Words in the journey
Sentences the narration
Distinction with a twist
Emotions add to all of this
Transactional approach
Ernest Hemingway, Famous Writer/Novelist
Some of his works, “For Whom the Bell Tolls, Old Man and the Sea and Farewell to Arms”
Venturing into reader’s hearts and minds exploration
Expectations into what the reader thought only a gesture
From land to the shores being the awareness of breezes circulating the human senses
Aroma of fresh wander, hope and idealistic values
Mr. Hemingway often wrote what he saw and felt
The theory came about as he would travel from Key West to Miami, Florida
He lived in Key West, Florida
4 hours ride from time to time
It would be the Greyhound Bus, and while reclining back in his seat
A Novel that became complete
From the good Earth
Novelist words and sentences connecting the here and there
Revolutionizing extraction
Detail having an awareness factor
Mind and paper of anticipation
Novelist Brew
Greyhound Bus in pursue destination bound.
Words in the journey
Sentences the narration
Distinction with a twist
Emotions add to all of this
Transactional approach
Ernest Hemingway, Famous Writer/Novelist
Some of his works, “For Whom the Bell Tolls, Old Man and the Sea and Farewell to Arms”
Venturing into reader’s hearts and minds exploration
Expectations into what the reader thought only a gesture
From land to the shores being the awareness of breezes circulating the human senses
Aroma of fresh wander, hope and idealistic values
Mr. Hemingway often wrote what he saw and felt
The theory came about as he would travel from Key West to Miami, Florida
He lived in Key West, Florida
4 hours ride from time to time
It would be the Greyhound Bus, and while reclining back in his seat
A Novel that became complete
From the good Earth
Novelist words and sentences connecting the here and there
Revolutionizing extraction
Detail having an awareness factor
Mind and paper of anticipation
Novelist Brew
Greyhound Bus in pursue destination bound.
Left my heart twirling;
whorling in the whirlpool.
Sweethearts a-hanging,
thumbs a-banging sugarplums.
My hair rapunzeling, enraptured,
captured by fairytale-pirating.
My heart as red as an apple,
shining from wax, waxing upon
the sugar-moon, crystalline
catastrophe of high-cheek crimson.
Heart, pleasingly plump, round
in the palm of the beholder.
Bereaving the helplessly bound
breath and palpitations; no rest.
The song of the ages; sages
are mad with platinum platitudes.
Drifting, my soul cascading;
spelunking into recesses
of caverns, cold, distant;
teeny feet fettered, forlorn.
Ferocious waters, funny waters
hold onto the beating with vines.
How divine to let go; let the rapids
take me real slow, circulating
through arteries and veins;
throbbing with sobbing, regress.
Peachy, unpretentious, potent,
progressing to the end of the ride;
calm waters preaching, teal grass
with its daisy chains reaching,
holding me fast in gracious arms,
drying moon-eyes, sagacious.
My heart never needs to lie;
Sincerity is paradisaically prosaic.
Luther Vandross singing Here and Now
Lovers, start your engines
Sensual and smooth
Dance Love to prove
Love mysterious, curious and becoming obvious
Hypnotized in a trance
Kisses from the inner transform
Body touch
Here and there
Propelled on a romantic journey
Mind senses gone wild
Conservations maneuvering into sensual talk
The emotions begin
Kisses upon kisses circulating
Sensations rise
Straight to the mind, heart and soul
Lust prospering into love
Body action
Aroma of affection
Committed and Satisfied
Moist and sweat
Full Control
Held close
Impact
Finale
Kiss me Lover
You were my divine discover
Until our next retreat
Good Night
My dog loses a pound of hair with each step
Buddy is a lovely pet, without a lot of pep
I follow him down the hallway which I just swept
Eighteen clumps of hair circulating make me feel inept
Should I shave the big hairy guy? Would that be bad?
I wade through a swamp of dog fur, it makes me sad
Do we have to eat dog hair in every meal? Asks my husband dear
I pull a clump of loose dog hair off Buddy’s right rear
The Way of Time
Time is the essence of life; it’s the key ingredient
that lies in every heartbeat, an urgency that flows
With every breath we take.
This earthen body experiences life lessons, texting
Its limiting nature, while circulating its last breath.
Once the clock starts ticking, like a Rolex watch,
Any lost tempo in the timeline is a missed opportunity
made unregainable, altering the rhythm of life.
So utilize it wisely by turning mere existence into
A legacy left behind in time.
Take presence as your canvas and paint your
Rembrandt in self-command.
Its value is in its passion, conveying all of life's
colors, emotions, losses, hurts, and sufferings.
Then wrap them up in joyous expectation and
Share them with the world.
Get on the grind; waste no more energy on
Trivialities with no lasting gain.
Overcome obstacles to accomplishment.
Be inclined to make time for your
Prime time as you shine.
Before the curtain closes.
In divine creation:
God took His spirit (time) with the universe,
Man, in His image, used His presence as a gift
To astound the world with your masterpieces.
In an elaborate piece that leaves them all in
disbelief.
INTELLECTUAL CONTEXTS
encoded
anticipated
affinity
emphasised
with
tradition
neutral
collaborative
genres
articular
ambivalent
in isolation
then
deepened
with
representational
certainities
of
avaliable
choice
oscillating
intensely
collaborative
reclusive
concepts
circulating
sessions
to
celebrate
.significant
issues
temporarily
transcending
the confrontational
discussed
yet
introverted
amorphous
expatiations
anticipate
aspirations
in performance
This is not A.I.
