Tag: mystery
member name: Laura M.
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May 09, 2007 03:07 PM EDT --
Dedicated To My Poet:John F. Walter
Silent passages' incomplete trills
stir within the presence of pigments.
Dreamtime backstages foreshadow
unwinged lifelines seeking
siren . . .
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August 05, 2007 12:24 PM EDT --
Dedicated To My Poet: John F. Walter
Enchanted, wayward tracings of her name
divine thousands of years
into hermetic mysteries,
taunt gardens with fleshy blooms
blushing on thorny . . .
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May 02, 2007 10:11 PM EDT --
To Barbary Chaapel,
My Mermaid's MIrror
Sun's mediations startle facades' sheened stories,
indistinct memory fondling light on the other side,
panes . . .
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September 30, 2007 12:27 PM EDT --
Take me, with stanza's silent beckoning.
Shiver me; quiver quill for cravings more
than hushes feathered for some reckoning
tumble, to white ebb and flows' fingered shore.
. . .
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October 07, 2007 08:03 PM EDT --
Dedicated To The Stars Up Above-
Everything I Ever Needed To Know
I Learned From Them Long Ago
In A Sleeping Bag Full Of Dreams
Sacred spheres within spheres
diversify containments'
oscillating . . .
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February 26, 2007 03:18 PM EST --
Dedicated To My Poet: John F. Walter
The tendency allows visibly beautiful parallels-
my purple velvet dress, admired by Captain Kangaroo,
"Who is that pretty girl in the back...?", . . .
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April 12, 2007 02:54 PM EDT --
You never see the Muse
sneaking through your gaps,
a witness' quiet murmur chased
through night's reflections,
deepest in the last dreams
before sunrise melts into a careless . . .
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March 29, 2008 01:25 PM EDT --
Dedicated To My Dearest Friend, Nickki Lee Hill.
Her tresses tame lofty lechery
into treasured myth, temptation
to hone her curves from linear design,
masting sails . . .
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March 18, 2007 03:51 PM EDT --
Dedicated To My Poet: John F. Walter
Our extensions fathom beyond
any inferred gaping abyss, like wild oaks'
cavorting veins, carving skies'
unfinished patterns, forming . . .
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October 06, 2007 11:31 AM EDT --
Dedicated to John Beck, with gratitude for his beautiful poems and inspiring comments.
Changing form at will,
breathy footprints relinquish
unstable moments' manifest
voice from . . .
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October 13, 2007 12:50 AM EDT --
This Is Dedicated To Someone
It just came to me
to Be, again, when
you almost no longer imagined
my impossible moves
with too much belief.
Within and without our labyrinths' . . .
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February 20, 2008 10:34 AM EST --
Dedicated To The Inner Fires Of Ludolf Grolle de Rochefort
A continuing dialogue between question-and-answer
images, tailspins to head off from golden "fetish", . . .
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February 22, 2006 03:57 PM EST --
How would we, should we ever meet?
Perhaps dancing backwards
Teasingly shadowed
Against stone walls
Breezewaves
Of sheer skirts
Blowing to the applause
Wildflower
Hugs of . . .
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October 17, 2007 11:54 AM EDT --
Dedicated To Amy George, Angel Of These Gathered Flocks
Punishing wind, rain, salt
spray, on the headlands.
No idyllic calm
so rare in days
now, as convoluted streams
thrash aching coastlines, . . .
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February 25, 2006 02:21 PM EST --
Awaken
Invert your gaze
A fuschia might then rise
To greet the moon.
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April 21, 2006 01:08 PM EDT --
An encrypted inhalation
releases a goddess' murmurs,
posed in raw rumblings
of secreted birthrites.
As rising steam torrents tickle
purple cloudtrails of exhumed . . .
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November 17, 2006 04:40 PM EST --
Dedicated To The Poet Who Inspires My Mermaid's Tail and Tales,
And Composes Magical Word Seas For My Ecstasy: John F. Walter
arching before wordless swirls
reawakened from her moans, . . .
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January 20, 2007 03:08 AM EST --
Dedicated To My Cherished Friend, Will Evans,
(with apologies for always mis-reading myself into his poems)
Spirited aesthetics shape constellations’
starry windows on windows, spinning . . .
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March 08, 2007 01:11 PM EST --
Dedicated To Goddess-Healed Hearts
And My Poet: John F. Walter
Disease of the two sides;
gifting divine forgiveness for unbroken faith
in designs that always claim the daylight's . . .
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December 12, 2007 10:22 AM EST --
Dedicated To J. Rushmore, For His Curvaceous Inside-Out Word Thrusts
Abalone-flecked, mischief
wriggles free from ancient bones'
uncluttered salty myth. Shells . . .
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