Discussion:
The Sunday Sampler for 5/24/20 is open. The topic picked by Will Dockery is ‘Summit’
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drive-by
2020-05-24 04:01:28 UTC
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The Sunday Sampler for 5/24/20 is open. The topic picked by Will Dockery is ‘Summit’

The Sunday Sampler rules:

1. Opens after midnight EST on Saturday
2. Closes midnight Sunday EST
3. New poems only (old poems by members, never posted on AAPC, will be considered ‘new’)
4. Up to two poems per member
5. The new topic will be chosen by Wednesday (Edward started the first, then designated the
second, who designated the third and so on)
6. Poems must be on topic
7. Any style/length
8. All poems must be under the Sunday Sampler heading, no separate posts
9. Comments welcome or not--Michael has offered his comments without posting
a poem, which is more than welcome
10. The dreaded 'X' will be placed on poems not following the topic offered
11. One day, one troll-free Sampler thread, please
12. No name calling, personal attacks or flame posts
13. Constructive comments/criticisms only
14. No whining


Problems along the way? Comment with 'War Room' on the post in question.

The War Room 5/24/2020 will be posted at midnight under a separate thread.
drive-by
2020-05-24 04:16:36 UTC
Permalink
Post by drive-by
The Sunday Sampler for 5/24/20 is open. The topic picked by Will Dockery is ‘Summit’
1. Opens after midnight EST on Saturday
2. Closes midnight Sunday EST
3. New poems only (old poems by members, never posted on AAPC, will be considered ‘new’)
4. Up to two poems per member
5. The new topic will be chosen by Wednesday (Edward started the first, then designated the
second, who designated the third and so on)
6. Poems must be on topic
7. Any style/length
8. All poems must be under the Sunday Sampler heading, no separate posts
9. Comments welcome or not--Michael has offered his comments without posting
a poem, which is more than welcome
10. The dreaded 'X' will be placed on poems not following the topic offered
11. One day, one troll-free Sampler thread, please
12. No name calling, personal attacks or flame posts
13. Constructive comments/criticisms only
14. No whining
Problems along the way? Comment with 'War Room' on the post in question.
The War Room 5/24/2020 will be posted at midnight under a separate thread.
The Climb
by drive-by

I had just reached the top
when she asked me to go back down.
NancyGene
2020-05-24 11:37:46 UTC
Permalink
Summit Street
by NancyGene

The splendid Summit Street
was only 500 feet
in elevation but was a showplace
K2 for those living at its base.

Some climbers drove to renown,
others slept up, as many slid down
town while visitors looked at the rise
with surprised eyes that dramatized

the heights that people strove for--
many using others as a ladder
for that first rung up and a missed
step when a crevasse served a twist

on the way to Summit Street’s neat
row of houses that concealed complete
louses living in basement levels unknown
to ascenders looking up at the capstone.

Summit Street wasn’t an address where you
could stay forever and enjoy the high-flown view,
for others were in the long line to crest,
willing the landslide to sweep you down next.
NancyGene
2020-05-24 12:17:09 UTC
Permalink
Yalta
by NancyGene

The summit came together hastily,
my new guy, his old wife, and me.
She didn’t want to let go,
he relished being fought over,
but I was ashamed.

It hadn’t seemed likely she would follow him,
but she was clever and tracked her errant groom
through the streets to my house at midnight,
when the curtains were open and
so were her spouse and me.

She shone the flashlight in the window,
I thought, what the hell, the sun is up,
but he got up as she struck
at the window. We got dressed
under nervous circumstances.

She said to him, I want to see her.
I thought oh, no, she’s going to shoot me.
He motioned for me to come out.
I didn’t look my best, but better than she did,
with her tears and the formula smears on her blouse.

I wondered who had the kids
or if she just left them
as soon as she knew where he was
since he hadn’t bothered to do the call
which placed him out of town

for the night and maybe day,
even though it was a holiday
and no one would believe
that he was at a training foray
on Memorial Day weekend.

He denied while she cried and I tried
to make sense of these negotiations,
brought together by the common wish
for a peace of flesh,
but whose and how was the dispute.

She left, he left, I left him because
I won’t compete for any man.
He will sign the covenant, while still
planning to expand his territory and
invade another woman’s borders.
drive-by
2020-05-24 13:27:32 UTC
Permalink
Post by drive-by
Post by drive-by
The Sunday Sampler for 5/24/20 is open. The topic picked by Will Dockery is ‘Summit’
1. Opens after midnight EST on Saturday
2. Closes midnight Sunday EST
3. New poems only (old poems by members, never posted on AAPC, will be considered ‘new’)
4. Up to two poems per member
5. The new topic will be chosen by Wednesday (Edward started the first, then designated the
second, who designated the third and so on)
6. Poems must be on topic
7. Any style/length
8. All poems must be under the Sunday Sampler heading, no separate posts
9. Comments welcome or not--Michael has offered his comments without posting
a poem, which is more than welcome
10. The dreaded 'X' will be placed on poems not following the topic offered
11. One day, one troll-free Sampler thread, please
12. No name calling, personal attacks or flame posts
13. Constructive comments/criticisms only
14. No whining
Problems along the way? Comment with 'War Room' on the post in question.
The War Room 5/24/2020 will be posted at midnight under a separate thread.
The Climb
by drive-by
I had just reached the top
when she asked me to go back down.
Cyclone
by drive-by

That slow clanking climb,
up, up to where the waves broke below
as dots of people roasted in a summer skillet
until the slight pause at the iron and wood peak,
then screams as the Cyclone lost its battle
with gravity.