Up there in the darken sky
Where astronauts fly
Accomplishing a heavenly ride
Pictures they took
Perfect for the global Instagram scrapbook
Allowing everyone a peek
Admiring the skyrocketing pecking cheek
Isn’t that sweet?
Reflecting upon the spaceship heat
Duet rekindling a romance
And dance
Expressing galactic vows
Circulating the day end bow
Performing a musical tune
Artemis waltzes around the illuminating moon
Ready to depart
Softening the international diplomatic heart
Exclaiming ‘gee’
Both stating ‘do you love me’
Heading home and everybody will see
Sporting Saturn rings
Showing off souvenir bling
Fore who completed a mission
Proving someone’s scientific vision
Life does exist throughout the stars
And we are proud to know who they are
Many thoughts are circulating through my mind
as I'm having fun with gardening games on my piece of land
In a couple of my poems, a couple of my words have been dotted out. Can I use inuendo?
Is it possible for this new poem, could I be partially banned ?
I have no desire to upset established decorum
When I post this latest poem on the Poetry Soup forum
Several of my poems relate to Australian native birds
coincidentally in this poem the bird rhymes with my old nickname DAG
We're often wet as a , or roosting on a rock
I'm referring to a bird I love it's called a shag
How to find the art of living,
how to find the art of love
To find the very art of harmony
circulating from above
Native trees shrubs and tussocks
growing down along the creek
Birds, wallabies, frogs, echidnas,
that's the kind of life I seek
Planting seeds in the garden,
building a wooden fence
It's the nature that surrounds me,
that really makes so much sense
Lying on my back in the sunshine,
watching fluffy clouds go by
Sometimes a wedge tailed eagle
glides across a clear blue sky
Running on the grass bare feet
naked in the warm moist breeze
Exhilaration fills the body,
with so much delighted ease
Found the very art of living,
found the very art of love
Found the very art of harmony
circulating from above
Awakening City
Early morning, still looking for the night, the light
Night city lights are the road signs. Road and shop
Lights. Oh, so friendly lights. I love them. It’s come
From my nightlife. Just walk, walk to the bus stop
Meantime, buy the lunch food in the non-stop shop
This is the morning. always. But every time different
Arriving at the bus stop takes twelve minutes. Gym
Morning walking, moving, oh, blood is circulating
Sun still sleeping, amazing dark the sky, oh, love of life
At the bus stop, people are waiting. Good morning! Smiles
Good to see these ladies and gentlemen again, again
And again in the morning, all the time. I love them
Everyone chooses a bus and goes to work. Actives
Yes. Hmm. Goodbye. All the best, see you tomorrow
Again and again in the morning. Good to see you again
I love you
Wake up
To see
You again
You are here
London is
A dynamic
Metropol
The city
A young crow carries them-
selves meticulously, screening
their surroundings. Too wary
to engage with others, but
always so observant.
A golden jewel shines in a
parking lot corner. Tempting
the young crow’s eyes. Their
bill clutches on, fragile by
nature, it breaks.
Glass shards pierces their
tongue, blood cascades on-
to the concrete as the jewel
dismantles. Remnants of a
once pretty rock remain.
Lackluster caws transcends to
inconspicuous woes through
menacing thunder circulating
the floaters, ignoring their
cries.
Drizzles of rain deafening
continuous yelp, a dash of
salt soaking their insides,
their shadow scatters
far away.
My Confession and Request
to Someone
A sin is circulating over me, hanging our life, gallows
Someone needed love, only some dust of and from love
A touch from you is just a hoped kindness from your heart
… where is that? Mine is single and can’t recognize your heart
I am walking on a snowfield without your arms, no embrace
that’s why I am a walker, looking, looking, and searching for love
I needed to drop my bloody heart in front of your legs to love life
Dig a hole for… and put in the deep this stone heart, and forget that
This unmarked grave is the seal on our non-existent infinite love
December eats whatever fat
the wind carries with it.
You imagine the windows, the drapes,
all rounded and curved,
no sharp corners in this ocean of you.
Short-lived circulating thoughts
glimmer and fade,
minnows darting from nowhere
to nowhere.
Your body-heat, fish-tails over
dark waves.
The cold is still too deep,
a dim dawning shore
still too far above you,
and so, you rise slowly
in the hollow shell
of a diving bell
you have yet to call your own.
A little Tot so excited
Couldn’t sleep
Tried to even count sheep
The thought of Reindeers circulating deep
The anticipation of Santa’s arrival
Santa’s motto, “You better not cry nor pout”
The Tot’s reality check, he better go to sleep
Otherwise, Santa will bypass his house and skip
Santa’s tip
As the night went on, the little tot finally gave in and went into deep sleep
The Holiday night and the stars, sleep tight
Christmas morning arrived, and the little tot rushed downstairs and looked under the Christmas Tree of the presents that were left by Santa
The little Tot was so excited, he had to open the gifts right away
He saw all kinds of gifts such as a passenger plane, a small Remote Robot, a toy Greyhound bus and more
Full of joy
Playing with toy after toy
A Christmas uplifted for the little tot to enjoy
Sub Categories
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