The Versatile Blogger Award

Wow, I opened up the blog-roll today and saw one of my favorite poetry bloggers, Mindlovemisery, had a new posting.  What I found though was not a poem, but an award, The Versatile Blogger award, that she was nominated for, and which she nominated me for as well.

I can't thank her enough, it really means a great deal to me, and of course, I accept the nomination.  Thank you so much.

To accept The Versatile Blogger award the following conditions must be met:

1.  Thank the person that nominated you and link to his/her site in your       acceptance post

2.  Nominate 15 bloggers for the award

3.  List 7 things about yourself

My 15 nominations go to: (In no particular order)

1. Brian Miller

2. Pat Hatt


3. Claudia Schoenfeld

4. Kerryann Mansford

5. Luke Prater

6. Mama Zen

7. Randy Sturridge

8. Chasing Tao

9. Anna Montgomery

10. Natasha Head

11. Uneven Stephen

12. Jess Kristie

13. Ravenblack

14. Hedgewitch

15. Arron Shilling

7 Things About myself (Regular readers of my blog or followers on Twitter may already know these things but in any case):

1.  I collect Dictionaries, Thesauri and Reference books

2.  Outside of Poetry, I also write reviews, philosophical musings and Screenplays

3.  I love Myth, Folklore and Fairy Tales

4.  I have 2 dogs, A Border Collie named Toby and A Jack Russell Terrier named Chelsea.  I also have 2 cats, a black cat named Cocoa and an orange cat named Chloe.

5.  I'm a huge Buffalo Bills/Sabres fan. and Yes, at times it's been difficult

6.  I love to cook and actually am not that bad

7.  Although I just recently became involved with it,  I really love painting and drawing.

Thanks again for the nomination, I really appreciate it

Penance

Every clipping, sharks the gullet of vacancy

Shadows culling dreams well worn

Vixens, Vipers, Viragos, Asps

A venomous caldarium

Scalding with each splash

Steam shrouds the succubus inside

Layered lids lay listless amongst yarns & lies

In lieu of the lackadaisically leveled Libran scales

Weights unmeasured risk resurrecting the waxen toll

Talismans and their phylacteries

Fringed magical, frayed too fine- 

For the tricks of precursors translucent lures,

Doting singes temple speak; the scriptures tome-like tones repeat

Crafting divinity from a collage of time; Divinations all

Until the sickle reaps a harvest’s moon

Until the stone wets, once sword relinquishes tenures term

Every extract, sharks the gullets of mind

While shadows sift the wraiths of love,

Resplendent twinkling’s flash before

Safely plucked as tensions quell the thirsts of yore

The fields of perdition

Flooded, by permafrost

Then awoken in oil-

To which, but one stroke

Can set the match

A Game of Chance

Illusionism
Birthed by bartering-beliefs
For potential gain

Despite the council
Appendages turn
Sour with the decree

Sleight of hand, one, two
Holograms and gradients
Clouding an unknown

Tricks in games of chance
Gambling deceptions of man
Chloroform will dance

Macabre's stirring twist-
Back and forth, above-below
Calendars remind

Salted wounds grow numb
As roulette wheels cease tumbling
Pennies for your thoughts?

Who doesn't like chance?
A world without pit-bosses
Close your eyes, believe in dream

Haiku, Senryu, Renga etc.. are the stakes for the game this week over at D'verse, where Gay started a very nice lesson and discussion on Japanese style in this weeks Form For All.  Here I used a few variations to complete this piece.

Contract Killer

She took the hilt

Between the teeth

Twisting round

Pushing leather deep

Unsheathed, raw steel shines alive

At the casualty of sound to come

Syncopations rhythm grows

Primal surge, crescendo

Under the mask of day

Collides the guise of night

Under the cutest grin

A smile’s born in sin

Constriction tightens its clutch

That’s when her eyes rolled to touch

Squirming from anguished horizon

Into a chalice of trust

Flora ignites the pleasured scent

As the poppy’s milk skews sense numb

From a frenzied savagery

Ascension crests,

A transformation through thrashing

Sinews debased: Corporeal, feral,

As spindrifts snuff

In unison

Yet…

Rise she does

In deepest gleam,

Forcing rancor to the forefront of gaze

Pausing…

She took the hilt

Between her fists

With violence descending quick

And soon the sternum breaks

Unsheathed, raw steel’s a dull grey

As a casualty of lust, trust’s betrayed

Gasping; flailing incoherent

She places finger upon lip

Whispers the darkness comes quick

Forever stained with the wash of her

Never to bathe again

…And she redresses

Knowing the soul’s lingering

Eyes watch as she pens

Three words into still smooth flesh

DO NOT RESUSCITATE

Near a freshly painted paneling

There’s a window that leads out

Through the paper-thin screen

A reddened daybreak can be seen

Illuminating what remains of last night

 I don't know where this one came from, but thought it an interesting idea and decided to roll with it, of course blurring the lines a bit.

I Killed Orpheus

It’s not my fault

I’ve heard from others that your words speak

I’ve been informed your music addicts the soul

Yet, still, I cannot hear or feel

An extraneous birth I’ve bled

A foreign substance beneath the tongue

Subcutaneous- bludgeoned within

Orpheus, did you find your bride?

I’m sorry, from my hands your heart did stop

My mind is an athenaeum

Comprehensive, vast

Hollowed are my thoughts of you

For each hand etched syllabic impression-

For the beautification flowering from your song-

Circumvent me- an incomplete wager yet anted toward

Vacuous void, a void to see

I’ve reserved a space- a lee- to rest your stoned-in-tomb

Crone

The roughest plots oft reveal

Pragmatic poplars seeded still

A time for reflection is ever open

Exist it will now and always

Between the fabric glass that is tomorrow

And the brittle, yet encompassing cabinet,

With drawers of advice, from ghosts that once clothed-

-To specters of nakedness

Ill-optioned is the desperate crone,

Voiceless, anxious and very alone

Interred by the truth and the truth of turn-

If orders are given he must obey,

Despite the flaws the eyes can see-

Disobey or disagree- results in punishing

Yet

To carry out and fail kills the spirit within

What’s a crone to do?

He Wore A Heart of Orange Upon His Sleeve

She wore the yellow in her lace

Indoctrinated by the ever changing faces

That imbued her mother, as she grew-

Lacking all pigmentation, if not Blue

He wore the dust of heralds

Adhering its pink upon his heart,

Of which, since that fated dawn, he could only sing of her in carols

A soundtrack to love’s play, and Sisyphus became his part

She danced the reddest predilection

Enraptured by his persistent, amorous intent

Yet engrained are the evils, alive in her tapestries’ reflection

She damns affection, for the avarice of hesitance

Many stanza’s later…the spectrum’s cycle still would spin

She blankets herself in the blackest blur

Aged now, she has grown, but his pursuits have since died

And the clocks had sealed their lips, once apathy’s languor flecked eye,

If only she’d known, if not for decline, he’d still move boulders for her 

Well another Tuesday is upon us, and with it comes another week of wonderful and brilliant poetry over at D'verse.  This week we're all in for a treat, as one of my favorite poets, Tash, will be hosting Open Link Night.  Anyone who enjoys reading some great original poetry should be sure to check it out, and while you're there, perhaps you'll feel the urge to share a poem of your own.  Happy OLN!