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libramoon Profile
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call and response


Call and Response
 

Clinging to the stories we learned at tv's knee
Ensorcelled by those glittering stores lining every street
Sure that might has taken the ground defining rights
Cynically forsaken, belief in heroic knights
We aren't sheep to slaughter, although of bone and meat
Nor cattle to be ordered by our grades of beef
We're children, with our wonder obscured by others' dreams
Chastised not to blunder, to supplicate and bleed
To break from such enchantment, from thrall to All insane
First learn to break the viral binds, vitalize, reframe
 

February 18, 2012
Feb/18/2012, 6:03 pm Link to this post Send Email to libramoon   Send PM to libramoon Blog
 
Terreson Profile
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Re: call and response



Good one, Libra. Hands down best line:

We're children, with our wonder obscured by others' dreams


Tere
Feb/18/2012, 8:09 pm Link to this post Send Email to Terreson   Send PM to Terreson
 
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Re: call and response


* deep bow *
* wide smile *
Feb/18/2012, 11:14 pm Link to this post Send Email to libramoon   Send PM to libramoon Blog
 
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Re: call and response


After seeing SD's poem a day initiative, it occurred to me to want a "call and response" game thread (has this been done here before?). Something like a jam.


Mar/18/2012, 7:22 pm Link to this post Send Email to libramoon   Send PM to libramoon Blog
 
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Re: call and response


Hi Libra,

No, it hasn't been done before. Except for WS's emotions game thread, we haven't done much in the way of "community" threads on the board. Thanks for starting this one! It's funny because just yesterday I was thinking about the way your work often "calls" to readers to "collaborate in adventure." When I think of you, I often think of the word collaboration, and viola!
Mar/19/2012, 7:25 am Link to this post Send Email to Katlin   Send PM to Katlin
 
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Re: call and response


How does it work, Libra? Sorry, I don't know what a jam is either...

Chris
Mar/19/2012, 9:43 am Link to this post Send Email to Christine98   Send PM to Christine98
 
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Re: call and response


Hey Chris,

Simple. Someone writes an extemporaneous piece and then someone else jams off of it, and so on........
Mar/19/2012, 12:42 pm Link to this post Send Email to libramoon   Send PM to libramoon Blog
 
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Re: call and response


OK, are you going to kick it off, Libra? I'll
join in. Kat, are you game?

Chris

Mar/20/2012, 8:33 am Link to this post Send Email to Christine98   Send PM to Christine98
 
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Re: call and response


I promise to read and to respond as the Muse move's me. Ready, Muse?
Mar/20/2012, 10:35 am Link to this post Send Email to Katlin   Send PM to Katlin
 
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Re: call and response


Spring Fever


Such a psychotic mess
Such a mood slave
Prickly dendrites, echoes of abandoned lives.
Voiceless words compel, demand hearing.
Why do they beg at my door, cloying, whining,
grabbing at my eyes with scarring claws?
I who possess only obsessed carvings of dried blood,
only curdled nightmares where I've lost my way,
lost the thread that was to sew me whole.
Shiny coins twinkle, fit so comfortingly in
cyborg skin's mechanical slot.
Brite tinkly musical phrases effervesce.
Beautiful, hungry dancers consume,
piranhic bliss.
No magical kiss, no fated lover to heal
and carry me home.
My gifts spurned or derided for their
inexcusable tackiness, stinking with mold
and decay, cannot pay any price.
Mock, if you must for warmth.
I curl against entropy into a trashed
cardboard box of stale air.


March 20, 2012
Mar/20/2012, 2:49 pm Link to this post Send Email to libramoon   Send PM to libramoon Blog
 
Katlin Profile
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Re: call and response


Not a good poem, not much of a poem at all, but my response:

spring fever

such a neurotic mess
such a mood slave
old trances triggered
old spells recast
    
familiar familial voices
hard not to heed them
difficult to ignore as
a close companion's snore

can't befriend them
or upend them
gotta transcend them
somehow

want to call my friend
but he's dead now
his words hover on
be very kind to each other
and remember who loves you

yes yes dear friend
but not today's ill
isn't it time really time
do it just do it
be very kind to yourself
and remember to love you


