poetry-sarongs.blogspot.com
Sarongs: soft charcoal lines - sketch 1
http://poetry-sarongs.blogspot.com/2009/08/soft-charcoal-lines-unfinished-sketch.html
C) Nicky Goodman, poems prosepoems flashfiction. Sunday, August 2, 2009. Soft charcoal lines - sketch 1. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). Pieces of cloth, tapestry to hanky, the material, the canvas, those quilts, patches, shawls - a few colourful poems, proseypoems, and short fiction. Charcoal, sketch 2. Soft charcoal lines - sketch 1. View my complete profile. Canadian Poetry: Season of Stealth. Circles and Straight Lines. What we don't need in a poem about nakedness. What An. Arsehole.
poetry-sarongs.blogspot.com
Sarongs: L'Haim (To Life, a toast...)
http://poetry-sarongs.blogspot.com/2009/07/lhaim-to-life-toast.html
C) Nicky Goodman, poems prosepoems flashfiction. Monday, July 27, 2009. L'Haim (To Life, a toast.). There is no pain like birth. Forgotten under the umbrella. Of soft arms,. All the wet, and the dry. Just as it is, awake. Or sleeping gently, since,. Every sunny day and storm. Is just weather; a blanket, umbrella,. The cradle of safe arms,. Raised into the air, and kissed. To sleep in peace. Ah, Nicky, this made me tingle! Im serious. Beautiful and cozy. Comforting and hopeful. July 29, 2009 at 11:59 AM.
poetry-sarongs.blogspot.com
Sarongs: Milo's Yellow Digger
http://poetry-sarongs.blogspot.com/2009/04/milos-yellow-digger.html
C) Nicky Goodman, poems prosepoems flashfiction. Monday, April 27, 2009. Milo said, "Why's that phone got legs? A TV advert and we discussed it at great length. A perfectly reasonable question as we wandered to the beach. We fixed our patch, one towel each, in eyeshot. Of family groups encamped behind boozy windbreakers. Boys and girls took buckets and spades out into no-mans-land,. Empire building. Construction. Pride on little faces, as one. And each hoped for some fairness in destruction. As tears fel...
poetry-sarongs.blogspot.com
Sarongs: Sunsets
http://poetry-sarongs.blogspot.com/2009/06/sunsets.html
C) Nicky Goodman, poems prosepoems flashfiction. Thursday, June 11, 2009. Do you know how beautiful you are to me? You knock the spots off any simile. For you there are none - you are the sea,. The pitch, the fixed twinkle map, a pitcher. Of shooting lasers pointing direction lightly. Sunsets have written your name. In inky clouds your shape; and I am your page,. A colour wheel watermark running through veins. If I am to be, it is of you, an almanac. Of words and moving picture. View my complete profile.
poetry-sarongs.blogspot.com
Sarongs: The kids I know and the upset chair
http://poetry-sarongs.blogspot.com/2009/12/kids-i-know-and-upset-chair.html
C) Nicky Goodman, poems prosepoems flashfiction. Friday, December 18, 2009. The kids I know and the upset chair. It is in their art, stories and poems,. And witnessing the good memories. We hang on the classroom wall,. So when a car backfires. And they separate or shatter,. There is the room they are standing in,. And someone there, in the far off distance,. Looking at the moving stories in wallpaper, saying,. It's alright, we are all alright here now. Do you see your chair? Take your time,. Wait without...
poetry-sarongs.blogspot.com
Sarongs: The Key
http://poetry-sarongs.blogspot.com/2009/12/key.html
C) Nicky Goodman, poems prosepoems flashfiction. Friday, December 11, 2009. If you lived in the next door apartment. I would take my chair downstairs. And sit opposite, open the book,. Pour a cup from the flask. And wait, reading. And when your laser pen. Beamed through the peaking curtains. Shining a heart shaped light. On the pages - I'd smile,. Finish the chapter, close the book,. Pack up the flask, cup, chair. Naked on the sheets. My glass between her legs. My smile between her teeth. C) Nicky Goodma...
poetry-sarongs.blogspot.com
Sarongs: Blessing
http://poetry-sarongs.blogspot.com/2009/05/blessing.html
C) Nicky Goodman, poems prosepoems flashfiction. Friday, May 1, 2009. Geranium; she says, 'Over there! And he says,. Walking on. Silver Princess; Lavender;. By the light of the fisherman's hut, I swear I saw. A shadow.' Bush Iris; Bottlebrush; Red Lily; and She. Oak down the winding path to sea. She is wearing. Orange Oil and Frankincense, yesterday's scent. A shade undercut. Fringed Violet; Mulla Mulla. And Sundew to the sand, where a woman in Musk. Is placing a garland around her neck. 10 Rupees. As th...
poetry-sarongs.blogspot.com
Sarongs: Trapeze
http://poetry-sarongs.blogspot.com/2009/08/trapeze.html
C) Nicky Goodman, poems prosepoems flashfiction. Tuesday, August 18, 2009. I stopped for a Barman on the sand, resting - a philosophical kind. He debated happiness, dis-ease and The Questioning Mind. Are you happy now? I put my maps down, we drank; watched a couple tie a thin red line between two coconut trees, elasticized and weighted at each end. "Have you ever walked the Trapeze, my friend? Pointless to think of your feet - you must put your soul over there - and go toward it.". Charcoal, sketch 2.
poetry-sarongs.blogspot.com
Sarongs: If he were on vacation..
http://poetry-sarongs.blogspot.com/2011/02/if-he-were-on-vacation.html
C) Nicky Goodman, poems prosepoems flashfiction. Tuesday, February 1, 2011. If he were on vacation. If he were on vacation in Florida as a kid. And saw a girl drowning in a pool,. Wondered, in the time standing still,. 8220;Why isn’t anyone doing anything? Where are her parents? How can all the adults carry on laughing,. Slapping lotions, reading books? And in the time it takes afterwards,. Had he dived in and pulled. Her rag doll body off the bottom, heaved her. Clothes dripping in a hotel room,. I love...
poetry-sarongs.blogspot.com
Sarongs: Surfer's Winter Tonic
http://poetry-sarongs.blogspot.com/2009/04/surfers-winter-tonic.html
C) Nicky Goodman, poems prosepoems flashfiction. Saturday, April 25, 2009. Well after riding the surf, when I wash up. On the shoreline of evening, drunk. On the refreshing keynotes in music,. You are like ice,. Checking your watch, eyes to the starry sky,. Your breath fanning a camp-fire burning. For the warmest brew of full bodied heat,. Where you are all night my dream,. The esprit d’escalier of waves coming in. We rise from the beach mat sheets,. Your morning growl animating the verve. We don’t...
