On Monday, August 21, 2023 at 10:16:39 AM UTC-4, NancyGene wrote:
> On Monday, August 21, 2023 at 12:27:51 PM UTC, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > On Saturday, August 19, 2023 at 10:04:17 PM UTC-4, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > > On Saturday, August 19, 2023 at 12:31:34 AM UTC-4, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > > > On Friday, August 18, 2023 at 3:37:15 PM UTC-4, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > > > > DARK BEAUTY
> > > > >
> > > > > Dark Beauty walks in ragged widow's weeds,
> > > > > In whispered teardrops, shadows from the moon;
> > > > > In misbegotten dreams, back-alley deeds
> > > > > A glistening blade, the hurdy-gurdy tune
> > > > > Of sideshow freaks with tumors on display.
> > > > >
> > > > > The rotted-rubber scent of spent balloons
> > > > > The creeping darkness when the day is done,
> > > > > A pinprick curse, the casting of the runes
> > > > > A waiting hearse, a date carved on a stone
> > > > > A blackened church where no one goes to pray.
> > > > >
> > > > > She sings in rabbit shrieks and banshee screams
> > > > > She paints in blooddrops, sighs in spiderwebs,
> > > > > Finds poems hidden deep in troubled dreams
> > > > > Draws strength from groans when life is at its ebb,
> > > > > And dances with the rats behind night's walls.
> > > > >
> > > > > She glides on raven's wings beneath the stars
> > > > > Tiptoes through graveyards when the stars have fled,
> > > > > Runs bone-white fingers softly 'cross the scars
> > > > > That mark the wounds from which life's martyrs bled
> > > > > And laughs with nightmares rearing in their stalls.
> > > > >
> > > > > She's there when bolts of lightning split the sky
> > > > > And morning stormclouds shroud the world in black,
> > > > > She smiles at phantom witches rushing by
> > > > > Delights in every fearsome thundercrack
> > > > > That calls her presence like a trumpet blast.
> > > > >
> > > > > She's in the hush that greets a dying breath
> > > > > Each smoke trail from a snuffed out candleflame,
> > > > > She teases me with secrets pried from death
> > > > > -- From dreamless sleep that mortals dare not name --
> > > > > When time has stopped, and all the hours that passed
> > > > >
> > > > > Have vanished like a footprint from the sand.
> > > > > When tearful love words bid their last "Farewell"
> > > > > She thrills at every tremble of the hand
> > > > > That reaches out as one caught in a spell
> > > > > Then falls on satin bedsheets and is still.
> > > > >
> > > > > She stands beside my bed to watch age drain
> > > > > Each drop of color from my hair and skin,
> > > > > Then with a voice as soft as April rain
> > > > > She'll speak my name and bid me rise again
> > > > > To join her in the dark where dreams begin.
> > > > >
> > > > > -- Michael Pendragon
> > > > >
> > > > > *****
> > > > >
> > > >
> > >
> ```
>

On Wednesday, August 23, 2023 at 12:53:45 PM UTC, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> On Monday, August 21, 2023 at 10:16:39 AM UTC-4, NancyGene wrote:
> > On Monday, August 21, 2023 at 12:27:51 PM UTC, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > > On Saturday, August 19, 2023 at 10:04:17 PM UTC-4, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > > > On Saturday, August 19, 2023 at 12:31:34 AM UTC-4, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > > > > On Friday, August 18, 2023 at 3:37:15 PM UTC-4, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > > > > > DARK BEAUTY
> > > > > >
> > > > > > Dark Beauty walks in ragged widow's weeds,
> > > > > > In whispered teardrops, shadows from the moon;
> > > > > > In misbegotten dreams, back-alley deeds
> > > > > > A glistening blade, the hurdy-gurdy tune
> > > > > > Of sideshow freaks with tumors on display.
> > > > > >
> > > > > > The rotted-rubber scent of spent balloons
> > > > > > The creeping darkness when the day is done,
> > > > > > A pinprick curse, the casting of the runes
> > > > > > A waiting hearse, a date carved on a stone
> > > > > > A blackened church where no one goes to pray.
> > > > > >
> > > > > > She sings in rabbit shrieks and banshee screams
> > > > > > She paints in blooddrops, sighs in spiderwebs,
> > > > > > Finds poems hidden deep in troubled dreams
> > > > > > Draws strength from groans when life is at its ebb,
> > > > > > And dances with the rats behind night's walls.
> > > > > >
> > > > > > She glides on raven's wings beneath the stars
> > > > > > Tiptoes through graveyards when the stars have fled,
> > > > > > Runs bone-white fingers softly 'cross the scars
> > > > > > That mark the wounds from which life's martyrs bled
> > > > > > And laughs with nightmares rearing in their stalls.
> > > > > >
> > > > > > She's there when bolts of lightning split the sky
> > > > > > And morning stormclouds shroud the world in black,
> > > > > > She smiles at phantom witches rushing by
> > > > > > Delights in every fearsome thundercrack
> > > > > > That calls her presence like a trumpet blast.
> > > > > >
> > > > > > She's in the hush that greets a dying breath
> > > > > > Each smoke trail from a snuffed out candleflame,
> > > > > > She teases me with secrets pried from death
> > > > > > -- From dreamless sleep that mortals dare not name --
> > > > > > When time has stopped, and all the hours that passed
> > > > > >
> > > > > > Have vanished like a footprint from the sand.
> > > > > > When tearful love words bid their last "Farewell"
> > > > > > She thrills at every tremble of the hand
> > > > > > That reaches out as one caught in a spell
> > > > > > Then falls on satin bedsheets and is still.
> > > > > >
> > > > > > She stands beside my bed to watch age drain
> > > > > > Each drop of color from my hair and skin,
> > > > > > Then with a voice as soft as April rain
> > > > > > She'll speak my name and bid me rise again
> > > > > > To join her in the dark where dreams begin.
> > > > > >
> > > > > > -- Michael Pendragon
> > > > > >
> > > > > > *****
> > > > > >
> > > > >
> > > >
> > ```
> >
---

