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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 6/26/2005 12:34:14 PM | Hey all..
goat.....your sermons are great!! Loved batman... a good belly laugh, much needed today!! the day is hot and stuffy,,,,see ya's later.....
ahh ,,,,,sorry all --food is on my mind...
I peal back layers of onions
Warm greens of youth
Quiet browns of roots
Smells of fresh soil
Sweet flavours
Fresh from the ground
A dash of tarragon
Scents fill the room
A touch of garlic
Perfumes settle slowly
A faint trickling of pepper
Cradled
Laced with thyme
Silently simmering
In the belly of the pan | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 6/26/2005 7:56:27 PM | Goat, I love the Book of Goat, but the Batman thing had me rollin'
On a more somber note:
Beautiful Rose
Kiss tenderly her ashen lips,
Forgive her for her crime,
Let go of her hand you tightly grip,
And say goodbye one last time.
Your beautiful rose has fallen,
Her petals will dry and blow away,
A similar destiny for you is callin’,
To join your love on this day.
You drink depression so deep,
As you nightly visit her grave,
And come together in dreams as you sleep,
With the woman you could not save.
A bottle of pills spill out into your palm,
Washing them down with a drink,
Laying down into the nights calm,
On her grave you lie and think.
Heavier your eyes grow,
Your thoughts begin to wander,
Your destination you don’t really know,
Of this you dream and ponder.
Dream landscapes fill your mind,
Time seems to come to an end,
Your love you hope to find,
Your heartbreak you hope to mend.
A gentle touch on the shoulder,
From behind is where it came,
And the heart that could only smolder,
Now burst forth into flame.
For when you turn around to look,
It is your love that you have found,
The beautiful rose you had betook,
And her beauty again does astound.
A sweet, gentle kiss,
A warm, loving embrace,
The woman you so did miss,
Lovingly looks into your face.
You have found her in your dreams,
And you know this dream will never end,
Now a prisoner of her love, so it seems,
Your broken heart now can mend.
Morning sun peaks above the horizon,
Your body lies stiff and cold,
You are on the journey you had begun,
For your love, death did you bold.
~Kobold~ | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 6/27/2005 5:14:51 AM | what an awesome write Kobold, you know I love this side of you...well done....
give me inspiration please....lol...since I have written so many this year already my mind is on vacation I think...
will try to put something together, but I am always stopping by the barn to read and feel welcome by all my barn friends(I of course am the cutest and don't smell...)....lol..jk.
take care all and we shall see you very soon..
Miz | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 6/27/2005 6:43:25 AM | well I wrote this for a contest so I will post it here...
The Looking Glass
Alone in a high forgotten tower
Withered away a beautiful rare flower
One the world had forsaken
A life no longer alive her soul taken
Sitting alone each day on her bed
Pondering the fantasy’s she had read
Longing so deep in her heart
Wishing that someday she would take part
In the worlds of adventure, lust and love
A place where angels flew up above
Knights would come to save her soul
Kisses that would make her feel whole
Her favorite time to pass the day away
Was to use the looking glass to play
Imagining a world so beautiful and fine
A place that had no visible lines
No prejudice no cheats or persistent liars
No destruction theft or destroying fires
A place where all souls would join to be
Happy safe comforted and free
Looking through the glass she would see
A place to be who she wanted to be
A lover of life of nature so grand
A fighter of peace where she makes her stand
The looking glass became the only place
That held the promises of her fate
In the glass she was free to fly
Not locked in the tower praying to die
Her salvation came in the form of the glass
A hold on true life memories from the past
The glass gave her strength to hold on
For the day she would again be found
But for now as each day would pass
She would sit alone looking through the glass
And long for the day that she could be
Finally able to be alive and free........
Miz | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 6/27/2005 3:16:27 PM | Good work, Miz.
