circling me

[SmileGRL]

your woRds are whirlwinds
running through my mind
like miniature wiLd horses
on merry go rounds
on rEd bull gives you wings
makes you an angeL, or a kiNg
or a very silly thing that lights uP the dark
and it's all juSt touch & go, blindfolded
with only your voice guiding me home
hoMe where? whEre is there?
& wHo are you? circling above around
insiDe of me & i am standing very still
in the eye of the storm
it's warm in here & i dOn't want to go
but i woNder sometimes if this is real
& sometimes i know
with you i'll aLways run free
yeS. you touch me deep
tHAt is not the question
but it iS why
your words are little whiRLwinds
circling circling iNside of me

[mtmynd]

"miniature wiLd horses
on merry go rounds
on rEd bull"

that took me by surprise! very cool stuff.
i feel the immediacy in which you wrote this. am i wrong?

enjoyed, friend!

[SmileGRL]

immediacy? yes. these days i write everything with immediacy, but then it lies on my desk written on paper, until i find the time or the courage to type it and maybe post it somewhere, because what if it's all shit but it iS what's brewing in my mind

thank you for enjoying, my friend, mr cecil of the mountain mind. i am always honored by your replies.

[hester_prynne]

Hey grl, immediacy or not, the delicacy of this is delishous and fine.
It whirls me....and I dig that most muchly....
H

[mtmynd]

mountain mind is actually empty mind but hey! it's only words, eh? i really like mountains alot... my favorite geographical area by far.

we are our own worst critics. don't know how many things i've painted, drawn or written that i thought were shit and then somebody stumbles across them and asks why that ((shit)) is just sitting there doing nothing... they like it. go figure.

[SmileGRL]

miss hester...i dig it most muchly that my words whirled you. i very greatly appreciate that...


go figure! cecil...oh but the word is mightier than the sword! and i mean it with the utmost respect. our own worst critics? yes, we are. specially me. (i always say i have double standards)

[Lightning Rod]

very twisty and intriguing piece, smile
I'm still trying to decipher it

[SmileGRL]

oh, sorry about making it hard to decipher, LRod. sometimes i run with associations and that can make it a little complicated. plus i write about what's going on in my head and that can get pretty complicated too. it's a maze in there ask questions anytime.

& thanks for the "twisty & intriguing"

[Lightning Rod]

luckily, smile, I have an old Enigma machine captured from the nazis in '45
it can decode anything, even telephone bills and contracts
it tells me that your poem means: You are being inspired by a mystery muse and you understand it but not.
The Enigma machine give a little cough here
it knows that the capital letters are just a decoy
as soon as I can de-cypher the decryption, I will message you (in code of course)

[constantine]

i like this unusual piece - it doesn't resolve - it doesn't interpret - it just lays out the swirl of the interior realm - that has no linear meaning as such, but feels very familiar.

[saw]

listening can be enlightening...but we tend to to focus more on what we will say next, missing some wonderful opportunities for growth...
your poem to me, emphasizes the power of words that we store in the mind as mini cyclones for further consideration....if we spend all of our
time immersed in the limitations of own thoughts, we will surely
become a lunatic...or at least that's true in my case...ha...enjoyed
the ride.....peace....steve

[bennie2]

this reminds me of ani difranco - very feminine (whatever that means) but also very immediate and, therefore, sensual and honest.

whirlwinds...minature wild horses on merrygorounds...

lovely image. to make wild horses smaller... I think I'll probably play with that idea tonight when i get home. I'm having images of crazy whirlwind swirling horses tangoing around inverted clouds...

i enjoyed reading this, MJ.

[Arcadia]

calesitas and dynamic matriuskas!!!!!! Great poem, smgrl!!!!!

my favourite part (I love direct questions in poems!)

and it's all juSt touch & go, blindfolded
with only your voice guiding me home
hoMe where? whEre is there?
& wHo are you?

[SmileGRL]

LRod... cool! muse? yes. decoy? yes! in code...pls do

constantine...not resolving is a big thing for me, but it seems lately i just lay everything out on the table and let it be what it is. your reply is much appreciated, mr felix.

saw (steve)...VERY true. mini cyclones...exactly!

bennie...i would love to read the results of that!...tangoing horses swirling round and round inverting my eye like swirling rainbow jimmies in a bubblegum shake, psychedelic surprise... & ani difranco, etc...thanx! i consider ALL that a huge compliment.

(ps. rainbow jimmies or hundreds and thousands are those multicolor confectionary candies sprinkled over cake icing, ice cream etc. not sure everyone is familiar with that term...)


arcadia...good, because i love asking lots of questions. thanks for the "great"!!!

[bennie2]

we call them hundreds and thousands. there are never more than about 139 of them. I'm fairly sure of that! thouands? most definitely not! I've never heard rainbow jimmies before. sounds like a multi-coloured condom. who wants that on their ice cream?!

anyway, all of it was intended as compliment. your writing is wonderfully fluid without a hint of the mechanical.

---

in the middle of a hurricane -her. neglected. horse. in a sudden downwards swoop, engulfed, the daydream of her eyelash is whipped a thousand times and the shattered peninsula of her soul becomes apparent. fragmented, the little shattered islands dance in circular motions and horses gallop. their dance and flick of sand is music and light their nostril steamy breath is the air all three dance all three dance the stream of horses, with momentum, gallop: the force of the brigade is deafening.

the air above them splits and cuts and horses die in bleeding torment of self! from the red wreckage falls (or grows) sudden dead horses, miniature horses, wild and angular.

heroic shadows with bleeding tongues divulge the secrets of the dirt and with digging hoofs the miniature horses leap and spin and trot and dance. and their merry-go-round of drunken love is mirrored in the look of the sun as she falls low, cascading amongst the shadows of the trees, reflected in the eyes of bees,

the miniature horses wild and whirling leap into an angel's eye.
the sunshine slowly, softly singing, dies beneath her funeral pyre.