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| A Barn By Any Other Name...
Posted: 3/14/2005 6:01:30 PM | I hurt my back Saturday at work, and now missed work today. Have had a lot of time where my mind is usually in full gear for my job. My sincere apologies for the onslaught of poems today. It helped keep my mind busy. But don't fret, will be back to work tomorrow-lol.
Little Rhyme
Pain in my back, laid up in my bed,
Am so immobile, I feel like I’m dead.
So much time, wish I were at work,
Where time goes quickly, its only perk.
But writing helps, it occupies the mind,
A little more creativity, I am able to find.
So here I sit, still in much pain,
I still have the use, the use of my brain.
So to work it goes, my thoughts run deep,
And I’ll keep it working, until it’s time to sleep.
But sleep’s no excuse, and there I hope I’ll dream,
Where the imagination will tear, and rip reality’s seam.
Then when I wake, after dreaming all night,
Maybe I’ll have something new, something new to write.
For this is what I love, to set in verse and rhyme,
And hope I’ll always will, until the end of my time.
~Kobold~ | |
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| A Barn By Any Other Name...
Posted: 3/14/2005 7:16:48 PM | Poets
Like droplets of morning dew, amassed on the petals of a flower,
Like rain formed into puddles, from a fresh spring shower.
We all come together, our thoughts and wisdom we share,
Letting each other know they’re not alone, and that we care.
Through advice and poems, I’ve seen beauty expressed in word,
From the totally exhilarating, to the completely absurd.
No matter how it’s set forth, it comes from the mind and heart,
And no matter what anybody tells you, they are all works of art.
So write out those feelings with passion, write out your inner most desire,
Write it freely with no disgrace, and to your ideas birth and sire.
For poets we are, and poems we’ll always write,
Poets we will always be, with words written with might.
~Kobold~ | |
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| A Barn By Any Other Name...
Posted: 3/14/2005 8:39:16 PM | Judged
I’ll burn in hell, so church goers say,
Burn for all time, no matter how much I pray.
But if a God there be, let him make no mistake,
At least I am real, not like them who are fake.
Because I do what I say, I do what is right,
And may do it wrong, but I do it with light.
Not behind closed doors, do I sit and hide,
Like those before the pulpit, who sit there and snide.
Pull the log out of your own eye, before you pull out my speck,
And judge me not ever, for it’s your life you should check.
I speak words that are true, in me you will find no lie,
No matter what you think of me, myself I won’t ever deny.
For who of us worse, it’s not mine to say,
I don’t go to church, but like others do pray.
Because I at least am spiritual, but religious I’ll never me,
It don’t take a church or a pew, for me to fall on bended knee.
So go ahead and judge me, for that is what you thirst,
But just remember what is written, for he who judges is judged first.
~Kobold~ | |
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longte
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Joined: 10/18/2004
Msg: 1129 | |
| A Barn By Any Other Name...
Posted: 3/14/2005 11:41:14 PM | Hi Everyone
Just a little quickie
I played a round of golf one night... the balls were orange ones
When you hit them with a light, they glowed just like small suns
Four of us were playing, in the winter way down south
If you tried to say a word,,,, steam came out your mouth
It was bloody freezing as we knocked those suns around
Drank two bottles of Fine bourbon as we played the final round
Some drunken fool then pointed... to the houses over there
Sheets were hanging on a line..out in the Freezing air
We didnt think or hesitate... thats not who we are
Those sheets were now our enemies... Time to go to war
Roger lined the first sun up.... Hit it with his Wood
Flying straight..Crisp and clear...like any good shot should
We watched in pure amazement as the sun just shot straight through
Maybe we felt Really cold.... the sheets were frozen too
When the sun hit frozen linen... it didnt muck around
Whack.... through the sheet like butter then lie upon the ground
Then it was a free for all ... little suns now filled the air
With every single contact you could hear the linen tear
Cost us near a hundred bucks to fix what we had done
But I wont forget the evening ....we shot the winter sun
A wonderful memory you brought back Goat
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| A Barn By Any Other Name...
Posted: 3/15/2005 1:28:18 AM | Kobold, I hope your back is back in action soon. I'm glad you're putting your time off to good use, that is by writing and sharing your poetry. Your poem recalls a lot of my very earliest poems, from '79- '81-- to me, they'll always be relevant. Just one for now:
THE EVENT
The auditorium quickly fills,
young people all for a special sting.
