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      Registration -- to join PMO ***UPDATED INSTRUCTIONS***   03/14/2017

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      IMPORTANT: re Logging In to PMO ***Attention Members***   03/15/2017

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    • tonyv

      Blogs   05/01/2017

      Blogs are now accessible to Guests. Guests may read and reply to blog entries. We'll see how this works out. If Guest participation becomes troublesome, I'll disable Guest access. Members are encouraged to make use of the PMO Members' Promotional Blog to promote their published works. Simply add your latest entry to the blog. Include relevant information (your name or screen name, poem title, periodical name, hyperlink to the site where published, etc). If you have a lot of them and feel you need your own blog, let me know, and I will try to accommodate you. Members are encouraged to continue also posting their promotional topics in the Promotions forum on the board itself which is better suited for archiving promotions.
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badger11

After the funeral

Recommended Posts

revision3

there's a solace to be found
in nakedness lent against
the stone, the altar, the crucifix;
outside the graveyard chatter
of magpies, inside the hum
winged up to buzz - the hexagons
pulse with honey: and we
scorn the lure of prayer,
uncradle those if and buts;
winnow the air of saints -
stain the surplice, fray
a collar to free a flight

of butterflies, our tongues
wet with the broth of living.

 

 

revision2

there's a solace to be found
in nakedness lent against
the stone, the altar, the crucifix;
outside the endless argument
of magpies, inside the hum
winged up to buzz - the hexagons
pulse with honey: and we
scorn the lure of prayer,
uncradle those ifs and buts;
winnow the air of saints -
unwrap cold clothe, fray
a collar of cloud, free
a flight of butterflies, our tongues
wet with the broth of living.

 

 

 

 

revision

there's a solace to be found
in nakedness lent against
the stone, the altar, the crucifix;
outside is only a chatter
of magpies, inside the hum
of us winged up to buzz
within the pulse of hexagons
slick with honey: and so we
evade that lure of  prayer,
uncradle the ifs and buts;
winnow the air of saints -
unwrap a clothe of sky, fray
a collar of cloud to free
a flight of butterflies, our tongues
wet with the broth of living.

 

original

there's a solace to be found
in nakedness lent against
the wall, the door, the mirrors;
backs bent beyond bites - chatter
of magpies outside, the hum
of us wing'd up to buzz
with the pulse of hexagons
slick with honey: and so we
release this lure of lies,
uncradle ifs and buts -
winnow the air of names
in a room without clues,
unwrap a clothe of sky, fray
clouds to free a flight
of butterfly, clear a pond
of toxic bloom, our tongues
wet with the broth of living.

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Hi badge, I keep coming back and reading this and being reluctant to comment because for some reason the poem makes me feel uncomfortable. I continue to look for your revision which is pretty normal for you, hoping I won't feel this way after reading the new version. I can't even put my finger on it. Just wanted you to know I am not ignoring your piece. ~~Tink

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