#NoPoo Book 1 An ode to Gabriel
Anonymous
Related submission no longer exists.
Thu, 04//03/2021
0942 AEDST
NP#61
eighteen years...is what you get
in dependent life
then bear your cross
across the minefields
of ruins
devastation
knock out blows
and a long journey
to the mirage that is
redemption
unrepentant
is the attitude
the armor to guard
the solitude
crack it and there's pungent hollows
no
there ain't no core
there never was
0942 AEDST
NP#61
eighteen years...is what you get
in dependent life
then bear your cross
across the minefields
of ruins
devastation
knock out blows
and a long journey
to the mirage that is
redemption
unrepentant
is the attitude
the armor to guard
the solitude
crack it and there's pungent hollows
no
there ain't no core
there never was
Anonymous
Aching Release (NoPoo 113)
Dark sins of the flesh
Dripping upon silken sheets
Exquisite release
Dark sins of the flesh
Dripping upon silken sheets
Exquisite release
Anonymous
Related submission no longer exists.
Anonymous
Tongue (NoPoo 114)
Serpent's tongue lapping
Consuming the burning bush
Her cry heaven high
Serpent's tongue lapping
Consuming the burning bush
Her cry heaven high
Fri, 05/03/2021
1328 AEDST
NP#62
part i
silver
well into the night
where shadows still fell
'pon the dry dusty streetscape
he looked up
the face on the silver pan
spoke
in its smirks and stills
as the clouds passed appearing
to scrub it
and failing
saying that which weighs
'tween his temples
will be clear
only when he stops
looking
but how can one
close lids
when what's gone inside
via the eyes
had set them apart
for good
the man on the moon
is a perpetual liar
said he
kicking dirt as he wandered
into the ruins
...
1328 AEDST
NP#62
part i
silver
well into the night
where shadows still fell
'pon the dry dusty streetscape
he looked up
the face on the silver pan
spoke
in its smirks and stills
as the clouds passed appearing
to scrub it
and failing
saying that which weighs
'tween his temples
will be clear
only when he stops
looking
but how can one
close lids
when what's gone inside
via the eyes
had set them apart
for good
the man on the moon
is a perpetual liar
said he
kicking dirt as he wandered
into the ruins
...
The Juke Joint
New Orleans Juke Joint
Bourbon Street
French Quarter
New Orleans, Louisiana
1934
The spin on that vibe
Cool cat daddy Dizzy Gillespie hitting the bass on that trumpet
The headlining jazz band spitting that electric fire
Yeah, you feel that, fingers popping, rumps seductively swaying, hips gyrating
Miles Davis dragging on his cigarette, snuffing it out under his shoe
Lifting his trumpet, blaring out some enticing melodies
Jazz sounds the heart can attune, the mind can submerge, the body can stir too
The lyrics floating through that smoke-filled jazz juke joint back room
Summer jasmine sweet laden air
Losing your soul in the time, the place, the mystic feeling
Feet striking out on the dance floor
Hugging and two-stepping to the funky beat
Picking your lady up, twirling her in the air, the back of her heels kissing the ceiling
Horns blazing for that magical moment
Hands clapping, toes tapping
Heads swaying, hands waving carried away on the smooth melodic rhythm of the enveloping Jazz sounds
Creole voices floating over the music
Blending dialects, for a common occurrence of an evening with Jazz and Blues gifted icons
Room standing of handsome gentlemen, drinks in hand, taking inventory
Looking dashing in tailored made Zoot suits
Stacy Adams shinning in the dim lighting
Coy ladies batting veiled eyeglasses of interest waiting for the electrifying approach
Hands intertwined
Two more pairs of feet joining the crowded foray on the open dance floor
Cab Callowly’ s deep baritone voice, popping his fingers, awaiting the right moment
To spellbind the crowd with his snat vocal and fancy feet
What an unforgettable night in paradise at the Juke Joint
A little nostalgia of history
That Creole soul that moves me
Defining my inner mysteries
Bourbon Street
French Quarter
New Orleans, Louisiana
1934
The spin on that vibe
Cool cat daddy Dizzy Gillespie hitting the bass on that trumpet
The headlining jazz band spitting that electric fire
Yeah, you feel that, fingers popping, rumps seductively swaying, hips gyrating
Miles Davis dragging on his cigarette, snuffing it out under his shoe
Lifting his trumpet, blaring out some enticing melodies
Jazz sounds the heart can attune, the mind can submerge, the body can stir too
The lyrics floating through that smoke-filled jazz juke joint back room
Summer jasmine sweet laden air
Losing your soul in the time, the place, the mystic feeling
Feet striking out on the dance floor
Hugging and two-stepping to the funky beat
Picking your lady up, twirling her in the air, the back of her heels kissing the ceiling
Horns blazing for that magical moment