(Bees in a musty September beehive.)
Hum diminishes and the Revelation
begins with some appointed messenger.
Rehearsed condescension egregiously vernal;
now, with minds transfixed
he solemnly states the present condition,
careful chidings of man's folly:
"but God replied! ..." and locked
their eyes, as adrenaline sweeps,
gathers the obtuse, the willing sheep,
so quickening his pitch,
the words burst in rhetorical staccatos
contrasting absurdly his blank stare
as messenger and sheep look up--
for Grace, deliverance,
final confirmation from Him--
and note the metallic,
latticed ceiling beams immobile
in the suddenly harsh light.
In great spirits, (not to mention the imbibed spirits of the Guiness variety) back from three hours of awesome live Chicago blues covers from down the street. OK, Goat, I haven't forgotten ya. Here's a haiku from '96--
Forgetful old fart
lingers by
the unlatched pig sty. | |
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| A Barn By Any Other Name...
Posted: 3/15/2005 4:59:29 AM | hi Rory, longte, good writes..
Kobold, sorry to hear about your back, take care and get better, but your words are as wonderful as always..
wrote this last night, came to me on my way to bed, needless to say didn't get to bed right away..something different, but I like it..
Ghost Train
In the darkness of the sleepy town
No one knows the reason why
You may hear the echoing sounds
Of a train traveling by
Many fabrications have been told
And stories have been read
Of the ghost train that comes along
To collect the dead
They say this nightly train
Comes to take the souls
Of the lost and forgotten
Whether or not it’s their time to go
Some swear this to be true
Others believe its hearsay
No one has ever seen the train
Come and take the souls away
But as night falls in the sleepy town
And you limber off to sleep
Will you just go on to bed
Or pray your soul to keep?....
Miz | |
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| A Barn By Any Other Name...
Posted: 3/15/2005 5:27:35 PM | Well, hello there. I seem to have found myself some time today. I don't have a poem all ready quite yet, but I do have one sorta kinda planned out in my head. I don't know if it'll survive the translation to print...we'll see.
I haven't talked to you guys for a couple of days now and I feel out of touch. Let's turn the clock back a day or so and GIT R DONE!!!
Kobold...man, you have got talent and skill. I still find it amazing how you can weave polar opposites together the way you do. Then you seperate light and dark and hang them up to dry in front of us. Stunning imagry. Even with a hurt back, you can lay down some mean verse. You know, your poems are quite balanced. Light, dark, hurt, joy, love, death...they're all there, all part of life too. It takes quite a lot of skill to juggle like that. And the poets poem --- well, I have no words to express my gratitide for that one. I used to mock poets, now I just mock myself.
Miz....starting off a little dark. That's allowed...God knows I have a few dark days of my own, some of which I have put down in verse. I've read somewhere that it's during the throes of mild (or not) depression is when the soul gathers it's most strength. Roll in the murk, gather that strength and give it time. It's the people who are "up" all of the time are the ones I worry about. And a beautiful tribute to Charming, too. I know I'll miss her..she was such a ray of sunshine here; I can only imagine how radiant she is in person. I may get a sunburn from her if we ever met, I'll bet. I loved Ghost Train as well. It haunted, and rolled down the tracks out of the corner of my eye. Thanks.
Rory...yup, my former roommate both outweighed me and outstank me. I've never seen such a dazzling display of a non-functional human being in my life, before or since. That little fondling episode really happened, too. *shudder* It may take me years of therapy to get that scrubbed out of my memory. Your poems? Excellent! I know a Jim Marcoux or two myself and they always seem to try to get me to subscribe to their point of view. I'm a pretty tolerant guy, so I avoid that polarozed view of things. Besides, there's so much to see in that vast grey middle ground. The poem was lyric, captivating and instructive. "Renai" had me standing on my feet. I sang it aloud to the bookshelf -- it didn't respond, but the plant wavered a bit. d*mn, I love that one. I'm gonna clip it and save it, if you don't mind. Of course, I'll credit the author. Great writes, Rory.
Tera...such wit, such brevity, such a way with the words. I loved the twist at the end as well. That one also falls into the "wish I wrote that" category. I think you're inspiring my goofy side and this poem I have in mind will just fall out like a turd from a tall dog. I'm glad you're here in the barn with us.
