Krakatoa Kritic 007

Bri E. may be so smart, but his meter's opaque
with a density quotient, the Gods might forsake.
Tongue in cheek, web's undone, but with spasms of fun,
and he rhymes, so he wins! Hope no evil Bri twins'
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May my blessings all reach you if Spirit has home,
has an address (like I do, location) . Let gift
of this poem be present that pleasures your soul.
Know I certainly cherished your kinship, felt rhyme,
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It's a struggle for some, life alone in one skin,
(that confuses the best!) What's it mean then to win
if a victory's rote, like a verse memorized
with an audience pared down (to one authorized) ?
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A friendship's here for you (that's free) , so pass it on (no pass-backs) ,
where walls can fall (constricting heart) . So pass it on (no pass-backs) .
My arms? (The warmth of poetry! So pass it on (no pass-backs) ,
that would not mock, support your art!) So pass it on (no pass-backs) .
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I find that friendship is a gift I want to give at times to strang-
ers though clear logic's trace is missing (should the cat get out of bag!)
and it's found motive's ghost's a glimmer that's more tightly bound to muse
(this life's what-ifs bent on a rampage where stampede of clouds crowd sky) .
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I'd be your friend though you aren't mine,
don't ever send me Valentine.
My poems shine with love that's true
if they don't share your point of view.
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Good titles make ‘life' verse for me
(romantic, cliff notes, fantasy) ,
though they do dictate trails I take,
my vision's mine (that's no mistake!) .
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1. bluebird's ear's to ground -
pink collared worm (casts below)
now won't grace black hook
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Some poems' births explode (full bore) , life ends when written down,
their flow makes toothpicks of my pen, brain chokes on truth laid bare,
a flash that flares, a splash of cognac in cook's pan (taste's light!)
While others grow more leisurely, gestation delicate,
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'Dead to rights' says I love you, no 'deed' makes you mine!
Love's a gift born each second, there's no valentine,
no shared thought (need that's met) . There's no poem to write
or a dream one must hide. Love's a high-flying kite
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I'm just life's fool (some see) in all my poetry!
My heart leans more toward 'jam, ' not posturing 'I AM! '
love's faith's more questioning when it feels born to sing.
Rhyme liberates my verse though 'blanks' judge it perverse!
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Once in a while, my love tastes (Lord) fond kisses!
Once in a while, born a whispered, 'I love you! '
Once in a while, you leave treats this fool misses!
Once in a while, I feel smiles when we argue!
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Let me honor you here though you're shy
to show face on a page, even try

to draw thoughts from the cloud of your mind,
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If John (or Jane) , a spouse (or bike)can bring butt pain
and some fools in pursuit of mere bliss think both tools.
Most fighters win rounds (one or two) . But do they fight to win (for you) ?
Some might say I'm a blighter. Still, new bikes are lighter!
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Life's Fading Rodeo?

While I'm glad of your retirement from less fruitful goals you've chased,
still, the big sky's grown some smaller by concerns (and verse displaced?) .
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I'm channeled rhymes, perspectives of young poet late in life!
Evolving too, I hope to please, share reveries a wife
(Scheherazade) shows to her spouse (loved patrons, here confessed) ,
who fears both too, for wives do fail, find heads divorce their chest.
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Let me honor your presence (dot chalked on ‘blacksky') ,
as my poems (muse offers) make light in faint hope
that one day you'll look skyward and grok my light too,
though the distance stays greater than words can unearth,
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Let those comment who kill with soft words when they ‘get' you!
Should we hold praise hostage, retreat when we can't see
reciprocal giftings that laud what we write in return?
My take's yours if you like it, still yours if you don't, but
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I do not see the poem here I posted just last night.
Is it too soon? The why's not clear, I feel emerging fright,
and I'm here blushing in the wings! Will curtain find its part,
an audience know love verse sings, mood synthesized by heart?
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My boyfriend calls me 'potty mouth'
'cause I can go on so.
But loves me still, as hope you will
know 'bird' that fields no cage
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