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HarryHill said:
Oh, that's it, perfect but Victoria sponge is such a mouthful, er, so to speak, as for the other eeeew :eek:

oh, I never asked and you never said, how did the cornbread go over with the boys :D
Click to expand...
you could just call it a jam sponge or sponge cake :)

oh, they ate it so they must have thought it was ok - cake's cake at their age :D i thought it tasted ok but the texture was a bit ... odd. grainy or something. but cake-ish :D



HarryHill said:
You told me we could do this, but gods truth butters, I cant decide if this is the hardest or easiest thing I've ever done
Click to expand...
:( i know. it's both :eek: knowing the end, having that goal and knowing it's real and achievable, that makes it bearable.

*holds your hand*
:heart:
 
Some days are
blue on blue
long shadows on banked snow
on ice in the mountain's pass
bitter teeth of the iron portcullis
sunk deep into bone made brittle by a
bite that sings of sunless northern wastes
and endless winds where no tree may stand in leaf
and all are stunted
gnarled
turned in upon their twisted heartwood
never knowing warmth

days
when even glorious purples of the august plum
ripe garnet of soft summer-swollen fruits
and subtle russet stir of elegant spices
fail to heat the flesh, the blood, the thinking
grey brain a motionless desert, frozen
numb as fingers senseless to the words, the breath
of others,
imprisoned in a welcomed white
that's always
always
blue
 
butters said:
Some days are
blue on blue
long shadows on banked snow
on ice in the mountain's pass
bitter teeth of the iron portcullis
sunk deep into bone made brittle by a
bite that sings of sunless northern wastes
and endless winds where no tree may stand in leaf
and all are stunted
gnarled
turned in upon their twisted heartwood
never knowing warmth

days
when even glorious purples of the august plum
ripe garnet of soft summer-swollen fruits
and subtle russet stir of elegant spices
fail to heat the flesh, the blood, the thinking
grey brain a motionless desert, frozen
numb as fingers senseless to the words, the breath
of others,
imprisoned in a welcomed white
that's always
always
blue
Click to expand...

Good morning Love, I'm awake, long given up on falling back to sleep after the fail catch latch on my lids slipped, slapped my brain like one of those old spring loaded pull down blinds, left me with gears turning, grinding thoughts as fine as powdered atoms, seems my problem's sub molecular and my cup of milk is empty, besides, there's another doughnut in the box and I think the poor thing's lonely; it keeps calling my name

So down Khaleesi, call your dragons, come home
it's cold in the north and the meat's frozen dry
fly south where life's juice flows sweet
tear out a throat or two
for the home team

Quarter to five, I'm cold, time to make coffee and rescue the donut
 
Awakening from a Sugar Coma

Where do we go now Joseph
when the bandage lids of bloody eyes,
torn away,
reveals the precipice of noon beyond;
all that's left is just one more step
away from the peace of untroubled sleep,
the song of oblivion.

Welcome the dawn of madness,
when all those thoughts fly,
pigeons in a feeding frenzy,
vying for the seeds of interest
held in a shaking hand;
they cover you, bear you to ground
with their weight.
 
Three AM, a curse, an aspirin, I was not ready for the day to begin,
however, the light of a new day shines on me, somewhere over the Atlantic...
just barely.

It was the dream that woke me, that and the insistent pressure of a late night Pepsi, ready to end it's visit with my metabolism and make a hasty exit... so, a fresh pot, warm hasty breakfast and remember

Long Beach, some 4th of July weekend, hauling ass and barbeque, ribs they were, thick slabs delivered, devoured, and debated over beer and dominoes, laughter and slapping bones

Cruise the streets as the sun falls, old Paint lopes through the concrete canyons, ass watches her reflection in the windows passed as twilight comes with the curves leading to the top of Signal Hill

I pull over at the top, kickstand down, dismount, looking over the city below and the dark ocean beyond, coax her to her knees then watch the fireworks blooming over the waterfront as her head moves constant as the oil pumps that surround us.
 