Longte...heh heh. I did have a snot free day, but I spent the night flinging boogers into the plant pots the next day. I loved the golf poem as well. What man doesn't love a great game of destructive golf -- well, if you can get away with it.
Outoftheloop...don't worry about being articulate, I don't. Just be honest and lay the words down like cold cuts on a hot driveway. Splap! Plep! Write and post until your heart is wrung out like a washcloth. It's very therapeutic. C'mon in anytime....the barn door is always open.
Okay...I'd better get on this poem thing, huh?
Stay tuned, eh. | |
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| A Barn By Any Other Name...
Posted: 3/15/2005 5:35:47 PM | Good Evening all,
Hiya Goat, well charming will be missed for sure, but you still got me to bug..lol
yeah my mind is on so much this week, so the darkness has come out, I really dont know where the ghost train one came from...kinda threw me for a loop...lol
here is my addition, I am off the pc before my head explodes...
The Forgiving Place
High above the waterfalls
A long lost world lives
A place where you can’t hold on
Fear and pain you must forgive
A place to let your burdens go
Somewhere far from you
So that you may continue
To actively pursue
To find your dreams and hopes
Get back the life you had
Bring something into your life
To extinguish being sad
This may come to you
As a gift from above
Or maybe as a true and wanted
Everlasting love
When it finally comes to you
Uncertainty unknown
Letting go of your fears and pain
You will show you have grown
Older wiser and ready
To face the challenges that call
Always knowing that when needed
You can return to the waterfalls….
Miz | |
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| A Barn By Any Other Name...
Posted: 3/15/2005 6:57:30 PM | I'm glad you're still with us, Miz. You're needed here to offset my foolishness. I like your light moods and your dark ones. It's like laundry, except you wash them all together and never sort them out.
Well, here's a terrible poem. I guess I'm not quite feeling creative tonight.
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Oh, I Wish I Had A Simile
Man, I was pretty tired yesterday
Like a lone male rabbit in a cage with so many unfertilised eggs nestled in various humpable forms
Like James Brown after a concert performance and a good meal of roast beef and Mountain Dew
I came home and dragged my ass around the place
Like a two-cheeked Volkswagen with one good tire and the emergency brake on
Like Elvis Almighty was tied to it, resplendent in his sequined jumpsuit and sweatier than Ernest Borgnine after trying to run the Boston Marathon
I flopped on the couch, so hard and heavy
Like a beached whale, waiting for Greenpeace to roll me out to sea again or for a Norwegian whaler to put a harpoon in me
Like a bag of bowling balls after a hard day at the alley and having fingers put in their holes
I lay there comatose
Like a well-drugged senior citizen watching the birds outside the Starin’ Winder
Like a Court of Queen’s Bench Justice after hearing the 2834th traffic violation case that day
Worn out and bedraggled
Like the elastic on a 500-pound man’s underwear that is being held to his body by being tucked into the crack of his ass
Like a one legged dog, playing fetch allllll day
The work days were intense, yet unproductive
Like trying to whistle "Ombrai Mi Fu" with a mouthful of crackers and opening an umbrella up your ass
Like shaking pudding hard enough to hear your wrists crack
And grand and ghastly things were accomplished
Like a rendition of Van Gogh’s Starry Night done in a variety of fecal matter…all colours, textures and smells
Like farting “Moon River” in a dark, quiet washroom
Sure wish I had a simile for how I slept last night…
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Sure wish I had a better poem. Oh, well. Rory, Kobold, Longte, Tera and even Miz might be back tonight to air out the stink I made. I can count on them to keep the resale value of this place up.
Hugs to ye all. I'll see you maybe later for a haiku after I get my stuff ready for tomorrow. | |
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| A Barn By Any Other Name...
Posted: 3/15/2005 7:39:20 PM | Hey Goat, I love our poems. They're riddled with humor, and often reflect the lighter, sometime cynical side of things. I love it!
Time
It goes so slowly, especially when you don’t want it to,
And when having fun, it’s over before you’re through.
It drains us of our youth, wrinkles start to appear,
But it adds to our wisdom, more and more each year.
It’s a funny thing we try to measure, clocks and calendars, and such,
But really it is immeasurable, something way out of our touch.
Oh we try to put names to it, end, year, month, and now of course,
But it is all a perception, a twist and measure of the name at its source.
