Best Talc Poems
In snowflakes’ sunlit souls - an amber chest,
orange, yellow, blushing red impassion
resplendent ember hues of stained-glass zest,
vivid vibes enliven snow from ashen.
Inspired bliss of shining kiss on pale snow,
with delicate caresses Sol imbued
highlights to saturate the talc aglow
romancing frosted facets’ fiery mood.
Warm spectrum seeps across the crystal white
as sleepy sunbeams stir the embers’ heart,
igniting jewel tones before twilight
frost bitten festival of arctic art.
Illuminated thrills in chills impress
in ruby rapture sunset's snow does dress.
Susan Ashley
December 31,2017
~ Eighth Place ~
Premiere Contest: Embers and Snowflakes
Sponsor: Anthony Slausen
potpourri of wreaths
splatter night rhinestones with aisles
of gold cashmere talc,
stairways of herons ascend
* sky flooding autumn light bulbs
heaven drips of earth's
elegance, drops of fern boughs
collect hands calmly
chiming psalms of fall's remains *
a mantle bathed by wet stars
(c)Contest of Brian Strand
Jump into pistachio talc
and fly on mists a'sparkle
Dripping off me is butterfly dust
Stand up and you can follow
Dive off the chair you sit in
to streams filled thick with cider
Nap on webs of candied cotton
strung strong by the sugar spider
Open your eyes under water
Catch up with me high in flight
Tether your wings to the sea horse's daughter
as she swims in the moon beams at nights
Sullied clouds fall past the ocean
sleeping on silver tide's arm
Drowsy me now from this butterfly potion
sleeping in ribbons and lavender charm
Imagine the ocean alive
with flutters of wings on the tide
Strip all your preconceived notions
and watch with your eyes open wide
Glisten in green innuendos
Sparkle and shake out your wings
I'm a whisper of water, a glint of delight
taking flight on the brink of impossible things...
Out of the bath, in the mirror, check me
picture of spindly masculinity
talc on the feet, and armpits sprayed
now for the body a choice to be made
Hai Karate or Aramis
both leave the women in a state of bliss
(so the adverts say, yet no such luck
since thus far I have scored a duck)
tight Y-fronts are to my taste
and Oxford bags with a six button waist
big collared shirt in Brunswick green
and a silver kipper tie that looks pretty keen
nylon socks with a couple of holes
in black and red three inch platform soles
jacket in cream, collar up round the neck
with a red and green pattern of tartan check
hair centre parting wet the comb, keep it simple
for a look reminiscent of Anne Boleyn's wimple
out of the door, bemused looks from my Mum
so watch out, ladies- here I come!
( looking back on it now when I hear the old tunes
I can honestly say you've seen better dressed wounds )
1970's: the decade that fashion forgot.
Viv Wigley, to his eternal embarrassment, July 22nd 2015
Somersault, flips and swings like an oar
Cup of salt, flings and stings on floor
Powder of talc, smoothens all
Slides and glides over all
Skip, stretch, turn or twist
Huff, puff like whist
Heart and soul
Fly high
Hop
The mountains of brown covered with green carpet of trees,
When they nod their heads I feel cool winds and breeze,
Every time I ask them to come down, they say no,
All at the same time but how I don’t know,
The mountain peaks serve as seats,
And the passing dark clouds have their meet,
They share their worries for being black,
And shed their tears for a whitening pack,
The cries are loud with copious showers,
They look like beads on the peonies flowers,
Every drop tastes so good,
And the starving arid lands take them as food ,
The land is now fertile and the sapling grows,
As a beautiful pimple young girl face shows ,
From the tender crop to lush green women,
The beauty of which is admired by all breezy men,
Every time the male winds touch,
The greeny women puts her head down to blush,
She dresses herself with scarlet flowers,
And perfumes herself with fragrance talc,
She carries the nectar in her smiles,
For which the drone bees come from miles,
The buzzing honey bees play their bands,
And the pollens dance on the flower bed stand,
The glittering brook sings the song,
And the party goes till the sun is gone,
Now comes the Night lady,
With great beauty and white bindi,
She adorns herself with Lilly and jasmine,
And looks the most beautiful yasmine,
She bends down to see her reflection,
The convex meanders reflects with perfection,
She sings the song of silence,
And waits for her convergence,
This is a beautiful lullaby of summer,
And the nature goes for a peaceful slumber.
