Archive for category Poetry
She Said… Chick-Peas?
Posted by iAreConscious in Blog, Poetry on July 16, 2010
So you decide to return to doing something you haven’t done for years, for me that’s poetry. What’s the piece you do first? I only figured that out once I sat down on that tiny stool in front of my audience. The poem, “Chick-Peas” is probably one of my favorites. I enjoy the reaction from those that get it immediately as well as those that catch on after a while. It’s actually deeper than you think. For some still I must explain it, and that’s just fine, gives me a reason to engage and open up possibilities for future conversation. This video is for all you that couldn’t make it out and those that wonder what I actually look and sound like doing a piece. Enjoy.
forget it, no matter
Posted by iAreConscious in Poetry on June 27, 2010
under bus been thrown
by best of friend
but… no scars
rejected possibility
of
travel with
baggage, beneath the charter
destination met.
new, wardrobe in order
i left issues behind
to dry on line
shrivel up in sun
and crumble, to dust
particles,
blowing in wind
meeting rain
water droplets
puddle then
wash the past
away…
as they say
it’s all
water… under a structure built to span a valley, road, body of water, or other physical obstacle, for the purpose of providing passage over the obstacle.
gracious wiki
waiting…
Posted by iAreConscious in Blog, Poetry on June 21, 2010
her eyes,
in cropped-circles…
(she) alien, to losing hope
will not rest
till
her ship
docks…
a poem named ‘dis-comfort’…
Posted by iAreConscious in Blog, Poetry on June 18, 2010
things were fuzzy…
…warm
a bit floaty,
she asked a ?
i fell ten notches…
i sorta answered.
- silence
…climbed back up 5
getting warm again,
till she interrupted…
__________
dropped down 7even
heaven out of sight
clouds raining up
a broken conversation…
porcelain cracked,
destroyed the good china
now we eat off of paper plates
nother poem… this 1 bout feet
Posted by iAreConscious in Blog, Poetry on June 12, 2010
with blue and yellow ponies,
wearin down from overuse…
abused toes complain only occasionally
of pins n needles
need to be soaked
the feet
integral part of important
movements while standing
like, work & dancing
the blessed pumice stone
refreshing, sea salt baths
perfect oils…
a smooth foot, is a happy one
ready for more abuse…
life marathon,
glutton for punishment
victory is… slightly raised,
above ground,
for rest.
a poem…
Posted by iAreConscious in Blog, Poetry on June 10, 2010
for moments
in touching lines of proud.
till dusk asks for answers of where about
we’ve been.
in sun’s shine and glory,
the shadows cast long, a frightful day-mare,
prolonged by curiosity…
obvious we love train wrecks,
an affinity to depth.
steps in still water…
famished while sweating,
our art imitating life, contradicts
The etching…
drawing wind,
tasting the sound of it…
exposing truth to darkness.
being silent
tells us more than
libraries burned to keep us from the
knowing, rather impossible…
we do.
already have learned.
just, memory fails us each for now.
A poem by my friend Evelyn Arthur…
Posted by iAreConscious in Blog, Poetry on May 23, 2010
The internet can be just as awesome as the folks that interact in its virtual world for it is only a reflection of the tangible one our flesh bodies travel about daily.
A few years ago I was blessed by a chance meeting of a ‘like’ mind, online. A very genuine soul. We conversed of futuristic tunes and vibrations created by creative people. She purchased a painting of mine. We’ve written poem back and forth and shared photos from our journeys over the years. When last we spoke our conversation concluded with her giving me a note of encouragement. She told me to not let anyone pollute my well. I in return gave her a homework assignment, to write a poem. Since she’s written two. I wanted to share this one she sent to me this morning. I hope you enjoy it. Evelyn is a great writer.
-Evelyn Arthur
Thanks for that poem lady.
Evelyn is a subscriber so feel free to leaves responses, she will read them and respond back…
Enjoy your Sunday folks…
-
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