IN LIMBO
I'm walking by
this empty field
gazing on a fence
I try to limn your
smiling face
slightly protruding teeth
light laugh
skilled pretty hands
almost they come into focus
almost I stop and stare again
until sentinels glide the horizon
blocking the sun's rays
through every slat | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 6/27/2005 5:39:09 PM | Untitled
A child frightened,
Hearing the two people it loves the most yelling at each other,
It's mother and father.
The child does not know why they are screaming at each other,
They afraid, scared.
They do not understand what is happening.
The child senses fear and loneliness,
The chlid is confused, should they cry?
They are in their room, on their bed.
All the child knows is that love is not with them.
The child feels life around them is crumbling,
Seeing their loved ones arguing,
Sorrow and hell are there,
The child is learning hate rather than love,
Why does this happen?
Why is life miserable?
Does this happen to everyone?
I just wish to the screaming will stop,
Why does mommy and daddy look mad?
Is it my fault they are arguing?
Are they angry at me?
What did I do wrong?
The child cries,
The child does not know why,
But they cry.
No one to comfort them,
No one to tell them they did nothing wrong,
No one to tell them that mommy and daddy love them so.
The child wishes upon an angel,
To comfort them,
To give them some form of love,
To hug them,
To wipe their tears.
All the child seeks is to understand,
And is seeking love. | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 6/27/2005 7:01:04 PM | Hello all....It's another post n' run night. Good to see you guys here -- the regulars: Rory (still painting those images), Miz (still the cutest one in the barn, but I'm a close second though I do smell rather awful), Kobold (really good to have you back, pardner) and who else....? Hmm...
Ah, Breathing. Yes, of course. She is truly amazing...I have to confess I am quite smitten by her.
Hello to American Gentleman and er...that other guy who I forget the name of. I kinda missed you the first time around. Gawd, what was his name? Well, it'll come to me.
A belated thanks to Agent. The bat-poem was a bit of a running monologue that was amusing me at work last Friday...or it coulda been the beer.
Okay...the poem of the day....post n' run:
=================
Monday Night Fluff
I just had a Sleeman’s and Drumstick
And you’d think that I’d also be sick
But it certainly isn’t the case
Because of the stuff I push into my face.
For supper I had salad and perogies
And you’d think I’d be calling the dogies
Whilst hovering over the porcelain can
But I feel like an incredibly new man
Now I ain’t gonna go and run a four-minute mile
I won’t be doing that for at least a little while
I’ll just be removing my pants
And take the rest of the evening by chance
===========================
And I shall run, as fast as my bloated body will comply. See you guys tomorrow... | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 6/27/2005 7:26:49 PM | evening all.....
Hey Miz....Your words are as sweet as you :-)
Kobold... Great write, always is...
Rory...Still putting them down with style
Hey, where's da Pickles....? I hope she is doing ok with the move?
And Da Goat....breathing is in awe of you~I is a smitten kitten
- ... - Soon to see a prairie sky - ... -
G'night ya'll...I love this old Barn and all you dwellers
A man sits in the rain
His fingers begin to talk
Chords of the day he plays
Each morning he listens
The sound of waves
Rhythm in the wind
Tickling the strings
Of moments in the grass
He looks to the mountains
Silently he ponders
The passage of time
His memories of notes
Moments gathered in the dust
Emotions of Diamonds and Rust
Gently resting on his heart | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 6/28/2005 12:30:56 PM | hello all...wrote this on another site...wondered what yall think...been busy working lately havent had much time to post, but i try to keep up with reading. thnx, for all the inspiration...
prisonprism
invision a prison, like a prism,
that devides men into colors,
makes enemies of brothers,
breaks hearts of mothers
and lovers, discover the facts,
respond dont react, relax
drop in and drop out, release fear, devour doubt
in the darkness of your mouth,
the favored flavor savored
your inapropiate behaviour,
now requires a saviour?
im not a sinsation
im insatiable,
my faith isnt, inflatable
off the charts its unratable,
ill save you the trouble,
and pop your bubble,
hell is for training
rearanging, retracing,
arranging your rewiring,
changes what yer desiring
alters what yer requiring,
to define your life as good
you should, if you could,
watch the words you use to describe
lifes a papyrus, you are the scribe. | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 6/28/2005 12:49:45 PM | Good to see you back, th30ry. I liked it^^ . Strong, yet still leaving the reader enough to get involved in and complete.