endless sky brushes crimson strokes
upon a cloudless Summer void
sea soft to pastel blue benign
robs shore of its sparkling treasure
trees drip opaque tears 'pon sharp blades
of velvet grass stood to attention
queen bee summons dawn's light to blaze
a trail across talc-ed pollen paths
birds drift thermals as if hung
to dry their new inked melodies
whilst lovers lick chocolate from lips
agape for breaths of fantasy
at speakers corner atheists
sing amen to politics' tarnished guilt
as listeners turn a blind eye to memory
We half-hearts cling as scaffold
Mouths of cellophane statements
Morphia inducing as our eyes talc-storm over
Seeing nothing in everything
Like a tank we collide, by the
Edges of a summer vortex pushing as bulimia
It is only the intoxication of drink talking
However, I am yet to take even one mute glass
Empty bottles clutter regardless like rats swan-necked
And corner-slipped like zymotic casings
Speaking slow theremin thunders
Water-washed into neck-delicate walls meeting
Vapour hitting equal to bullets or butterflies
Equations of minus mixed with minus
A downward spiral of blitz-neon roars
Sekt and saxophones hitting like opium
To a rotten core; and I'm sure you remember
If you do then I hate you, and if not you disgust me
How I gave your apple back and
How my Bohemia is your gate
And how my gait is quite unassuming
But again, my sweet heart, it is only a larynx painting the air
With a true-to-type blue-blooded red-devilled roar.
The glimpse of something recognizable; meant seeing her, only see would be with him, and us together had been strained to exhaustion. But maybe the magic of night might give way to forgiveness and love. maybe the need of belonging might have her to wish me as hers again!
the appearance of love
weirded by the tensions
of being stressed.
Strains from obligation
or lack of concern
and desire to satisfy.
What words redraw
the duty of love
the premise
of understanding
to betray his trust
that he might labor
to make treaty
and than be undermined
by her need for attention
and her desire to be
with others.
his lack of commitments
and his eagerness to
control.
Yet the understanding
where his need
to be secured
and have his
woman to be
truthful and precise.
not giving names to
those she don't know
or causing problems
with others
to have clarity and answers
instead of invoking her
naiveness to her man
so that he can assure
his woman.
stressed from situation
they become comedy for
those who know them
and are then easily
made into speckitals
for potential future
meddling
making stories of people
to entertain those
they wish to impress
and make examples of
to cause fear for others.
From the Book " the Spetikal" @021 Written by Cor Da Cacca and P. Yannick.
Why do we meddle in our family members relationships.By Talc Vetiuos and Seager Toopie.
