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paulrapley.bsky.social
Sorry this is late - done in a rush
Thanks, Alan, for setting the challenge.
#poemsabout #DarkSky @alanparrywriter.co.uk
@thebrokenspine.co.uk
#poetrycommunity #poetry #PoetsWhoSupportPoets #KeepCreative #PoetsOfBlueSky
The Bortle Scale, from One to Four I think I’ve never seen the Milky Way, I said—at least, not registered it as such— for many years had churned since I’d not known that earthly lights would cancel out the stars and blanch stark blackness into tinted greys that mock the glistening fractured tears which mighty giants weep and beam to us in mourning for their snuffed-out spectral kin. Acknowledging their house amid the hills, set far from towns and screened from neighbours’ homesteads, crouching mute beneath the moonless sky, was blighting night’s eternal darkest blackness, blazing out its own illumination which, with a finger’s flick he might extinguish; and, learning of my longing to gaze further, he quenched the lights to outside space for me. The porch and drive and field and further workshop, the bend, the private road, and flanking trees sunk down to formless shadows while the vault of heaven permeated my tired eyes… Yet, where’s the Milky Way? I had to ask. Look up, above your head. Yes, she was there but faint, like long-lost memories of love or soaked-in, blotted, spilled ambrosia. My sister and his wife were still inside not drawn to stepping into chill and dark— perhaps not knowing quite why we were out, or even that we’d left. Their lights were on so, even near the bend, they teased our sky and sapped the Bortle scale. I’d not the cheek to ask, invite them to join in. That other star, he said, I think’s a satellite. Paul Rapley, 2025
August 8, 2025 at 4:46 PM
paulrapley.bsky.social
My stitch for the thread
#poemsabout #Glamour @alanparrywriter.co.uk @thebrokenspine.co.uk
#Authentic #TakeRisks #poetrycommunity #poetry #PoetsWhoSupportPoets #KeepCreative #PoetsOfBlueSky
[BTW my #waxtears effort was a rip-off of that wonderful novel, Charlotte Brontë's Jane Eyre.]
Look at Me I’d set my heart on all you loving me so learned the ways to catch your needy eye I’ve sussed the greedy blatancy of fame and how to blag a freebie with cool cheek I shine and strut with sleek insouciance while flashing charming smiles to devotees I’m setting shame apart for it is just that my smart clique should pleasure out its days since I was yearning for this as a child and mildness never stopped a bee’s despatch I shall be earning squillions at this mine as others bend the knee and trudge for miles I shall have been… What? Your bad. I was misled. I swear you’d said I had to stitch an epic thread on grammar. Paul Rapley 2025
July 25, 2025 at 6:21 AM
paulrapley.bsky.social
Re-reposting cos heavily indebted to writer far greater than me [As Harold Bloom said 'No, Thomas Stearns, not Dante] Anyone?
(2 pts)
#poemsabout #WaxTears @alanparrywriter.co.uk
@thebrokenspine.co.uk #Authentic #TakeRisks #poetrycommunity #poetry #PoetsWhoSupportPoets #KeepCreative #PoetsOfBlueSky
darkness, light, passion For shame! For shame! Lock up the mad cat! Red. Pink. Crimson. Mahogany. No jail was ever more secure. Rain beating, wind howling, fireplace blank violent tyrannies, proud indifference, plain aversion darkening deposits in my mind’s turbid well courage sinking cold into the coming night… Outside, a swift-darting beam, unrecognised [from the burning oil of a whale, perhaps] the herald of some coming vision from another world head hot, heart thick, the rushing of wings in my ears in terror i hear my cry… there was a stranger in the room soothing conviction of protection and security more tenderly than ever before, i felt raised, upheld before the warm fire and a friendly flame [from the combusting fat of sheep, no doubt] before he went out, and then the fire and the flame A loud bell ringing in bitter cold the girls up and dressing evincing fortitude under wintry privation night irked out by feeble glimmers [from the ignited pith of grease-dipped rushes, for sure] water frozen in the pitchers i let down the window and look out behind us, the town to judge by the number of its lights [from volatile components of coal, distributed, in main] a place of considerable magnitude
July 23, 2025 at 1:08 PM
paulrapley.bsky.social
#poemsabout #WaxTears @alanparrywriter.co.uk
@thebrokenspine.co.uk
& #Authentic #TakeRisks #poetrycommunity #poetry #PoetsWhoSupportPoets #KeepCreative #PoetsOfBlueSky
darkness, light, passion For shame! For shame! Lock up the mad cat! Red. Pink. Crimson. Mahogany. No jail was ever more secure. Rain beating, wind howling, fireplace blank violent tyrannies, proud indifference, plain aversion darkening deposits in my mind’s turbid well courage sinking cold into the coming night… Outside, a swift-darting beam, unrecognised [from the burning oil of a whale, perhaps] the herald of some coming vision from another world head hot, heart thick, the rushing of wings in my ears in terror i hear my cry… there was a stranger in the room soothing conviction of protection and security more tenderly than ever before, i felt raised, upheld before the warm fire and a friendly flame [from the combusting fat of sheep, no doubt] before he went out, and then the fire and the flame A loud bell ringing in bitter cold the girls up and dressing evincing fortitude under wintry privation night irked out by feeble glimmers [from the ignited pith of grease-dipped rushes, for sure] water frozen in the pitchers i let down the window and look out behind us, the town to judge by the number of its lights [from volatile components of coal, distributed, in main] a place of considerable magnitude
July 18, 2025 at 6:48 AM
karenpgonzalez.bsky.social
Wow, what a prompt! No need to say more. Will let this #PoemsAbout #WaxTears speak for itself. @thebrokenspine.co.uk @alanparrywriter.co.uk Thanks for: #ReadRepostReply. #PoetsSupportPoets #KeepCreative #PoetsOfBlueSky
after hours museum statues of bare breasted women, stoned into silence silenced by stone, cramped in candle lit corners drip tears for cracked ribs, broken limbs; waxy ghost arms and legs puppet-dance with shadows. From the rafters red winged blackbirds swoop down, build nests in the braids of their once hennaed hair.
