Winged words of milk chocolate melody
Her gift of soul of ruby song rang
Inside me like charismatic cherry cobbler-a blackberry bell
That pure poetic power
Never will another fuchsia flower
Envelope our hearts with Whitney's divine uniqueness
You are healed, perfected diva, by The Potter Who made you
Visited the Whitney*
For the Hoppers – what a treat!
A gathering of works with which
Few artists can compete.
Yet in a separate little room
A different treasure lay –
A film of “Calder’s Circus”
With its figures on display.
For Alexander Calder,
He of mostly-mobiles fame,
Put together, out of wire,
And deserving of acclaim
Every animal and acrobat
That we’d expect to see
At a circus, bringing them to life.
(At least, he did for me.)
With a twinkle in his eye,
He made the dogs and horses prance,
While the trapeze artists flew
And Fanni did her sexy dance.
There’s an elephant and lion
And a strong man and some seals,
Every figure bringing laughter
And how-did-he-do-that squeals.
Though I went to see the Hoppers,
I was thrilled with them, despite
Thinking Calder’s wire circus
Brought to me the most delight.
*The Whitney Museum of Art, Manhattan,
which currently has an Edward Hopper exhibit.
***
What lies in this?
Are my ears betraying me? My eyes?
Is time betraying me that I have lived?
Crazy creation,
So noble while not young in vain,
At times, shouts the right words
In an ecumenical uproar.
For whom? For the self?
I would like to make the cut where you are,
Look into the insane eyes,
Not move a bit where others are raving,
And holding my awe, self-annihilate.
***
Euthanised all.
Whole.
Paralysed .
Things that don’t concern you,
I will throw.
It’s you
I want to afford .
Wish clever nape
To my fingers to grant .
coffee Whitney
my coffee
morning delight
all day long
not though at night
can not sleep
afternoon coffee
leads to nightmares lasts all night
writing.com Whitney poem form
Get thee to the Whitney!
It’s the one thing you should do
If you’re in New York, to see
The kitchen made by Liza Lou.
It’s a life-sized recreation
Of a room each person needs,
But the fridge and stove and table
Have been topped with shiny beads.
Every detail’s been considered
In constructing what you’d find
In an average household’s kitchen
And amazingly designed.
There’s the Tide and there’s the Comet,
Cap’n Crunch and Frosted Flakes,
Cherry pie still in the oven
Muffin tin with little cakes.
On the sink that’s full of dishes
There’s the plastic yellow Joy
Plus a broom and dustpan waiting
For a housewife to employ.
It took five long years to finish
Setting every bead in place
But the final product’s something
Every person can embrace.
So if visiting the city,
Take my word and find your way
To a very cool museum
With this kitchen on display.
Is there any place as lonely
As a Lake Huron resort town
In the off-season of mid-November?
Sign outside the church reads THANK YOU!
Its steeple a record player needle
Set to the warped sky
Barry Manilow ballads
Hobbling from an A.M. station that’s all but given up
It’s just me and a delivery truck
On Route 23
Toddling along as a pair between Oscoda and Whitney
Two boys up there in beards and their 20s
Passing a joint in their rearview mirror
Deer season opens soon.
Who needs a passing lane this late afternoon?
Lake Huron is bristle as elephant skin
Oil jacks pumping in the stalks of corn
Like slot machine handles looking for a pull of luck
But the Big Boy’s been closed for longer than that
The fat boy in his checkered apron
His hand raised to an empty tray
Like the iron flame from the Statue of Liberty
His indefatigable grin still waving me in
From the parking lot mixed of dust and dirt
Next door to the Riptide Motel
Sign reads YOU’RE WELCOME
She was a songbird like no other
Her light, her fire, drugs did smother
The impact addiction had on her, tragic
But whenever I hear her on the radio, magic
Date written and posted: 10/14/2018
~Beautiful Sunrise~
( Whitney Double )
Sunrise shines
Appears again
Spreads around
Cover mountains
Sea, above
Clouds softly pass
A band of seagulls fly high
The air's cool
And the sun's warm
Delightful
Wonderful spring
Warms my heart
Songbirds sings
His love shines upon my face.
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2012
December.13.2017
“Kindness is a language which the deaf can hear and the blind can see.”
- Mark Twain-
~Author's Notes:
The "Whitney" is a syllabic poetry form or style, that was created by Betty Ann Whitney.The "Whitney" is also known as an American Asian Poem.
half a heart,
my belongings
in this cracked
old leather case.
through greener
path on earth I
wonder this to disappear.
9/5/2017
seven lines with a syllable pattern 3/4/3/4/3/4/7
Destiny
Carries its dreams
Encased in
Crumpled leather
Awaiting
Fate’s trembling touch
Old hands clutching a promise
9/5/2017
submitted to WHITNEY 2 – Poetry Contest
I wander
In barbed circles
Seeking grace
In faux distance-
Looking back
In wry dismay…
My baggage has followed me
WHITNEY 2 - Poetry Contest
~05 Sep 2017~
'A Suited Soul'
Left behind
A tortured mind
Life confined
A Love declined
Left to rest
Days dusty dressed
Love gone wrong a soul compressed.
Sept.05.2017
WHITNEY 2
Sponsored by: nette onclaud
I left him
my suitcase full
I ran fast
but he followed
and found me-
I had to HIDE
trembling with closed eyes, "I prayed"
__________________
September 5, 2017
Whitney Verse/HELP
Copyright Protected, ID 937527
Written for the contest, Whitney 2
sponsor, Nette Onclaud
Fourth Place
In a field
Lies all our hopes
Ancient case
Filled with pure gold
Opens hard
With old latches
The dreams of a lifetime sits
Whitney 2 Contest
Written September 5th, 2017
Verse
3/4/3/4/3/4/7 syllable count
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