Last edited by Katlin, Apr/1/2012, 7:09 pm
Mar/27/2012, 9:40 am Link to this post Send Email to Katlin   Send PM to Katlin
 
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Re: call and response


Mine probably wasn't a very good poem for this game; but it was what was on my mind. Thanks for responding. It is quite a good response. I'll see if I can find a response to it in me.
Mar/27/2012, 3:17 pm Link to this post Send Email to libramoon   Send PM to libramoon Blog
 
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Re: call and response


Remember, remember, love is the ember.
Catch fire to your mind, to your brutal
December,
to your losses cast upon a lotus sea.
Hold for your life, upon this memory;
into this lonely Moon of sad reflection
send those longing nights when no one
remembered you.
Can you recall, reanimate, reconnect?
Can you forestall, hold so close there can never be bisection? Can a silent echo fill so completely, instill ever enriching, radiate that instant, that bond?
Is the memory of a song,
the distant weep of times so long bereft of sweet release, a mantra moving mind beyond
self-imprisonment for a crime of passion?

Mar/27/2012, 10:11 pm Link to this post Send Email to libramoon   Send PM to libramoon Blog
 
Katlin Profile
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Re: call and response


Libra, I'm glad you posted Spring Fever. Without your poem as a prompt, I never would have written what I wrote.
Mar/28/2012, 10:04 am Link to this post Send Email to Katlin   Send PM to Katlin
 
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Re: call and response


as always, you are so very welcome
Mar/28/2012, 3:09 pm Link to this post Send Email to libramoon   Send PM to libramoon Blog
 
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Re: call and response


from a Fool's journey


Scryed from my mind, upon this cyber page

It's not that everything old is new again;
or that nothing unique arises under the Sun.
Creative thinkers derive and develop ideas
already in their psychic maze.
Meanwhile, unfazed, unasked reality evolves
along its merry way.
New maps for old appear each day.
Most of us just follow the crowd,
caught up in focus on our current task,
using what tools come to hand,
what we've been taught.
(Badmouth the disorderly man -- the message lost,
never usefully discussed.)
We want to believe in stability,
in natural laws that are fair and make sense.
Convinced, we are happier to float in a bubble
outside of duration,
insured against consequence
of change.


April 1, 2012
Apr/1/2012, 4:49 pm Link to this post Send Email to libramoon   Send PM to libramoon Blog
 
Katlin Profile
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Re: call and response


Hi Libra,

I've noticed your poems like to cut through the clutter and get down to the raw nub of the matter.

"It's not that everything old is new again;
or that nothing unique arises under the Sun.
Creative thinkers derive and develop ideas
already in their psychic maze."

You've reminded me of a something I read the other day and thought to post in the Right Words forum:

"Simply put, it is as if, when we put ourselves aside, divest ourselves of the weighty burden of our habits, knowledge, and memories, we are free to make all things new." Bamford

It's so easy, for me at least, to forget that. And this too:

"Remember, remember, love is the ember."

 


  
Apr/2/2012, 5:06 pm Link to this post Send Email to Katlin   Send PM to Katlin
 
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poetry month day 2 (year of prophecies)


We Didn't Know

Efficient development requires deprivement
No profit, no playground to feel alive in
Those few groomed for career cheer, mocking
"Can't you hear; that's freedom knocking."
"Work for rent, or stay in school, dude."
You get no cake for being a loser.
Orwell warned "Big Brother is watching."
We didn't know he meant on you-tube.
We didn't know our life was a crime
Sentenced from birth to pay all our time
Cast from the truck to the roadside to rot
Drawn outside of luck, all about what you're not.
Media screams their required truth feud.
Sell saturated garbage labeled food.
Orwell warned; we were warned:
"The best of you will be co-opted."
We didn't know they meant on you-tube.


April 2, 2012
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Re: poetry month day 2 (year of prophecies)


Libra, this says everything I've been thinking lately---especially the conditioning calculated (I believe) to erase feelings of compassion--which are really the ability to identify with/as the other-- those 'mirror' cells in our brains which allow us to learn by mirroring actions--now there's a pervasive contempt, leading to justification of/actual revelry in sadistic treatment of those perceived to be, simply, losers. No identification for fear of the certain consequences. youtube and reality tv.

