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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 7/11/2005 5:04:38 PM | Good one, Rory.
I'm so sorry to pollute the air with what I have. It's a post n' run night...here we go:
========================
Seniors, Buffets and Jim
I heard the voices of the elderly
Down at the buffet
Just talking about the cost of their pills
And the aches that have become a part
Of their lives
As I looked about
I noticed there are a lot of senior citizens
Clustered here at the buffet
Some slowly eating
Some standing in line for the mashed potatoes
Some itching for the corn
Some simply with corns
I imagined them so drawn to buffets
Like wildebeests to a watering hole
Oblivious to crocodiles
Never heeding the bill
Yet complaining about the cost of things
And never leaving a tip
I could see them lining up
In Vegas
At a Jimmy Buffett concert
With plates in their hands
While Jim searches for his
Lost Shaker of Salt in Margaritaville
Many grey heads would shake
In disapproval
Their upper plates would click with
Impotent rage and their fists
Like withered apples
Would thump against their palms
As they complained
Then forgot
As the neon lights of the next buffet
Punch through the dusk
==============================
And here I run. See ya'll tomorrow, eh? | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 7/11/2005 10:18:13 PM | Metamucil
While calming overactive peristalsis
And helping regulate
Those who constipate
Has a tendency
To double in size
Increase it's mass
When mixed with liquid and then not consumed
Resulting in a gelatinous mess
Which at best
Is good for repairing shoe leather | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 7/12/2005 3:37:30 PM | Hello you barn folk ....I'zzzzzz melting ...ekkk ....Gotta get a brew....
have a grand ole' day ......
pickles ...you are quick as can be...witty I say
Ahh goat....you amaze me...yuo make me laugh.....
Souls take centre stage
Time fades to blue
Moments pass like water
Forever opens arms to the sun
Eternity speaks of sensations
Gentle words on the tongue
Hearts in rhythm with the rain
Clouds colour blades of grass
The moon lulls the evening to sleep
Feelings echoed on the beach | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 7/12/2005 5:33:03 PM | Hello all. Hello to my dear barn-dwelling friends. A special hello to my dear Breathing...you amaze me still. I think I'd be amazed watching you get yourself a beer. And I'd be over the moon if you got one for me too. You can even shake it all up and I wouldn't mind.
Well, I'm going to drop this poem here and then go and cool off. It's too friggen hot here to think much.
Here we go:
==========================
A Secret Discovered
The secret to the perfect union
Is something so simple, you see
It is not about being all too nice
And actively building harmony
Nope, it ain’t the garbage
Or how well trimmed is the lawn
He simply does whatever she says
And that turns her on
============================
Okay...a bag of frozen peas on the crotch and a cool beverage. See you guys tomorrow, eh? | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 7/12/2005 8:00:45 PM | It was a match made in heaven...well close
Saskatoon.
A pungent Goat with a licence to quote
From the "Book of Lard"
Sermonizing Each Lard's day
And with Goat's way with words
Had us holding our breath for more
Or was it the fumes emanating that caused a breathing cessation?
But as always, fact is stranger than fiction
His wise, worldly words and diction
Captured a walkin', talkin', livin' doll
A Gangsta Moll
She ain't leaving
Breathin
I can tell
Is happy in the Barn
And with a Goat's Smell
 | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 7/12/2005 8:36:46 PM | Hi Pickles, I'm not much of a poet,and I don't remember were I got this from, but after reading it I got a little jump back in my step and felt good
Today I smiled, and all at once
things didn't look so bad
Today I shard with someone else,
a bit of hope I had
Today I sang a little song,
and felt my heart grow light
And walked happy little mile,
with not a cloud in sight.
Today I worked with what I had
and longed for nothing more,
And what had seem like only weeds,
were flowers at my door.
Today I loved a little more and
complained a little less,
And in the giving of myself,
I forgot my weariness. | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 7/12/2005 8:51:57 PM | HALLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
If you wrote that then you have poetry in you SOUL
It's not about how good or bad someone else thinks it is ...it is about how YOU feel...and I think you felt pretty good
MUAh "liljohn"
Pickles | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 7/13/2005 12:01:08 AM | I like your entries lately, pickles. Hi to the Goat, and to the wonderful shepherdess who's walking hand-in-hoof with that incomparable oderiforous one. Kobold, hi. Hi, Miz. And big hugs to Tera.