now there's a dream.... striking visuals, H, and really effective comparison between her head/nodding donkey. worth waking up early for to get that down onto e-paper.

pm'd you before i saw this, but glad i skimmed by here too. :rose:
 
It's snowing in yankee land
a few flakes fall here too
give me a dream of sun and sand
with me laying along side you
slathering on SPC thirty
to protect my lovers fair skin
covering every square inch again and again
and double that for her qwerty

Happy valentines :heart:

edit notes: change first me to us
 
Last edited:
HarryHill said:
It's snowing in yankee land
a few flakes fall here too
give us a dream of sun and sand
with me laying along side you
slathering on SPC thirty
to protect my lovers fair skin
covering every square inch again and again
and double that for her qwerty

Happy valentines :heart:
Click to expand...
oh gentle flakes
shivering on winter's breath
nestle in our hair
wet stars to warm smiles
as hands visit european climes
rome
golden coasts
bask in heat's promise
roll with the swell of star-salted waves
a story of bait and bite
gasp and laughter
as there
on molten horizons
the dolphin leaps
scattering diamonds



2 days early, mr valentine :kiss::heart::eek:
 
butters said:
oh gentle flakes
shivering on winter's breath
nestle in our hair
wet stars to warm smiles
as hands visit european climes
rome
golden coasts
bask in heat's promise
roll with the swell of star-salted waves
a story of bait and bite
gasp and laughter
as there
on molten horizons
the dolphin leaps
scattering diamonds



2 days early, mr valentine :kiss::heart::eek:
Click to expand...

better early than late love, and I absolute love this it makes me feel so *sigh*
and you know how you so love coincidence? I pmed before I read this
 
Ya know...I popped in here for the first time in, like, almost a week and the first thing that popped in my head? Man, good thing I've been keeping up on my diet and meds for my diabetes, 'cause it'd be wayyyyy too sweet otherwise. hehehe ;)

But, seriously, y'all have been doing some good work in here, again. I'm thinking of rereading the last week and letting it stoke my sleeping Muse(s).

Have a wonderful Valentine's tomorrow! :rose::heart:
 
Remec said:
Ya know...I popped in here for the first time in, like, almost a week and the first thing that popped in my head? Man, good thing I've been keeping up on my diet and meds for my diabetes, 'cause it'd be wayyyyy too sweet otherwise. hehehe ;)

But, seriously, y'all have been doing some good work in here, again. I'm thinking of rereading the last week and letting it stoke my sleeping Muse(s).

Have a wonderful Valentine's tomorrow! :rose::heart:
Click to expand...

2/14/15 4:00 ish
..
The clouds seem to have a weight to them
distended, bearing down, threatening
weather people sound almost joyous
reporting in rapid fire sentences
hoary meteorological details without a breath
faux flakes of snow fall on disturbing graphics
with the warning... 'stay inside!'
and please send us your videos :rolleyes:
 
Tengo Hambre

It looked to be a cold bitch of a day; the fire was down to coals by the time I convinced myself to get out of bed, brave sleepy feet down a flight of stairs and get it roaring once again. The house would take some time to warm up again, so, I went to the kitchen, microwaved a couple of frozen burritos, slipped them in my pockets and went back to bed toasty warm and slept 'til breakfast.
 
Angel wings, wrapped around a soul
imaginations a funny thing
they could be an old fairy aura
shed like snake skin in summer
let me look closer,
see what can not be seen
then try to describe it
to those that are blind

Fay song, sung in chorus
universal roar, baritone
come listen to what can't be heard
fly down the music to your home

A feeling as if held in amber
a caress that isn't there
ghostly touch in frozen air

:rolleyes:
 
transparencies
held up to the light,
moon or sun
will determine cool or bright warmth -
but held before the fire's glow,
revealed the ruddy heat of
blood beneath the snake's skin or
indeed
the feathers

what yet would be exposed
held up to the thunder sky,
the lighning bolt?
 
