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not sure how many words

Shostakovich morphs to McCoy
Tyner, symphonies turn to gentle
swing, the sun wins the morning
round, climbs the gray river mist,
settles over the barn

and I

eat my half of the crossiant no
ketchup on scrambled eggs yes
share orange juice with you
my good boy, my sweet love
needs his vitamins

and I

need him to remind me
that breaking fast over news,
Yankees and Angels and tired
smiles is holy this day
of swallowed prayer is salted
with promise. I'll sleep
on your pillow.
 
She was born a
Ballerina, and
Never learned to dance.
China Doll slippers
On her feet
And the inability
To speak.

Now she's learned to Yell
And Scream-
With a Megaphone,
like
A locket, hanging
On her chest all alone.

Big Daddy's gone
Downtown
Before the Sun,
Gone,
Thats the condition.

Heater vents and wipers
Warm his bones
And clear his eyes,
Waves at the rock hauler and
Zips up to his chin,
Better, best,
To keep that warmth within.
 
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:heart: "~Take your instinct by the reigns, better, best, ...~ Stipe"

Michael Stipe?? Oooh, I'd love to crawl into his head and snuggle up. Things might then make sense...

maybe.


*waves


Hi y'all!! :heart: :heart:
 
BooMerengue said:
:heart: "~Take your instinct by the reigns, better, best, ...~ Stipe"

Michael Stipe?? Oooh, I'd love to crawl into his head and snuggle up. Things might then make sense...

maybe.


*waves


Hi y'all!! :heart: :heart:
Click to expand...

BOO!!!

How's things in Dixie? Hope you are well and that your work is going ok. Yep, that's Michael awright-a song off Document. Long time fan. Why I remember when he played dives in Athens GA and long bushy hair. We share hairstyles now.

Ange will be home soon, and we have a pot of homemade soup ready to heat up.
We both didnt sleep enough last night, and I went to work about an hour before sunup. It was worth it though, lol. You know, talking the night away.

So glad to hear from you and as always, my best to you in your endeavors to help out down there.

;) :rose: :rose:

T.
 
cobbled together
sunfish schools
redbellies
bluegills
coming up
for the atmosphere
forgot
they breathe water
the strangest brew
we are all lookin at

while gill
spills
bricks tilt
flags wave
down boulevards of
sleepwalkers
strung under
barrells full of weather
overflow
in China nights
imported typhoons along
Mexico fencelines built
with forks and spoons-

barbed desires wired and
woven
yes cobbled together
with no opposition
north reaches
around south
gulls and finches
miles destined
as inches,
a creature flinches
camera shudders
to think.
 
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I wondered when I was gonna hear from you again. Must be something cosmic- I've got something I'm playing w/ to put here. But 'cept I think it'll be better on "I've got this idea...". We'll see.

I'm back in TN, Toots. Had some health problems- you know how that goes. Bodies that partied hard pay hard, I guess. But it's good, kinda. Being flat out gives me time (too much, really) to think of things to write. Unfortunately, right now I can only write w/ one hand.

Get that little woman in there to make another pot of soup. That other must be old by now.

Love you both Brazilions!! [SIZE=-5]you do understand why I say that don't you?[/SIZE]

Love,
Me <<--- NOT a Dixie Chick! :rose:
 
BooMerengue said:
I wondered when I was gonna hear from you again. Must be something cosmic- I've got something I'm playing w/ to put here. But 'cept I think it'll be better on "I've got this idea...". We'll see.

I'm back in TN, Toots. Had some health problems- you know how that goes. Bodies that partied hard pay hard, I guess. But it's good, kinda. Being flat out gives me time (too much, really) to think of things to write. Unfortunately, right now I can only write w/ one hand.

Get that little woman in there to make another pot of soup. That other must be old by now.

Love you both Brazilions!! [SIZE=-5]you do understand why I say that don't you?[/SIZE]

Love,
Me <<--- NOT a Dixie Chick! :rose:
Click to expand...

"that little woman"????

What am I? In a Louisa May Alcott novel? I always did rather identify with Jo, though...

Anyway he's cooking tonight. Turkey burgers and homefries, lol. Yeah it's a big Friday night for us. We might even watch a movie later. :D

Take care of yourself, ok sis?

Lurve from us both.

:kiss:
 
Angeline said:
"that little woman"????

What am I? In a Louisa May Alcott novel? I always did rather identify with Jo, though...