July 18, 2025 at 5:40 AM
karenpgonzalez.bsky.social
Oh my Peter! So grateful for your kind words. And, no, you are not excused from this list of #poets to be thanked. 😘 #KeepCreative
July 16, 2025 at 12:35 AM
karenpgonzalez.bsky.social
I saw an art installation depicting this #HateCrime. Still haunts me. Happens TOO MANY times; once = too much. #PoemsAbout #BurnItDown @alanparry83.bsky.social @brokenspinearts.bsky.social #KeepCreative #PoetsSupportPoets #ReadRepostReply #AddAlt #PoetsofBlueSky #Poetry #PoetryCommunity #Racism
Texas Cottonwood My soft gray lumber walled this Black American church, a home you bastards burnt not to resurrect but to bury in ashes. Breastfed on blood distilled from shackling stolen people, thorn-yoked, in cages, you lit torches and sang Hell no, you aren’t free! Hell no, you aren’t free! My smooth branched roof charcoals the ground a young artist scours, gathering to his slave-descendant chest braised bits of bone, chipped teeth, seared splinters of hope to build an altar syllable by syllable, from beloved family names now forever out of your filthy reach, in the chapel of my yellow-green leaf canopy. Karen Pierce Gonzalez
July 4, 2025 at 5:37 AM
karenpgonzalez.bsky.social
Thank you Michelle. It isn't always easy to write about what we know, but rock bottom truths are always palpable. #poemsabout #itsasin
#keepcreative
#poetssupportpoets @alanparry83.bsky.social @brokenspinearts.bsky.social
June 27, 2025 at 2:55 PM
paulrapley.bsky.social
#poemsabout #ItsASin
@alanparry83.bsky.social @brokenspinearts.bsky.social
& #Authentic #TakeRisks #poetrycommunity #poetry #PoetsWhoSupportPoets #KeepCreative #PoetsOfBlueSky
rogue state frame zero shows some scrubby sneakers, masked— five tooled-up shapes which, catalogued, might pass for men—who prowl around a small box truck; at six, a shout plus baton strike (unasked) full totals the guy’s window; eight—sans class— you are, you fucking (incoherent); pluck the inner door lock up, pull wide the door— till more men drag the filmer to the floor; at eighteen: get him down! get the fuck down! while felled phone eavesdrops: you just fucking lay there! give me your fucking hand! crude barks can’t drown fierce scuffles off; on mic, the grim affray fair rends the ear; at thirty-two—you wannit? you gottit, sir, you fucking gottit—pale sky is blocked: smudged dark by faces forced upon it, snarling demi-wolves and curs who tie his hands: you wanna go to jail? (that’s) fine, you gottit; the face is glum, a concubine, quite plump and grey and passing forty, topped— like all—in adolescent cap, full stopped from intellectual thought by tribal hatred making brutalising action something sacred; you wanted it—you gottit; as radio instructs, one minute in: right, boom! (lurch) boom! the picture wobbles; get up sir, get up, the petty boss conducts his handcuffed quarries upwards; boss’s stricture: you wanna put your phone (back) in your pocket comes at one-o-five: the screen goes dark, while I Am Become Ice, Son Of Moloch! booms quite eerily around the vehicle park. Paul Rapley 2025
June 27, 2025 at 7:05 AM
karenpgonzalez.bsky.social
Content warning: this is my #raw response to this week's #PoemsAbout prompt #ItsASin @Alanparry83.bsky.social @brokenspinearts.bsky.social #TakingARisk #MayWeAllBeFreeFromHarm #KeepCreative #PoetsSupportPoets #Poetry #PoetsOfBlueSky
Honor thy father. I can’t. Shhhhh (his voice) smothers mine, a whimper before a god whose hands sin every inch of me. I cling no more to commandments. Lose myself in the popcorn ceiling that won’t pop. Wander textured kernel bumps alone and scared. Karen Pierce Gonzalez
June 27, 2025 at 6:11 AM
karenpgonzalez.bsky.social
My pleasure. Your poem captures the physicality of #transition with all its kinks and cracks and gives us a chance to commiserate and offer support, albeit virtually, for it's journey. #KeepCreative #PoetsSupportPoets
@alanparry83.bsky.social
June 21, 2025 at 6:29 PM
karenpgonzalez.bsky.social
Love: The morning is everything October can be - a liquid brightness. And how you hold this journey of #transition, mile by mile, is beautiful. #poemsabout @alanparry83.bsky.social #KeepCreative #PoetsSupportPoets
