they’ll carry cactus
damage in their mouths, melons
as sweet hurt as wells
.
haiku
Category Archives: mouth
i know my name
i know my name is
safe in your mouth
‘cos it sounds
like love
well-pronounced
.
haiku
sweet guilt
mouth full of butter
cream crumbs melting into guilt.
where to spit it out…?
.
haiku
stop, a while
then, quite suddenly
the sky is full of god ;
open my mouth ~ laugh !
.
haiku
in my mouth,
i hold your name warm
like a summer blackberry
plucked from country hedge
.
haiku
oasis mess
they’ll carry cactus
damage in their mouths
melons as sweet hurt
as well
.
haiku
defiant chill in the air
.
summer’s here, not gone, you insist
it’s beauty emptying and fermenting
tempting trees to bare their teeth and throw down arms
though barely September, winds whinge and whine
querulous as a passels of squirrels rustling and thieving stashes of nuts
but autumn comes in hobbling like two old biddies in dirtied petticoats —mouths
prattling, puckered as a skinny cow’s arse and just as fetidly malted
shocking as the hot stench of wolves on the cooled nostrils on a fist of horses
shivering, prickling as a torment of digits in agony on the return of blood as tips thaw out
summer’s not gone… you insist, hunkered into your nest of jewels and tattered letters —
like a tiny brown shrew nibbling whortleberries that stain like gossiped loot —
the colours, taste and scent that lasts well past memory, dribbled and inked in wines
behind preserving glasses- solitarily grasping at remnants of loves and leaves almost gone
to seeds, pulling heads in for a duration you shall not mention or admit —
except in the writing of this
.
not a haiku
.
.
p.s A whortleberry is a forest-foraged berry, also known as a bilberry or huckleberry. Traditionally, after a harvest of them was sent to the kitchens of London and other important towns, ( from Porlock and its environs ) remnants were sent to be used in the dying of airmen’s uniforms. (So i’m informed)
Napowrimo day 26.-
A couple of days ago, we played around with hard-boiled similes. Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem that contains at least one of a different kind of simile – an epic simile. Also known as Homeric similes, these are basically extended similes that develop over multiple lines. Perhaps unsurprisingly, they have mainly been used in epic poems, typically as decorative elements that emphasize the dramatic nature of the subject (see, by way of illustration, this example from Milton’s Paradise Lost). But you could write a complete poem that is just one lengthy, epic simile, relying on the surprising comparison of unlike things to carry the poem across. And if you’re feeling especially cheeky, you could even write a poem in which the epic simile spends lines heroically and dramatically describing something that turns out to be quite prosaic. Whatever you decide to compare, I hope you have fun extending your simile(s) to epic lengths.
dreamspeak
brush sleep from my mouth
rush out in to day dreams still
attached to my tongue
.
haiku
fall for me, sweetness
Give me —
five fists full of summer grass
without uprooting anything at all
Offer me —
six swift licks of your herby skies
including denuded scented rainflies
Pick the —
arch of your mouth out of the earth
pulling up a brace of this yellow birds —
you know are my favourite treats
give them a sprinkle of rose water and thyme twists to enliven them
Release breezes —
of them to me, sweetness
Christen my skin
with unbearable brightness
i can bear
and i shall
climb the concrete of your seven towers
my limbs shedding strips of your shaggy shapes
that coat you like smoke
as i go
to kiss the gossamer of your scars
as i bestow
upon you the broths of my belly
cover you in my darkest berries
catch you falling in
the parachute of my hair
.
not a haiku
.
NaPoWriMo prompt April 19:-
write a poem that starts with a command. It could be as uncomplicated as “Look,” as plaintive as “Come back,” or as silly as “Don’t you even think about putting that hot sauce in your hair.” Whatever command you choose, I hope you have fun ordering your readers around.
insistent joy — pouring
pale-green tea in a delicate cup
unceremonious —
koi in a pond swimming up
miniscule coal glowing in foaming
waterfall in my infinite chest
autumnal tumble spring expressed
palms pressed, lips open
to happiness —
to all things beckoning
recognising every small thing as tasting
fortuitous —
that stuff of thankfulness
.
oh, that soft embrace from — you know who
you are — rhymes of mint thyme coriander sage i
planted in a riot of wild flowers and trees i
will never see the shade of
oh, and that kiss — you know who
you are — amber and a thousand stars
stammer
in a pond swimming in
your mouth making the sound of
my name secure
murmur
oh, and that caress — you know who
you are — a sacrament of butterflies, thunder
rising on a summer breeze — a whole summer
lain in front of us to pray in
cascades made of holy gifts sipped to my infinite limbs
in the pond swimming around
winter hours shining in burnt orange glints
oh, and that gaze — you know who
you are — tiny tremors that become exquisite
shivers on a fresh blanched page
oh, and that hand in mine — you know who
you are —
oh,
you are
in
bubble-wrap pops
copper-blue eggs
nut-brown arms
cornflower silks
twitterings of little tits
snatches of salt-sharp winds
silver pepper-pot twists
dapples of yellow apples
white-linen billows
black-chocolate pebbles
thick-cream envelopes
effervescent-cobalt soaps
ecetera eceteras
sent to my infinite heart
insistent persistent gift
oh, joy — you know who
you are
.
not a haiku
.
NaPoWriMo day 13.-
….in honour of the potential luckiness of the number 13, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem that, like the example poem here, joyfully states that “Everything is Going to Be Amazing.” Sometimes, good fortune can seem impossibly distant, but even if you can’t drum up the enthusiasm to write yourself a riotous pep-talk, perhaps you can muse on the possibility of good things coming down the track. As they say, “the sun will come up tomorrow,” and if nothing else, this world offers us the persistent possibility of surprise.
barbaraturneywielandpoetess 