It’ll be here long after we’re gone, after we’re dead and in the ground,
It’ll be there in the future, when our fossilized remains are found.
It has no real beginning, and never will it ever end,
There’s no way to beat it, to whatever fantasy you may lend.
A measurement of the immeasurable, and its name is time,
And now I too will measure it, with the end of this rhyme.
~Kobold~ | |
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| A Barn By Any Other Name...
Posted: 3/15/2005 7:42:36 PM | The Beast Within
I feel the beast within me, as it begins to swell,
It has come forth to conquer, straight out of hell.
No mercy for any, it will ravage the land,
Mutilate and kill, any against him that stand.
So into the hunt it goes, and I have no control,
Killing without regard, raising the death toll.
No rhyme or reason, as to what is its prey,
It kills during the night, and even during the day.
An onslaught of murder, I don’t know how to stop,
It feeds on the blood of its victims, drains them of every drop.
Not until the sting of a bullet, and with it the pain
Does the terror finally end, for I am now slain.
The beast now descends, from hell whence it came,
And drags me down with it, my punishment the same.
~Kobold~ | |
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| A Barn By Any Other Name...
Posted: 3/15/2005 10:14:56 PM | Good evening, all.
Goat, good to see you back in form. Thanks for your kind words, and yes, please feel free to sing "Renai" at the top of your lungs at crowded thoroughfares and at church picnics. "....Simile"-- ironic how your hyperbolic weightiness/tiredness lifted me up. But, then, that's a frequent occurence with your verses.
Miz, glad your hiatus was a short-lived one. Good gawd !, you're more prolific than I during a fallow period than when I'm actually writing. More, please. And both your latest entries are excellent. I especially like "Ghost Train"--very evocative and haunting. I like those qualities in a poem. It touched a deep nerve in me, one that comes up more and more, perhaps because I'm accumulating more of a past with each breath. It's more than just nostalgia: it's that feeling you had at various times in your life, and what were the conditions surrounding it. I know, for myself, the most joyous times were when I had absolutely no expectations, no desires, even. Happiness really is a grace, not an attainment. (OK , enuffu that stuff-- I hear Goat farting me back to Earth.)
Kobold, thanks for the last 2. "Time" recalls many poems of mine with that theme. Here's one:
Miz, my last comments were directed at your "The Forgiving Place". BOTH poems are excellent.
THE PAGES OF MY CALENDAR
The pages of my calendar
are stapled, glued, and taped
as if to freeze time forever--
a whitewash of nights and days.
The past the number four
or eight or twenty-five;
pain and joy a bore,
now doubting those times were alive.
And next month's numbers the same:
one to thirty-one.
Sleeps, funerals, games
as the clock is on the run.
Our lives flying chimeras,
reflection a confused pause,
eyes constant clicking cameras
revealing slights and flaws. | |
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| A Barn By Any Other Name...
Posted: 3/16/2005 1:35:02 AM | The Ten Commandments
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Thou shalt mooch off someone moochier than thou
Thou shalt not sniff your armpits, fingers, or other parishioners hair, during church
Thou shalt not invite transvestites into thine hut and then complain of being duped
Thou shalt not tease the drive thru intercom unless thoust truly means it
Thou shalt not put name and numbers of ex's on bathroom walls
Thou shall kick puppies when they are yappy
Thou shall feed sugar to children that do not belong to thou
Thou shall idolize Simon Cowell for being bitchy and thou shall emulate him
Thou shall become addicted to POF and shall procliam "It was good" when banned
Thou shall ride the porcelain throne with pleasure daily and write about it in prose | |
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| A Barn By Any Other Name...
Posted: 3/16/2005 1:58:39 AM | Thou shalt yell the Lord's name in vain when walking into a lamppost whilst drunk.
Thou shalt covet thy neighbour's wife and fructify the Earth with b-astard offspring if said wife's husband is your ass-hating boss.
Thou shalt steal with gleeful impunity every Celine Dion CD and take it to the next communal bonfire.
Thou shalt kill regularly and with great vigor all lawyers. (wait, Shakespeare said that first)
Thou shalt honor the Mamas and the Papas (Dog bless Mama Cass Elliott).
Thou shalt remember the other five commandments and come up with a complete list because I'm going to sleep. | |
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| A Barn By Any Other Name...
