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| the king you see
Posted: 11/21/2005 5:03:52 PM | Rory....
Woo Hoo
Ya done started the 100th page!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Cloven hooves, smelly sh*it
Thought I wouldn't like it....
No, not one bit
Day and weeks passed on by
Droppings of wisdom, our Goat let fly
Flatulence and barnyard smells
We flocked with the ringing of those bells
The weekly wisdom of the Lard
The musings of our saintly Bard
Enriched our nostrils and our souls
And have held us breathless, enthralled
Saskatoony sonnets
Prose sublime
I think that this Goat is.....
Fine Fine Fine
Thought I would paste the beginning of the legend Read on
Hey.
I thought I'd be nice and set a little corner for my poetic drivel instead of polluting the forum with a ton of threads. Anyone can come on by and tell me I'm full of it, or not. Here we go with poem #1:
==============
The Pious Poet
I've read a lot of poems
and heard a lot of songs.
Many were composed through pain and strife,
the grief hanging wrong.
I like words with power,
stanzas with rythmic sound.
Keeping the beat within a structure,
discipline is bound
Poems need to be yelled,
standing up on the desk.
Hollering above the silent din,
get it off your chest.
Pants around your ankles,
can of beer in your hand.
railing against the establishment,
angry at The Man.
Tie yourself to a chair
and let your mind roam free.
The words will stand large in your mind's eye,
so let them be seen.
=============
Stay tuned for more.
And we did
Thank you Goat and thank you Breathing.....sheesh...when do you get to breathe fresh stuff??????????????????????????
Hugzzzzzzzz
Pickles
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| the king you see
Posted: 11/21/2005 6:18:58 PM | Pickles, Pickles...O dearest Pickles. You are truly making me blush into my beer. Thank you so much for the congratulations, the artful poem of yours, the reposting of that first, little barn-opening set of stanzas I wrote what seems to be ages ago. I had no clue where this would all go, but I was and still am determined to see it through to the end. That end is nowhere in sight yet.
You're welcome, Pickles -- but we're breathing fresh stuff all the time, right? It's kinda fresh, ennit? Yeah, it is.
Thanks to Rory too for getting this place to the 100th page in style. I haven't met a Rory-poem I haven't liked. Not once.
And there was another fella I should say hi to as well...Misterez...welcome to the barn and thanks for the poem. It landed in a good place...right at the end of Page 99.
There was another fella yet that I failed to say hello to: Daeryn. Thanks for the thanks and sorry it took me so long to get to you. The poem was compact and eventful, like a fringe play. Welcome to the barn, eh?
Hokay...what do I have with me tonight? This year is Saskabush's 100th year of being in the Confederation of Canada. 100 years of Saskawheat. Imagine. Imagine all the canola and the lentils...think about it and read this:
================================
It Ain’t Much, But It’s Home
God, but this land is so flat
Flat in so many diff’rent ways
All the jibes are so tragically true
You can watch your dog run away for three days
Yet there’s something wonderfully plain
No clumsy mountains to block your view
Feel small in the middle of a wheatfield
Or get good and lost in your own shoes
Visit Old Saskatchewan and see the flat land
Take whatever you think the experience is worth
You can stare up into those clear, stark night heavens
Or discern the gentle curvature of the Earth
====================================
Happy friggen birthday, you forgotten province. I stay here because it has a particular charm, a great flavour, lots of room and..well, my job is here too. Now Breathing is here with me. All the more reason to stay a bit.
Happy 100th page to the Barn! Thanks to Admin for keeping it around so it could get there. Let's try for another hundred!!
Whups...my beer is getting warm. Better head 'er.
G'night!! | |
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| 100 Pages of Barn Yard Poetry
Posted: 11/21/2005 6:51:27 PM | Greetings to y’all - -
The barn is on page 100 …Whoot, whoot !!
Howdy to you, Sukari- - Again, your words bring the scene to life…
Pickles - - You have a way with words, my friend. I’m glad you’re kicking around this ole’ place
Greets, Longte - - Good to see ya mate, and your fluid words…
Ah, Rory - -“The Flock” I loved it!
Mari_Sam - -Lazy is what it is all about … Gotta rest ;-)
Misterez - - The barn is a great place to drop your words, welcome to ya…
Da Goat - - Your weekly Sermons, your words of wit and wisdom continue to inspire us all…
“It Ain’t Much, But It’s home” … Says it all…You are a blessing, me’ love
~~
A man of strength
Wisdom
Beyond his years
A man of character
His heart
Like no other
Threads of his life
Words
Woven with care
My lids lower
I bow in respect
To a wise old Goat
He found
A part of his life
In an old photo one night
He sits
Perched upon his rock
A man
Resting with the setting sun
~~ | |
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| 100 Pages of Barn Yard Poetry
Posted: 11/21/2005 7:48:49 PM | ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
As they sayin Jolly Old from where I originate
Bleedin' Fu*cking brilliant
Hugzzzzzz
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| broken.