===================================================================
THE GUESTS
Sparkling waters, twinkling waters
providing a space in my brooding--
for-- twenty seconds?
Then a motor competing with drunken shouts
of three teenagers in the weekend inboard.
Flushed with sun, I lazily scan
their movements-- comedy, pathos, and boredom.
Finally, boredom. And then they're off.
The sea is unaffected. I envy the sea. | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 7/13/2005 3:41:32 AM | Good Morning everyone..
Special hi's to all my fellow barn dwellers and favorite poets out there....you hopefully know who you are....
Man the heat is killing me, I ache all over, skin is sensitive and I don't want to be touched...grrrr...I like warm weather but 44 with the humidex has just gotta go..lol
Sorry not posting poems lately, the brain is fried and on vacation, once in awhile something pops out but then gets lost in translation so to speak, so hopefully soon....
Have a great day and keep writing...
Miz | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 7/13/2005 5:20:08 PM | Ergh...it's hot on the prairie too. Bleah.
Hey Pickles...thanks for the words. Breathing will be here very very VERY soon and I'm all a-itching for her arrival. Well, I do itch frequently but this is a special itch. No, I won't say "if you know what I mean" after that.
Greetings to liljohn (izzat his name? I'm too lazy to take another look). This is one fine place for poetry...sure, there are other threads here but this is the only one that smells like goat.
Rory...you still got it man. Amazing.
Breathing...I could spend a half hour telling you how much you amaze me but you just don't wanna hear it. So, I'll sit here quietly all goose pimply in awe of you. You are a blessing, m'dear.
Miz...use the bag of frozen peas. One under each arm and get the fan on ya. Then watch something suitable like Ice Station Zebra. I know that gets me through the hot days.
Okay...this is pretty much a post n' run night. I just finished supper. Can you tell tell?
===============================
Damn! That’s One Fine Steak!
Is it possible for a man to love a steak
So much
That he is nearly able to lactate?
Is it possible that this steak can
Be eaten alone
Without garnish or sauce?
Is it possible this same steak
Can be enjoyed
Without a single beer tickling the tongue?
Is it possible this steak
Can sit, cool
Ever so slightly and be loved?
Loved so much that
Upon first bite
First taste
That the poor delirious man
Cries out and burps instead
And he sinks in post-orgasmic slumber
Can it be?
Oh, it was
=========================
Ah...now for a little R & R...see ya'll tomorrow, eh? | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 7/13/2005 8:12:41 PM | Hey you all ...The talent in this Ol' Barn inspires me!! ... I am honoured to know all of you…
Hello Liljohn --- A wondrous place this barn is…..
Miz – If it helps I am Meltttttingggg here too- I keep sticking my head in the freezer
Pickles -- Y'ar great with them words ....I am anxious to travel east, yup. I love this
Ol’ Barn and the Goat that resides here….Two weeks and I will be breathing the same air …
Hey Rory... Your words always leave an impression…And this gal is thrilled to be walking hand –n- hoof with the Ol’ Goat…
And Sweet Goat - - That’s you …You are brilliant -- Have I told ya numerous times? But do you believe me…nah uh…. ;-) I am blessed ….
Well, here is what I have today……
Gracious and sweet are his words
Open and welcoming are his hands
August brings the warmth of his touch
Thankful to the stars for his heart | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 7/13/2005 9:03:27 PM | THE FREE MAN BEHOLDS THE NEW UNIVERSE
Yes, I know it's summer still.
I close the patio door
on boring begonias and fulgent dew
because I'm a free man,
a free man scratching an itchy wrist.
The past walks through my front door
so I reopen the patio glass
and sing in my mind,
the pleasures there to behold
where I'd forgotten them last week.
Clearly, this scene won't do--
I apologize to the begonias
and fling my gaze
(perhaps unparallelled ! )
across the lawn
and into the neighbouring shrub
of a most ponderous family,
huddling in wet green
for a much needed haircut.
Each form assaulting my eyes !
Each form a self !
I close the patio door
and ask my past
to reorder itself with what I see
in this morning mediocrity.
Answer? A love scene,
and a trip to the dentist.
Clearly, this won't, this can't, do.
I need order! Order, I say!
I reopen the patio door
and peek between latticed fingers.
Why, the shrub shirks in the same spot.
The begonias breathe or sleep
or whatever it is begonias do.
But they've left me out!
