Poetry Blog by Cynthia Buell Thomas
From my mid-teens
If something insulted my sensibilities
Anything – in any context – any medium -
My immediate reaction
With an indignant puff was:
HOLY HOT HANNIBALEM!
Which ejaculation -
Always so satisfying
Flying past my teeth
My tongue relishing alliteration -
Allowed my brain to catch up with my mouth
Levelling the field
For better appreciation
Saturday 16th March 2019 2:15 pm
The spoken word
According to precise plan
Is not to be trusted.
Oration is a power play
A skilled practice
Designed first to provoke
And then to persuade.
It can short circuit sense
Apart from language chosen
To make best point,
The power of performance
Delivers to a prescribed end.
Plays our senses
Sunday 10th March 2019 3:35 pm
One lovely day last summer
I was stroking along my street
Well content with the sun's deep warmth
The soaring height of our shading trees
And the thick growth of hedges
Flush to the walls beside the pavement
Often spilling into my footsteps.
As I eased pace to enter my complex
Suddenly, out of the dense bushes
Leapt a growling ANIMAL -
Arms extended with curved c...
Sunday 3rd March 2019 2:52 pm
'What a beautiful morning!'
From my open window upon the Sunday street
Growth is stirring everywhere -
Daffodils and crocuses in the tree roots.
Tight little buds on tender twigs.
Grass curling up for first cutting.
And my mind flies out into spring sunshine
Like a soaring bird.
The tree is inherent in the thumping chestnut.
The scarlet maple in the saili...
Monday 25th February 2019 11:45 am
He stomped into the small lounge
And dropped his school kit on the floor
Beside the tutoring table
With a thump.
He eyed the paper doily with its apple juice
And the silver muffin cup
Glinting with bright SKITTLES.
Without a word he sat down
Took a sip of juice and licked his lips.
He toyed with choosing the best colour
For first burst of pre-le...
Tuesday 29th January 2019 5:42 pm
Give me a simple smile
Upon our meeting,
That ageless, kind propriety
It takes such little steps
To be a friend
If you care about the signals
That you send.
I'm not asking for a taste
Of toast and tea,
Just a meeting of the eyes -
You see me.
I will not push myself
Into your sphere.
I shall treasure the connection
We have her...
Friday 25th January 2019 12:21 pm
There is a hill in Bermuda
Very high and steep
With a narrow road from top to bottom
That twists like a preying python.
'Ass Hill' they called it.
And I fully agreed:
You would be a total ass
To negotiate it if you didn't have to
At a mere creep
Praying for reliable brakes
And no traffic from the opposite direction.
I called it Ass Hill for years
Wednesday 9th January 2019 3:42 pm