Summer of 2015

How memorable was your summer?

You can make it personal or observational (society, or news events)

Prose or Poem
New or old (no previous winners)
No collabs
No Images
No word count (please keep at reasonable length)
2 weeks

I have an old one that would be perfect for this; does it have to be new?

rowantree said:I have an old one that would be perfect for this; does it have to be new?

Absolutely, if it was written about this summer.
And i will revise the rules for new or old, ty Rowan

Perfect. Here's my teenage summer-debauchery of 2015, everybody.

~

4%

When I held a bottle for the first time,
I loved the cold feeling of the glass on my fingers
and how it looked in my hand.

That bitter taste -
the very first swig from the gold she gave me -
at that moment, I was in.

My head was an easy sound
after I downed it -
I laughed at everything
and began to pour (requited) affection over her.
We all started swimming, then
spun an empty one. Kissed each other.

I started my second.
I'd heard bad things about drinking,
but damn, did I feel good.
Dizzy, free to say whatever I wanted,
the unreal feeling beating under my face.
She and I were glued together,
standing in the shallow end,
trading chlorine kisses.

At the bottom of my second-ever bottle,
I was floating, but the rational me
stayed inside
and didn't let me float too far.
Four naked cannonballs later, and
my brain still liked my decision.

I came down slow, let the buzz
move to a hum.
Cloaked in just that soft white button-up,
only one button done,
she and I held each other.
That
was bliss.

She lit a candle to keep the mosquitoes away.
I can still see it dancing.


~
http://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poems/212561-4/

Thank you Rowan for kicking it off with your great entry.

PAINTED CITY


They say Summer has come to an end but some things keep on lingering with an acute reminder that time is a linear notion.

Naked, painted women were everywhere in Times Square, displaying their bodies in the name of “Art” and “Female Empowerment”, shedding clothes and with it, inhibitions. 

The crowds were entertained as well as bemused with the idea of freedom of speech.  More importantly, the abuse of it by some who clearly were not there for a good cause or raising awareness for well intended non-profit organizations.  From prostitutes joining for solicitation of ‘tips’ to others dragging their children along and stripping them topless for attention, pestering the crowds for photographs.

Should we start worrying who’s rights are more compromised, the women or the minors?

Celebration of women’s rights should never be condemned or censored but one should take caution to not hinder on anyone else’s rights at the same time.  Taking allowance to respect families, cultures and religions who are subjected to view on daily basis. a predicament right in the center of the city, along numerous other places where crowds are at peak.

Consideration for appropriate places are important.  When we need to get a tan, we drive to the beach and seek areas for nude sunbathing.  If one needs to strip for money, there are strip clubs and not take it on the streets where they are ‘protected’ by law in the name of freedom of speech by abusing and contorting the definition of law.

Innocence is already short lived as we progress in this digital age and to take proactive role in protecting their minds from impressionable images should be something all women need to do for each other and for future generations to maintain the power and integrity by cherishing their bodies, not as objects or entertainment but as extension of their mind and soul.

This has been a summer of shedding many things, for some it was clothes and for others, memories.

Lena, thank you for entering your work.

Summer Blues

summer came by
pretty flowers wilted
by the hot hot sun
she wanted to come by
when  summer came around

her heart beating with joy
on wings of silver
travelling the skies
but met with constellations of stars

life was cut down
like grass by a scythe
flowers snipped by scissors
of crazed Destiny

she never made it
to her beloved's arm
during the heat of summer
wine drank without songs.

Grace, thank you so much for this beautiful entry.

G O N E

This was the summer
that she left my side
With no one to protect me
I no longer enjoy this ride

I think of her whenever
I lay my head down in bed
She was my confidant and my best friend
Now I cannot get her out of my head

I miss her long shiny black hair
and her powerful body when she ran
The picture of health, her skin glowed
I will never again gaze into her eyes which were the color of flecked sand

She had a curiosity for all things living
and was always eager to please everyone
Her nature was very forgiving
and she loved to bask in the warm sun

Aggressive but loving
With her by my side, I feared no one
She loved to relax and have fun
and she had a serious and protective side

We took long walks
at night and during the day
I loved our serious talks
I could even cry in front of her

She was there for eight years
and we grew up together
I learned to let her suppress my fears
because when she was around, I was calm

My beautiful baby, I miss you so much
I wish I could have left with you
and still be able to touch your face, hear your voice, and feel your skin's touch
My precious girl, I know that when we meet again, there will be more for us to do

Until then, I cry every night over the thought of you
I cannot stop myself from hurting now and every day
You will forever be my girl.  Without you I don't know what to do
My days stop when I remember and end with your memory

Thank you very much Miss_Sub and Primogenito.

The Last Summer

It’s been a long summer
Season of fruitful dreams
We met under the hanging tree
Heavy leaves dappling sunlight
Flickering gold upon your face
I thought you were happy
Even your eyes smiled
When you looked up at me
Yet darkness was closing
Devouring the life
We almost had
On the first day of autumn
When you were found
Hanging from that tree
My summers ended forever.

Thalia

In summer we drink rose wine  
under a purple twilight. I am  
haunted by the harsh slant  
of cattails slicing the wind.  
All gilded butterflies and the girl  
dissected. How she wants to be  
a house, a door, a mouth.  
Falling open, pink as ache. He’ll  
lose himself in her rooms,  
that wire trim, faint gold etchings.  
We itch to learn  
the horizon by texture.  
By tenderness. The way it speaks  
of velvet curtains and red-sequined  
pasties. Later I'll smell  
of persimmons, raindrops  
on a woman's spine.
She waits for the children  
to leave before she cries  
so they won't think    
this is love. In June
my white lily throat bared  
in supplication. Its sweet
un-interruption. How I tasted
the earth when I licked  
every part of you.

Toni and Geff thank you for entering your poems.