REVISITING CENTRAL PARK, BURNABY
The harsh wash of nostalgia
plunges like a dead, dropped hawk,
dragging my present gaze
through my childhood years.
Here, we raced to the broken waterpump.
Here, we counted trees--
dark legs in sun.
There, I threw fastballs and curves--
or tried to.
Huckleberries were plentiful,
the taste seeming sharper in secret places.
Now, the Skytrain's cement supports stand
along and over the rusted train rails.
Blind windows of high-rises loom
across the park's edge.
A celebratory fountain and plaque
stand at the North-East entrance
set against thick firs,
a background glazed over as are my eyes. | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 6/28/2005 4:53:42 PM | G'Day to all you barn folk.....
Rory -- Vivid recall of Central park ...
The sound of dancing laughter
Scent of Blueberries
The stillness of a quiet touch
The sight of a butterfly
Emitting bubbling sounds
The lapping of the sea
Waves washing over me
Feeling
The warmth of his caress
Words spoken in the mist
Sensations of breath
On a slowing moving day | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 6/28/2005 5:55:30 PM | Drowning
I feel like I am drowning
There is nothing here to grasp
Life seems to be moving on
At times slow and other times fast
So much invading my mind
The thoughts are coming strong
Don’t know if I can hold on
When life seems to be so wrong
I put one foot in front of the other
Just to fall flat on my face
Seems life is holding me down
Keeping me in the same place
Can’t move forward get on out
Of this hole I seem to be in
Help me someone show me the way
Trouble less thoughts help me win
Needing something to hold on
A pillar of strength for me
Someone to bring me back to life
And help me finally see
The way out of this hole
A way to life fulfilling and free
What I must do each day of my life
To help me keep strong and be me…
Miz | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 6/28/2005 6:23:53 PM | Ak. I am so uninspired today...even the beer isn't helping at all. Ak.
Hello, peoples...good to see you all here and laying down some quality poetry here. It's the regulars I love to read...Miz, Rory, Kobold and Beloved Breathing...you all are what gives the barn it's shape and depth. If it were only me here...well, the place would fall apart.
Howdy to Th3ory...good to see you again in this here barn, pardner.
Okay...all I have is this tonight. "Goat droppings" sums it up priddy good:
===================================
Eeek! It’s Wet! Run For Your Lives!
When did people become so afraid of the rain?
All grimacing and running as if the wet equals pain
Mothers drag their kids like the devil’s at their heels
Never pausing to know how the rain actually feels
All of them – Mothers, Fathers, Uncles and Aunties
With their umbrellas up, looking as gay as a bag of panties
================================
Ak. I'm going for a shower. I smell kinda extra goaty today. Later, eh? | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 6/28/2005 6:56:03 PM | Lol Goat!
Hey all-many wonderous write here today-as usual!
Gotta drop and run-cya later.
I Don’t Dream Anymore
I don’t dream anymore,
And it leaves me feeling empty,
My mind like a closed door,
Where I can no longer see.
Sleep has become like death,
I close my eyes to its blackness,
The rhythm of my heart and breath,
Tell me that I’m not lifeless.
Once upon a time I did dream,
And what wonders they showed me,
Haunting landscapes mild and extreme,
And surreal visions for me to see.
Even nightmares were a welcome sight,
Enticing my imagination,
With its horrors and its fright,
But now all I have is the frustration.
I miss my visions that once filled my mind,
And the realms that I was taken to,
Where thought and idea intertwined,
Where reality wasn’t true.
So each night I go to sleep,
With hope of visions and dreams,
Into my mind where they creep,
To rip the fabric of realities seams.
My mind is the doorway,
But my dreams are the keyhole,
To unlock the pass way,
And enter my soul.
~Kobold~ | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 6/29/2005 4:23:14 PM | Did this one in about 10 minutes for a poetry contest-thought I'd share it here.
