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Showing posts with label lost-found-stolen. Show all posts
Showing posts with label lost-found-stolen. Show all posts

Thursday, August 20, 2009

dis play/ce



triangle sky
museum trails
museum trails leading
through centuries
through relicts

of civilization
of civilization captured
of civation labeled
of civshipped

put up
onon exhibition
onon this stone ground

overwhelmed we sit
overwhelmed we sip
overwhelmed we sip sorganic coffee
next to a totem

that someone
dis
dis(played)
dis(placed

here

----
words+image: Dorothee Lang, Germany (virtual notes)

& more about the display/ced place: here.

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Col Morada

What it’s like when I hand her the
dark green with red buckshot
heavy, gourd-like, brutalist
object with one fool’s ear flapping
and she takes the machete
a wide grin from the apex of all
the vegetables, and then she is
holding the two halves -
.............................................Cuál quiere?
and I point
with a stake in my heart for the
one left behind, purple and
white furrows radiating
from a gasping stem what I want
for them is to be together,
again, but am aware that once
severed, we will not return to our original

it was much more beautiful
than I had thought and better
than I deserved, only it wasn’t
what I once glimpsed, and lost.

---
"Col Morada" - Red Cabbage
words: Rose Hunter, Mexico (
blog)

note: Rose Hunter is the editor of the new poetry journal
YB (guidelines), submissions are open.

Wednesday, June 18, 2008

Red Rocking Chair



A red rocking chair
abandoned in a field
of freshly cut clover,
rocks back and forth-
squeaks each time
the wind pushes
at its back,
then,
retreats.

-1975-

words & photo: Michael Lee Johnson (more)

Thursday, June 12, 2008

Pavement. A sort-of Haiku


somehow we ended up
with less and less of the world,
and more pavement.

----

words & photo: Eric Wrisley (more)
originally posted in September 2006

Monday, June 09, 2008

skywards



black forest sunday
road slope stop

a wooden bridge
an unnamed stream

leading into a forest
of green calm

of trees growing skywards
while they steadily

keep losing ground

~

Friday, May 23, 2008

Winter Solace



Dear Mike, the trees are lost in the gray
that surrounds them today.
Barren branches strain upward with a cry
to a frozen and lifeless sky
praying for a brighter day.

Cypress roots are stuck in a muddy bog below,
don't know which way to go.
Their knees rise up in search of solace
uncertain of their purpose
in this lonely winter cold.

This season of solitude no lover can defeat,
you've left me incomplete.
I wander through the trees aimlessly
getting bored shamelessly
with every man I meet.

Spanish moss desperately clings to it's due,
like I cling to you.
But your ashes have grown cold
with nothing left to hold,
I need someone to talk to.

Beneath the reflections lie decaying leaves
whose color the bog bereaves.
I'm stuck in a world of wintery dead
a shivering stillness within my head;
cries you once consoled, aren't percieved.

Sunday, May 18, 2008

What If

What if I never left you that day
when you sent me away?
What if I simply shrugged and said,
“Well, OK, Patti, I hope you have a nice time
on your date with your new boyfriend.
But I’m going to sit and stay
right here in this chair in your dorm lobby.
It’s a free country isn’t it?”
I suspect you would have become flustered
and upset, asking me again to leave,
perhaps even pleading for me to leave
to not embarrass you in front of your friends.
But no, I would be a real man this time
and I wouldn’t go. Instead, I’d stay right there
minding my own business in this dorm lobby chair
and watch as Bobbie introduced you
to your blind date, watch as he shook
your sweet, soft hand and maybe leaned in
for a quick hug and kiss on the cheek.
I’d watch as you tried to ignore me, tried not
to look across the room and see
the devastated look on my face.
And then I’d watch too as you followed
your new date through the door, followed along
behind him outside, out, free, to your freedom
from me, to enjoy your blind date all day,
some lunch in the campus cafeteria,
asking clumsy questions trying to get
to know one another as fast as possible
so you could enjoy your precious time together
at the game and then in the back seat
of Bobbie’s boyfriend’s big old car.
What if . . .

~~

words: Michael Estabrook, Massachusetts (more)

Wednesday, May 07, 2008

Forgotten



Forgotten smiles, remembered memories
Simmering in my half empty coffee cup
Making their way across the freeways of the mind
Grasping on the reeds of time, they seek to find
Loving glances. Timely touches. Promises on paper

Forgotten ways, remembered paths
Those days spent in Jayanagar bazaar bylanes
Wind along misty crevasses of life
Brushing past the damp cobwebs of dreams
Lured by melancholy and sweetness, so they seem

Forgotten music, remembered echoes
Tunes from my favorite singers
Dance their notes off the walls of the past
Percolating through the blurred eyepiece of tomorrow
Blissful tones shaded with happiness drenched in sorrow

Suitcases full of hours and minutes
Lie in our hands
At times heavy with enchantment and magic and illusion
At times light with hurt and grime and lemons
It's the handle of the suitcase that matters
Lift it gently or it can lie in tatters
Unlock Fate, lose the key to Destiny
Before Life closes its shutters

~~
words: Swati Nair, India (more)
photo: Dorothee Lang, Germany

lost, found & stolen



the new issue of blueprintreview is online:
issue #16 - "Lost, Found & Stolen"

while working on this issue, the idea grew that it could be interesting to pick up this theme in the blog, too, and to include one page of the issue as blog post. the page is included already: a page that is belonging, and named Forgotten. and hopefully attracts an open series of lost, found and stolen posts.

lost and found and other posts
if you want to make a post (connected to the lost-found-stolen theme, or just a moment in words or pixels) but aren't registered with this blog yet, then drop me a line: doro21 AT gmail DOT com. you can also simply send a mail with an image or a text, and put "Lost+Found" in the header, then i do the posting.
blueprintreview #17
there is no theme for the next issue of blueprintreview yet, i am curious in which direction the submissions will point this time. once the theme is taking shape, i will post it in this blog.
note: short stories over 1000 words are especially invited for the next issue
~~