Muted matte pastoral
washed out, dead
ice blooms from branches
frozen flowered plum
beyond, the Hackberry
65 foot high reaches for the sky
in a white lightless day, stark, grim
and just for a moment the sun breaks through
sends a shaft of illumination
crowns it in a diadem of liquid fire
then leaves me
shivering
 
The bird feeder's covered in snow
red wings flutter on the ground below
scratching for all the good stuff
kicked out by those greedy bastards
fighting for a perch
 
The poasters will soon be in bloom,
blue will grace the winter worn rows,
green will spring again
in the thickest of the thickets
and after that brief show of color,
after the wild hares go meshuga,
drop as if dead after copulation,
(I may have some rabbit blood)
it's time to break out the chain saw
cut it all back again
:rolleyes:
 
each year that passes
is as a single breath for mother earth
the slow drawn intake
where whites take on the colours of new
the rush of oxygen to the brain
kickstarting wakefulness
the pause
where all things warm live
the slow release
the shutting down
the gentle dying of activity
before the falling back beneath the white
the stillness





hmmmn, dunno, pushed for time this needs sorting out but good morning harry :kiss: gotta run!
 
butters said:
each year that passes
is as a single breath for mother earth
the slow drawn intake
where whites take on the colours of new
the rush of oxygen to the brain
kickstarting wakefulness
the pause
where all things warm live
the slow release
the shutting down
the gentle dying of activity
before the falling back beneath the white
the stillness
..
hmmmn, dunno, pushed for time this needs sorting out but good morning harry :kiss: gotta run!
Click to expand...
:kiss: go ahead edit I wont look.. morning, coffee, bacon san, then I'm going to take my bfg out n shoot something :) :kiss:
 
How does one measure
compassion or patience?
by the years of practice,
the hours spent
shredding illusion and ego?

How does one measure love?
feelings of gratitude
the placing of others before the self
non-judgmental acceptance?
It is impossible to say.

I can tell you
how I measure sanity
this winter,
inch by fucking inch.
 
Tathagata said:
How does one measure
compassion or patience?
by the years of practice,
the hours spent
shredding illusion and ego?

How does one measure love?
feelings of gratitude
the placing of others before the self
non-judgmental acceptance?
It is impossible to say.

I can tell you
how I measure sanity
this winter,
inch by fucking inch.
Click to expand...

Stay warm Bongo.

:heart::heart::heart::heart:
 
Angeline said:
Stay warm Bongo.

:heart::heart::heart::heart:
Click to expand...
*waves*
..
So there we were at the supper table,
eating Sloppy Joe's and potato salad,
talking about birthday prezzies n you,
and this overwhelming wave :rolleyes: of anticipation washed over me,
I had to hide glistening eyes in a cup of milk
take long swallows stilling my racing heart,
before I could answer the question about furniture,
 
HarryHill said:
*waves*
..
So there we were at the supper table,
eating Sloppy Joe's and potato salad,
talking about birthday prezzies n you,
and this overwhelming wave :rolleyes: of anticipation washed over me,
I had to hide glistening eyes in a cup of milk
take long swallows stilling my racing heart,
before I could answer the question about furniture,
Click to expand...

:heart:

tsunamis of the heart
but gentle ones
enough to lap, to soothe, to
bring the new to already fertile shores
without the dark scouring
the bedrock scars -
those left behind along the way

:kiss:

p.s
don't swallow those eyes when you're drinkin' your milk
:p
 
It is no small thing
to answer the calling
when it comes.

Be it from cloth
or bottle
both demand subservience
to a higher power.

There will be sacrifices
( not all bloodless)
withdrawal from the normal life
to live beyond the mundane
touched by the grace
of the spirit
speaking in tongues
an intuitive grasp
of what lies
at the sidewalks end.

There are rituals to be performed
endless prostrations
as we approach the altar
or the Men's room
The ringing of sacramental bells
or the rattling of ice cubes
both to claim the attention
of the deity du jour.

Whiskey has better music

God has exotic incense
and the women dress bright and tight and colorful

Jesus never made me
tip,sip and smack my lips
put match to Lucky Strike
and feel the stillness
of the void.

But he never made me throw up in my shoes either.
 
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