Walking on her way to class
she developed poison ivy
Chants of ‘Kill the Jews’ – crude and crass
have now replaced in 'Crimson’s yahd’ *
~ ‘Ya pahk ya cah at Hahvahd?’
________________________________
*Havard's nickname is 'The Crimson.'
Also, Harvard is right next to Boston,
where they don't pronounce their 'r's,'
and many 'a's' sound like the 'a' in
'father.'
The great big oak tree casts off his coat while the rest of us put ours on,
Throwing down the golden-brown piles of spiky leaves,
A dance floor for the couple everyone’s talking about.
It’s their time now, their time in the pallid sun!
And sure, Holly might make a scene, berry-ripe in snow, like children’s faces,
But her slender partner really steals the show.
Ivy’s green, she winds, she twists, she makes her place secure – winds both ends at one go.
And oak and ash don’t mind her creeping up and down – they know.
They know as well as you and I
That when the summer’s in the sky
And flowers are all in bloom,
Ivy dies before the trees. Her time comes all too soon.
POTD~
In the misery of a paler grey nightfall
she blinks like citrine glazed along walls,
Ivy of Boston flaunts her shimmer without guilt
as palette of amber claims her lustrous glides
slithering with her bohemian lift,
rosette flesh blushing in chilled breeze.
Social climber this paramour, whirling
among plants wanton wild ,
trickles of mist freckle palms of curled leaves-
stem for stem-- translating the language of time,
of how branches relish herbage flow
as my wet hands paddle my dusky breaths
through mid-evening's freeze.
How her alchemy draws gasping sighs
more red than red could ever tease,
and that gypsy's heat...leaving mortals
in awe-...that her fluid pose seems to jut out
from a glass frame to rush forth with all
her womanly senses gushing, snaking,
writhing in the middle of ghastly, boney winter
meant to return on the edge of wild abandon,
enticing men with her faceted charm
never ever the same each time.
Fingertips etched and wrapped,
white knuckled, yet steadfast -
the journey never finished because
...there is no destination
except the next brick or perhaps
EGO?
What then, when there are no more
"electives"?
"Alexander wept, because there were
no more worlds to conquer".
So thus, the tendrils, naked and burdened,
circle back,
their vines and blossoms celebrated,
while the sacrificed - those who cling and die
go unnoticed...
Rockin' tough
Rockin' touch
Rocket rock star's
Still in love
Hallowed halls of
Doobie's lair
The Sunset Gang
Played air band there
Mr. Salty
Zimmer-cam
Winkles and
The Ramel's jam
Wildman
Screaming Me
Pounded sounds
On Adams Street
Check us out
On cable TV
It's Sticks Rambo
and Company
Again its
Nineteen Eighty Three
Tough times I'm glad
Ready to face the hardest
The more times we had
Less sweat to walk the farthest
Your love is a needle in the ocean
Unforeseen yet attract my wisdom
Upon this savvy heart full of emotion
Never was I succumb of your ivy venom.
Interwoven in my happiness
Are threads of doubt
The way the ivy on the neglected window
Keeps the sunshine out;
I can trim away the ivy
And make the windows clear
If I can climb to the top of the ladder
From way down here;
Even with the window clear
I'll be on the outside looking in -
The view is so limited
And it's where everyone else has been;
Gotta' get off the ladder
And get back inside -
But with this crystal clear view
Won't I miss the threads of ivy?
Remember that leaves of three,
means you better let them be;
Don’t get a rash on your ass,
using the wrong type of grass,
when in the woods you have to go pee.
The ivy plant, green and bold hugging the
Iron gate
Guards the dwellers within
Unaware tho they might be
The midnight visitor, well acquainted with
Ivy
Deposits fresh fertilizer as the luxurious
Leaves, intricately intertwined
Provide purposeful seclusion for Ivy's friend
Unseen by the horrific, harassing
Talon-fanged
Great Horned Owl
A good and faithful friend, Ivy
Covered deep in
Poison Ivy
A rash that spreads
and burns
Its toxic mass
left festering
With younger minds
to churn
What used to be
a noble cause
Malingers
in disease
Whose vines grow wild
to trap the dark …
That once were climbed
—to free
(The New Room: December, 2023)
COMMON was it growing up from grounded poverty
Ominous was the task; that it approached with glee
Monumental; the first rung on an iron ladder would be
Making its way; climbing would not always be; sunny
Over time, this world; this way; driven to near insanity
Now, though, looking back; It has earned a legacy
It spread from post to post; life was not a gimme
Vigorously working at that point; if it died right there, no one would miss me
Years it would take; growing up life's trellis before saying goodbye to this IVY
You and I, we are,
two polar petals, laced with
arctic blue moonshine
of soft sweven-hymns
and sunburst apricity
of aqua-gold tides,
reminiscing mauve
hours, when our love waltzed in teal
faithful lakes hued with
ivory ink of
coral kismet, shimmering
in wine-auroras,
but now we just trace
poisoned pixie-dust, upon
each other's frail fate,
sinking in folklores
of shaded red canopies,
as I bleed stardust
in ebonies of
hellfire heavens and we fade
like smoked-ash comets;
for you and I, are
we Hemlock and ivy, swathed
in swan-shaped ballads,
floating like hail on smudged graves?
In my earthy, sad and waterless heart
I was caught in the trap of danger
In this sea of ??passion, my only ship
Wrapped in your thoughts, I am waiting for you
Khazan's dream was a light in my heart
Your hijran drowned the heart in the sea
Dreams are gone, memories are gone
In the dark of the night, I worry
The knot of this puzzle cannot be solved by hand
From now on, the knots should be taken to the teeth
In the dark of the night, I worry
In this deafening silence, I will not try without you
Peace was in my hands, lost, now I wander
Although you are not in my hand, you are still in my heart
In your sorrow, I have given my heart to the rain
With the laughter of the sun, a light fell from the sky
I found in your arms, the lost path of love and life
Forever with you, in front of the eternal sun
I'm stuck in memories, I didn't get free
What can I do without you at this time? I do not know
english ivy
decorates front yard....
rattlesnake
She buried the bodies down by the orchard grove
It's so pretty in spring
You just gotta go
The flowers grow tall
When the sun goes low
You gotta go
She didn’t kill him just for fun
No fun was had that day
He had the looks that said okay
It was just his mouth
That did betray
She was just an easy lay
The years rolled by
And time forgot
All until that day
The storm unearthed
What was buried
Down by orchard grove
He pushed her awake
Gave her the news
Something about orchard grove
They found dead people down there
Wasn’t that the place
You left in disgrace
She laughed
He had the looks that said okay
It was just his mouth
That did betray
She killed him quick
Burying him next to pear tree, Rick
Sometimes late at night
They come back to say hello
Some scream indignity
Others scream hell no
It was like having good friends around the stove
The bodies buried down by orchard grove.
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