"You get no cake for being a loser."

Thanks for this,

Chris

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poetry month day 3 (year of prophecies)


Pageantry


Could Christian Fundamentalism be the dread AntiChrist,
and greedy Wall Street his ravenous Beast?
Could the Second Coming be prides of young
claiming back the streets?
Could Prophecies feared and hoped
to bring Sinners to our knees
to lift the Holy into just reward
by Blessed Hero's mighty sword
defending, avenging the meek --
Could that parade be before us,
just not the scene we believed,
preached to prove the righteous right?
Has the final fight foretold been taking form,
storm clouds positioned for a hard rain to fall,
untidy time of transition as soothsayers call,
alarm bells chime?
Is the end of this trial of dependence nigh?
Can we break the Jesus code, create out of
Apocalypse our own golden age, reign
of Peace?


April 3, 2012
Apr/3/2012, 2:32 pm Link to this post Send Email to libramoon   Send PM to libramoon Blog
 
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Re: call and response


Sacred Calling


Cloistered for warmth in this area between.
I've learned its scenery, like lattice worked into my eyes.
Slowly turning toward a wise relief, pausing at this door,
portal to awesome wonderment, pure radiant bliss
dispelling knots of pain and betrayal.
Magnetic psyche searing brand,
archetype of mystic dreams carried through
into the world of Man -- I come to the promised land,
potent stream of prophecy.
Commanded, I lay down my burden, weight against my back
of gathered assets I was certain to require.
Freed to meet my mission, to accept desire,
immortal pleasure, the opportunity to sketch,
to draw out beauty, to paint leisurely upon prism glass.
Have I reached the bridge upon the crossroads, the glimmering?
Magick's sea through which I now may travel, native soul
returned, having earned my keep, my long journeyman's
wage. I have looked at age, a deep reflective pond.
A wild road calls, beyond this threshold, sculpted by
oceanic power, drifts and meteors. I feel self-created destiny
shudder slowly, seismically, move me as I prepare


April 17, 2012

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Good to see you posting here again, Libra. Love the sound and sense of this:

"having earned my keep, my long journeyman's/ wage. I have looked at age, a deep reflective pond."

hope to see more of you,

Chris
Apr/17/2012, 7:46 pm Link to this post Send Email to Christine98   Send PM to Christine98
 
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Hey libra,

I read "Pagentry" when you first posted it, and it made me think. Returning to it now (after flipping through the TV channels on Sunday morning and pausing to watch an Evangelical sermon on Revelations: anti-Christ, Israel, the rapture and what it all means to God-fearing Christians), it makes me think even more and serves as a kind of anti-dote. Thank you.
Apr/18/2012, 7:42 am Link to this post Send Email to Katlin   Send PM to Katlin
 
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Re: call and response


Thanks for the encouraging comments! Sorry, to just post and go ... but, ya know how it goes

Picture This


Miles of silken meadow
Green grain and brilliant petals
Lovely buzzing, lively hopping
Warm, yellow light at play
Mellow, serene
Luscious wash of pleasure
Rolling flowered meadow
Fragrantly clean
 
Humming jewels of moments,
Senses open
Bare, free dancing
Caressing grassy meadow
Awakening dream


April 18, 2012

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Re: call and response


Libra, I've read recent postings and am especially drawn to respond to the one called Sacred Calling, which really speaks to me. This is beautiful, stunning:
quote:

I've learned its scenery, like lattice worked into my eyes.



I am also struck by much more. For example the whole ending:
quote:

Have I reached the bridge upon the crossroads, the glimmering?
Magick's sea through which I now may travel, native soul
returned, having earned my keep, my long journeyman's
wage. I have looked at age, a deep reflective pond.
A wild road calls, beyond this threshold, sculpted by
oceanic power, drifts and meteors. I feel self-created destiny
shudder slowly, seismically, move me as I prepare



... but most particularly the part about "I have looked at age, a deep reflective pond" -- YES. And the wild road that calls to you (I know that call, I believe) and then: self-created destiny (the best concept ever and one that I think we earn/learn with age). I can feel all the seismic movement of a lifetime and a creative magick that results in this moment and in you, preparing....