River’s End
by NancyGene

I’m a Navy Man and I know how to swim--
The river is daring me to jump in.

I wade and then swim and I’m carried down
The river to the falls and the dam by the town.

I’m slammed into rocks and dead trees slash my chest.
I’m gulping in water and can’t take a rest

From the devil current that boils in this river.
I’m bloodied and torn and starting to shiver.

I tried to cool off on this blasted hot day,
But I’m drowning instead and the waterfall spray

Is pushing me downward and over the falls,
And I hear my mother and her warning calls.

Oh, Mother, I’m dying please help me to live.
I’ve so much to offer if rescued and give

My word to be good to man and to beast,
Then I hit the bottom. Navy Man, now deceased.
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Date: Wed, 23 Aug 2023 12:09:32 -0700 (PDT)
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Subject: Re: "A YEAR OF SUNDAYS" - SUBMISSIONS - August 2023
From: NancyGene <nancygene.andjayme@gmail.com>
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Xref: rslight2 alt.arts.poetry.comments:229026

River’s End
by NancyGene

I’m a Navy Man and I know how to swim--
The river is daring me to jump in.

I wade and then swim and I’m carried down
The river to the falls and the dam by the town.

I’m slammed into rocks and dead trees slash my chest.
I’m gulping in water and can’t take a rest

From the devil current that boils in this river.
I’m bloodied and torn and starting to shiver.

I tried to cool off on this blasted hot day,
But I’m drowning instead and the waterfall spray

Is pushing me downward and over the falls,
And I hear my mother and her warning calls.

Oh, Mother, I’m dying please help me to live.
I’ve so much to offer if rescued and give

My word to be good to man and to beast,
Then I hit the bottom. Navy Man, now deceased.
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Subject: Re: "A YEAR OF SUNDAYS" - SUBMISSIONS - August 2023
From: NancyGene <nancygene.andjayme@gmail.com>
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Xref: rslight2 alt.arts.poetry.comments:229026

River’s End
by NancyGene

I’m a Navy Man and I know how to swim--
The river is daring me to jump in.

I wade and then swim and I’m carried down
The river to the falls and the dam by the town.

I’m slammed into rocks and dead trees slash my chest.
I’m gulping in water and can’t take a rest

From the devil current that boils in this river.
I’m bloodied and torn and starting to shiver.

I tried to cool off on this blasted hot day,
But I’m drowning instead and the waterfall spray

Is pushing me downward and over the falls,
And I hear my mother and her warning calls.

Oh, Mother, I’m dying please help me to live.
I’ve so much to offer if rescued and give

My word to be good to man and to beast,
Then I hit the bottom. Navy Man, now deceased.
. X-Received: by 2002:a05:620a:25a:b0:762:4189:117c with SMTP id q26-20020a05620a025a00b007624189117cmr152293qkn.1.1692817773729;
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Newsgroups: alt.arts.poetry.comments
Date: Wed, 23 Aug 2023 12:09:32 -0700 (PDT)
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Subject: Re: "A YEAR OF SUNDAYS" - SUBMISSIONS - August 2023
From: NancyGene <nancygene.andjayme@gmail.com>
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Xref: rslight2 alt.arts.poetry.comments:229026

Sissy Boy
by NancyGene

I was a sissy boy, who worshiped Hello Kitty,
who envied his sister’s dresses,
and toddled in his mother’s shoes,
and wondered if he was pretty.

Now I am a man, protected by the laws,
of equal treatment of
and accommodations for
my predilection cause.

No one asks me if, they always seem to know
that this is who I am,
and I still am what I was,
when I try to say hello.