Posted: 3/16/2005 1:59:27 AM | Thou shalt be a dyslexic atheist...there is no dog
Thou shalt laugh at the misfortune of others only when they can see you do it
Thou shalt envy thy pastor's robes for their comfort factor and enter the seminary to get one
Thou shalt do as little work as possible in order to post on POF
Thou shalt exact revenge on thine kitten with the vet appt. for neutering | |
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| A Barn By Any Other Name...
Posted: 3/16/2005 4:45:23 AM | Good Morning All...
Hiya Goat..your poems always add humour to this place, that is why I keep coming back, and I am glad I always have a place here...
Rory, I am still on hiatus...lol...but for some reason this place keeps calling me,and I can't stop writing and posting, here I thought I would be all quiet, thinking and just observing, but I can't seem to do that, I am being CALLED....lol..I thank you for your comments, what makes my writing worth it, is when I hear that one of my poems has touched someones life in some way, it might not be always good, but my works have reached you, and to me that is the greatest reward for writing..I like the forgiving place,I have a place like that in my mind, and I suppose that is where the poem came from...we all need somewhere to escape the day to day pressures of life, and I suppose that is why I come to the barn...
Kobold, as always your words inspire me to become stronger and better with my words, I can just see you pen in hand and the words flowing out so easily, you have wonderful talent, and your poetic pen brings out touching words whether it is in your dark poems or the light...keep up the work and keep sharing please.....
well tera as always along with Goat your our humour lady in the barn, you add smiles and laughter...I feel we have such a good combination of talent in here , that is why I keep coming back, everything I need is here....
Take care...poem to follow later...
bye..xoxoxo
Miz | |
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| A Barn By Any Other Name...
Posted: 3/16/2005 6:33:35 AM | well here it is, my addition to the barn...
I think I am hanging around you men to much...lol...I just wrote this and not sure where this and the Ghost train came from...not my normal writes thats for sure...but oh well, we all need to experiment and be creative....we need to expand our norm and test new boundaries....
Enjoy..will chat later..
The Fog
Darkness falls signaling the night
The fog begins to get deep
Howling songs emerge from within
As people prepare for sleep
Embarking off to sleep
Not knowing the songs they hear
Will be the lure and demise
Of someone full of fear
Strong echoing songs heard
The fog calls your name
If you’re on the street past dark
Your now part of the game
Walking faster to beat the fog
Swirling at your feet
Weighing you down, holding on tight
Until face to face you meet
Your deep dark hidden fears
Come to the surface tonight
As the fog swirls at your feet
Staring into the eyes of fright
Confined to one place
By the beckoning eyes
Screaming crying begging for release
Knowing that tonight you die
Being consumed whole
No longer able to fight
The fog descends leaving no trace
Of the loss of fear tonight
The fog begins another journey
Seeking someone full of fright
Will you pass the test it gives?
Or become a causality of the night?
Miz
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| A Barn By Any Other Name...
Posted: 3/16/2005 5:10:28 PM | Treading on my territory Miz-lol. Excellent poem. A little spook in ya.
Never, Ever
In the midst of it all, I remember your face,
I remember the date, the time and place.
You said you loved me, and forever would be mine,
And into my arms only, would you ever recline.
You said I was the one, you’d always been looking for,
That I was all you needed, and would never need more.
But that was then, and now you’ve went away,
Our love now abandoned, and alone I lay.
Never and ever, were the words that you used,
You must not of meant it, or were slightly confused.
Those are words of permanency, not to be used in slight,
You shouldn’t have used them, what gave you the right?
I’m well aware, that love comes and goes,
But love is more than a feeling, I must disclose.
It’s a commitment to stay, when things get rough,
To ride out the storms, in short, to hang tough.
That’s not my point, and that train of thought I’ll now sever,
We just shouldn’t use these words, the words ever and never.
~Kobold~ | |
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| A Barn By Any Other Name...
Posted: 3/16/2005 6:23:11 PM | Limerick for St. Patricks day
there once was a lady forlorn
her favorite food was popcorn
each night it was popped
the corn never stopped
and now she will never more mourn | |
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| A Barn By Any Other Name...
Posted: 3/16/2005 6:44:23 PM | Learning
Another day has passed, sometimes they run together,
They all seem the same, except the given weather.
I lose track of the days, I have no use to care,
It’s just another day, with just more words to share.
