PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

In the lake near Sarnath,

Is a large gray rock.

At Sarnath's destruction,

It submerged by the lake.

Judy was in the store
and I found her at the back
filling shelves
and I said

how's it going?
and she said
O so so
not like it was

at school
there
you could have a laugh
here everyone is

O got to keep
the customers happy
got to keep them
coming back

she placed the last
of the tins
on the shelf
and paused

you still get
to sit by our lake?
she said
now and then

I said
not as often
as we did
but I have to work

now too
and time gets eaten up
by the work time
you remember that time

we sneaked there
after school
and it was summer evening
and we sat there

watching the sun go down
through the trees
like a departing actor
after a big scene?

she said
sure I do
I said
and the shadows of birds

going off to sleep
and bats
she said
O how I hated

those things
beginning to flap
about over head
and that time

you kissed my neck
so unexpectedly
that I screamed
and it echoed right

through the woods
like I was being murdered
she smiled
and looked around the store

don’t have a laugh any more
it's all so serious here
the staff
the customers

just wish
it was as it was
maybe we
should meet up again

one evening
by the lake
and see the sunset
as we once did

I said
the store manager
came by
and said something to her

and she picked up
some other tins
and began filling
another self

what's he say?
I asked
the bum said
I wasn't

to waste company time
in idle chitchat
anyway
she said

I'd like to get
to the lake one evening
as we used to
maybe Thursday evening

I looked at her hands
holding the tins
how I once held them
and kissed the fingers

one by one
sure
I said
that will be good

we agreed a time and date
and I left her there
giving the manager
a cool eyed stare.

Yehudit walked with me
in the woods
and sunlight pushed
through the branches

of trees overhead
birds sang
a rabbit rushed off
through the thick

undergrowth
she wore
the dark green skirt
and white blouse

school had ended
for the holiday
wonder if our swan
is there

she said
reminds me
of the Wagner opera
I liked the way

the sunlight
lit up her hair
as she walked
tints of dark brown

and light brown
a hair grip
held in place
unruly bits

Lohengrin
she said
that's it
that's the opera

she had undone
the green school tie
the collar loose
the tie untidily

pulled away
neck showed
last time
we saw it

at the lake
(the name
she called
the pond)

we sat and kissed
and you put
your hand
up my skirt

she said
where the blouse
was stretched
her breasts

pushed out
seeking escape
and there was that bloke
fishing over the way

and we didn't care
a toss
she said
I liked how

her soft
plump hand
held mine
her fingers

gripped mine
preventing their escape
had they wanted to
(which they didn't)

yes I remember that
I said
(we only noticed him
just before we kissed

tucked amongst trees)
is it unusual
for swans
to come to our lake?

she asked
I shouldn't think so
I said
(I hadn't thought

about it at all)
as we walked
I glanced at her profile
the nose

the flushed cheeks
the eyes blue
clear blue
as if

in white dishes
her hair brushed
in her usual
careless way

I hope he's not
there today
she said
it's not the same

kissing
in front of others
I doubt he is
I said

Lohengrin
yes I had heard
the highlights
of the opera

on the radio
a few times
the swan bit
she had said about

as we came
to the pond
(my word not hers)
we  saw no one

was there
except ducks
and moor hens
and fish swimming

just under
the surface
we sat
on the warm

grassy bank
and she sat
with her chin
on her knees

her hands holding
her legs
peaceful
she said

a crow sounded nearby
a woodpecker tapped
away at some tree
I could see

the impression
of her bar strap
through the white
cotton blouse

at the back
how do they manage
to undo them?
I thought

my hands each side
of my legs
balancing me
I love it here

she said
I like it anywhere
I said
she turned

and playfully
hit my arm
I meant the place
not that

she said smiling
still no swan
I said
she looked

at the water's skin
a Mallard swam by
do you think of sex
all the time?

she said
pretty much
I said
I thought so

she  replied
there was that heron
landed that time
I said

yes there was
she said
the sun was warm
white clouds

no swan
and us
making love
in my head.

I am bound again, just as they said I was
It's clear and beautiful blue hue becomes forever cloudy
A bird's chirps become distorted by the rain and thunder's cries

I walk alone the path of the river
Alone accompanied by my footprints only
Till the crow comes to bring yet another question
This I can't ignore, for the world will shiver

And the steam shall arise from my next decision
and the never's and forever's again will pour the air
I hope to hold on to whatever is left
The sun can tell another day, to become my true vision

What would it take

what would it take to make you mine 

can i have a second 

a second of your time

or maybe just a dance 

a dance for two under the stars

i want to vacation in the warmth 

the warmth inside your arms

On the rooftops in Seattle 

or lake michigans cold shores 

i don't care where we go 

as long as baby, i'm yours. 

After a late dinner I took a walk down to the dock by the lake,
Lying down on the dock, outstreched, I could feel the coarse wood on my legs,
A warm breeze wisps by, grazing it's breath upon the nape of my neck
As I hang my body down off the dock to reach the the water,
The smell of fresh cut grass permeates the air, and the lake is black as coal,
It is smoothe and shiny in the moolit sky, so calm and quiet,
I gently touch the water to form a ripple
That continues outward into the lake for yards and yards
Until my eyes can no longer see it as it melds with the stillness,
Consumed by the tranquility of the water,
And the resounding effect of my own vibration returns to me,
Refreshed and renewed, expanding my awareness
Into my own well within,
While I lift myself up into a sitting position,
And enjoy the subtle romance of the night.
I walk home, with nothing but the sound of my tennis shoes
As they pace me onward down the dirt path,
The distant streetlights forming tall shadows that shrink as I walk by each lamp post,
As I pass the lilac bushes, now in bloom,
The smell is so fragrant and it contributes to my placid mood,
So I pluck one of the flowers to place under my pillow.

I am asleep within minutes and awaken to the songbirds outside.

I like this.

8:26 AM 5/4/2013

The seaport lying on the isle of Oriab;

Being a mighty city.

There is a canal which goes under the city

In a tunnel with granite gates;

Leading to the inland lake of Yath.

Parts of the city are built of bricks

Resembling the ancient ruins

On Yath's further shore.

The beacons on either side of the harbor

Are named Thon and Thal.

The lava-gatherers climb Mount Ngranek,

But not too high, might they fall;

To get bits of volcanic stone;

Still not reaching out to the gods.

The city is ruled by a congress

Of retired sea captains and traders;

Determining both laws and punishments.

Tales of the sunken city

Six nights out of Baharna

Are told in the taverns of Lhosk.