Posted: 11/21/2005 9:03:54 PM | you can barely even breathe
raise your head to see
can't sleep to scared you'll leave
thirst only for what runs down your cheek
seems so hard to walk
to weak to chase a dream
a mind that sees you bleed
pray when you don't believe
mistakes you finally see
a change you now need
the blame is yours to keep
your words are finally sweet
the little things so big
second chance all you ask
drink you sorrow down
hate what you've become
understand where you've come from
convinced its not done
angry your not the one
failed to realize
see it now but not in time
a broken heart remains
on dreams I leave these stains. | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 11/22/2005 12:12:06 PM | Taking a break till Sunday, folks. And I add to the celebratory longevity of this thread, as well as to the creativity and unique vision of the Goat. Hail, hail ! (And I think you got a good catch there, too, Goat.)
===================================================================
Across the lawn
a clear moon
by a cube of porch light. | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 11/22/2005 3:58:57 PM | Thanks Rory. She is a good catch...smart, lovely, good cook, stands upright. Yep, I'll keep this Breathing gal a while...a long while. See you Sunday, pardner. Bring a poem or a haiku too...and some beer.
Howdy Pickles...she is brilliant, she is. You are too. Berloody Brill, ya know.
Breathing...we were just talking about you. Bless you and thank you. You are far too kind to this old backhaired goat. And you're one heckuva poet too...I always thought so.
Misterez...you came back. Good to see you again and love the poem. It hangs well in the barn. Thanks, eh?
As for me, something pithy and ghastly:
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Tylenol Won't Get Rid of This
Auntie Agony came up the walk to visit today
Her fingers were like ice, her hair crunched like hay
She picked at my vertebrae and ****y, itchy knees
She smelled strongly of a tray filled with cheese
Like a full deck of cards, she flipped through my nerves
Picking and licking at the last one, she did not swerve
She complained of her osteoporosis-ravaged ankles and hips
She's only Auntie Gross if she's turned upside down and used for chip-dip
=================================
(engage Fred Rogers voice) Hi kids...can you say "discharge"? Sure, I knew you could. Sure...it's good on toast and chips. Can you say "rippled"? Sure.. (disengage Fred Rogers voice)
Bleah. I'm going to have dinner (erp) now. Hugs to all...see you tomorrow! | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 11/22/2005 5:59:28 PM | | I walked outside...the sun shining bright....breeze barely there....birds singing.....children playing...running shouting...pushing...trying to be the king of the mountain...be the one on the top block... not so unlike the goats...in the field climbing to the highest point.. finding a way to get on top of the barn...standing on that rusty tin roof......butting each other off... | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 11/22/2005 9:41:39 PM | you can't feel these tears
hear the screams from inside
see the angel that you are
from within these eyes
hold a whisper to a candle
yet struggle for each breath
a soul void of a flame
existing without death
draft copy of a dream
a borrowed image that you see
trace a life you can believe
rest where I can bleed
an encore performance
last act of the scene
left to fester on the inside
the director of this pain
absence of your mercy
your pity left unseen
pick up all the pieces
that remain of me | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 11/23/2005 4:52:57 AM | Good Morning all....
CONGRATS....100 pages, they must like the smell of the barn around here, I know I do, and the company is allright to...lol
I am so glad to be a part of this old barn, even though I haven't been around much for posting, I am always lurking in my corner, Whoever is replacing the air freshner thanks a whole bunch, it smells kinda nice here...
Breathing and Goat, your both two wonderful people and I am glad that you have each other to share wonderful moments in life with...
Pickles,my girl pickles, the one who always makes you smile and laugh, thanks for being you hun.....
Rory, mari,kobold, the whole gang.....great talented poetic friends to have around.....
Have a wonderful day....
Miz | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 11/23/2005 5:14:11 AM | Its me again....lol
I just wrote this so since I haven't been sharing much thought I would post it here...enjoy...
What is she?
She is a believer
But no one believes in her
She is a teacher
But no one wants to learn
She is a lover
But no one has the need
She is a leader
But no one to follow her lead
She is strong
But no one to fight for
She is a talker
But no one to hear her words
She is a woman
But no one sees her face
She is somebody important
But has no right place
She is lost and all alone
At times it can be you or me
She is unwanted and forgotten
Just wanting to be free……
Miz
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| home
Posted: 11/23/2005 9:19:11 AM | This house is not the same
cold floor now curls my toes
your picture lost its frame
your smile without a home
each room holds a memory
no one has left to share
missing keys to a piano
can’t even play our song
hear the echoes down the hall
broken clock an old armchair
creaking swings stains on the floor
bright white where the painting hung
these tiny windows to a wall
our bedroom without love
no blanket to keep you warm
a good book you don’t hold
empty closet no knock on the door
wine glass on the floor
it’s all so symbolic
in our abandoned home | |
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| home
Posted: 11/23/2005 6:01:17 PM | Howdy all. Lovely night...lots of freezing drizzle and nippy winds here...ergh.
