shadows draw across the canvas
with light oily strokes and dry wet soul
the white pythons and black mambas
conspire as their tongues slither and roll
down the canvas.
like honey, it marinates the mellow white
bruising it with time… yet as the honey lathers
and the white bathes, the paint stops with all its might
leaving behind the canvas
with monotone delight and black and white
then it cries as it bleeds like Danvers
watching its Hyde as he flees at the sight
as though his Hyde has a right
for leaving the canvas in black and white
the shadows of black and white
dissipate at the sorrow, at the pain
at the rain that washes the black and white
away.
Leaving behind the canvas
and time.
Categories:
marinates, identity, introspection,
Form: Lyric
Poets mute muse dreams
Strumming Earth's echoes to life
Soul marinates ink
Nature's strings compose sweet tunes
Vintage leaves dance like heartbeats
Categories:
marinates, autumn, nature, poetry,
Form: Tanka
Roots of memory battered by erosion
a tempest that edits thought
Aunt Em fears "stupidity's spread"
her words for Alzheimer's
she sometimes babbles like a baby blowing bubbles
She knows her husband's philandering
His escape from gibberish accusations
His exit door, unashamed
"Can you just shut up for once!"
His words that hammer the air
That throb through her thoughts
My Aunt Em
unbracketed
depression that marinates
that simmers in disillusion
The delicacy of her mind
string tied balloon
that drifts away in night
to what's imagined and unseen
breaching all her walls
detachment's silent
branching
Poem composed: June 1, 2021
Contest: Open Poetry (5)
Sponsor; Charlotte Puddifoot
Categories:
marinates, anger, betrayal, conflict, leaving,
Form: Free verse
Like the reprint of heaven by Gods own mercy,
I’m still in this moment, briefly stolen by these mint chimes,
Ever so silk and supple as remarked by these ears.
Forgive my drag back, back to mature rum.
When I hear current tones, I’m aware that it creeps, creeps on drone memory.
The mundane assumptions of classic art.
I pity these lost animals,
Feeding off that sound that pleases bowel, not soul movement.
For I have I found and romanced this mistress ever so often by the most highs manifestation of pressing back.
Sexier than the thought of a woman before she is spoiled,
I pray these dulcet forms never sue my repeat, never accuse me of stealing their time.
I apologize for I am a thief, a smooth criminal forced to breath these jagged misfits and immature phrases. I will continue this larceny with the rhythm of glee and jazz to seduce.
To my reader I would hope you’d come on and go with me ever so subtly as this Sade marinates. As the end nears by the devils jealous rear, remember this songs tender warning. Press play now but rewind for a lifetime.
Categories:
marinates, dream, metaphor, music, romantic
Form: Free verse
Do you see the dissension within my eyes?
I stumble throughout this feverishly manipulated age
The minds of children are enslaved by their reflective masters
We yearn to destroy what Reason had painstakingly divulged
My intention marinates in this silence
I deafen its egregious cries
This past will not pass
While the mirror mocks my demons and I
My once lively will recedes beneath my synapses
These demons wonder why they still wander
With two eyes, I had to see too much
Indeed, I sold their sense of solace
Our lives are fevered dreams
Unspoken in their indignant dejection
Filled with volition, we reap what we sow--
Imprudently awaiting our own funerals...
Categories:
marinates, america, imagery, loneliness, society,
Form: Free verse
Unable to let feelings come to just slide by,
all poets feel life in tender seeing eyes.
Life marinates in a poet's empathy-rife heart,
to then cradle lay emotion in their core
until every angle of feel has been stored.
All a poet reality-feels is written unconcealed
as is somehow required of and for their zeal.
If a poet lives it, they give it deliberate depth
for such is essential to their very breath.
Poets wear a same colored, large-sized bruise
from years of hearing devastating world news.
New's blues lights many a poet's tender fuse.
Empathy demands a poet's sympathy clarity.
Poets take from piles of desperate density
to hopefully give it credible, helpful intensity.
Love, birth, death, life's complexities and simplicities
charge poetic awe, humor and emotional flexibilities.
... CayCay Jennings
May 8, 2018
Categories:
marinates, character, desire, feelings, muse,
Form: Rhyme
Many memories of my mother
making moist mellow macaroons
marshmallows and Madeira cake,
minuscule madeleines, marvellous,
mum measures, marinates, melts,
more majestic meals.
My matriarch makes,
marmalade,
marzipan,
muffins,
mincemeat,
meringue.
mousse.
My meritorious mom mixes, merges, mingles,
melon,
mango,
mulberries,
Mandarins.
My maternal materfamilias, masterminds
Mealtime masterpieces.
Categories:
marinates, food, fruit, mother,
Form: Alliteration
RECIPE: "Poulet Roti" French Style - Le Chant Royal (Instalment 2)
Stanza I
COQ knows best how to pluck the wayward chicken
Quill by feather each pock-mark telltales French skill
Twisted beck wan crooked claws warts on bruised skin
Thus MARIANNE marinates asylum swill
Let filter no known friends through the Internet
Dog ev'ry step the chicken takes e'en secret
Day and night confine the bird to its cramped coop
And there make the migrant crowd damn nincompoop
Morning day or mid of night drill his ears through
Lace marinade with acid sauce Injun soup
Let the World know how well chicken basks in stew
ENVOI
Sol de France franchi! Terre d'Asile! O! What scoop!
Trumpet the news! Co-co-ri-co! Got'im in coop!
Un-wifed maimed sucker son root for Great Chef crew
Asylum-marinade French cuisine's top soup
Let the World know how well chicken basks in stew!
© T. Wignesan - Paris, 2017
Categories:
marinates, bullying, french, paris,
Form: Ballade
African war drums being beaten, baby hippos being aggressively eaten, be aware of your surroundings, for you never know when the predators peeping, life has so many facial features, hyenas run the jungle, while the lions are sleeping, she was healthy yesterday-n- sick on her death bed by the weekend, we were in love, now we’re not speaking, -n- beefing for a stupid ass reason, pain marinates life, while happiness adds its own different seasoning, we all bleed -n- breathe in oxygen, we’re all surviving to fit in, thy souls are gorgeous winds listening, to the whispers of our posthumous friends, relationships patiently waiting to end, life has so many facial features, so face the features, life, hate, love, death, all features, for us pulsating creatures, waiting on the unknown, it’s an end when God reveals his secrets.
Categories:
marinates, god, journey, life, nature,
Form: Free verse
lubed flesh marinates
ocean spray greases white flesh
sunbaked bodies steam
Categories:
marinates, nature
Form: Haiku
As this city sleeps
I give you open arms with more to keep
Now I'mma make you beg for mercy
As you would have me do
As the home crowd marinates and laughs at you
Even though the man is deaf I still say excuse me
I respect him as he was in place to abuse me
I laugh, I smile, in hopes that they won't
A gasp, a given child, whom copes when they don't
I've had this mark since birth
But it's so not a birth mark
I think it's a hurt spot, a dirt art
I feel like I died
Like I'm buried alive
The truth is I feel like I'm tired
Like I'm barely alive
Now my eyes are red
Heavy, Lively
Just a little past dead
A meal past bread
As this city sleeps
It dreams of a scene
A peaceful place in defeat
Categories:
marinates, life, music, peace, sad,
Form: I do not know?