Doug Turet.com
A Journey in Words, Colors, Textures and Sounds

Poetry

Poetry By Douglas Turet

 

"Sunset Sautee" 

© October 30th, 2025

Oh, dew-kissed chanterelle...

You wrinkled thimble of sunset glow

Between sweet fern, leaves and moss,

"just so".

There in mid-step, I freeze, and...

 

"OH!!!"

 

(Well, I guess you'll still taste as good flat!)

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"Pounce!"

© October 14th, 2025

Sleekly spying, eyes barely poking through:

Two steps, then JOLT!

Jiggle-shake; freeze; spying...

Seven steps swiftly... shake!

Jiggle-shake; freeze...

 

Wait! There she is! Run, run, run, run, run to her. Then shake!

Shake in unison.. well, not, but almost!  

Freeze; spying each other, checking each other...

A move; a feign and move again; a tease?

Then chase up the tree, a pause for fluffy-backed juggle-shake, and gone.

 

But wait! What about those acorns?

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"Tango Legato"

© October 7th, 2025

Sometimes, I'll smell the taste of you

(Love you - Breathe ssssSudden!!

Smile-pout, then sigh...)

Softly kissing my way

Up your arches and calves...

Sniffing, suckling your inner thighs...

 

Gently, teasingly gliding

Over vellus, soft...

Only barely full-touching your skin,

Just my lips on your hair, 

Yummy slurp, then blow air, then

Down and up and then back again!

 

Then, of course, 

There'll be those other times, 

When our "inner critics" conflict,

From 'tween again and again

To "Please! Not THAT again?!", 

When we'll both glance askance, remiss...

 

Aren't you a strange little dance,

You sweet thing, "Romance":

Alternately hardening,

Then buoying folks aloft?

Sweet to sultry to stormy gaze, 

You so quick' vacillate —

"What? Are you my partner, now,

Or suddenly, 'The Boss'?!"

 

And so, we wander forth,

Betwixt nuzzle and scorch,

As inexorably as

Night flows into day...

Whether in passionate caress

Or in search of redress,

If we love "us", we may both be the way.

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"Main Street Communication"

© April 18th, 2025

I was out walking...

The lights had changed.

 

Sudden, wild fumbling between console

and seat for that fallen something!

 

A sheepish, smiling shrug offered.

An empathetic, knowing one returned.

 

Two nods. A complete conversation in no words and all knowing.

 

I turned right at the light as she sped off to her somewhere...

 

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"A New England Feb'ry"

© February 15th, 2017

The snow, it came dumping,

then dissipated, and "thein"

'twas swiftly followed

by the waterier "Snain",

which fell, then froze...

 

And don't you suppose

it'd loudly crunch,

without the warmth

required for slush?

Roads neither fit for man nor cow...

 

'Deed it did! But, now,

paths are all moist, but gait safe,

at 40 degrees, sans

Heaven's watery strafe.

Though more of it is coming...

 

Soon, there'll be some drumming,

(just the faintest of all)

upon the rooves of the high-born

and those in their stalls

as scant flurries and/or thundersnow are forecast...

 

And how long will it last?

If you're among the countless dozens

who believe in the fable of that obese gerbil's cousin

known as Phil of Punxataw'...

 

Then three or four weeks, at most, is all.

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"The Normalcy Line"

© Aprli 12th, 1983

I didn't ask to be here, this way,

But here I am,

With only my dreams to guide me through this maze;

(One strange-assed journey)!

I'd never ask for you to change,

So meet my eyes, 

And tell me why I should reach for your brass ring.

 

You know my face:

I'm the son or daughter who was not the easiest to raise.

I know my place:

Wherever I stand, it's where I've set my gazes!

 

God creates and so do I...

And those who don't are the ones who speak of "normalcy".

No one I've yet met's rationalized

Why beauty always grows from the plain,

Beyond the normalcy line.

 

Doesn't always make sense,

Yet still I reach out before me,

Throwing caution to the wind

For-whatever thrill it affords me.

Is it the taste of conquest?

Well, let my fear's scent be damned: 

Pick up the fucking paintbrush

And fill that canvas with my hand! Because...

 

God creates and so do I...

And those who don't are the ones who speak of "normalcy".

No one I've yet met's rationalized

Why beauty always grows from the plain,

Beyond the normalcy line.

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"A-Frame T-Shirt" (The Misogynist's Lament)" (After hearing our downstairs neighbors... again)

© August 5th, 1982

Yo, Maria -- Babe!

You're pissing-me off, again!

Always whining and complaining, and-a pitching a bitch...

I fuckin' hate your instigatin'

'Cause o' what you make me do,

When you get all outta line, an' you get me like this!

 

When I was younger's when I learned about what women really want.

I also learned just how to keep 'em in line...

Y'know, I learned it all by watchin' Daddy do it to Ma;

They never said much, but they taught me just fine!

 

A- frame T-shirt, "Don't you look at me, sir;

I'll fuck you up, you look at me wrong!"

No frame makes sense, if the only defense

Is packing up and running from home.

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