Sukari...good to see you again and you're right..the Goat, like spoiled cream, shall rise to the top of the poetry forum with one mighty post. I played King of the Mountain as well when I was a younger lad (maybe 25 or 26) and always won on the playground. Love your words, eh?
Misterez returns with a two-fisted posting delight! Excellent poems and good to see you again, pardner.
Hello to Miz...thank you so much and bless yer heart. You leave a trail of words behind you that echoes a rather unique mind. Love your poems as well...this ol' barn likes having you here. Yes it does. It told me so.
Just a quickie for me tonight. My beer's getting warm:
=========================
Flat and Quick
What rhymes with "Saskatchewan"?
Not much, people do say
Perhaps “scratch-n-win”?
Nobody wins on those things anyway
==========================
Crash Boom Erk. So youse guys tomorrow, eh? And now the barn riiiiiiises to the top once more. Giddyap!!
G'night! | |
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| home
Posted: 11/23/2005 7:20:39 PM | Ferk...I am back at work...
In the mainstream.
Commuting by the Go
And the TTC
Should be easy
Should be......
Taking the wrong subway line
Me
DUH
UNIVERSITY,UNIVERSITY,UNIVERSITY
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| home
Posted: 11/23/2005 7:26:12 PM | Hiya all barn dwellers!!!!!!!!
Hang in there Pickles, don't you see
It'll all soon, come with ease!!!!!
Sam
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| home
Posted: 11/24/2005 5:57:22 PM | Hello all. Hello Pickles-dear and Mari...good to see you both.
A post n run night...the toidy is a-calling. Like you all wanted to know that, eh?
Here it is:
=======================
Fart. Sniff. Cough.
An array of seismic-gastronomic sounds and feelings
A certain co-worker brings to the office
Most of which are
Farts
Sniffs
And Coughs
She ponders her words with an e-mail
Something stirring about some software problem
That only she sees
In between
Farts
Sniffs
And Coughs
Alas, the answer is never easy because she’s on the phone
With the Help Desk and they don’t want to hear her either
So they try to brush her off
And they try everything short of pulling the fire alarm
To get away from her
Farts
Sniffs
And Coughs
She sits in her own corner, a kingdom of her own
With her computer, her weary chair
Armed with an array of
Farts
Sniffs
And Coughs
===========================
And here I go. Hugs to all you swell barn dwelling fellers.
G'night! | |
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| home
Posted: 11/24/2005 6:27:38 PM | Evening all…
Pickles - - You are the gal with wit!
Mari-Sam - - Good to see you here ;-)
Sukari - - Your words are vivid, I feel and hear your thoughts…
Misterez - - Your words paint a picture. Tis good to see you have returned …
Rory- - hope the rest does you well….
Don’t let the Goat fool ya, he cooks better than I
Dear Miz - - Tis good to see you writing and posting here!! You always speak from the heart…
Sweet Backhaired Goat - - “Fart. Sniff. Cough”… You make me laugh….
Thank you, for your kind words…
~~
Waking to a sunrise
Time stands still
Feelings arise
Memories begin
Cherry blossoms
The taste of
Fresh falling snow
Daffodils in the wind
Simple words
Of moments past
Gentle thoughts
Sleep within
~~
G'night all- - I must get back to my beer, and the Goat
Sleep well | |
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| home
Posted: 11/24/2005 7:30:45 PM | Giant Balloons float in the sky
Threatening to fly...away
Bands play marching tunes
Batons twirl, toothpaste smiles
The Parades passes by with Pomp and Ceremony
Signalling the beginning of Christmas madness
And after the OOHHS and AAHHS
People head home in their cars
To Turkey and all the trimmings
Eat till sated, full, brimming
Cups overflow and rampant spending
Begins
People living on the edge...barely making it day to day
Children hungry in our midst, poverty a trap
Dreams of turkey, just that
Is our thinking skewed,do we really care?
One ballon would open doors
Give dignity to the poor
Thanksgiving...
For what?
Go figure.
Philosophical today
Happy Thanksgiving to all | |
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| home
Posted: 11/24/2005 7:58:43 PM | Good poem pickels! Gets you thinking. One should remeber there are those less fortunate.
Happy Thanksgiving all! Hope you all have a good and safe holiday season!
