Best Motioning Poems

Inspired by Andrew Wyeth Watercolor Painting -- Wind From the Sea, 1947




Standing in the old house
A strange mixture of feelings erupt within me
My roommates Depression, Loneliness, and Hopelessness
Greet me with strangling arms and leering grins
I don’t fight them anymore – somehow they are a part...

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Their mere weapon was their forbidden courage, hands barren with  no armaments, no ammunitions, marching towards the proud valley of death, dedication born from their sempiternal dreams of a free land. 

Their bare weapon was their incessant patriotism integrated  under a sensitise unique...

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"May I?" she asked motioning to my dog-eared notepad as a child might
asking for a cookie expecting to be told it would spoil her dinner
I took another swallow, my hand instinctively moved to the book 
to protect it or keep her from disappointment, maybe both

"It’s...

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You didn’t notice my tears.

As you both kissed each other
like two lonely plungers
who just escaped from plumber’s solitary confinement,
your eyes open and wander up.

You didn’t look across that banquet hall
with my feet planted against wood polished tendencies.

Its creaks motioning time towards yellow-signal identity.

As my breath...

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after Ivan's wake, later that night while I slept,
 I had a dream..........

suddenly! I was in a parking garage below ground,
it was dark and oil-greasy, I was standing near a car,
a big old four-door

 and on the other side of the car   ...

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Winter approached 

in hours of finality, 

quelled midst midnight's 

imperfectly lit enticement 

of darkly notable

impressive spirits, 

motioning a welcomed 

goodbye gesture, 

laying to rest 

a chilled salutation, 

as ghostly ambitions 

commenced to play 

a well articulated

empowering seduction, 

chasing lullaby's softly

dreamt enchantment, 

sleeping peaceably

unfurled beyond

destined reawakening,...

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He was howling at the moon,
it was mid June's heyday, she
was naive beyond reproach
her innocently lit chiaroscuro 
made him hunger all the more,
til one day she let down her guard
'neath an impatient violaceous sky
drinking effervescently blissed wine 
kissed him with rosé  blushed lips 
...

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i've seen it several times
someone motioning, flourishing
waggling, swinging, curving
hunching, moulding, stooping
pulling shapes, a twirling
a form, a delineation, shadows
fingers, tree branches, winding creeks
sometimes a head inclines 
obstructing the cityscape
what are they listening to?
what are they talking about?
we've done it, we've become greenwood
sometimes a jungle
i've done it...

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Maddening thought to process such a word
Mad definition defining more than anger
Mad upset feeling fever flushed climatic danger
Mad mangled minor class offense verse major
Madly suggestive messages a madden proclaimer
Mad made digestive mental notes selective 
Madder matters making moves motioning more
Minds mad capacities hijacking brains plane
Mad...

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Note: If you haven’t please check out part 1 and 2 
before reading this. It will make more sense that way Thanks.

"May I?" she asked motioning to my dog-eared notepad as a child might
asking for a cookie expecting to be told it would spoil her...

Continue reading...

Inspired by Andrew Wyeth Watercolor Painting -- Wind From the Sea, 1947




Standing in the old house
A strange mixture of feelings erupt within me
My roommates Depression, Loneliness, and Hopelessness
Greet me with strangling arms and leering grins
I don’t fight them anymore – somehow they are a part...

Continue reading...

The evenings breeze moves the curtains, 
ever slowly,
motioning to the world their compliance.
Behind them hides the moon,
rising,with clouded scattered light,
like a flock of birds frightened by thunder.
On the table, a candle with smoke lifting upward,
after being snuffed out
curtains parting, the moon's soft light,
an empty wine...

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And the exhausting calamity of the twinkling snow
Frozen solid and thawing beneath the sky
Of gray turns to the palest of blue
With the sun so glistening gently by its rays

And the past flows like a shadow through the mist
Sparkling dew of spring’s once lonely gaze
For then...

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I heavily recall two times when I had made you cry,
Both of which bewildered and moved me
My response was that of disbelief, and regret
And never, upon recalling, 
Have I felt more of the need to address these moments

We were young, certainly, tied together by our...

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Only little black girl at  school and her white friends admired her ‘tan’ 
–“I'm brown all over” she told them, proudly motioning to all her body.  
But skin color can be an issue
 I remember the back of the bus-
although we rarely rode...

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