Alex gets full marks in just about every category in this chapter: for restraint, for imagination, for cookery...but most of all, for walking hand in hand with Liam. And you show us how much Liam really wants all of Alek - not just the physical contact, but the whole man he is falling back in love with. Thanks for showing these things to us.
Life is living in your dreams. you make a very powerful claim here, and one could argue it is true. But of course, the spoilsport nerds like me come along and find things that rankle. No matter. This is a very beautiful poem, and I love it for the truth it exposes in me, and for many, I suspect. Thank you for writing and for sharing it with us.
It feels so good to know you found these sixteen bottles of spice to be rewarding. It is amazing what tiny draft of air can bring to the senses. And in some way, I wonder if most of us don't want to hear those last two words. Thank you for your very kind and generous thoughts.
I was hurt by someone who I trusted. But that time is long ago, now. Funny how old wounds sometimes twinge, isn't it? That person would never guess he's remembered this way in this hour. Thanks for reading this, and responding to it.
Good thing you know about air conditioning, eh? Might need to turn it up a notch. Seriously, though, I am glad you liked this. Hope the whole collection adds a dash of colour and heat to your days from time to time. Thanks very much for reading this!
You put me in mind of a completely different sort of spice rack. I am glad this helped you get your day off to a good start. Hope it is merely a beginning, and the rest of the day is ordered as you wish.
Thank you, Def. These Spice Rack poems were fun to write, and this particular one had quite a lot of flavor. It was good to save it for last. If you come back to them once in a while, I shall be delighted.
And there are any number of bottles and packets still unopened. Glad you liked the selections made from the rack. And yes, it was fun to save the spiciest for the final offering.
Kneeling –
head down, wrists locked,
tense anticipation
of reward or punishment – thrills
my frame;
light airs
reveal your scent, your presence near;
I feel your hard power,
hear your low growl
You're mine.
I got there, eventually. After sleeping on the airport floor overnight, too tired to be livid. These were written as a good way to vent, as my difficulties were not made by the ground staff or flight crew.
Thank you for that. It is invariably at one's most anxious times that misconnections and delays occur. Must be some corollary of Murphy's Law. But writing helped in the moment, even if these were originally done in block caps.
I have the feeling that Dante would have enjoyed updating the Inferno in our modern era. Or maybe he would have simply added more layers of hell to include hub airports. Thanks very much for reading these and for your lovely response.
The sense of powerlessness and anxiety was quite overpowering until I pulled out my little poetry notebook and started writing. Funny how just penning these words spread a little oil on my troubled waters. So was the power of the pen demonstrated. But still, given the state of mind of the other passengers, perhaps it's just as well nobody had a sword. Many thanks for reading this!
Anger
and frustration
at delay on delay
builds like awesome thunderheads in
August;
no doubt
we look placid at a distance,
but roil and seethe inside
with destructive
lightning.
Perhaps
we will take off,
or maybe sit some more
on pavement's purgatory, the
runway;
condemned
to hear the cries of innocents,
worries of the anxious,
and sounds of teeth
grinding.
My flight
was cancelled early,
and rebooked for evening,
took off
Chocolate is quite bitter in its raw state. Mixed with other ingredients, it is sublime. That doesn't stop the palate from being aware, however. Thank you for enjoying this offering.