June 21, 2025 at 1:31 AM
karenpgonzalez.bsky.social
You show us how #transition, always in motion, feels and looks. Very well drawn, Lesley! #poemsabout @alanparry83.bsky.social #KeepCreative #PoetsSupportPoets
June 20, 2025 at 4:09 PM
karenpgonzalez.bsky.social
You weave magic in the final lines, Merril. A clear distinction between anticipated and experienced #transition (the opening lines and the close). A great read all the way. #Poemsabout @alanparry83.bsky.social #KeepCreative #PoetsSupportPoets
June 20, 2025 at 4:08 PM
karenpgonzalez.bsky.social
Roger: Do Not Throw This #PoemsAbout Away. It's a keeper, for sure. #Transition so beautifully captured in the first few lines. A very active, comprehensive piece moves easily between the unexpected and the mundane. A great read! @alanparry83.bsky.social #KeepCreative #PoetsSupportPoets
June 20, 2025 at 4:05 PM
karenpgonzalez.bsky.social
Love this: I got my wish though - I got older. A wish-come-true that can ironically turn on us and eat its own tail. A great #poemsabout #transition Thank you! @alanparry83.bsky.social #KeepCreative #PoetsSupportPoets
June 20, 2025 at 4:01 PM
karenpgonzalez.bsky.social
Some #transitions leave us trembling with fear. Will we, can we, should we be what we become? And more importantly, what we desire? This #poemsabout invites us to look below the surface where even flattened grass has roots. @alanparry83.bsky.social #KeepCreative #PoetsSupportPoets
June 20, 2025 at 3:55 PM
karenpgonzalez.bsky.social
Yes, slow and, as you write here, all to dangerous! #poemsabout #transition @alanparry83.bsky.social #KeepCreative #PoetsSupportPoets
June 20, 2025 at 3:50 PM
karenpgonzalez.bsky.social
Love this line: Hammered into shape by harsh words and harsher acts The clarity of this image foretells tremendous pressure to be molded. Wow. #poemsabout #transition
@alanparry83.bsky.social
#KeepCreative #PoetsSupportPoets
June 20, 2025 at 3:47 PM
karenpgonzalez.bsky.social
The intimacy of this self-exploration is poignant. A rich legacy, a daily discipline, a query into the possibility of choosing which pieces go where and when, a question tempting you to seek its answer. Great #poemsabout #transition @alanparry83.bsky.social #KeepCreative #PoetsSupportPoets
June 20, 2025 at 3:46 PM
karenpgonzalez.bsky.social
Well, Ulrica, you had me with this one. One moment always becomes the next and that alone can make us jittery. Where are we when we want to be where we aren't? Lovely. #poemsabout #transition @alanparry83.bsky.social
#KeepCreative #PoetsSupportPoets
June 20, 2025 at 3:40 PM
karenpgonzalez.bsky.social
Such a perfect metaphor! Fox muscles mostly taut, always in the moment, alert. Very much like the wiring of this #poemsabout format: simple, yet so clever and sly. @alanparry83.bsky.social #KeepCreative #PoetsSupportPoets
June 20, 2025 at 3:34 PM
karenpgonzalez.bsky.social
Love the dress down/dress up in this, including drainpipe jeans. Exactly the kind a Beautiful Boy costume contains. She's got a keen eye for color and detail! #poemsabout #transition @alanparry83.bsky.social #KeepCreative #PoetsSupportPoets
June 20, 2025 at 6:22 AM
karenpgonzalez.bsky.social
C-Ch-Change! The only constant we know, right? Breaking free to become more than we have been requires something of us that we might not otherwise be willing to give. This #poemsabout #transitions pushes those boundaries. #KeepCreative #PoetsSupportPoets #PoetsOfBlueSky @alanparry83.bsky.social
Grief changes me A shooting star, my heart explodes, wilds its way past Polaris to follow you. Weightless now beyond understanding your path edges the translucent rim of another galaxy. Gravity has little pull on your departure but sinks me into a sea of loss - I must grow fins and a tail to survive. Karen Pierce Gonzalez
June 20, 2025 at 6:15 AM
karenpgonzalez.bsky.social
Water is a precious resource so often misused. In the final stanza, it still flows, albeit sullied. In this #poemsabout #transition you draw attention to the burden it carries downstream. Nice work! @alanparry83.bsky.social #KeepCreative #PoetsSupportPoets
June 20, 2025 at 6:13 AM