Take a ride:

x***@gmail.com
2020-05-24 13:55:25 UTC
Permalink
It’s Memorial Day weekend
I'm thinking I ought to do
what, hike some summit
in the mountain range?
I steeple my fingers.
Will Dockery
2020-05-24 22:10:19 UTC
Permalink
Reunion Summit

A Jalapeño pepper
in a Savannah Churches
it bit my tongue
so sweet and hot.

I had just been transferred
from a nearby circus.
I didn't miss
what I'd never gotten.

I was soon to be
headed to the Courthouse
for another summit.
Stone gargoyles stared
in the village green.

I watched
daybreak approach
slowly
like clockwork.
I stared into
the crack of dawn.

The stars were red
and the night was swampy.
I crossed through the cemetery
and heard her clocking heels
on those streets of stone.

The constellations
seemed so foreign
observed obscure text
written in the stars.

In the morning
sunlight
cut over an eastern hill.
At the little church
a block over from Broadway.

The steeple of the church
framed us well
among a small group of people
as there on the steps
we burnt the document.

She mentioned some gibberish
about how our forefathers
were free now
but still
scrounging for bread.

Something about her spirit
deep golden and blue
her radiance
she was blonde in the sun.

The next day
at Rockville Lumber and Supply
in the shadows of the warehouse
I was kicked back
locked down on the job.

The electric hiss
spewing hydraulic steam
then the quiet
as it needles down on point
then the rattling
of the hammer pole.

The shimmering
little tin valley
across the lot to the wood shop
packed over with asphalt
and white concrete.

Watching
through
the shimmering haze
of sunlight.
Always some commotion
and the arrival
of unexpected customers.

In the field of stone
I saw the grass
then I saw the lions
in a surreal daydream
I hallucinated a lion parade.

The heat and the haze
was glowing
the mimosa blooms
were wilting.
Old Country tune on McLeod's radio
weeping willows
and the sad story of Ms. Kibbles.

The holiday meeting
had gone well
I was back riding shotgun
making deliveries
in the lumber truck.

-Will Dockery (7-81)
Will Dockery
2020-05-25 00:33:13 UTC
Permalink
Reunion Summit

A Jalapeño pepper
in a Savannah Churches
it bit my tongue
so sweet and hot.

I had just been transferred
from a nearby circus.
I didn't miss
what I'd never gotten.

I was soon to be
headed to the Courthouse
for another summit.
Stone gargoyles stared
in the village green.

I watched
daybreak approach
slowly
like clockwork.
I stared into
the crack of dawn.

The stars were red
and the night was swampy.
I crossed through the cemetery
and heard her clicking heels
on those streets of stone.

The constellations
seemed so foreign
observed obscure text
written in the stars.

In the morning
sunlight
cut over an eastern hill.
At the little church
a block over from Broadway.

The steeple of the church
framed us well
among a small group of people
as there on the steps
we burnt the document.

She mentioned some gibberish
about how our forefathers
were free now
but still
scrounging for bread.

Something about her spirit
deep golden and blue
her radiance
she was blonde in the sun.

The next day
at Rockville Lumber and Supply
in the shadows of the warehouse
I was kicked back
locked down on the job.

The electric hiss
spewing hydraulic steam
then the quiet
as it needles down on point
then the rattling
of the hammer pole.

The shimmering
little tin valley
across the lot to the wood shop
packed over with asphalt
and white concrete.

Watching
through
the shimmering haze
of sunlight.
Always some commotion
and the arrival
of unexpected customers.

In the field of stone
I saw the grass
then I saw the lions
in a surreal daydream
I hallucinated a lion parade.

The heat and the haze
was glowing
the mimosa blooms
were wilting.
Old Country tune on McLeod's radio
weeping willows
and the sad story of Ms. Kibbles.

The holiday meeting
had gone well
I was back riding shotgun
making deliveries
in the lumber truck.

-Will Dockery / Summer 1981
drive-by
2020-05-25 03:57:34 UTC
Permalink
Post by Will Dockery
Reunion Summit
A Jalapeño pepper
in a Savannah Churches
it bit my tongue
so sweet and hot.
I had just been transferred
from a nearby circus.
I didn't miss
what I'd never gotten.
I was soon to be
headed to the Courthouse
for another summit.
Stone gargoyles stared
in the village green.
I watched
daybreak approach
slowly
like clockwork.
I stared into
the crack of dawn.
The stars were red
and the night was swampy.
I crossed through the cemetery
and heard her clicking heels
on those streets of stone.
The constellations
seemed so foreign
observed obscure text
written in the stars.
In the morning
sunlight
cut over an eastern hill.
At the little church
a block over from Broadway.
The steeple of the church
framed us well
among a small group of people
as there on the steps
we burnt the document.
She mentioned some gibberish
about how our forefathers
were free now
but still
scrounging for bread.
Something about her spirit
deep golden and blue
her radiance
she was blonde in the sun.
The next day
at Rockville Lumber and Supply
in the shadows of the warehouse
I was kicked back
locked down on the job.
The electric hiss
spewing hydraulic steam
then the quiet
as it needles down on point
then the rattling
of the hammer pole.
The shimmering
little tin valley
across the lot to the wood shop
packed over with asphalt
and white concrete.
Watching
through
the shimmering haze
of sunlight.
Always some commotion
and the arrival
of unexpected customers.
In the field of stone
I saw the grass
then I saw the lions
in a surreal daydream
I hallucinated a lion parade.
The heat and the haze
was glowing
the mimosa blooms
were wilting.
Old Country tune on McLeod's radio
weeping willows
and the sad story of Ms. Kibbles.
The holiday meeting
had gone well
I was back riding shotgun
making deliveries
in the lumber truck.
-Will Dockery / Summer 1981
Sunday Sampler, 5/25/20 id closed

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