I close the patio door.
My past is a vale of tears,
trampled upon by marauding chariots.
It is growing even as I think of it,
then quits, exhausted.
I push a lock through the air of my past.
My wrist has stopped itching.
I stiffen, knowing
a free man is not allowed to repent. | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 7/13/2005 10:01:59 PM | Chicken Tikka Masala
Is a miracle of taste
The taste buds flower with anticipation
But, if one suddenly ends up wearing it
This shade of yellow, ocre, mustard
Is impossible to eradicate
And as you look at your ruined shirt
And/or skirt
You wish that what you had chosen to eat
Had been turquoise blue
Or peach.
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 7/14/2005 6:06:00 PM | Howdy all. Howdy to the talented barn-dwellers...Rory, Pickles and (of course) Breathing.
It's a post n' run night again...work drains me and only a lot of scratching and sleeping can cure it for me.
Here we go:
=========================
An Afternoon with an Auditor
On the spot
Without a net
Quickly answering questions
Quickly avoiding the subject
Quickly referring things to other
More knowledgeable people
Still the questions came
Testing, never resting
Such thick things percolate in her
Accountant’s brain
Rolling like a freight train
Never, never
Oh, so hell-bent for leather
The answers she would have
They became like a salve
A balm to calm
In the end, we won
We explained the path of paper
And, in the end, she grunted
Shuffled away to her BMW
To think and redefine
The universe for herself
============================
Yup...that kinda day today. It should be over until the next time...I think.
See you guys tomorrow....g'night, eh? | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 7/14/2005 6:34:53 PM | hey ho all .......A Talented lot y'ar...
Tis a summer day here..... yowzaaaaa....
Seeking shelter from the sun
Night all....
Bodies reaching for comfort in the sand
Rivers blanketed with souls seeking relief
Evening clouds provide little shelter
Ascending from the day
Thoughts sit silent on the bay
Hearts pleading for rain
Images held in the breeze
Night falls in the trees
Glimpses of reprieve felt in the leaves | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 7/14/2005 8:21:07 PM | Untitled
Love her is all I did,
Yet I do not know why,
But I loved her,
Treat her right is all I did,
But why?
Why did she seek another man?
What sorrow my heart and soul must wander,
Will it end?
Should I sleep forever more?
Or should I wake and continue life's continuing sorrows?
To sleep is to say we end all,
To wake to is to say to continue the search for the one?
Aye the rub is clear to me!
To search for a new love, I shall,
Lest a tithered such as mine,
Who should want it?
Am I destined to walk this lonely road alone?
Do others who have walked my path feel this pain?
What is one to do?
This journey I now take,
I see many have taken the easy roads,
That easy roads that leads to love but the love never lasts,
From the time the sun rises and sets, The love has faded,
And lo true love is never found.
Few have taken long and hard road,
Those who have taken this road,
It leads to eternal happiness,
The love that is seeked, once found, will last many life times,
It is said this love is so blessed that a shining star always be near,
Love shall never grow cold, Never lose its flavor,
Those who have yearned that moment,
Blessed they shall always be.
The quest is clear to me now,
I carry with me only heart,
To show to those who are worthy of showing it when my journey ends.
Likewise, They will show me their heart as well,
In true love we shall be,
Forever more we shall be together,
In sickness and in health,
In bad fortune and good,
I will never leave her side,
In front of her I shall not walk,
For I may not know the way always,
In back of her, I shall not walk,
For she may be seek my guidance,
But together side by side, we shall walk,
As one we walk, Together we will guide each other,
Hold hands together we shall,
For nothing shall seperate us,
Yes, This is my journey now,
From my past, I leave behind the one who took my love for granted,
I seek anew and I bid her a final adieu,
For before I my journey,
Tears begin to fall from my cheek,
I know now her fate, Nothing I can do,
For love her as all I can do never more,
She has choosen the short and easy path. . . . . | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 7/14/2005 9:44:17 PM | Dog sitting is a no brainer
One doesn't have to be a trainer
Or even a dog guide walker.................
Except...
Try an ancient Lab and a Shitzu
On a doggie walk, two leashes, two dogs
And you
Bylaw says..."Poop and Scoop"
So one poops and while trying to scoop
The leash extends and the other takes off
Chasing after..who knows what
So hand full of poop and nowhere to dump it
Then the other decides to unload it
Here's the challenge I had to face
Two bags of poop and two leashes
One pair of hands, no escape
Learned today to take one dog at a time
Peace of poop/scoop and peace of mind | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 7/15/2005 7:24:49 PM | Post n' run...here we go...