~Kobold~ | |
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| this picture
Posted: 11/24/2005 8:07:14 PM | I didn't ask to see the picture
that you've taken in your mind
always dreamed that I was in it
the way that your in mine
captured that perfect moment
a freeze frame for only me
play it back a thousand times
just to hear you breathe
can't remove you from the picture
omit you from the scene
tell myself to wake up
from this perfect dream
should have savoured every moment
before it excluded me
holding your camera I'm not in it
a freeze frame not meant for me
dropped the air that I was breathing
close my eyes to what I see
trying to take the picture
of a love I only dream
place setting is for four
now this photos down to three
should have asked to see your picture
see if it included me | |
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| this picture
Posted: 11/25/2005 6:07:34 PM | Evening all. A quick post n' run for me tonight.
Excellent writes from all -- Pickles, Breathing (especially) and Misterez. Good to see Kobold too...happy belated Turkey Day, pardner.
Good to see you all, but a post and run night it is. So I post:
====================
Put the Trees in a Tree Museum
Concreting, paving, demolishing
New things built to last
Of what use is eternity
Without observance of the past?
=======================
And ruuuuuuun awaaaaayyyyyy!
G'night! | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 11/26/2005 7:10:00 AM | Good to see you here, you crazy critters! I'm the first one in the barn today...Friday night must have been good to all you barn-dwellers, smart fellers and fart smellers.
Me? Yeah, it was. I got up early and had a pail of coffee, so I'm all sharpened up for the moment. In two hours I'll crash and be lying on the floor in a fetal position. Make hay while the sun shines....let's do it:
=============================
Seized by a Pound of Pork
Oh, my jussa looka ovuh here!!
A Saturday morning with coffee and no beer
Actually the beer's chilling in the fridge
Getting colder smidge by smidge
Soon the salted, smoked pork will arrive
And eggs over easy...good to be alive
The words tumble out like the morning pee
Each syllable makes me feel free
There's nothing like a poem with your eggs
Show me something better, I do beg
The bacon in the pan, sizzling and seething
Tended to perfection by the lovely Breathing
==============================
Well, I'm eating. See yer tomorrow-ish. | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 11/27/2005 10:16:32 AM | Hello all. A sermon? Yup.
The Grey Cup parade is on now and it's very cheesy and it put me in the mood to write a sermon about the upcoming game:
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Psalm 67 – The Book of Goat
Blessed be the Grey Cup
And Blessed it be on this holiest of days
Each year when the temperature drops
To unbearable levels
Canadians
(Like Thy Lard)
Watch the spectacle from homes or bars
Even if they don’t give
A Giant’s Rats Ass
About football the other 364 days of the year
(Like Thy Lard)
The Cursed Roughriders didn’t make it again
But that is expected
For they choked like Sally Struthers
At a corn-eating contest
Early in the playoffs
Thy Lard doesn’t know if He
Should cheer for
The Edmonton Eskimos
Or the Montreal Alouettes
But Thy Lard hath decided
In typical Canadian fashion
That He should cheer against the team
He liketh least
(Hey, it worketh for elections)
So, go Eskimos!!
Thy Lard will scratch and yawn
And try to pay attention
Where’s Thy Lard’s nachos?
Amen
============================
Urgh, where's my beer dude? Later, eh? | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 11/27/2005 12:53:51 PM | Always and forever will I hate
You left me and that was my fate
To never see you again
That bullet was your end
Your selfish ways have made us morn
The lives that your have torn.
You left us my love we are forever in the dark
You life has left its mark
You will never know the hate I feel
You have made the final seal
Never again to see you face.
Never again to grace our place
Good bye my love you will be missed
Never again to be kissed.
I hope one day I'll see you soon.
Till then all is in the gloom.
This is for my husband By K.W. You are greatly missed. | |
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| Re: GoatSmell's Own Poetry Thread
Posted: 11/27/2005 3:04:13 PM | are two poems in one day too many my goatness
sure I had to throw in my $2 even if but to be kidding
when 10 poems in a day is good for me
and 15 would be approaching a record -
4586
Bubble Gum Blues
27 November 2005
Some can be funny - others were true
Then there were really bad movies
and chewed gum on the seats
that was left behind and stuck like glue
While there were topics
at times not all there
Because what was the state
of the state fair
Even if this was a movie
made from some guys play
The subject was merry-go-rounds
and that was another in Carousel you'd say
Some can be funny
as comic as can be
But who left their bubble gum here
because I'm stuck to my seat
and cannot get free
© 2005 Christopher W Herbert (a New Zealand Poet)
a poet who cares | |
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| Page 100 of 222
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86, 87, 88, 89, 90, 91, 92, 93, 94, 95, 96, 97, 98, 99, 100, 101, 102, 103, 104, 105, 106, 107, 108, 109, 110, 111, 112, 113, 114, 115, 116, 117, 118, 119, 120, 121, 122, 123, 124, 125, 126 |
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