Tag: poem

My Halloween Contributions

All works copyrighted and previously published by Lola Gentry-Dey. All rights reserved. Hello from Lola. And Happy Halloween. My kids are excited about trick-or-treat tonight: Candy, candy, candy. While I break from making finishing touches on their costumes, I am posting some of my poems and stories for Halloween. I am the new person here

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Alice’s Hole

Poetry by Lola Gentry-Dey. All rights reserved. Inhabited between wild things, wonderful things, Who Am I? No longer a main priority, no longer stapled to a better forever determining worth and future. I Am the problems I’m not letting go of. I Am the energy and struggle to do better in this Magical universe, reincarnate

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Inheritance, by Carolyn Cox

We sit on Mother Earth, Her watchful eye and furrowed brow creased in worry As she watches over us with feet of prosperity. Pollution and decay all around us; We who snatch the grain from her warm, soft soil, Always taking, never giving While birds of the field scatter seed to replenish her storehouse. We

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I Have Seen The Best Minds Of My Generation Destroyed By Madness

Poetry by Lola Gentry-Dey. All rights reserved. Too many people stomping around— fractured herds mucking the rivers, shitting the highways, killing the grass. They think they know when they don’t. They rode lame in a hot race and wept when their HellCat lost. Now they cry from twit-faces in their concrete castles filled with Eisenhower

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Car Hysteria (Seduction Revisited)

Poetry by Lola Gentry-Dey. All rights reserved. Earlier today shopkeepers seduced pot-bellied old men with sleek fast brand-new cars that rubbed and kissed their trousers and guaranteed to stop lonesomeness. Erstwhile minds backpedaled on leather seats where stale memories surfaced and breathed new air striking deals in brown cubicles under the breath of fresh coffee.

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Dreaming Fear

Poetry by Lola Gentry-Dey. All rights reserved. I dream fear in radical light shape and shadow— our night sun and day moon know the blood sky the bone wind the muscle and flesh rain the earth-weight traps and prisons where our slippery slopes are built too high on circles of madness which I journey to often

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Good Books Are Dreams Come True

Poetry by Lola Gentry-Dey. All rights reserved. I journey often to faraway places, many anew, others revisited, spent with treasured friends, rare and unique— life is clever with good friends around us. First-run journeys take me like a child perhaps across rustic bridges, perhaps beyond orchard ways, likely to places to be seen with new

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A Dreamer’s Shangri-La

Beyond the valley sunsets through a nestled paradise for dreamers beside a crystal lagoon where the deep and green go my laughter embraces the wonders here My heart beats warm where waters flow from a sparkling waterfall I bathe away the devil and drown her in the quick I slumber on the stardust seldom ever

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Walking The Dark Road

My blog is 4 months old and it already feels like a neglected child crying for attention. September has been a busy month here at the Dey residence with the transitioning of my children going back to school and getting them to pay attention to their new schedules. My oldest has been a champ at

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New World Slavery

A woman from a fishing village slaves in a sweatshop, making shirts for retail stores, selling them at low prices to help save shoppers money to spend at McDonalds after the Little League game tonight. She makes barely enough money to pay the rent of her shared one-bedroom apartment in the city where hucksters scramble

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Nightfall (Old Poems Revised)

Night falls swiftly on us— our lives are a flash in the sinking sun, ten thousand years of rebounded vibrations— I call it life but you call it hell. You steer my sight to the setting sun and tell me that it’s evening for us all— the night is silence: no more color, no Hawaiian

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Tales And Secrets (Before The Tales Begin Revisited)

The old woman hovers near the woodstove and drags a calloused hand across her crinkled forehead as if wiping away smoke and sweat. She pauses, looking; her eyes flash between her fingers and strike my soul. I feel her in my mind, looking, searching, all the while reading the history there. Where have I gone

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Summer Nocturne (Halcyon Days Revisited)

A gentle breeze caresses trees where children play in savanna gray. Meadows laugh whispered breaths on a beautiful warm summer eve. An inquisitive rain slips from dappled clouds; sunlight bright on its mist that kisses my upturned face: soft caresses like satin dresses making love to my bare skin. I lie in the arms of

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Young Love

—1995— Sun-kissed golden down of woven sunlight on feet so small Sundress yellow shines flaxen halo on cushion grass Body electric sitting in the shade glorious Delighted little girl pounces and kisses lips deeply silkily Earthly heaven scent is a warm sunbeam gleeful A bed beneath sheets of pure love as long as rivers run

Heat

She rode her motorcycle’s heat between her legs from an engine throbbing like constant thunder. The frame and the ride were hot. She shivered like a dangling shoe on the end of a naked foot. She pointed her knees at men she found interesting. The exposure to the frisky wind and throbbing engine were like

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Coming In Color (Black and White Revisited)

My mind is empty among white blossoms. My lips speak not of this bubble of a heart. An attractive woman notices me anyway and takes me as I am. My habits flow to the sea like American motorists on summer vacation. The neighbors complain about our caravan outside their windows in the early morning rain.