Hands clapping, toes tapping
Heads swaying, hands waving carried away on the smooth melodic rhythm of the enveloping Jazz sounds
Creole voices floating over the music
Blending dialects, for a common occurrence of an evening with Jazz and Blues gifted icons
Room standing of handsome gentlemen, drinks in hand, taking inventory
Looking dashing in tailored made Zoot suits
Stacy Adams shinning in the dim lighting
Coy ladies batting veiled eyeglasses of interest waiting for the electrifying approach
Hands intertwined
Two more pairs of feet joining the crowded foray on the open dance floor
Cab Callowly’ s deep baritone voice, popping his fingers, awaiting the right moment
To spellbind the crowd with his snat vocal and fancy feet
What an unforgettable night in paradise at the Juke Joint
A little nostalgia of history
That Creole soul that moves me
Defining my inner mysteries
Written by SweetKittyCat5
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Dedicated to all my undergraduates classmates.. who have been reading my musings and asking me questions during our breaks. about my writing and supporting me... as we start dividing in our field of interest. as we all band together in these last three months to get our Master's Degree.. we can do this.. I do hope you all like this.. you guys rock.. and I will miss you all come Monday...
-SKC-
Anonymous
Related submission no longer exists.
Related submission no longer exists.
Roberta
A long intentional stretch
stimulates warmth ~ loosens
Altoids, to pack a punch when needed
Last minute neck rolls
round and round
Music queued,
I tie my asics up just so
It's always the same route,
creature of such habit, this one
out the battered screen door,
down the front garden sidewalk
through the magnolia tree debris
(those damn pseudo wanna be pinecones)
a veer to the left,
pet Sammy, as he comes running up
begging just right for the treats
from my tiny legging pocket
Oh to bask in ginger kitty cuteness
then head out,
bristling
"In hopes to at least maintain but perhaps get rid of a few too many gained."
Lake Roberta
She holds untold amounts
of my blood, sweat and tears
I'm cradled in her natural bosom
she's a sacred high priestess
the keeper of the deepest of my secrets
a sacrosanct confessional
only unto her
I gladly spill without care or hesitation
a calm languid beauty
she approaches
as my walk always starts
her way, downhill
(a hill by Florida standards, that is)
"Give me your most wicked and murderous"
Perfume wafts in the faintest hint of gardenia
mixed with a kind of pond algae bloom
Skies are overcast
Intermittent sunshine peeking in and out
thanks for small favors
to not be battered in sunstroke;
The ducks are nestled together
seems they've called a meeting
on someone's driveway, they convene
I imagine it's to bring awareness
of where they should stand motionless
for no reason, nor concern for how long
i bet they pass notes and leave each other tips
to increase the motionless longevity
especially if confronted by a moving vehicle
This behavior, I am convinced of.
My sweat beads and my earbuds pulse,
walking in purposeful time to the beat
a playlist of the most eclectic
yet it works perfectly in it's precision
exactly when and where I know I need
Music carries me along
when the hills get too seemingly steep
or my back or legs start to
recognize their age.
The lake whispers her comforts;
Turning towards the prominent side
where the houses are so classically pretty
and actual stone lions line
either side of this certain walkway
leading up to a white plantation style beauty
not my usual cup of tea eye catcher,
I cannot help but to peer inside
every single time I walk by-
a baby grand piano
a bichon barking
like clockwork, always
It's the monotony that's so reassuring
the lake motivates in continual wondering
accepting today's journal entry
no judgements
harsh rebukes or reprieve
she's a wondrous soothing balm
despite all my confessed atrocities
Winding the corner
uphill now
I marvel at one particular tree
it's exquisite in stature
with breathtaking lilac colored blossoms
unsure of it's type
I bask in true picturesque stunning
lilac colored petals litter the ground
all the way to the street and beyond
they drift in the breeze
nature's happy confetti billows
I take pictures, yet know they'll do no justice
No one's heart can remain heavy
within that celebration.
"With her absolution, it's forgiveness that spurs growth and a reminder of self love."
Trudging my way
back to my beginnings
Roberta, now lays
silently contemplating
her smooth surface of glass
reflects of bound promises
my body is tired in that best kind of exhaustion
I quietly bid her adieu
until tomorrow's
newest set of confessions
Written by Bluevelvete
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