On theme. . .could this site win a creativity contest Award?!

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The www.Ecks-Port.pro Report

New Debut 2022 / Free in 2023 !

Data  & children's Book/s lore in 2024 / Live 2025 !

Hallelujah-Alleluia !!

Already all ready !!!

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Heyyo Porters:

IN COLOR, AT SEVEN

For our ‘colorscape’ of not just any rainbow, and but here a PoetryBow, these days modern communities and all sorts garner rainbows for flags, logos, or other usages and if you’re still not sure what I mean it may be better just not to know because those who do can tend to get up in arms by gallivanting boisterously in biased and transfigurative ways; so, if you’re still questioning what the good Lord has to do with rainbow origins (God’s account sets out about how the bow / rainbow originates within Noah’s Flood at ‘Genesis’ found by our Holy Bibles all the way in to mentions in ‘The Revelation’), let’s see how it doesn’t stop there until our ‘PoetryBow’ today and has more to do with much more than we can present in all our fanciful borrowing and strident reclamation. A reward is that Mr. Eck will share a tasteful joke each colored page (one of which is an original by C. T. Eck himself! – at Orange Fix page, by the way for your information), plus a double whammy for one of the seven for you to find, so read them all if you will.

ALL ABOUT THE DOUBLE (2!) POEMS LANDED ON “YELLOW FIX”

The poems found this page are respectively from the ‘True-Accounts-From-My-Own-Life Poems’ Category (here, titled “RunRunRunRunRun”) and then from the ‘Story Form Poems’ Category (there, titled “Morning’s Shore”) in the newer Book. Both of these poems found this page deal with the subject of running, literally or actually exercising by running (notably outside versus inside at a gym or an indoor track) and, as one of this Author’s (mine, again Mr. Eck’s own) lifestyle pastimes, these really strike a chord in the Author’s own heart and mind (so, thanks, if you like to enjoy them, too!). 

Farewell,

 

Ecks-Port pro, c/o C. T. Eck

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Good Joke (Like Good Poems!) #3 / 7:

Fun Thought Funnies = Or Humor

Jokes keys whether you speak them spoke or not

If what would the 10th Planet be if the actual 9th is Pluto (also as in Disney Dog?) – be it Odie #10 from the Garfield universe, with Brain #11 Planet by the (Milky) Way of the Inspecter Gadget outer limit world – though he’s a he (Brain yellow Dog) unlike “Mother Brain” from the outer space tunneling leveling adventure original Metroid (there be about _ titles to of sparce favorite likes) and where would #12 be Old Yeller sad felt away enough (not that all Planets would yellow Dogs and but if we Earth are a post-flood Submarine)?

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1 / 2 "RunRunRunRunRun" [poem]

by poet Eck, C. T.

Winding up for the endurance speed contest against yoursoreself

Read this twice in strength

In Psalms of Israel

A night prayer along with as your song

In melody of my life

My day prayer is going my run

A now time modern city boy

The jungle of skyscrapers and pavement

Liking to stop for cross-traffic at stop light walk signals

Politely abruptly anticipatory

When I start again not lagging

But raring

Signs more than on the street keep me blazing

The trail through to the lakefront too

Sun-up over the eastern water line at Milwaukee port

This man writing was born there

Born to be born again to run, with these

Run with my back, leaning forward into each step

Run with my steps, winged shoes in my mindscape

Run with my navel, cheeks above wuffing

Breaths spanked intake lungs tank

Run with my hands, open fisticuffs racing not fighting

Run with my praise, fingers cupped together long to swim in air

Form of posture, rejoicing yet alone for the own pace

Soul of my soles, feat of my feet

Treading the sea of faces on land possessed by thunderclap legs

Wait for the second

Not time to slow I got my wind too

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2 / 2 "Morning's Shore" [poem]

by poet Eck, C. T.

Heavy drops . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . hold back

Lightning out of the distant East

Then in front of my forehead near by as if to push with my finger

Lightning like drawn pencil lines

Across the sky canopy iridescent

Like a staff glow of brightness sharper than a light bulb

Positioning my fists and wrists inward as if I am guiding a steering wheel

Though my arms are pivoting in time with the legs that carry me

Hearing a rhythm in my spirit as I press my back into the running

Exertion that belongs to me

Wind blowing through the trees swaying and moving

The heavy deep green leafy conglomerate is in peace

Because I like the smell and sense

Not of the outdoors but of a cigarette

I could smoke if it was healthy

But it is not, not even close

So instead, I run and stretch

Is there an angel walking my route?

As a guard does this angel show up to protect me?

Had a small white butterfly along for the trip once

He only lasted a part of the one lap out of the many

Another day a gorgeously marked black and yellow Swallowtail

Streamed by next to the front of my face almost to touch

Later at the end of my jogging he blew flapping by once more

Another day playful children came along behind

Laughing mostly with themselves about being added

Some following longer and then on bicycles asked me how much longer

I would be out ‘til I was done I said in a number of words

Another day two cheerleaders from heaven were out

Two small girl children proclaiming loudly all about me

One entered a pack of air through her recorder making an announced tweet

Dutifully making demands on how much time I had left to run for them

One cry “You made it” to the neighborhood as I turned around the bend

Then on a later lap boldly stated more lines in a bossy charge

With my main running partner the sun we stride

Who, though I have heard he is stationary, travels all day

Rejoicing as a strong man to run his race around the sky

And my race is shorter than his circuit we both know

And I compete only against myself I tell to show

Until I am old I shall be making these runnings part of my normal routine

Resting a day but appealing to this approach six in the week

Sidewalk tube in my vision of this today

Street-wide tunnel minding my mind and I aim traveling through

To awaken the morning some more

Finding on morning’s shore a day to seize

Fix those eyes when they seem estranged

Or tend to look a weird-on look at you

Just do not let it affect your eyes my man

Later to wait for the sweating to stop I lean back slowly

Because of the cold dampness left to the surface backing

On my balcony’s outside yard chair

Akin to all I have felt or seen and run about

This another night, though unseen with cloud-covering between

Stars above the ceiling still shine strong

Indeed if you are inside a building to sleep

Wait until tomorrow to run with one

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