feathers part

i feel your heart

bum – ba – bum – ba – bum

playing the love beat.

Say it in 160 characters (spaces included..) and visit Monkey Man to link up or read others

>where silence lies

>I see you in the space where silence lies
and concrete glistens wet on unwalked streets
when fine-spun threads will pull us as we meet
and you so cautiously would kiss my eyes

and as i feel the purple blues arise
i start to fall, my world turns into beats
I see you in the space where silence lies
and concrete glistens wet on unwalked streets

our rain, a dance of thousand fireflies
when silent waters flow like silky sheets
i part your seas and in the storm we meet
on muted flags we sail to bridge the ice
I see you in the space where silence lies
and concrete glistens wet on unwalked streets

(rondel form – ABba abAB abbaA(B)) in this case (B) a french sonnet or rondel prime

I meet you in the space where silence lies
and concrete glistens wet on unwalked streets
when you so cautiously would kiss my eyes
I meet you in the space where silence lies
and as i feel the purple blues arise
i start to fall, my world turns into beats
I meet you in the space where silence lies
and concrete glistens wet on unwalked streets

(triolet form – ABaAabAB – capital letters indicate refrain lines)

>diving

>warm liquid spills across my skin and
goose bumps drown in soap-warm foam
glimmering candles, keeping me company,
the window-knocking rain – locked out
 
flames flicker, twinkle towards shut-down
eye lids, throw image fragments into
candle-scent like oil, melting, blending with
my shadows, exploding into soapy art; paint
cloudy skies with smarties-colored dreams

and i stay small and wet and warm and
like my feet and hands, my soul would shrivel
water-wrinkled, bubbling soap, let go – as
fireworks paint pyro wonders on my naked 
skin – and diving deep, i drown the rain.

another round of One Shot Wednesday – join us, write a poem or just jump over to read others. Sign up opens today at 5 pm EST

>see me

>see me
through the veil of
wonders, when you gently
touch my face on moonlit softened
nights, i hear you howling, wild with longing
circled by swift whispers as you’re
sensing for the rain, when
quiet enters; 
see me

this is my first poem, written in rictameter form, a structure i like because of its rhythm. special thanks to Luke Prater for explaining and helping with this

..oh..and don’t search for a deeper meaning in this piece…there is none…i was just writing without thinking..only counting and syllable-dancing…smiles

Rictameter – the meter pattern (syllables per line) is 2-4-6-8-10-8-6-4-2.

There is no rhyme/repetition dictated but it is optional. First and last lines are identical.

Rictameter form was created early 1990s by two cousins, Jason D. Wilkins and Richard W. Lunsford Jr., both poets who ran a weekly poetry contest in their club, the Brotherhood of the Amarantos Mystery, inspired by Robin Williams’ movie “Dead Poet’s Society”. Jason, who made the first and last line the same, named it Rictameter after his brother Rich, who created the form

>my prose flame

>i’m blazing words
&dream-drink poetry
in thunderstorms
join in&we may get a prose flame burning
set the town on fire
&syllable-dance in a snow-covered yard

Say it in 160 characters (spaces included..) and visit Monkey Man on sunday to link up or read others

>out of balance

>(out of balance)

i saw you lurching down
the road, unsteadily steady
shifting
your weight back – up – aargh!
and forth – oh no – and.. yes
i envied you balance the
imbalance, bereft of poise, and yet
withstanding gravity‘s forces, lurking
for your downfall – a matter
of (what) time. left? wishing
i had some of your equilibrium.

what can you say in 55 words? linking up with g-man

>liquid bareness

>find me lying
beneath trees
eyes closed and
covered with leaves

bygone summer
silent tunes
drinking in the fall of time
motionless; breathing
yesterday’s heartbeats

clouds gather,
black-paint the sky
blowing shadowed strength
marching to forces &
pouring freight
on fragile constructions

& what i thought
would hide me was washed
into liquid bareness
in less than seconds

Join us tonight for One Shot Wednesday – write a poem or jump over to read others. Sign up opens today at 5 pm EST

>glue & love stains

>I can’t say i miss you
every single minute of my day.
there are times, i forget how
you smell and feel bad about it.
but in moments like now,
it feels like part of my heart is being
painted on with the same window colors
you painted your snowboard with.

It leans a bit lonely against the mirror
in your room (so do i).

wide heart-sections also
seem to be covered with those
tiny tesserae, you glued
to the small table
(they make it so uneven)
and when I pull out the old
magazines from below your couch
and find half of the pictures are
cut out, newly arranged and used as
school book covers, i start to see
what may have happened to me.

and i wonder if i’ll find tiny pieces
of my heart, taken away, re-arranged to
new patterns & scattered across the globe.
they may seem out of context
(just as i feel right now)
and glue is sticking to them but
most probably, they are beautifully
arranged; and next to the glue i know,
i’ll find love stains.

was my daughter’s birthday and as she’s in La Paz for a year, we’ll only have a remote celebration via skype..

linking up with emily’s imperfect prose…

>i see you

>

i hear your song as i
pass by. a melody,
never sung; swallowed
by life’s traffic like garbage
in a waste press. broken
dream dirge, carried away
on exhaust gases; and
shattered hope beat, melting
in greasy circles into
the rush hour before it
gets lost somewhere
in a busy crowd.

Linking up with one shoot sunday @ One Stop Poetry

Photo credit: Ed Yourdon