The Mysterious Stranger
Mysterious stranger, of the dark gloomy night,
Hiding in the shadows, just out of sight.
Is it male or female, is it friend or foe,
And why is it hiding, I don’t really know.
It lurks in the shadows, as if it’s waiting,
Just giving you a glimpse, as if baiting.
Go take a look, and see who lies in the dark,
You’ll find it in the shadowy places, just near the park.
But be very cautious, as you approach the scene,
Everyone who has looked for it, was never again seen.
The mysterious stranger, may always remain a mystery,
For some things are better not known, and better left be.
~Kobold~ | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 6/29/2005 6:30:22 PM | Hello all...howdy to Kobold...nice writes, pardner. Sorry to stink up the barn with some more Goat Droppings (tm)m but it's all I have.
Here we go...
=================================
The Gentle Death of a Bowflex
In the beginning --
Oh, but it’s so amazing – it can do so many things
Sure, the cost is a little high
But think of how much we’ll save
By buying it instead of going to the gym
Well, I guess we never really go to the gym
Nevermind
We’ll buy it and we’ll use it every day
We’ll get our money’s worth
No problem
After the beginning --
It sure isn’t the easiest thing to put together
Arriving in twenty boxes like that
And it sure doesn’t look all that comfortable
It’s really tough to move it to the living room
And tougher to move the TV closer to it
The exercises look like hard work too
What?
What do mean there’s no cup holder on this thing?
Well, is there a place to put the ashtray?
Hmm….
The end --
Oh, but it’s so amazing – it can do so many things
Why, just this morning we dried a whole load
Of towels on it
And we still have room to hang our coats on it
Yep, it’s pretty amazing
===================================
Me? I'd never buy one of those over priced elastic band machines. A bike is far better, cheaper and more practical. But then, you can only fit two good-sized towels on a bike...
Hmm...maybe there are advantages to the Bowflex?
Anyhoo...see you guys tomorrow. G'night. | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 6/29/2005 7:40:41 PM | Howdy Kobold...good stuff you are leaving here....
What is up with that Bowflex anywho?....I dunno 'bout some of these ... inventions
Hey sweet Goat.....Ya amaze this gal...ya do
Okkee dokkkee
Night, eh.....
Boxes all stacked
Neatly in the corner
Seventeen months
Living on the edge of the lake
Twenty seven boxes and a bike
A journey they did make
Friday was the day
They took them away
For a month and a bit
I will simply sit
Memories I’ve made
Alone in the shade
The silence of this place
I will remember with grace
The love I hold in my heart
Simple thoughts as I quietly depart | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 6/30/2005 12:24:37 AM | Yes, Goat, you stink up the Barn. But just think of the alternative. If your gases were trapped, you'd just get an inflated head. And it's obvious that, unlike some other preening versifiers, this isn't a problem for you.
THE SCINTILLANT COFFIN
Sparkling, I imagine, your liquid eyes.
Sepulchral, I feel, your long ago touch.
I drain my thoughts in the sink of my guts.
And, a gentle fester, a star
radiates your empty, ambiguous presence.
I hide from the night's bugbears.
Turning, my joints crack in perplexity
to your panicked, uncertain plans.
I tuck into my bed's tomb
and pull about my shoulders the shroud. | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 6/30/2005 3:55:26 AM | Good morning barn dwellers....
it is so nice to see familiar faces that always bring a smile to my face when needed....thank you all for being a part of my life....
here is a little humour, it started to come to me one night as I was off to bed, weird how that happens.....don't know why it came out, but here it is anyway....lol
dating colors.....
Red means stop
Green means go
Yellow is amber
Meaning take it slow
First base flashes red
Little peck on the cheek
Smile and goodbye
Till the next time we speak
Second base is yellow
Some kisses a few pets
Temperatures rising
Slow down not ready yet
Third base is green
All systems are go
There still may be some red to stop
And some yellow to take it slow
Know the colors of dating
And what they all mean
Then guaranteed you will soon be
Getting into someone’s jeans...
