Another Poetry Game...Anyone?

KTC

Stand in the Place Where You Live
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One Title...many interpretations.

Post your poems here. One catch, the title of every poem is: ETERNAL PAGEANT
 

Cassie88

Make mine a double entendre
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KTC, I'd love to jump in....having trouble with the title..which is conjuring up nothing for me....Let's wait and see what happens. I really like the idea.
Cassie
 

KTC

Stand in the Place Where You Live
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I'll start then...


ETERNAL PAGEANT

The aroma of Sunday’s roast
wafting through the lazy house,
Alive with the laboured noises
of television and softly snoring men.
The flour on your hands
as you lovingly knead the dough
Into ceremonial loaves of bread.
“The Leaves Of Grass” held dreamily
in your loving embrace.
The smell of blueberries
pounding through the air
As you walk in the morning dampness,
mourning the loss for which you search.
The decay of death,
which lies dying just outside your reach.
The pulling tug of the suckling babe
wrapped within the unsure arms
Of a first time mom,
be it human or be it swine.
The scrapped knee of the hapless child
Learning for the first time how to fall
from his new red bike.
These are the memories,
the knowledge pools shared by one and all.
All angels with wings beneath the mire of Maya’s maze.
All copulating creatures
with the awakening heart
beating within a dreamy haze.
Be it elegant diva,
or heroin addicted body selling street urchin,
Or cancer’s latest victim,
or the womb’s newest occupant.
Be it East Indian Guru,
or wheelchair bound paraplegic cripple,
Or death row murderous inmates,
Or potent construction crew fathers,
or sufi dancing dreamers:
We all know the pain of childbirth,
the pain of dying,
The loss of love,
The birth of bliss.

The birth of bliss
…THE BIRTH OF BLISS.
 

Albedo of Zero

That didn't hurt
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ETERNAL PAGEANT


Of men, of birds, of mice,
maternal waves rise and fall,
heartfelt
through flowing grains of instinct;
a path of freedom naps the top
as tangled roots trip the reach.

Of men, of birds, of mice,
fraternal shackles bond or break,
hungry
for power of the seed,
whether sustenance or future,
with or without blood.

Of all that is living,
internal hopes come and go,
relentless in motivation,
toothless in hunger,
bloodless in heart.
-external marching
in an eternal pageant.




hmm... not sure at all about this
 

HeronW

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Eternal Pagent

You're on all the time
arms flailing, feet wearing a hole
in the carpet, or in my patience
this scheme, that dream,
something for nothing.
Doesn't matter if no one
else believes or shakes their head.
Common sense doesn't deter
you--but I've had enough.
Out you go, parade
your empty promises and facile
lies to some other sap who
can be fooled. At least
I won't be your fool
ever again.
 
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Ganesha

con·ver·sa·tion·al·ist
Poetry Book Collaborator
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Eternal Pageant

removing yesterdays
releasing tomorrows
naked 'now'
the ever present
eternal pageant
 

Teena

Bennie's Mom
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Eternal Pageant

lined up
along the sidewalk
diverse yet all
the same
the offers differ
competitive or
desperate


"Hey buddy, ya lonely?"
"Wanna be my daddy?"
"C'mon only twenny bucks."

they pace and preen
an eternal pageant
of pleasure
 

Appalachian Writer

Somewhere in the hills....
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Eternal Pageant

The leaves of autumn
spruce and willow,
comb and brush
the air.
They dance,
moving with the rhythm of the wind
pruning
preening
waiting for the right time
to dance in the breeze,
floating downward,
swirling,
riding the mistral
toward fading color
and the earth.
 

ddgryphon

King of Sloth Town
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Eternal Pageant

all we have is change

adaptions to circumstance
and each day morphing
from the last

each circumstance forcing
alterations that finally
flee the comfort
of conformity
for the unknown


of metamorphosis
 

Teena

Bennie's Mom
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Eternal Pageant

more ancient than Bach and Vivaldi
to the music of the ages
Earth takes center stage
unveils her collection
of seasonal wear
in a preening
eternal pageant of color
spring pastels, soft and pale
summers bold in vibrant primary
autumn richness, red/orange/umber
winter white, with gray and silver
 

Billytwice

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Eternal Pageant.

Fat, the polititions
Hiding behind ideals
Who paint the foreign fields
With the blood and guts
Of our young men

Be aware
Userers of youth!
Some of us
Are on to you.
 
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