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- EIGHT BALL SIDE POCKETIn PoetryNovember 26, 2023I was a denizen of pool halls in my younger days, shooting against "The Bear", "Admiral", "Three Finger Jim", and "The Horseface Girl". Hustled a little, but a good way to contract a collection of bruises. Used to shoot at an old, smoke-filled, wooden floored pool hall, with Old Booker racking the balls, located on the bottom floor of a... ahem... house of ill repute.1
- CALL ME POETIn Poetry·November 25, 2023Call me poet for I wander lost byways Of mortality and mind, Gathering cast off Images and impressions, Stowed away willy-nilly In the pack upon my back Where a genie resides Transmuting piles of Fleeting flowing realities, Binding them to print, Random words pretending To be poetry. • Donovan Baldwin121
- NO FINER PARCHMENTIn Poetry·November 25, 2023No finer parchment than The surface of your mind Skin on which I have written My most erotic poetry, words Graven deep into the most Sensitive parts of your being, Until my penned desires cover The entirity of the cherished Book which is you, the paper Upon which I pour beloved ink. • Donovan Baldwin123
- THE MOON PAINTSIn Poetry·November 25, 2023The moon paints with a silver brush Strokes upon a canvas of black, Drawing at its brightest, The firmest lines, omitting only, The smallest features, and The daily colors, Creating argent silhouettes, Cut and pasted upon, The dark cloth of night, A landscape stark, Beautiful, And quiet. • Donovan Baldwin111
- NO FINER PARCHMENTIn PoetryNovember 25, 2023Very good!11
- Pray for the InnocentIn Poetry·November 24, 2023(this is about cars after seeing a young fox smashed into the road, it's severed tail blowing down the road) The babies, the children, the animals The plants and the trees All living things Blessed by the creator Destroyed by human beings The creator’s heart is full Of the souls nay sparks Of blessed creatures Brought to harm Not killed for food But by cars Carnage and destruction Pollution and waste Noise and danger To all innocent beings Killing each one And us -- all together129
- MY PEN DRAWS AWKWARD WORDSIn Poetry·November 25, 2023My pen draws awkward words. No true picture can it portray, Of the beauty of sky and sea, The awesome power of wind and wave Which stir the brain and breast, Poet's hand hovering above images Which only he can dream, But sadly, Not set down for other eyes. • Donovan Baldwin112
- CHANGEIn General Discussion·November 24, 2023As often happens, I was thinking about things I have experienced, encountered, and, sometimes, learned (rightly or wrongly) in my 78 years on this planet. "Change" is the word that popped into my mind at first. I have seen so much change, in knowledge, customs, technology. Things which were only imagined when I was a child are real today. Things which WE, at that time, could NOT imagine happening, have occurred, become reality, and will continue to. We change. Societies change. Even the Earth changes. Still the thing that really struck me, was, despite 78 years on that changing Earth, despite a college education, work experience in many different fields at many different levels, despite life experiences (direct and indirect) of all kinds, despite having lived in a foreign country and learning to speak that language, despite an intense interest in everything around me, there is so much MORE I do NOT know. There is so much out there, still to be learned. Perhaps that's why I tend to take a step back from certain discussions where the intent seems to be to beat one's "opponent" into submission. like knights in armor, too heavy to be graceful, even about killing, who must be declared "winner" based on sheer weight and number of blows. While I DO have my personal beliefs, and take my stands based on what I feel is right, I still haven't learned enough to be ready to tell everybody else they're wrong. Not even in another 78 years.111
- Writing PoetryIn Poetry·November 19, 2023Weaving sun rays into a basket I’ll use to carry sweet phrases To feed to you like grapes One by one Spreading a blanket on a grassy hill Where every line paints a picture Crafting verses that dance with rhythm And resonate with meaning Each word carries the weight of expression Creating a tapestry of feelings That linger in the reader’s mind Eagerly awaiting more3416
- Walking My Dog in the RainIn Poetry·November 22, 2023Together we walk in the rainy dusk Lushness and silence surround Save for the pitter patter Of all those drops coming down Two bundles trudging side by side Heads down in defensive stance Wet and alone on this daily chore Hunkered below protective branch I love to walk in the autumn rain Feeling mist lite on my skin Heavenly waters quelling thirst Feeding trees and living beings My dog however hates to go He’s not a fan and wonders For what good reason are we here Wet soaking through our covers He doesn’t comprehend its he Who has all the control We’d hurry in if only he’d Kindly finish up the show Jumping puddles, straddling gutter Rivers with leaf boats floating by We’re homeward bound and not too soon Neither of us remains dry1512
- EIGHT BALL SIDE POCKETIn PoetryNovember 23, 2023As a pool player of fleeting skill, I appreciate this story so much!12
- Walking My Dog in the RainIn PoetryNovember 22, 2023How true, how true. I love the image too. Excellent choice.13
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