On Thursday, August 24, 2023 at 1:15:01 PM UTC, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> On Wednesday, August 23, 2023 at 4:40:28 PM UTC-4, NancyGene wrote:
> > Sissy Boy
> > by NancyGene
> >
> > I was a sissy boy, who worshiped Hello Kitty,
> > who envied his sister’s dresses,
> > and toddled in his mother’s shoes,
> > and wondered if he was pretty.
> >
> > Now I am a man, protected by the laws,
> > of equal treatment of
> > and accommodations for
> > my predilection cause.
> >
> > No one asks me if, they always seem to know
> > that this is who I am,
> > and I still am what I was,
> > when I try to say hello.
> >
*****

“Look on My Works”
by NancyGene

I can do it.
Look at me! I can write!
I can paint!
I can sing!
I can do everything
easily,
naturally,
splendidly.

They’re so jealous
of my looks, of my gifts.
I am smart!
I am rich!
I have everything
without trying,
just by saying
that it’s so.

Do you doubt that?
Read my books. Aren’t they great?
Hear my poems.
Speak my name.
You won’t forget me—
I won’t let you.
I’ll live on,
written in air.

I’m a Loser
by NancyGene

I prefer “didn’t win” to “lost;”
It sounds less like I was tossed
out the back door of the election
and it really wasn’t a rejection

of me personally. I have to reason
that what the voter sees in
others may not be in my bag of tricks
or maybe it’s the fault of candid pics

of me and my really bad haircut,
or my platform made voters say, “What?”
I’m up to eighteen didn’t wins now.
and I think that I finally know how

to win, but that would be if I was
the only candidate and because
that’s not likely to happen soon,
I’ll just continue to fine-tune

my acceptance speech, which
I will update soon after I pitch
my policies for the well-earned position
of the Mayor of Misguided Ambition.

On Sunday, August 27, 2023 at 7:47:48 AM UTC-4, NancyGene wrote:
> I’m a Loser
> by NancyGene
>
> I prefer “didn’t win” to “lost;”
> It sounds less like I was tossed
> out the back door of the election
> and it really wasn’t a rejection
>
> of me personally. I have to reason
> that what the voter sees in
> others may not be in my bag of tricks
> or maybe it’s the fault of candid pics
>
> of me and my really bad haircut,
> or my platform made voters say, “What?”
> I’m up to eighteen didn’t wins now.
> and I think that I finally know how
>
> to win, but that would be if I was
> the only candidate and because
> that’s not likely to happen soon,
> I’ll just continue to fine-tune
>
> my acceptance speech, which
> I will update soon after I pitch
> my policies for the well-earned position
> of the Mayor of Misguided Ambition.
>

THE NIGHT CAFÉ

Half hidden in the aftermidnight haze
Of bourbon, Moscow mules, and whiskey sours,
Where minute hands push back against the hours
And backstreets twist into a funhouse maze,
Staccato footsteps in three-quarter time
Trace sidewalk gullies down familiar tracks;

Deep in the night, a flickering neon sign
Shines through the shadows like a guiding star,
Welcomes night's scarecrow children as they are
Like ragtag pilgrims to a martyr's shrine.
There, in the stench of day-old piss and grime,
Where pain rides like a monkey on your back

And dreams are served up straight or on the rocks,
They sit in shadowed splendor, all alone,
Sip bottled sleep while weighted hours drag on
And curse the crooked smile of the clock.

But just before the morning sun takes flight
They slowly fade away into the night
Like shattered dreams tucked in a miser's box.

KISS MY MIND

If you could kiss my mind with words of love
Share chocolate conversations, speak bouquets,
Or take my hand with whispers meant to move
My silent heart, then take my breath away
With songs as gentle as a Summer rain;
Touch me with tones warm as a hearthfire's glow,
Fill me with sighs, then sweep me up again
With secret words true love alone can know --
Impassioned pleas that hint of foreign shores;
Capture my soul with sonnets, murmur low
Then close my lips with those that I adore,
Gaze in my eyes and let my looks bestow
The rapture that my words fail to convey --
That burns anew with every passing day.

-- Michael Pendragon

*****

NAKED NIGHT

Come walk with me beneath the wide-eyed moon
Whose gaping jaw and cherry-blush exclaim
Her wicked wonderment at mortal love
That neither god nor man can hope to tame,
A flame that burns an hour, then all too soon
Is lost within the labyrinth of time.
Come walk beside me in a moonlit grove
When nightbirds fly and faeries dance in rings,
Where hoot owls sound their mournful churchbell chime
That floats above our heads on sable wings,
While fireflies form a golden treasure trove
Of sparkling lovelight 'round our mossy bed.
Who knows what rapture love's enchantment brings,
What ecstasies of passion lie ahead?
When hearts take flight in kisses that expose
Our naked souls as though the clothes we've shed
Were cloaks wherein the dark, unspoken things
We've felt but never said were sent to die.
Come lie with me and let our hearts disclose
Their hidden longings in the arms of night;
Just you and I, and only stars in sight
As we exchange the wordless vows love knows
And lose our souls within true love's delight.
-- Michael Pendragon

*****

August 2023
by NancyGene

August, you have well lived up to your name this year,
hurtling water, wind and fire.
Is there anything left in your arsenal
to make September even more dire?