The middle of the poem gets a little lost in the abstract for me personally. But I think this is lusciously full of promise.

BTW, I plan to use that phrase, self-created destiny, from this moment forward (always giving credit to you, Libra) as a byword for living....

 
Apr/18/2012, 6:48 pm Link to this post Send Email to vkp   Send PM to vkp Blog
 
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Risen

Sky born, lifted into life above
Water, Earth, primordial mud.
Bare breath and lilting light float, carry insubstantial
tongues, bitter yet sweet. Exultation, daring
to swoop, touch,
breeze briefly complete with
flowering waves.
Winter Gods glaze over mountain peaks,
rocky rivers, mother's eyes.
She gives suck embalmed in dream,
engulfed in smoke of smelting flame,
gasping, tropically turning, blind, yet
beyond fear. She regurgitates paste of
air, light, instinct, held together with spit
and love. Taste her sacrifice.
A world drifts. Black night backlit in
pinpricks. Atmosphere built like bioluminescence,
symphonic, symbiotic. Hear as rippling elements
grow words, symbolic histories, into a Summer game.
Out here, sparkling rain weaves rainbows. Reverence
casts poetry as shimmer and shadow play.
Up here, beyond boundaries of ordinary days,
the only Commandment to penetrate --
Be Peace


April 19, 2012


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420 2012


Dazzling Genie, weaving scenes of wizardry
upon the dusty window of my gaze.
Champion of crazy crippled dreamers, lazily
giving wing o'er wondrous glades. Simple,
serene days; nights of stars, Moonbeams,
ecstatic serenades, mystics' bliss.
My nightmares exchanged for a kiss of your majesty;
enduring pain relearns its place, energy
refocused by your trail. Enthralled, at peace,
inspired by your tales of labyrinth space and time.
Honoured, awed by your divine gift, I become
at one
with grace


4/20/2012

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Whoa! Yet another reason I enjoy our board as much as I do. Protein rich, this thread.

Tere
Apr/22/2012, 12:55 pm Link to this post Send Email to Terreson   Send PM to Terreson
 
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Re: call and response


metawakening



Sharal the Hunter runs from the Warrior of Destruction. She has lost all honor, all reason, all possessions but the skins that cover her.
Her village burns, all she has known forever ashes.
This ought to be a nightmare.
Here, now, it is horribly ... overwhelming.
Heart, blood, breath, these are what matter understands.
Mind is elsewhere. It has screamed into submission, reptilian --
Heart, blood, breath.


Terror reverberates
shakes tree limbs, wavers
vision. Terror waits ahead.
Grabbing strength enough to veer,
steer clear,
running thoughtless through loss,
unafraid of the unexpected, uncharted,
new.
Unencumbered by old terrors,
expectations.
Ready by necessity to make do,
to start from simplest principles.
Who am I, today?
Tomorrow will take care
of itself.


April 24, 2012

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Re: call and response


In anticipation


Pocket poem
Traveling homes for small companions
along litanies of lines, lights, local roads,
random highways, winding drunken mountain careens,
heart throbs of cruiser blare and glare,
joyrides miles unbroken hoping for
a magnificent end.
Hidden in deep coat pockets,
memorabilia can shock consciousness
in fast pain of crumbled dreams,
once was; but lost to sadness.
Pockets full of luscious chocolates,
coins for parking meters, warm
wool mittens, an embroidered cotton
handkerchief still smelling of lilac.
 
 
April 25, 2012
 
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Celebrate national Poem In Your Pocket Day on Thursday, April 26, 2012!

The idea is simple: select a poem you love during National Poetry Month then carry it with you to share with co-workers, family, and friends. You can also share your poem selection on Twitter by using the hashtag #pocketpoem.

Poems from pockets will be unfolded throughout the day with events in parks, libraries, schools, workplaces, and bookstores. Create your own Poem In Your Pocket Day event using ideas below or let us know how your plans, projects, and suggestions for Poem In Your Pocket Day by emailing npm@[sign in to see URL].

Apr/25/2012, 2:45 pm Link to this post Send Email to libramoon   Send PM to libramoon Blog
 


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