Anyway he's cooking tonight. Turkey burgers and homefries, lol. Yeah it's a big Friday night for us. We might even watch a movie later. :D

Take care of yourself, ok sis?

Lurve from us both.

:kiss:
Click to expand...

*swoons

I have been waiting half my life to get some lurve- now I can die happy!!

Lurve back to ya, honey!!
 
Sounds like a Sitar
Slowing the world down
A crack of daylight
Heads into town
Some form of restitution
Prayers of a clown
Some form of solution
Washing away the cough
In the water
And the face
Mirrored with a frown

Colors wash away
Make a mess of things
Makeup drips away
All vanities collide
On the sink
On the ride,

The circus Barker calls all
The children to see
Sounds like a megaphone
The wind in the ancient tree.
 
She Dreams

2 years,
Me, a half pence short and still
She saved me from myself,
Knows my imperfect inclinations-
Still she dries tears like the
Wind and says she loves me
And its all I can do-love her too.

Another November
To say its true
And clownface the blue
Languages lost
Under shellmounds
Histories vanished
In the newer Sun

I'd be long gone
Within a final song
Undone if not for you
To say its true
Clownface the blue

Making a mess
Washing a new face
Scrubbing a new face for you-

Better best yes-
Hopeful
Thankful
2 years
heading into
3
stay with me
Sweet flower
stairs me in the
Eyes,

I will strive for you
Clownface blue
Reaching only for the true
Cleansing
The mess
Better best yes.

I do.

Love you.

:heart: :heart:
 
eagleyez said:
2 years,
Me, a half pence short and still
She saved me from myself,
Knows my imperfect inclinations-
Still she dries tears like the
Wind and says she loves me
And its all I can do-love her too.

Another November
To say its true
And clownface the blue
Languages lost
Under shellmounds
Histories vanished
In the newer Sun

I'd be long gone
Within a final song
Undone if not for you
To say its true
Clownface the blue

Making a mess
Washing a new face
Scrubbing a new face for you-

Better best yes-
Hopeful
Thankful
2 years
heading into
3
stay with me
Sweet flower
stairs me in the
Eyes,

I will strive for you
Clownface blue
Reaching only for the true
Cleansing
The mess
Better best yes.

I do.

Love you.

:heart: :heart:
Click to expand...

2 years
3, 20(maybe 40)
if luck has anything
to do with living,

not eternity, not yet
until the blues have
faded from the ridge
of unknown futures
and every song is sung,
and think of all
the songs not even yet
begun.

How can the sun not rise?
Look at that picture, look
at my eyes. How can I not

love you?

:heart: :heart:
 
for special friends

If it's true
that in The Swing Between
the place the spirits hover
before descending once again
girding for the next go round
where stars are music notes
that spin through timelessness
then if its true
I want to choose
this love to be my beacon
and grow anew erasing
whats gone before
If its true
that there is a choice
then I choose you
because if there is
just one thing true

its you. Two.
I know its true.
 
BooMerengue said:
for special friends

If it's true
that in The Swing Between
the place the spirits hover
before descending once again
girding for the next go round
where stars are music notes
that spin through timelessness
then if its true
I want to choose
this love to be my beacon
and grow anew erasing
whats gone before
If its true
that there is a choice
then I choose you
because if there is
just one thing true

its you. Two.
I know its true.
Click to expand...

:heart: :heart:
 
it's nice to see this thread breathing again. thank you.

and what a beautiful way to resurrect it!

*hugs* for you both

:rose:
 
wildsweetone said:
it's nice to see this thread breathing again. thank you.

and what a beautiful way to resurrect it!

*hugs* for you both

:rose:
Click to expand...

thanks from the heart and the same to you.

words spoken and some not verbalized, come and go-

but the heart sings continuously if we listen carefully.

my best.

:rose: :rose:
 
The Auctioneer's Daughter

Gemstone
Walks into my penny arcade,
Silver eyes
Her wares on display
I breathe easier now,
Her mane brushes my brow-

Home as the sun fades
Behind the shadows Ive made
Pacing the floor
Inside the door
The sweetest music
Ever heard,
Not a word,
A lonesome melody
She tells me
"He would love you you know
For the tears that you cry-"

Im a weak man
Full of oxen breath
When she assures me
All life springs beyond death

The auctioneer's daughter
Timeless in her rememberance
The gold she has laid
In my penny arcade.
 
good night
good night-

no 4am tears tonight,

or :heart: talks incessant
like the November breeze
skin to skin
knees to knees.

for Ange, as she drifts to sleep
I walk the floor
Worriesome but not for us-
My weakness may yet become a plus.


night night sweet love.

