writing live

...just marking my spot, back later... 1:21 Begin


Spit and Polish
..
There's a knock on the door
a gentle old man, stands there with hat in hand,
smiling with grace, waiting in place
as the mistress examines his face.
'Yes?'
"My favorite word Mum, and if you'll be excusing me,
I've heard your kitchen's a mess,
for a bob or two I'll do what I can
to see that all is laid straight.
Silence, a blush, chin raised high,
then shoulders sag in defeat,
a reply comes exceedingly sweet.
'Yes, it's all quite dusty; I've a pot needs a good shine,
and if you can make it glow again,
I'll surely give you a bob.'
Standing aside she let him inside,
closing the door on the dusk.
The old man went to work right away,
cleaning cobwebs out of the cracks,
rubbed a high sheen on porcelain cups,
removed dust wherever 'twas found
all night long he worked at his task
and by daylight was paid for his job.
'Come back in the evening.' mistress said,
'I've a few more spots a'needing,
more of your good spit n polish.'
"To be sure Mum," he said placing hat back on head''
"my pleasure, thanks for the bob."
2:47
:cool:

shine on, you crazy diamond :rose:
 
:cool:

shine on, you crazy diamond :rose:
Moo, baby, moo.
..
Terrible, but the story's there and the scansion? not far off, innuendo's a little weak, wonder if smithpeter would mind if we edited live? I think I'll play.

"My favorite word Mum, and if you'll be excusing me,
I've heard that your kitchen's a mess,
for a bob or two I'll do what I can do
to see all dust therein is redressed.
..
idk?

[flash]Live Edit[/flash]

.
 
Moo, baby, moo.
..
Terrible, but the story's there and the scansion? not far off, innuendo's a little weak, wonder if smithpeter would mind if we edited live? I think I'll play.

"My favorite word Mum, and if you'll be excusing me,
I've heard that your kitchen's a mess,
for a bob or two I'll do what I can do
to see all dust therein is redressed.
..
idk?

[flash]Live Edit[/flash]

.
i can only offer a comma, after 'word'

did you think the innuendo weak? do you mean not plainly apparent, or a poor use of the metaphorical as support?

*not that i've been flashed before, mind...*
 
i can only offer a comma, after 'word'

did you think the innuendo weak? do you mean not plainly apparent, or a poor use of the metaphorical as support?

*not that i've been flashed before, mind...*
yes comma butters, those damn metaphors, there must be more in a kitchen will work. I rejected jugs as to obvious. liked porcelain cups though. gravy bowl? *snickers* sorry.
 
Cliff notes to a Life

Born in an ambulance
too eager to meet the blizzard of days

a childhood of horses, fields, woodland
dressing up, drawing, and church

first boyfriend to husband in less than three years
just how it was done
why it was done
who knows?

city job to housewife
nurturing child, garden, home
flat to house
broken lift to separate loo
snap-dragons and lupins
marigolds, sweet williams

in her heart, always
forget-me-nots
summer hay, magic-dappled stream
and bluebells

then the darkness came

long time passing

brief moments of illumination
new life

and wood-violets raised their heads
violas smiled
rain became a thing of joy
she remembered just how beautiful
the sky
 
yes comma butters, those damn metaphors, there must be more in a kitchen will work. I rejected jugs as to obvious. liked porcelain cups though. gravy bowl? *snickers* sorry.

porcelain cups works for me :)

better than pudding bowls :eek:

recalibrate her scales?

buff up her plumbing? ew, lol


just one thing - it can be quite insulting for a woman to hear she has a dirty kitchen

*smirks*
 
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Thanks for the praise, I knew you wouldn't take offence if I threw out a comment, I assumed you did it on purpose and don't need advice from me on how to write ;) I was hoping you would confirm some thoughts I have been having re: poetry and you have :)
we ALL of us need advice. we need to hear how our writes impact others' sensibilities in order to learn.

we don't need to agree with everyone - in fact, to attempt to do so is poetical suicide imo.

fab if there's only one consensus of opinion - but when you have three, four, five differing opinions and editing suggestions? that's when you have to put on your thinking cap and make decisions about just how valid those opinions are and, most importantly, how well they will work FOR THE POEM's voice. that's the time to a) trust your judgement (what's the worst that can happen?) b) consider the source of the suggestion/opinion and c) look at it from as detached a pov as you can manage.
 
