> A three line verse is next. I'll keep this going.
> You never know how long this might get some day. It
> would be interesting to see a social poem continue
> to go on and on for some time with different verses
> interjected by numerous people. We've probably had
> at least 8 different people put verses into this
> poem so far. Sometimes an individual gives a verse
> (a
> three line or a two line depending on the turn), and
> then
> others give a verse, then somebody that already gave
> a verse gives another verse somewhere down the poem
> and it grows. It's not a story. It's based on
> renga,
> the roots of haiku. Static, dynamic steps.
>
> Ok... a three line verse is next.
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
> The bright moon,
> the wind moves leaves -
> geese not seen.
>
> Flight across the pond, well met
> A being bigger than names
>
> raindrops on the roof
> dead leaf oceans scattering
> who knocks at the door?
>
> Weeping willow, strong old oak,
> fire dancing from ancient skies.
>
> Fresh sweet cool air
> Solid comfort
> Deep stillness within the rush
>
> Here..., It..., Is..., desiring,
> galaxies, and swollen breasts.
>
> the wind stirs
> sick, achy, resting
> quiet sun shines
>
> Change flowers in the wanting
> Petals inform beauty, grace
>
> In milky way embrace
> Lustful Impassioned ethereal whisps
> Of angels breath in starry skies
>
> Nothing, her darkness shining,
> words unwritten, waves unseen.
>
> Her hair hung lovely as
> the autumns dusk,
> Her eyes dark almonds
>
> ...by a neurosurgical stroke so fine
> I find myself completely out of my mind..
>
> clouds and blue,
> earth dripping cold water
> - Get over it now!
>
> Laughing, calling, babbling,
> this river flows well.
>
> unseen beneath trees
> flowing ocean
> of Glowing tune of autumn
>
> dreaming of approval, approval, approval
> the starving child who never sleeps
>
> on my PC,
> hours pass like minutes pass like seconds on my PC.
> my childs weeping in his sleep
>
> Leaf drops overhead
> - I move out of the way.
>
> Into a future without flow,
> under a sky no longer blue,
> but with its calling no less true.
>
> I wrote for you then, like Cyrano,
> Words I would never speak.
>
> the autumn leaves pile by the door
> I almost hear the rustle of her dress
> how can I bring my aching heart to rest
>
> Skin is green, wart on her nose,
> bitchy as hell, has webbed toes.
>
> one gray squirrel now five,
> stomach fur, snow lays, teeth push,
> - more white by the moment!
>
> a preview of things to come,
> as the dog takes in the heat.
>
> Cold night, cold light,
> thoughts falling from the trees.
> Wind chimes, rabbit rhythms, dancing sea.
>
> reborn now, chimeric, chameleonic
> a goddess, she thought was she
>
> Poetic stereotypes, often called tropes,
> Include things like women, graphic pain,
> and darkness.
>
> On the edge of a long fall,
> breathing you, memory and dream.
>
> Creativities code...
> Art must do!
> What art does!
>
> in this quietness
> - what ya doin'!
>
> island of senses, She sighs,
> Isness shines and sings,
> slowly to See. Ecstasy...
>
> Is your world stale?
> Colors, poems - beautify!!!!
>
> When I die, let it be
> calling for Her.
> Ma, Mother of all names.
>
> Small hand searching for treasure.
> Placing it on your heart. There!
>
> Giggle the time scale and rocks roll.
> Mountains, crumble and erode
> The fractal forms of valleys flow
>
> All things cleave and shatter
> Zoom in, Zoom out, refocus.
Night smoke smelled
Chimney's burning long
- snow is icy.
____________________________________________________________________________________
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