I spend a lot of time thinking, I like to use my mind,
And like to learn whatever I can, when time I’m able to find.
Most of what I know is technical, but I’m passionate about the arts,
I delve a little in quite a few of them, though I lack some of the smarts.
I try to stretch my mind, to its full potential I try,
And talk to those smarter than me, and for information I pry.
For intelligence to me, is much more important than brawn,
It helps me quite a bit, especially in the stories that I spawn.
And if for some reason, my mind ever goes away,
I’d rather choose death, than to live another day.
For who we are is in the mind, and that is where it lies,
And if that were to ever be gone, this is when a person really dies.
But for now my mind is just fine, and it’s working at full speed,
And I’ll continue my learning, because that’s what I need.
~Kobold~ | |
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| A Barn By Any Other Name...
Posted: 3/16/2005 7:20:33 PM | Evening all. Another day done, thank God. I need some inspiration, something to distract my poor, tired brain from the drudgery of paperwork. This is the place to do it, ah reckon.
Kobold...again, I am amazed at your talents. Deep and dark and forboding. Reading your poems reminds me of digging a basement in the permafrost of a distant northern land. It was exhausting to pummel through the frozen peat moss and chisel away at the equally frozen clay. There was a satisfying rythm to it all and when it was done, I was ecstatic. You have great depth in your words. I stand still and lick the surface while you're mining your way to the core of the Earth. And you're learning all the way, just like me. That last poem is a clipper and a keeper for me. Hope you don't mind.
Rory...the passage of time has always fascinated me. You and Kobold did fine explorations of the subject. Describing time is slippery like a greased hog floundering in a pool of canola oil and trying to define it is something beyond our senses. I read A Brief History of Time, but it didn't really satisfy me. Your's and Kobold's poems did -- but only a bit. I think I might have to spend a few poems on the subject myself and see if I can derive any satisfaction. My own tired ramblings pick me up as well, so I guess they have the intended effect when I post them. Thanks, eh.
Tera...thou didst proclaim well. Oh, thou didst. Except the part about Simon Cowell -- he's only 1/20th the sarcastic **** that woman on The Weakest Link was. What was her name, anyway? He's a pale imitation with a fake n' bake tan. Who ever heard of a Briton with a suntan? Really, now. But I love your venom, dear. It's the sweetest nectar around.
Miz...getting darker and more smoldering each day. You do it well, but each poem you post belies that innate passion you have. Yup, your passion is showing. And every time I read your's or anyone's poem here -- I need to really get passionate again. I'm just hovering in the ha-ha zone lately and I'm getting a little restless. Can passion and humour co-exist? Can they rub against each other and not tear each other to shreds? I will try to find out in the near future. I do love your presence here, Miz. It's an elegant, silken thing this barn needs.
And speaking of which...Sukari's back! Hey there. I loved that limerick and it's a timely thing as well, since tomorrow is St. Paddy's day. I won't be drinking green beer -- defintely not on a "school night" -- and I won't be talking in an Irish accent either. I may sing Danny Boy at work, but that's the extent of it. Good to see you here again....missed ya.
Well, poetry...let's see what I have in store. I still feel kinda weird and wacky. Be ready. | |
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| A Barn By Any Other Name...
Posted: 3/16/2005 7:25:26 PM | This is pretty terrible. It's based on my experiences in a hotel washroom, not so long ago. I have no idea who was in the stall at the time, but I work in the same building as him.
Kudos to his skill and perserverence and I hope he didn't blow out an O-ring:
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Multi-Tasking and Toiletries, Oh My
I heard a man in the toilet stall
It was sad to hear his colonic calls
As he pushed and strained and tried to hide
The demon he was holding deep inside
He tried to cover it up with coughs and burps
Yet he couldn't mask the dietary purge
As it tried to escape his body in a squelching rush
He hung onto the sides and restrained the push
God knows why he would resist the splash
Every man in the john knew it couldn't last
If we were to kick open the door of the can
We would've seen him, his face like a bag of jam
Buckled and humbled beneath the power
Of a fierce intestinal flower
But he tried to cover it up and began to whistle
It was like hearing the whine of a missle
He tried to suppress the inevitable grunts
With other useless auditory stunts
If he were in there any longer he would've started to rhyme
But we all know a man can't whistle and fart at the same time
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PeeeeYEW!! Poke it with a fork and cover it with straw and bury it deeeeeep into the ground. It's DONE.