:heart: :heart:
 
An hour here, an hour there,
the pennies ebb like tides,
but someone pays or no one
rides for free. Ask me if it matters
anymore, this pride of win or place
is all a show with all the depth
of void if you ask me, feel free,

I'm not annoyed. No more of that.
I'm only tired of the silence
and those whispers in the spaces
in between the beats of busy days,
remembering our laughing years,
the smiles we wore to mask the tears
for what we knew was real,
but never owned with voice.

So fine, I made my choice,
and still I hear you saying
you would watch me fall
before you'd lend a helping hand.

It's comfortable in your big house.
My jewels tarnish in your account,
and what did thirty years amount
to anyway? The other best friend
cleans the rooms while you
assume that all is right, your sins
a pinpoint next to mine.

I wonder if you ever feel
the winter
of your busy, empty palms.
 
Sugar Mountain
is a slippery slope, one
foot slides and years twine
reaper fingers around hope,
pull us to plateaus. We sigh
relief, hold steady till the center
of belief crumbles brittle
candy canes to shards,
to sharp and scarring tumbles
out of safety's mouth.

I've cried again
into your coffee,
teared us bitter
on unsteady grounds,
and still you smile big eyes
float kindness in the warmth
of palms. Take mine forever,
strong one, holding what you give
away. Tell me you're weak,
believing even on a nub of dying pine
the wind feels fine, the breezes
sway and go, the progress
slow as sleep. Everything
keeps green beneath
the darkening tree line.
 
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The heat
The bop-
Hits me as I walk
Into our door,
November moon
Rests easterly
As I move passively,

Shake off the chill
Alone in the darkening
Kitchen-

Prattle with knives and forks
Coffee cups like memories
Waiting in exile again,

Books and newspapers
Cast about like
Flower pots
Blown off our deck-

I saved one-
Tossed the other
Check the mail
Check the sky...
Venus alone in my eye.
 
I seriously think you two should write a partner poem. Do it the way it was first designed... no editing, no discussion. Just off the cuff instantaneously, and share what you come up with. I think it would be wonderful!

Good morning, Loverlies! :rose:
 
BooMerengue said:
I seriously think you two should write a partner poem. Do it the way it was first designed... no editing, no discussion. Just off the cuff instantaneously, and share what you come up with. I think it would be wonderful!

Good morning, Loverlies! :rose:
Click to expand...

Good afternoon, Boo!

hmmm, like the way we talk er somethin?

record the din-
agin and agin.

we might try it.

;) :rose:
 
You should. Just pick a topic, and then clam up. Don't discuss it at ALL!! Just write it- one line at a time.

And put it here so I can see!! ;)
 
BooMerengue said:
You should. Just pick a topic, and then clam up. Don't discuss it at ALL!! Just write it- one line at a time.

And put it here so I can see!! ;)
Click to expand...

We've written some A-Z poems together. They were mostly sorta out there; to wit:

after

because crescent doors
evolve forever
golden highways intersect jumpstreet
keeping lips mouthing neverending
orchestrations

platitudes quietly risking
seeing timberlines undulate
vexxing waves
xanadu yearns

zen

I know my boy--he'd say we're living a poem now. :D

Anyway, the body of our combined poems over the past few years is about 80% "partnered" poetry for each other all ready. :cool:

But never say never, right?

:heart:
 
Angeline said:
We've written some A-Z poems together. They were mostly sorta out there; to wit:

after

because crescent doors
evolve forever
golden highways intersect jumpstreet
keeping lips mouthing neverending
orchestrations

platitudes quietly risking
seeing timberlines undulate
vexxing waves
xanadu yearns

zen

I know my boy--he'd say we're living a poem now. :D

Anyway, the body of our combined poems over the past few years is about 80% "partnered" poetry for each other all ready. :cool:

But never say never, right?

:heart:
Click to expand...

Yes, I see, but thats not what I'm asking for. It's great you work so well together. Ideas, editing, changes, etc. But w/ a poem for the Grab A Partner Challenge it's the honor system. No editing- no discussion, no going back and saying "Well he/she said this so I should go change that line. Uh uhhh!

You (or he ) start. You MUST keep that line. Not change a dot. Send him one. No discussion. Raw. I am sure as well as you know each other it will be beautiful. Don't be such a weeny! Try it!
 
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