Current poems in progress...

Arrogant enough to think we’ll push it over the limit
Pious enough to think it dangerous.
Gross enough to offend it?

no, not even you.


-Symon

All I can think to say is "push open the doors and let it flood over the
dry wood"
Other than that I am speechless because of the raw power here.
Wendy
-------
Ok that's it...wendy/symon...you are busted.

TITLE: gods

entwining DNA round
a stark totem of Reason

A risen word for all
to defy
and wonder

Unchangable illusion

be Are to my All
be still in my thrushing

Be There in my Thus
and bear me my children

Hear now the nice nitetime songs
you knew would announce me

(So how strange it is
I must ask your permission)



-------
How beautiful. It makes sense to that part of me that I'm realizing I stopped listening to. Something finally came clear enough last night
that I understand.
Here is my answer:
It is not strange,
though it may seem
to see things
from a perspective
that was there
right beside you all the time
and me
as well.
Forgive my blind will
it has covered my eyes
with stuborn illusion
of my own choosing.
My hands have laid hold
of things I have waited for
but could not put words to
and still struggle to.
But I remember you
from that place that holds fast
clinging to my soul
inspite of my reckless life
until now,
or last night
when someone
maybe you
turned on the light.
----
Wendy
-------
That was a good one wendy.... wow.... and I thought I was a half way decent writer that was awesome in my opinion... **Amy**

-------
thank you Amy.
Wendy

Fractile

Spirial spokes
have spoken
breaking bounderies
defining possiblities
unfolding into magnificant
explosions.
All in a blink
and a breath
the eternal eye
views inward
sees my forever
says yes
lights it on fire
sending me
into unknown space
a familar empathy
with stars
gallaxies
repeating themselves
back to me
helping me understand
I am fractile too.

Spiral

He said na
she responded with a nay
that was all it took.
Petty distrubances
having gathered themselves
into a rather large
rather green looking stringy thing
hit the wall beside his head
sounding rather like
cucmbers being squished
under curious feet
how will it sound?
how will it feel?
He screamed something
words didn't like each other
when he screamed like that.
She screamed
and the china fell to peices.
Somewhere memory failed
somewhere words ceased being about life
and more about accusations
petty things left unsaid
became weapons
reason was lost
somewhere between the broken chairs
and broken bones.
Kindness packed it's bags
leaving because
enough is enough.
He forgot love
taking apathy up
using it as wrapping
for all her gifts.
She forgot love
taking up bitterness
wearing it as a shroud
hoping it will change him.
He doesn't remember her
anymore.
Not the person
he expected her to be.
She remembers who he used to be
hates now who he is.
He said things.
She said things.
And when the day was done
home wasn't home anymore.
A war zone
where life once breathed.
A safe place
now lays in ruins.
He thinks about someone else.
She thinks about someone else.
Neither one says
the words they really need to.
They just keep warring
waiting for someone to do something
hoping for an out.
He says absentmindedly
She ignors and says
stupidly in return.
That's all it takes.
Wonder how long it will take
before it's not just the house
that gets broken.

When It Was Spoken(title)
spinning fast, I can't tell

sense my heart breaking
actually feel it aching
don't know what to do
no idea of what to say
mind is full of thoughts
heart... emptied
feel I have nothing left
sense I've lost everything
all I wished for
each and every hope and dream
gone, withdrawn
disappeared, not here
taken away...
ripped apart my heart
when only one sentence
was spoken
Would appreciate comments on this, thanks...
**Amy**
-------
very nice Amy. It hits home, and is very familiar. I've been there too.
wendy
-------
thanks... i knew there were others out there... i understand I am not the only one...lol... thanks again, **Amy**

-------
Could be you lucked out in a big way..If you are talking about what you hoped was love, then indeed you did. Broken hearts, while no doubt major bummers ultimately become seeds to inner peace and truth...jd

Tuesday in Gray
sunday in scarlett red

The element of the suit,
a tweed immitation
by the over abundance
polly and ester,
drapes easy
hiding flaws and errors
blurring the evidence
of a thousand days
of diets that failed
only to be repeated
over and over.
Maybe the suit
should have been labled
"A way to lie
about how you live
when no one is looking"
but it wasn't.
The threads say cloth
but its a thin sanctuary
a cloak of invisablity
to hide in
while navigating
the sea of humanity
on Tuesday
the 20th of life
or the 45th of life
or any other day
you think about.
So I save it
just for the thousands
of tuesdays
to color the day
and disapear
without comment
or notice
so the transition
to wensday
won't be so loud
won't be so hard
won't remind me
of how much
wendsay really does look
and act
and feel
just like tuesday
with out
the suit of grey.
----
wendy
-------
I like it... **AMY**
-------
great read. I have read this several times and enjoyed. - NANGALEEMA
-------
I don't know when you wrote this, as I've just returned from a long trip, but i really see you honing your skills here. The language is more compact and vital than I remember...So Well Done!

-Symon

Unknown as of yet
Dark giggle goggles
one jiggers hand on triggers with doc holiday cool

They tell me to make my mark on the world
To leave for others to see
But I'm too busy checkin everything out in the dark
With the light of technology
And sportin a cool pair of shades.
My hand touches everything except what I need
And yet I bring homemade to the fire
They like that.
I do what I do, or not
And nothing can stop me
Except of course, my eventual death.

So close
they relish their folly a world unto them
of markets indexed lies and blind obediance
blood spills in deserts for a lust of crude
its inhabitance laughs at their opaqe vision
soon comes the fresh wind of a young hannibal
king georges court of fools relagated to crawford
to ply their wears at carnivale and sanitariums.
the end.

I'm going to add these words to the start up there...
So close to the answer
of all answers.
Just when I thought
my fingers had closed tight
securing it in my grasp,
it vanished.
My soul screamed
until no more scream was left,
just more of the same
until I find it again
maybe next time
it won't run away.

Sometimes...
in the heart of the night there are no answers
but metaphysical coincidenceses conclude hope

Sometimes it is better to starve
Than to eat anything.
Sometimes it is better to be alone
Than to love anyone.
Sometimes it is better to leave
Than to take what just isn't there.
Sometimes it is better to stay
Than to end up gone.
-------
I'm not sure I understand the last line, well actually the last two.
-------
Maybe I will retract the current title and replace it with...
The Balance of Self Between Them and I. Of course, then it wouldn't be such a simple and trite title. I like to state complex things in a simple way.

Poemetics seminar by C. Scott Symon

-Poemetics For Legal Citizens-
A better you is in his belly, and
you put it there, stud
(or if youre a lady; maam)!

But if you want to see
this better-you-baby
get born,
you gotta get off the toilet,
and come to this seminar!

Hailed as:
"A pretentious splicing of poem and German porn
presented in a parody of manners...
resulting in a wiser, more lovable you...shocking."

-Symon, presenter

Life is a memory of happiness and sadness
A book filled with chapters of laughter and tears
Every joy wrapped in ribbons and every grief marked with torn pages
That remain iin the mind, captured by videos and pictures
Only to recall them them as we begin to wither

It is amazing how a person tries to recall every single detail of their life in the past, the irony is when a person is seriously ill or when they grow old and they will reflect to their past. Z.v.Z.