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The Sea On My Honeymoon

The sea on my honeymoon is nearly silent around me. A faint skitter of fiddler crabs on the sand connects to a murmur of the night-wind in the palm trees behind me. My lover tide is making low complaints like the aching earth, caressing and bitter against an expectant land. I keep half-awake the anguished

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America (Macroscopic Death Revisited)

So many American faces are fading like new literature, soft and pale, sinking into the quicksand of poverty. Their government turned their dollars into pennies; One hundred George Washingtons won’t buy a fistfight today, but a hundred Ben Franklins can get you murdered… Franklin kicks Washington’s ass every time. But whose city park does big

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Kisses (Our Kisses Revisited)

Lower your lips to my heart Where our souls touch and flame Where you are ageless in my embrace Protected enough to say you love me Lay with me over moss and leaf Drenched in last night’s rain Their shimmering surf at our thighs Where diamonds and poetry love to weep In this discovery I descend

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A Brief Pause in an Apple Orchard

In small acreage on a hilly clearing, Sunny morning shines golden on chalky-pink blossoms; I pause and prolong my hike to watch sunbeams lick away dewdrops Soaking in shaded greenery of an apple orchard. Craggy, crabby branches nod jaggedly at a breeze dashing across the way; Wasps complain from gray papery hives swaying above me;

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Tense Silence (Alone Revisited)

Tense silence in my bedroom but not in my head Heavenly hymns hum from fingers strumming Sweet music from songs in mind Trembling chords of delightful tension certainly make this moment more attractive I find a new discovery and add it to old ones But no one sees the babe I’ve become I have no

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My Love (Goodbye Coming Revisited)

My love’s long blonde hair frames a pretty face A red blouse peaks where no boy ever made mine feel any good My love knows open mouth She speaks fluent oral communication Her lips soft and full taste like silky high life laughs and cries My love knows skin touching Sweet kisses down Claiming me

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Sun Chasers

Chikili and his family poured like ants from the backbone of life Sky fire warmed their naked skin And night’s cool breath sent them seeking shelter and warmth Many moons cycled their journey while Chikili and his family chased the sun The seed arrow led them to a river rich with food— they ate and

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Rightful Heirs

Man’s abstraction is his mad reality— His crazy reality is our despair His ruin-prone proud national heritage befalls us for a wretched dream Ancient fires fuel his greed made savage by marketeers A proprietor evicts a family struggling to make ends meet No compassion He says he needs his money to pay his bills— but

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4 Weeks Alone (Alone Revisited)

Week 1 Alone Silence in my bedroom, but not in my bed Naughty aching, electric steam I lie ready, fingers pressing hot Shivers come to me inside the warm darkness My lips form a perfect O O God O Yes O Yes yes yes yes yes The heightened feeling gets stronger The seconds crash like

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Upon Broken Rocks (Revisited)

Upon broken rocks along the shoreline where the caves of storm nymphs hold scattered remains of every sunken ship, walks Adam’s Lilith—Collier’s too— her body covered by the serpent’s twine— ophidian lover— demon of night and day. They dance surrounded by sweet sirens’ songs that weave their tapestry before a lengthy mirror that looks out

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Big

You’re so big— the internet made you huge We decipher your candy whining at your blog every day— we’re some of your best teased hairfriends at your facebook We know your TV faves movie faves favorite faves and all your playlists You like short shorts, bikini jeans, and certain days wrapped in Jamawar You love

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Blazing California

Remember the drought, dry grasses and winds? Our wildfire moon was red —everything else was black char, ash-fog, so thick we couldn’t breathe There seemed no escape but death Fire blocked our roads Stay-put-and-find-shelter fireman filled our minds with dread Our very souls grew heavy with smoke If we were to die by fire, we

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Watching Foxes

I am watching, alive the foxes watching me after the grass is cut, barking seldom but always watching, watching me, faces sharp, red coal eyes, gold afire on the stubble on the hillock, watching, waiting, bright fur hostile, prowling now for the waning hour shadows creeping, slipping inside wire pens that coop our hens. I

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Seduction

Today at market, shopkeepers showcased brand-new cars and seduced nearsighted and potbellied old men with promises to stop their loneliness. The promises were offers of a future spent speeding on swift wheels. And so the old men were kissed by shiny chrome rubbing their trousers, and were spent dreaming of getting laid upon the smooth

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Our Differences

You are full brazen; Your swollen tan lies crisp on sunbaked sand; You call attention to my snug rounded smooth firm thighs, But you take my breasts in hand instead. Seductive anticipation, You promise me the taste of fried chicken skin; And so my mouth waters all woman— Course and raspy pudding under foot. But

