Like that wapping/raisin duo, Tiko!

we'll see if they can be pair
nicely, Tom.  they are just
some things that came to
mind while doing stuff other
than writing.

thanks for the look!

tiko

 
good friends
are like diamonds
forged through time
and pressure

when true
can be easy
as a clip-on necktie

when needed
available
as oxygen

sometimes
they come sudden
as a menstrual cycle

others grow
patient as coral

it's a meaningful
nothingness

a stocked
lake

an irrigated
field

a full flask
in winter









 

Some ride on your 'mental cycle', Tiko.

milner

Ha....thanks....damn auto correct on these phones.

I'd like to see this pared to the images after the opening, maybe, Tiko. The move from "diamonds" to "menstrual cycle" is a great one, and the coral formation is a great image here, but the coral formation is too similar to the diamonds' - especially if they're brought closer together. So not sure about all that - talk is cheap! Tom

Tom, thanks for the eyes
and edit.  a friend gave me
the first stanza and asked me
to write something from it
last night (heineken and rum were
involved).  i did like some of the images
that came from it, and you may see them
come up in the future. 

thanks again.

tiko

Tiko........after reading the thread that Tom was creating along with your needle
i felt free enough to weave another thought into the first few lines
just to let you know i have not been sleeping and still enjoying
your journal.

silent lotus
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

good friends
are like the reflections
of diamonds

some come sudden
as a menstrual cycle

others grow
patient as coral

a stocked
lake

an irrigated
field

a full flask
in winter

~

<sub>always
super

ciao</sub>




.

  Went back looking at your first stuff.  Really like this for its conciseness.  Heeading into oldmanhood myself, I got a chuckle out of it and my pattern of bruises.

Rick,

olé

tiko



*****



it's a sunday morning fuck
before the smell
of bacon and coffee

an autographed cast
net stockings with sneakers

chocolate
miles of chocolate

shoe shine stands
in strip club restrooms

a tucked back
sack

a finger
in the ass





-----------------------



muffin maker






the street signs were carved
by hand




shit



doesn't always
run downhill

sometimes it
sits in the grass

waiting for you
to check the mail




----------------









50
101
50
154

poem
commisioned by Kevin




cherish all things that you have
hold them close within your two hands
use each and every moment of the day
to abandon things with sharp edges
to find the stream
dash your face with new waters from old snow
lie still as a cat's whisker
or dance dizzy as a thing new to walking

do not hoard them behind the stone wall
where sun and pollen can not reach
or leave them on the road
like a carcus of forgotten things

hold them close within your two hands
and should your hands fail
set them into baskets of baleen and silk
set them in the bowl of fruit
or in the shoulders of trees
set them outside of winter’s reach

in the spot closest to your wanderings






----------------






fat floats to the top
murphy bed
the bluff

it is no surprise
you'd rescue me

you're a prescription
against the plague
your morning brew
starts the cock's crow
and in particular
i like the smell
of your panties
after two day's
wear

how do you hear
my troubles?
do they tremble
under water
like crocodiles?

blasphemy!

you are a bird
too close to the sun

and i am the ashes
of a scorched seed













--------------------------

i am going
to make
you pause
              .
              .
              .
              .
              .
              .
              .
              .
              .
              .
              .
              .
              .
              .
thank you











throwing cupcakes at windows

everything is fuzzy
when viewed through honey

red as herpes







----------------






hell
is a made up word
like ridankulous
and pescatarian

everything is fuzzy
when viewed through honey

and the fire
could have possibly
been ice

the book says
it's civil
to stand in queues

but it’s uncivil
to sleep on a pillow
without a case



-----------------------



down this street
all the porches are connected




------------------------------------


snacky cakes and sweet treats




it’s the color
of mustard
      —love is

pliable
as chewed gum

not caring
if there is a case
protecting the pillow

or the queue length
when there's a need
for ice cream

it’s a buttered navel
         -half innie
   -half outie
soft all the same





------------


i am yellow

you are green

as i wish to be

tall
on the side the mountain
watching bears

at thaw and the sheep
trek by on their way
to the top




is there a thing as artificial
as the white of birch trees?
will this mark hide adequately
behind my ankle or under my
arms?  i will remember the dead
clovers under your swing,

thanks for looking
in, Rick.  forgive the
mess.

tiko