Thank you for the welcome and the kind words. I really like this section of the board. :rose:
 
Rollercoaster

This ride ain't for the fainthearted
guaranteed, son, it's the best
high speed turns, steep highs n lows
rip the heart from your chest
your screams of dreams of catastrophe
may be your very last
so step right up, get your ticket
hope you like to go fast.
 
..
I love how your pupil is flat across the top
surrounded by a blue variegated see me.

lol, that's the weird effect the black cam made- i had it close up to my eye to take the shot and it made my pupil look that shape. reflecting its own blackness, i suppose. or something. i need to make a halloween av. lost most my pics on my old pc.
 
well now
there's a thing

seems my earliest memory
is of falling
into the blue

falling in love
with the sky
 
well now
there's a thing

seems my earliest memory
is of falling
into the blue

falling in love
with the sky
..
9:50
Oh baby I want to be your sky
am I blue enough for you
and if I cover you all day
will you fall into me tonight?

never thought that you'd look up
see my colors made for you
and as I falter in the dusk
will you reach out try to touch?
..
tears, a song track gone platinum, and many more verses
..
10:01
 
..
9:50
Oh baby I want to be your sky
am I blue enough for you
and if I cover you all day
will you fall into me tonight?

never thought that you'd look up
see my colors made for you
and as I falter in the dusk
will you reach out try to touch?
..
tears, a song track gone platinum, and many more verses
..
10:01

:heart:
 
10:32
I'm here again, smithpeter
typing badly and in need of your couch
perhaps you can shrink my head
hang it from that rearview mirror
that looks into the past while you race to infinity
in some cherry machine found in the afterlife
leaving us all to find our own dust
eddying around a corporal existence
that sometimes craves your transportation
racing into the great unknown with little care for the destination
just enjoying the ride
picking up no hitch hikers such as myself
thumb out, hoping for a lift
to the next filling station
(bells tinkle)
or perhaps life's not that bad after all
10:54
 
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with nods to harry's write and gunslingers everywhen, lobstrosities included

|20:50|

Go he said
there are more worlds than this
then fell
across the neverwhen

dusty boots on two-lane blacktop
pick-up hauls its dusty arse then slows
in a sunset of motes
waits
till cuban-heeled notes
stir the back-score of fear
bilious eye in a rain-fevered sky...
screech of tyres

and the hand aches
lost fingers protest their invisibility
and the back cracks
too long carrying a world

walks blindfold along the beam
can't see clouds that race overhead
but feels their pull
to look up
could be dangerous
lost in their current
he might lose his footing

put aside your compass
follow your heart
all beams lead to the rose

there are other worlds...


|21:05|
 
hope words aren't stones any more Harry, missed your words in here and in new poems
''
words will always be stones, 'ol Tod, bruised heels cut feet, weary shoulders from carrying their weight and always gathering them up again, where they've fallen from our grasp
 
|20:50|

Go he said
there are more worlds than this
then fell
across the neverwhen

dusty boots on two-lane blacktop
pick-up hauls its dusty arse then slows
in a sunset of motes
waits
till cuban-heeled notes
stir the back-score of fear
bilious eye in a rain-fevered sky...
screech of tyres

and the hand aches
lost fingers protest their invisibility
and the back cracks
too long carrying a world

walks blindfold along the beam
can't see clouds that race overhead
but feels their pull
to look up
could be dangerous
lost in their current
he might lose his footing

put aside your compass
follow your heart
all beams lead to the rose

there are other worlds...


|21:05|

5:22
A compass might help in this wasteland
cold star blasted night, huddled against the chill
waiting for the dawning to show
the path to my Ciaboa.
5:41:rose:
 
5:22
A compass might help in this wasteland
cold star blasted night, huddled against the chill
waiting for the dawning to show
the path to my Ciaboa.
5:41:rose:
|23:20|

wolves howl in the wasteland
but let us be snug
skin their bones and
riddle-me this
way to the way-station
for i have a key

dawn beaks rose and gold
whispering of youthful waters
in a neverstream of when

|23:23|





'r' :eek:
 
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|23:20|

wolves howl in the wasteland
but let us be snug
skin their bones and
riddle-me this
way to the way-station
for i have a key

dawn beaks rose and gold
whispering of youthful waters
in a neverstream of when

|23:23|
6:31
Three minutes?
poetry pours from her in rivers
sparkling among the rocks
where the neverstream cuts
deep into earths bone
flaying the skin from neverwhen
the bark from nevermore
revealing the lock of neverfear
calling for the key
6:42
 
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