| desert fences
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Ananke
| desert fences | 1 |
carousel in the canyon | 2 |
tilted like wire-perched | 3 |
ducklings | 4 |
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pueblos look like flat lines | 5 |
on coloring book pages | 6 |
and all the wrong colors | 7 |
are crayoned in. | 8 |
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i suppose i've never seen | 9 |
a pueblo before without | 10 |
a pablito. | 11 |
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3 Jul 09 |
Rated 9 (8.7) by 6 users.
Active (6): 1, 6, 10, 10, 10, 10
Inactive (2): 6, 10
(define the words in this poem)
(81 more poems by this author)
(1 user considers this poem a favorite)
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Comments:
makes me think of art class in the 4th grade, when we would learn the use of crayons, i love the desert fences, i can see , feel them now tilted of course from high desert winds cold cracked wood weather from time , not much use except for artists... very pleasant to read, i wish i could use fewer words ,come up with wire perched ducklings, excellent... j.g. smiles
— goeszon
'carousel' turns into a verb, and i maybe think that's the doorway to a poem in this one?
— trashpoodle
i like the set of images in this...carousel...it reminds me of a pablo neruda poem"my soul is a empty carousel at sunset..."...i don't think your done...but i like it so far...
— brother_sun
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— unknown
Please share with us your pablito... this is so much fun to come back too an read, so very pleasant
so I find myself heading your way again an again... i wish i had written this it deserves more notice
here... please give a heads up on your next piece... j. g. smiles
— goeszon
crazi
— crab
I love this piece so much... it makes my shoulders feel warm from the sun, my eye squint cause they are blue, as the azure skies over the pueblos, the sand is warm to my feet, clean sand where the horny toad shuffle under it to hide for the next ant... crows play out there duties although i don't know why there here, this desert fence gnarled and soft to the hands as you rub them warm you feel the nooks and the crannies the post pushed to an angle from the winds nature has supplied over the many years , this was a time i would have like to adventure feeling the desert fence and walking in the sand. j.g. smiles
— ambiguos
very nice
— uncjaf
I still can't forget those desert fences, carousels, in sand colored canyons of time... pueblos washed from summer rain storms and torrents that ran the arroyos, people gone for unknown reasons, now for us to think about, all because of desert fences... I would see these things in words, now colors on the pages plenty, only wrong by the seers eye... I will never be without these desert fences, I claimed them as a favorite one time... j.g.smiles
— goeszon
j.g. this poem has stuck with you for so long! You need to write a poem about your own desert fences. I can tell that you would have much to share on it.
By the way, when I wrote this, I had never actually seen the desert. But I have since traveled to Arizona, saw the Grand Canyon, Las Vegas. It is truly another world than what I am used to.
— Ananke
one should be beddy careful gwen inboking the 'compassionate diminutive'
in engleesh
moochas grayceass
— unknown
why, does it translate to he has a little peter?
— Ananke
POSSIBLY IN luxembourgish
but then agins
howd bood i knowles dis
Panchito
— unknown
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