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Rain

Rain on the window paints calligraphy on my wall— I recite verses to music playing where pear flower stars burst forth in the multicolored bowl on my kitchen table where I once compared nature with artifice and made love to the girl with ornamental hair That’s what happens, she says to me now, when tradition

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Steamy Passions, 3

Moonlight spills across our bed revealing the smile on your sleeping face— No doubt you’re dreaming of an earlier passion spent Watching you sparks an ember glowing and a sudden thrill percolates in me So I close my eyes and send my hands drifting to a warm moist place spotlighted by the moonbeam’s gentle glow

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When I A Child

When I, a child, when I could, I voyaged out into your cool company— the coldness of boots pulled on at the doorstep before walking that large solitude of no cricket, no owl; walking with silent snow feet among birdless woods tossed among the taste of echoed blood at such a time, invisible and dull

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The Sea

The sea is nearly silent around me. A faint skitter of fiddler-crabs upon the sand connects to a murmur of the night-wind in the palm trees behind me. My lover tide is making low complaints like the ache of earth caressing and bitter against an expectant land. I keep half-awake the anguished spirit of self-love,

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Remembering

Do you remember how we crept along fences young together I, at twelve, stumbled through the other side of eternity never to think we’d ever become middle-aged Do you recall homesick high-school weeks making us feel gentle like days of a last breathless uncertain chord played— a warm rich memory of an old woman’s concert

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Our Kisses

We bedded with moss and leaf and sand drenched in that evening’s rain; a shimmering surf at our thighs where diamonds and poetry wept on our ocean waves. We stirred to passions rising in us, caressing below an unwatched moon. mouths lips open touched together pressed hot wet arms sparked entwined legs Your breath and

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Dissimilar Worlds (Dressing Revisited)

Sometimes I still dress in past transgressions— I like how I look; old styles are comfortable in vogue color, length and brand. But you would strip me naked; dress me in a style that won’t embarrass you— dress me like the Christ you wear on you even though I’m everything you want: my sex, my

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Dead Life

He died before I was born But still she masturbates to his picture Still she comes to his songs She weeps to know he’s at a standstill Her grief rises from the icy depths of our dead planet Her tears fall from a broken sky at the threshold of her own dark doorway destination And

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Upon Broken Rocks

Upon broken rocks along the shoreline The caves of storm nymphs hold scattered remains of every sunken ship There walks Adam’s Lilith — Collier’s too Her body covered by the serpent’s twine — ophidian lover — demon of night and day They dance surrounded by sweet sirens songs They weave their tapestry before a lengthy

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Lavender

I like how I look wearing lavender No deep yellows to energize your permanence for me No hot pink except inside me No rich purple royal sainthood Or the vibrant green envy and jealousy you love And no riotous reds to make you want to strip off my dress No No stark raving vehemence ready

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Melted Ice

Night in the city has a strange sound The way roof ice speaks before it melts Pools down Rushes gutters Raises the river’s rage below me Melted ice flows over my boot tops Down interwoven streets with city signs that claim they take us to Homes Schools Businesses Somewhere Anywhere Everywhere that is nowhere to

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Unleashing (Alone Again)

Aching Eyes wide open I lie in bed ready Knowing this feeling Almost like dread Anticipating the climax almost to me Feelings strengthen Seconds crash like waves washing over me Sweet surrender contractions Quake my core Mind Body Soul charging forth from its depth Galloping up Soaring over rivers unleashed Hear my cries of joy

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Tense Silence (Alone Again)

Tense silence in my bedroom but not in my bed Heavenly hymns hum from fingers strumming Pressing down hot on me Playing music’s sweet songs in my head Trembling lines of delightful tension certainly make this moment more attractive I find a new discovery and add it to old ones But no one sees the

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Waking (Alone Again)

Naughty aching Eyes wide open I sit in bed ready Naked Knowing this feeling Almost like dread: Anticipation of the climax almost to me The feeling gets stronger As the seconds crash like waves washing over me I close my eyes Sweet Surrender Dew Bubbling forth Trickling down Over folds Moist and glistening My core

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Goodbye Coming

Judy’s blonde hair frames a pretty face My libido grabs me by the folds Her pretty red blouse peaks where no boy ever made mine feel any good She knows open mouth She speaks fluent oral communication Her soft lips are full and taste like silky high-life laughs and cries Laugh and cry I came

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Alone

Alone Tense and horny Silence in her bedroom but not in bed Her hand wanders downward Playing Alone Mirror watching Reflections She hums music Sweet songs in her head Humming hymns and strumming chords of her favorite songs Fingers Music Playing Pressing hot Agile hands certainly make the moment more attractive Fingers reaching Probing Dirty

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