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- The Magic FluteIn General DiscussionDecember 26, 202200
- Hello Everyone!!!In General DiscussionJanuary 26, 2023Took me several attempts to post and attach art to some of my poems. Artskeepers is great! Cheers, Lorene Rogers00
- Why artists will save the planetIn General DiscussionAugust 31, 2023I probably don't follow science as closely as I should, nor politics or philosophy. However, on a common plane, gadgets in the old Dick Tracy comic strip have become reality, as well as many scientists and philosophers, getting their "inspiration", at least some of it, from science fiction... pulp fiction in earlier decades (my era), and later, Star Trek and the shows it inspired or opened the door for. Now, if we can just nail that "universal peace" thing down...00
- SOLDIERIn Poetry·October 11, 2023I'm lying in the mud, water mixing with my blood, Perhaps I'm riding in a track or in a Jeep. I'm cozy, safe and warm, far removed from any harm, Except when I am too afraid to sleep. I begin before it's light, and continue into night, Whether slick-sleeve or with stars upon my shoulder. I'm a boozer and a fighter, or a lover and a writer, Puttin' in my time and slowly growing older. Hair that's not been cut away, once brown but getting gray, My pocket's empty almost all the time. My uniforms have creases that can cut a man to pieces, I use words no dictionary dares define. I eat C-rats stead of caviar, and often drive my buddy's car, Because my wreck won't pass this year's inspection. I can cross the desert sand, or any piece of land, With just here and there some minor misdirection. I'm paid nowhere near enough, to put up with all this stuff, And the CO says I don't get paid for thinking. Top's pushed me to the end, and then on around the bend, Too proud to cry, I settle down to drinking. I can't afford a spouse, but I have one...and a house, Who would think that such a gal could love a soldier? I can't tell her, or you, why I live the way I do, With the pages of my life filed in a folder. I gripe, but call me I'll come running, or marching to the drumming, If you need my life, I guess that's what I'll give. Like other soldiers gone to war, who paid the price before, The price placed on the life we live. I can't say that I'll be brave, when the flags begin to wave, Tattered, ripped, and torn by deadly fire. I can only say that I, hope to give it my best try, If I claimed any more I'd be a liar. I'm a soldier dressed in green, often looked at, seldom seen, Please spare a moment now to see me well. For there might come a day, when I'll be called away, To spend a tour in someplace close to Hell. And, I might just not come back, when I carry off my pack, To an unknown place somewhere around the earth. So, stop and give a smile, that I can take with me a while, Cause money cannot measure what I'm worth. • Donovan Baldwin 29 March 1982000
- HER NEW FREEDOMIn Poetry·October 12, 2023His poems held to her breast, Touching words he wrote for her, Which leave her breathless. Taken bare and unaware she gasps! Where came this sudden rush of heat, Her body's hot desires? Touched by words and pages, Released by strokes of absent hands, She finds her new freedom. • Donovan Baldwin000
- BLACKIE AND THE BEARIn Poetry·October 12, 2023The nurse said, "Mr. Owens, It's time you were in bed." The old man gave a gentle smile And gravely bowed his head. As she helped him from the wheelchair, She thought she heard him say, "Tonight I'll ride with Blackie, And watch Bear as he plays." It was sad to see the weak old thing Lose the little sense he'd kept. So, as she put his things away, The young girl quietly wept. Then she found the crumpled paper, Almost tossed it in the trash. Except for "Corporal Owens", That her eyes caught in a flash. As she read the yellowed pages The walls moved out and back. She saw a Mountie on a killer's trail Out on a Yukon track. It was the tale of Corporal Owens Upon the page she read, A hero of the Yukon Dressed in Mountie red. She began to wonder of the sights The dim old eyes could see.. The mountains and the meadows, Rivers wild and free. It saddened her that this fine man Raved like a madman there In his mind gone out to play With Blackie and some bear. "He's reverted to his childhood, Or made up a place to play." Then she saw the picture As she began to turn away. It was a tall young Mountie On a horse as dark as dark, And beside them sat a huskie, As if about to bark. On the back she saw the writing, "Rick, his dog and horse." Then in the dark of that quiet room, Things went from bad to worse. The breathing of the old man Rasped out in the night, And the nurse reached for the button, In momentary fright. She then pulled back her hand, As the man began to smile. She knew that he had saddled up, To ride a last long mile. Yes, tonight there'll be a rider In the freezing Yuko On a horse that he calls Blackie, Beside the huskie he named Bear. • Donovan Baldwin000
- LEAVING TODAY'S WORDSIn Poetry·October 13, 2023Old weary warrior, Poet worn down by time, Shine gone from his words, Ink drying in the well, Trimming one last quill, As a dim memory Pushes to be recalled, Written down, Shared if only with himself, Poem left upon the desk To be found after he is gone, Leaving today's words. • Donovan Baldwin000
- LOVERS IN THE RAINIn Poetry·October 13, 2023Lovers in the rain, Wet clothes stuck to Wet bodies. Wet bodies stuck to Wet bodies. Lips stuck to lips, As the rain falls, Streams of liquid, Sticking us together, Breathing into one another, Chests rise and fall together, In the warm rain Washing over two Lovers in the rain. • Donovan Baldwin000
- GASPING HER RESPONSEIn Poetry·October 13, 2023gasping her response to his touches like whispers... breathed upon her skin • Donovan Baldwin000
- PETALS OF THE BLOOMIn Poetry·October 13, 2023Fingers carefully and gently Open the petals of a precious flower, Dip within sweet flowing nectar, Hovering in fevered flight, Touching in amorous dance As swift and hasty steps quicken Emergence of the flowing honey, So sweet to sip directly from Dripping petals of the bloom. • Donovan Baldwin000
- AS OUR THUNDER CRASHESIn Poetry·October 13, 2023You are my wind, I set my sails To catch your power, So we can soar Upon a common tempest, Where together we Ride the storm, Holding tight to one anther As our thunder crashes, Lighting flashes, Until the climactic crescendo, When we, wet with the torrent, Seek our earth again. • Donovan Baldwin000
- DRAWS FORTH HER PASSIONSIn Poetry·October 13, 2023draws forth her passions his hands painting with broad strokes... fingertip details • Donovan Baldwin001
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