Miz
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 6/30/2005 7:32:33 PM | Miz...excellent writes!
As for me, another post n' run. Well-flung goat droppings flying through the air and landing here:
==============================
A Tribute to a Fine Nova Scotian Beer
Alexander Keith, I hardly knew ye
But there was a night when I spewed ye
All over the johnny of a distant bar
I remember there were bits of chicken wings
And various sticky things
What didn't stick to my chin travelled far
Bless this beer that bears your name, sir
After three or four my mind whirs
And I know I should not drive a car
The one I have now is nearly frozen
I checked it by dipping my toes in
I drink it thus and shout a hearty "YAR!!"
===================================
Burp. I'm going for a nap now...maybe a sleep...or something...
G'night! | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 6/30/2005 8:15:57 PM | Hey all..
Have a good night --Great words from y'all.... Vivid images...
She wakes lonely and afraid
She mumbles and weeps
The days pass before her
She can’t make them cease
Angry she screams
Clinging to the hope
The emptiness of her dreams
Leave marks in the sand
She sits on a wheel
Her mind spinning words
Sadness spoken each night
These the last words heard | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 7/1/2005 7:06:10 PM | Ah..nothing like a paid holiday to take the edge off a work week. I sure wish I could find a way to deduct beer on my income tax. Someday..
Owing to lack of time and interest...here's a haiku:
====================
Barbeques fire up
Steak resting on solar flares
Here come the fireworks
=====================
Happy Canada Day to all us Canadians, eh? I'm wearing nothing but a Canadian flag right now...it's rather comfortable.
See youse guys tomorrow, eh... | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 7/1/2005 9:36:45 PM | I am back to say hello to my ole Barn mates! It is the sweet and charming one from before this time with her sexyleegsandsmile to light up the barn with my presence! Oh how I have missed you all and now I have come back for a visit!
Gone for A While!
Here I am back again
Could not stay away
I thought often of the barn
Missing all of you
Here I am to continue
My journey in the barn
Is my bale of hay still gold
or has it been filled by another?
The ole Goat a smiling
And still writing great poetry
Misbehaving still around
with her beautiful presence
Kobold with magnificent writings
The agent I see still visits
And many new faces here!
It sure feels great to be back at the ole barn! Sweet Goat I cherish thee! Do I now get a hug from you all because here is one big one for you from the charming and sweet one! Look forward to further contacts with you all! | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 7/2/2005 12:06:02 AM | BUS, SKYTRAIN ODYSSEY
The driver is irritated. He's behind schedule.
Stops are sudden. The horn sounds constantly.
A man, happy and restless, picks a seat.
His flabby, ruddy jowls flow. He speaks
to the old man across from him, but gets
no response. Undeterred, he continues.
The old man finally cracks a joke.
They pass the time, the time, the time, spreading
like a spirochete through the brain's roller coaster.
Time, steady, penetrating perceptions
like this high-level train slipping along
through lullabies and nightmares; greetings, good-byes.
Corrugated sheet-metal back doors
of warehouses, gray, squalid, squat, expansive,
amorphous, a jangle of spray-painted graffiti
adorning the doors in front of which stand
two chunky women smoking on a break.
Brambles, kleenex caught and pierced on thorns,
exhaust-draping pall pressing on branches
in hidden festooneries over broken bottles.
Brave billboards with ten-foot glasses of milk.
The executive leans on a double-glazed window,
exhausted, head down in some other world.
More propane tanks, pallets, bins,
then a green clearing with lingering light--
seconds of affirmation before the year,
moribund, feels for darkness as a tentative
jerk the convict gives to test the rope. | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 7/2/2005 9:16:26 AM | welcome back charming, it is nice to see you around again...
and yes your bale is still there , waiting for you, I even dusted it occasionally...lol...
hope your doing well, and we shall talk to you real soon, I pop in now and then so drop me a line if you like..
take care all thee dwelleres of the barn, have a great day!!!!!
Miz | |
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