‘WHITE ETERNAL LIGHT’
Talc powder feathered wings, gracefully a white dove brings
Spiritual promises of pacifist mediation, connecting our soul – timeless hope, appreciation
Light of the world, luminosity glow— Heavens majestic rainbow
Chosen by Him in His glorious creation
Resurrected from sin, merciful, pardoning grace from within
Peacemaker, conciliator His gate beckons—a pale glow
The further we enter this truth and life- we advance....grow
The good Shepherd knows His sheep
Our choice, our own to follow... His to keep
This voyage, this life-- trying arduously to walk in Faith and live in Love
A starting place, truelove from above – our crossing passage, spiritual dove
Earthly expeditions become mazes, confusion—battling strife
His soft whisper... draw nearer, I am the way the truth and the life
I Am--He repeats.... I Am, your resurrection into the light
Protected in the palm of my hand- no fear in the darkness of night
My desire is to lavish my love everlasting, celebrating uniqueness of “you”
Simply put, you are my child I am your Father forever true
Thoughts of you are countless as sand on seashore
You signify treasured possession-- never will you yearn for more
Kim van Breda-- February 2013
Yes
Wide eyed
And Oh
So small
Little man
He fits
In both my hands
I still know
How to hold
The little one
"Does it bring back memories"
Her question
Stayed with me
For days
Than weeks
Flowing along
Past
Distant times
In that
Expanse
Of memories
Times four
I explored
Cuddles
Hugs
The first
Fresh
As a field
Of shinning sunflowers
If that's what you call
A Delivery room
Or humidicrib
Does not matter
Those cuddles
Are there
Fresh
As with the smells
Pinetarsol
Talc
Their hair
Blankets
And tears
Reaching
Reaching for up
With hugs
Those pains
Away
Bed time
Hugs
Love you
Never
To much
But one hug
Eludes me
Can't remember
By four
The last
One
The last
Time
I pick up
One of four
For a hug
A ritual
In love
Faded
Without
Within
Fanfare or acknowledgement
A transition
Without notice
Or
A reason to recall
That which
I cannot recall
Until now
So many
Years later
So many years
To late
S S
C
E
N
T
S
I So, Love The Scent, of A Fresh, Cup Of Tea
Like, I Love The Smell, of A Fresh-Bathed Baby
Both, Are So Very Delicate, Soothing & Sweet
Both, Are A Unique, Fragile-Moment Complete
And With Rose Petals and Soft Lavender Scents
And Apple-Blossoms, Honey and Fresh Peppermint
All Come In Lotions Or Talc-Powder For Baby
And In My Teacup, These Aromas Are Tasty
I So Love The Scent of Steeped-Leaf Tea
And A Fresh -Bathed, Gurgling Baby
Come, Sip A Cup of Tea With Me
While I Hold & Sniff The Baby
from your first born, when you grab a dusting of talc, crushed with late night feeds, stirring in bouncing and stories on a knee,
adding a layer of stumbled steps, with a batter thickly made of learning to say “No”, doughy rings of crossed arm tantrums,
glazed slowly with parent’s evenings and bringing first dates home (sprinkled with questions from Dad) before adding candles for sweet sixteens and exam results,
packaged carefully in a ribboned box to protect from life in a university dorm, your tears adding moisture to an increasingly distant mixture,
silver lace can be wrapped around to celebrate a wedding, supporting that newly added layer of Mr and Mrs, matching mortar boards made from icing, surrounded by love heart shaped chews,
you buy an electric whisk when your hands hurt from stirring, still rustling up cookies for grandchildren using grandma’s special sugar, butter and flour,
until you go back to the trusted cookbook, scattering gold dust over fifth birthday cakes, dyed icing and sponge into the colours of a superhero – a grandchild’s eyes bigger than their belly,
your cakes gradually change from pottery to silk, from gold to diamond, for your anniversaries past, you contemplate making a Victoria sponge in black, allow yourself to grieve your husband’s last,
until a great grandchild grins and brings you a cupcake all aglow, revealing a one hundredth birthday candle which is your very own to blow
What is a moth?
I only know flitting shadows
Magnified upon my wall.
In closets and in chests of drawers,
Despite balls that smell of hospitals,
Holes in clothes where they once were.
They dance around my lantern
Made by Coleman, forest green,
To a deep sea diver breathing kerosene.
They’re drawn to candles too.
One misses a beat
And in diaphanous tragedy
Falls to my table top,
A crushed, tropical cocktail umbrella,
Match sticks and news paper mâché.
Its carcass dusts
My hand with mica shininess
As soft as talc.
If everything is wings
And flame, what need
Does this one insect feed?
Scorching heat, undrying sweat
Soothing talc, utmost a better bet.
Ubiquitous sun rays, ushering heat waves
Umbrellas of all types & ultra-sunglasses saves.
Most tiring, more thirst
Munch mangoes & mouthful of melons.
Midday radiation, mounting towers
Mild relief with a/c & coolers, makes it Mindful
Elements of high summer, enveloping around
Evenly breeze, entertain a little in the evenings.
Raising temperatures, restless lives
Rain to pour in, rescue in season.