G'night my fellow barn-dwellers. Watch your step and last one out gets the lights.
Later, eh. | |
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| A Barn By Any Other Name...
Posted: 3/17/2005 5:41:38 AM | Good Morning everyone...
hugs to you Goat for always making me smile....your words are just to funny, I can see you writing them down , probably laughing your butt off or shaking your head trying to figure out where those words came from....don't ever change hun, your wonderful the way you are. That is your talent,your humour adds light to the darkness in other's lives....
I have no idea where those last two poems came from, maybe they were telling me something that I just can't see....just like the one I am about to post, I just wrote it, I have written similar ones, I guess I am being told to find my resting place, the one where I can just leave all that is worrying me behind....
Kobold, I do think your starting to rub off on me...lol, I think your dark side has creeped over to my passionate side of the barn, as long as I don't start talking about blood and guts I think I can handle this little bit of the dark... we all need new twists in our life, and I guess mine is coming in the way of poetry...
Oh it is to early to be commenting and posting lots of words, so will read and write later, just going to say bye bye for now and post this poem...
Take care all...
The Stroll...
Strolling along the grassy slopes
No destination in mind
Taking in the wondrous sights
Hoping peace I may find
High above the winding trail
A song bird sings so gay
Guiding me through the underbrush
Helping me find the way
The suns rays of gold’s and reds
Bring warmth upon my skin
Warming me up helping me feel
The beginning peace within
With each step I take
I feel my breath so deep
My heart is racing so fast
Feeling this alive I want to keep
A soft sigh escapes my mouth
As I reach the final stop
Perching on the edge of peace
I finally reach the top
Never-ending slopes of majestic greens
Skies so blue and vibrant from the sun
Feeling inside the beginning of release
Knowing that this place is the one
For hours I sit and gaze upon the valley
Releasing the feelings I have tried to hide
Knowing that I am finally free
Of the pain that laid inside
My resting place upon the hill
Brought peace to my life once more
I can travel back down the slopes
Strong enough to face what’s in store……
Miz..
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| A Barn By Any Other Name...
Posted: 3/17/2005 6:18:54 AM | Well I just went back to see what I had posted and when I started here,I have been here since jan 30...and have posted 23 poems....you guys not sick of me yet?...lol
oh my, I must really be comfortable here to have posted that many...I double posted two from when I first started, I wrote them down so that I wouldnt do that again, that sucks...lol
Anyway I thank you all for letting me hang out in the barn and for putting up with my ramblings, your a welcome addition to my heart...xoxoxox
Miz | |
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| A Barn By Any Other Name...
Posted: 3/17/2005 9:27:54 AM | Had an emergency at work yesterday and was there for 18 hours, on top of not sleeping for the last 2 days.
Had to write this out now that I am home.....
Choices
==========
The phone rings like it did so many months ago, this time the call is for my life
Going off into the unknown destitude of barriers failed, resolute in the face of my own peril
Prayers to trade places with the angels, previously refused, now granted in one grievous error
No thoughts of consequences as I raced towards the salvation of others, selfless again
Arriving to a symphony of alarms and sirens, visions of night seen through fractured lights
Illuminating the dark with patriotic colors of red, white and blue, wrong country though
No time for questions or explanations, grabbed an aspirator and headed in to the abyss
Scene looked so normal, save for the brilliant strobe lights, pulsing to their frantic beat Searching by system for lives to save, not thinking about who might have to save mine
To breathe the air is to trade places with angels, so easy to join my dearly deaparted
Stand in the corridor of silence, no eyes to see my hesitation, no voices to stay my hand
Thinking of prayers unheard and prayers answered, my hand moving on it's own to the mask
I look at my reflection in the lab glass, I see my ghost, my kin, my past, and he is crying
I see the pain on his face as I stand frozen with my hand on my mask, unsure of what to do
He shakes his head and turns to look behind him, eyes on me again, giving our sibling signal
And in an instant he was gone and I was staring at my reflection, but seeing the man inside
Face down on the floor, succumbed to the leak, my mask forgotten, I went for it
Out of the corner of my eye I saw my brother smiling, giving me the signal I knew so well
Thumbs up, good job Sissy, live on, make me proud, live your life as if it were mine, he says
All with that single gesture, he saved me and allowed me to save him, and so...I live on. | |
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