Ode
☘️Muirne☘️ Mother
Introduction This is my twentieth piece inspired by Justine G. Cappelli's beautiful and inspirational artwork. I love that Justine always gives a full story behind the painting, which gives me more than just the painting to work off
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred 2 months ago in Poets
Appalachian Ode
Oh, blue backed ridges rising beyond the morning haze, where laurel crowns the slopes and rhododendron follows clear creeks through cove after cove. Long before sunrise, a rooster breaks the darkness while another day begins beneath your broad shoulders, steady as memory, lifting every gaze toward the next horizon.
By Tim Carmichael2 months ago in Poets
The Smell of Burst Balloons
I don't recall how old I was Maybe that's a lie A clever line I just say To sound accidental anecdotal nostalgic notation - because - I feel well...I feel so damn old - We all do that, don't we? it can't just be me - But I recall that jolt that rush The surge of electricity as As my hands grip the rubber Full of breathy promise, And I rub the enlarged sphere Against my hair - Closing my eyes with pleasure, anticipating As the rubber balloon demands And then after just seconds It happens, gravity defeated - But is it really, well no, but to me A small nipper, knee high to a... ... You know - some kind of miracle, of science, unseen powers and laws dictating our movements and life - When I was young the need to do it always gripped at me Or, if I'm honest, when my height shot up I still felt that urge, but nothing stays The same can't stay the same - I stand on any day no particular day A Tuesday evening. A Thursday after dawn. Most likely a Saturday... - A Saturday after our wedding anniversary It was twenty-two years to the day Since those words you say when asked - But in truth again - I don't remember the day I remember the smell - Of burst balloons Of the promise balloons offer to rekindle something specific From my past And look at those still inflated ... Waiting And take the rubber and rub it Against my skin my hair or at least - At least what's left of it as I chase That buzz that lightning bolt charge - But as I desperately Rub the balloon against my old head It's never Ever quite the same - Like the first time you hear that song You know the one We all have one Lyrics and melodies Echo echo echo ... In the silence We find ourselves in - In our heads When we need it But it never sounds the same - Still magical, still transformative But without that original fire - While everyone goes about their lives - I'm just stood there, static - Static - noun definition Not moving, unchanged - Static
By Paul Stewart2 months ago in Poets
