tales from the murky splurge

By spiderfly - About Me - E-mail this page - Add to My Favorites - Add to Blog List - See other blogs in Poetry

Monday, February 20, 2017

The Pirtrait Artist 3.

I look for you as I know you will walk past me and then pause a while wondering if I can produce a likeness. You know that I can so Do not mock my solitude, I am perfectly aware of your tedious thoughts of superiority. Come perch yourself and squint not into the sun, look not at the light It... Sign in to see full entry.

posted by spiderfly at 10:13 AM | add or view comments (6) | leave calling card | link to this | view only this entry

Sunday, February 19, 2017

The portrait artist, contd. 2

i can wait patiently here holding on to the end of my pencil. I care little for time, aware that those who pass have very little of it, less than me. I sit with my blank canvas which waits for you like a bird of prey. I search the crowd of teasing tourists who traipse up the stone steps, their eyes... Sign in to see full entry.

posted by spiderfly at 10:46 PM | add or view comments (3) | leave calling card | link to this | view only this entry

Saturday, February 18, 2017

The portrait Artist...

Do not dare to mock my solitude, I am more than happy to spend my time on this wall, soaking up the sun listening to the sounds of the square. Tranquility waits behind Waitress chatter, which hovers like bees buzzing above the chimes of the bells of the Santa Maria.................tbcontinued Sign in to see full entry.

posted by spiderfly at 11:16 PM | add or view comments (6) | leave calling card | link to this | view only this entry

sleep has forgotten it's way when it held your dream in place sleep has abandoned the breaking of rules and laughed in the face of all that was valued balance believes no more the scales are so sloped and tipped towards tested and crossed out. sleep is no more now on hold and paused hopefully not Sign in to see full entry.

posted by spiderfly at 5:16 AM | add or view comments (5) | leave calling card | link to this | view only this entry

Friday, February 17, 2017

I saw a post on the internet showin a man thumping a woman on a bus. It appeared that he was her husband. It inspired me to write this. Lo que dices Y lo que sientes It matters. What you say And what you feel It matters. I am beauty and you deny me But I have love And you do not. Sign in to see full entry.

posted by spiderfly at 6:05 AM | add or view comments (6) | leave calling card | link to this | view only this entry

Thursday, February 16, 2017

Ode to a woman who marches. Her hands oiled for sensual touch. A neck and shoulders massaged She marches on a cold day A mother knows Peace here Drinks coffee over chaos A sister stands to face opinions She feels her comrades futures grey Lifting banners scrawled words on placards in backroom... Sign in to see full entry.

posted by spiderfly at 1:16 AM | add or view comments (9) | leave calling card | link to this | view only this entry

Wednesday, February 15, 2017

I needed some volunteers to help in the garden........ There's no explanation I cannot explain, i do not know why but I've done it again Of course you will laugh and shake your head. What on earth was she thinking when all is said. So I giggle inside, there is no emotion And wander back home To deal... Sign in to see full entry.

posted by spiderfly at 3:21 AM | add or view comments (7) | leave calling card | link to this | view only this entry

Monday, February 13, 2017

Sorrow cradles the spirit of motherhood Rocking in my arms the memories of innocence Molding personalities with hopes of strong futures years of proving love Years of endless worries. What did I not see in the glint of your eye to which I cannot connect I scream for you but cannot reach through the... Sign in to see full entry.

posted by spiderfly at 10:08 PM | add or view comments (7) | leave calling card | link to this | view only this entry

Sunday, February 12, 2017

The candle burning bright wth flame through muslin drapes I see your grace your eyes look soft towards the floor i picture beauty on your face a thousand kisses held within a slave she serves and asks no care her world Is far and without sin but all my senses are aware. sweet woman fair and with... Sign in to see full entry.

posted by spiderfly at 11:35 PM | add or view comments (7) | leave calling card | link to this | view only this entry

Saturday, February 11, 2017

COMMENCE

Words first come to shape the hour Today will bring thoughts to scatter over. steaming cups before tepid showers which wash the night. dreams now distracted Happy thoughts to wake the day now light comes reality poses her style its not important words are clearing commence the moment towards more... Sign in to see full entry.

posted by spiderfly at 10:38 PM | add or view comments (7) | leave calling card | link to this | view only this entry

About this Blog

Poetry is about expression of thought. Sometimes the best work is the kind of stuff that just leaps up from within our soul. I write a lot about the murky splurge...This defines a place where we are are given the freedom to bare our souls in word but understand it is between the lines where most truth resides, In a world which has an abundance of love for all to share there is a whirlwind stirring. these words come out of a storm, but reader of my blog, please see although we write about many things, we may just mean another...well that is what the villagers said..... have fun.

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