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An Unintentional Evening
It’s a bit like Toronto out there
All hot and hazy
Overcast skies forming a storm
Then failing and trying again
The city is empty, unlike Old T.O.
The working folk have completed
Their exodus to the lakes and
Other places not decorated by concrete
Taking their thirty-foot trailers
Into a well-gravelled lot marked with numbers
Paying their seven dollars a night
And calling it “getting back to nature”
While the city, left and bereft
Becomes the place for roughing it
========================
See you tomorrow, eh? | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 7/15/2005 7:56:15 PM | Greetings one and all.....
Evening AmericanGm
Pickles -- I laughed at "poop n' scoop" I darn near choked on my Brew... :-P
And Da Goat ... ^~^ Well, you are a wonder.... Why do people pay to sleep on concrete and call it "camping" ?...
Stillness of sleep
Birth of quiet dreams
Seconds before waking
Muscles stretch to taste
The first breath of the sun
Fresh scent of daybreak
Midday sun showers
Drop from the sky
Gentle rain cools tired eyes
Moisture sleeps beneath lids
Night all,,,, find a comfy hay bale and settle in.... | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 7/16/2005 7:25:10 PM | Howdy all. Another busy day, but it was good. I didn't have to work!! WOOT!!
So, in celebration of not working, I did very little else. So, here's a haiku that reflects the day:
===================
A good haiku keeps
A brain stall from happening
This one is not good
====================
So, see you guys tomorrow. Be ready for the sermon. Wear your best raincoats and rubber boots 'cuz you may get splashed with something.
G'night, eh? | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 7/16/2005 8:15:43 PM | Hey hey .....I hear thunder.... I smell rain....
Dawn leads the way
Wind rustles in trees
Rain shines down
Stillness settles the heart
Sweet waters
Quenching the thirst
Inhaling cool rivers of the day
You sit with each breath
G' Night and sweet dreams all.. | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 7/17/2005 8:15:09 AM | Ahh....Breathing...you are so amazing. Stunning, in fact.
And hello to you all. I've really enjoyed the writes in here over the last week. I know I haven't said much over the last little while with my days being plugged up with other, more domestic, stuff. But I do appreciate all of you guys and gals and all of your words.
Well, it looks like I'm the first one in the Olde Chapel of Funk (unless someone has already posted something while I'm jabbering on here), so I'll get right to the sermon for this fine overcast Sunday:
=============================
Psalm 82 – The Book of Goat
The Great Peter Gzowski said
“Never eat at a place called Mom’s
“And never play cards with
“A man called Doc.”
Wise words from a man
Who likely did both
Many times
Thy Lard pondered a moment
And didst scratch His ample buttocks
And realized there is Great Value
In Saint Peter’s words
As Thy Lard gazed around the landscape
He didst realize such Universal Truths:
Never bet on horses with the names:
“Broken Leg”
“Always Last”
“Directionless”
Avoid lapdances from Glendas, Hanks
And Bufords
Don’t leave your kids with Ghengis or Adolf
Even for a few hours
The consequences could be shattering
Never buy hardware at a place called
“Monique’s”
Never buy meat from a place called
“Salmonella Ed’s”
(Or anything for that matter)
Don’t go to “Mahatma’s House of Beef Ribs”
Unless thou are absolutely ready to be disappointed
Don’t play chess for money
With a 10-year old named Dmitri
Or Aleksander
Unless thou likest humility
Oh, and don’t get married in a church
That has “House of Waffles” as a tagline
Unless you want to disappoint the bride
And fill yourself with substandard
Breakfast Fare
And If you get into a cab driven by
“Jesus” or “Siddhartha”
Be prepared for a really long ride
Amen
=================================
Okay...back to the domestical effort. See you guys later, eh? | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 7/17/2005 7:10:00 PM | Excuse me first while I sidestep the droppings....... There, that's better.
AQUA-GREEN SWELLS
Outboards cut wakes,
ocean grooves
trailing ahead
in aqua-green swells.
Cresting foam takes
rolling moves
up, then dead,
buried by salt smells.
Far off, the breaks
like white horse hooves
clamorous, led
above Neptune's hells. | |
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