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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 11/7/2005 1:10:26 PM | 25 of 28:
Hallowe'en's mushy pumpkin
sits by a witch's whip--
both in contorted smirks. | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 11/7/2005 3:37:30 PM | Fog..
Fog so very thick...you can barely see your foot in front of you as you take a step...
drops of water seem to fall all around you...but it is not rain it is the fog....
no ray of sun is able to penetrate.... no moon is exposed between the clouds above the fog...
the smell ....of rain not , salt water...and yet not of rain...a bit fishier.....
hurridly trying to get to school...yet there is now way to hurry in the fog....not and be safe...
wondering if you are even headed in the correct directions...familiar landmarks hidden in its depths...
a 5 minute trip taking 30 minutes and then some......so curious....listening expecting to hear foghorns...but you don't...it is the 21st century....
rushing trying to get there....
oh.....no...yuck...what is it....
what has been stepped in...it is...no it can't be...but it is
Hallowe'en's mushy pumpkin
(dont' worry the mushy pumpkin is still fine...) | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 11/7/2005 6:24:11 PM | Howdy Sukari. It was foggy here, too but it was a dreaded ice fog that sticks to your clothes and helmet and bike as you pass through it. Pretty cool. Good to see you here again with your sharp visual words.
Hi Rory...the pumpkin clings to life, though mushily.
Well, what I have isn't good but I'm putting it here anyway:
===========================
Poemless -- Phase III
A Monday certainly ain't no funday
But this one was kinda quaint
To have a little fun, I sat on my thumb
It sounds like a riot, but it ain't
==========================
Yep...it has been that kind of day. Early to bed and sleep it off.
G'night, eh? | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 11/8/2005 5:55:11 PM | Hi. Here's something quick.
A poem a day keeps the rash away...
======================
Three Lines of Stuff
You can’t tell a person with no chin
To chin up
Because, man, they just don’t have it in them
=======================
See ya tomorrow! | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 11/9/2005 5:31:05 PM | Howdy all. Just me. Here we go:
====================
Prithee, O Planks and Doors
O mighty Barn
It stands still...look tharn!
The doors stand quite ajar
It blights the field from afar
The paint all flaked away
In the heat of summer days
It became a lean-to
in the wind without mean-to
Now with winter approaching
And mean winds encroaching
The place gets a little cold
A place to tread for a goat so bold
=====================
There we go...see you tomorrow! | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 11/9/2005 6:04:35 PM | Hello to all who wander through these fine doors.....
Mari_Sam - - Good to see ya …all is fantabulous here.
Sukari - - G’day to ya …. Gotta love that fog ;-)
Kobold - - Glad you have those weird moods
Rory, oh Rory, in all his pumpkin glory- - How is the rain out west?
Smelly Goat - - “Prithee, O Planks and Doors” - - You inspire me, my’ love. You are brilliant; I know you refuse to see it, but Y’ar.
~
With each step
The heavy sound of snow
Falls underfoot
A history recalled
Quietly existing in the dark
The taste of bark
Familiar on the tongue
Words carved in trees
Time remembers
Days silently lived
A child of winter
He sleeps
~
Winter is making its way to the prairie land...Nothing like that first taste of snow... | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 11/9/2005 6:22:23 PM | Brrrr.....I'm getting cold just reading that, breathing. And what's with the Goat-- he's becoming more lyrical with each post. Soon he'll be singing odes to Saskatchewan nightingales. Bravo, Goat !
==================================================================
Hallowe'en's mushy pumpkin,
self-enclosed and solitary,
a moon in a gap of unity. | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 11/10/2005 6:34:02 PM | Hi all. Thanks to everyone who stopped by and posted...this wouldn't be a barn without ya'll. For me, it's another post n run night.
=================
Four days this work week
It felt like fifty thousand
Hours that marched on by
=================
Okay...I gotta git for now. G'night! | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 11/10/2005 7:01:14 PM | Hiya all!!!!
Laughter is the cure
To take away the blues
Especially when
Personalities come in 2’s
This is where I come
To start the laughing phase
To the barn and dwellers
On any given days
 Sam  | |
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| Sight
Posted: 11/10/2005 10:03:26 PM | Sight
Can you not see that I love you?
Can you not see I care?
Can you not see I am here for you?
I am all the things you say you want,
Yet you don't see me
What will open your eyes?
What will make you see?
When will you realize what you are longing for,
Is standing right before you.
When will you see it is me?
8/10/04 | |
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| Sight
Posted: 11/10/2005 10:12:17 PM | LaLa land
Home of large ego's and stars
In and out burgers
And bars
Where the rich and famous hang out
Hollywood singing it's own hurrah
Actors and writers and limos and shows
A fun place to go ..for a visit
But I would rather watch movies
From the comfort of my own home.
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh the sanity of a suburban mindset! | |
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| Sight
Posted: 11/11/2005 10:33:29 AM | Good to see you guys here. Thanks to Mari for that short and sweet and a little sweaty poemette. Welcome to Diamondlady...nice to meet you and thank you for posting in this old barn. And Pickles -- trapped in suburbia. Always good to see you guys here.
This is Remembrance Day here in Canada, Armistice Day in the United Kingdom and Veteran's Day in the United States. This day has always meant a lot to me, though I rarely attend any of the functions.
The poem of the day? It's right here:
================================
The Eleventh Hour, The Eleventh Day, The Eleventh Month
The moon came to earth
Craters, shell holes and an interminable stink
Clung to the mud
Shadowed in the hard Verey lights
Tired eyes scanned no man’s land
For no land’s men
Fingers on triggers, blinking once a minute
Still wincing from Moaning Minnie’s last visit
Only rats and worms flourished there
Lice, too, kept warm in trousers and hair
On November 11th, it ended
Only officially
It lingered on for many weeks after
Then months more for some
As all that standstill energy ground to a halt
In the sucking spring mud
We stood on the shoulders of giants
Under our feet, they shrugged and tensed
Slumped
Then stilled
Flanders Field lay crimsonly quiet
Makeshift cemeteries, appetites sated
Refused further helpings
Came to rest
The Last Post floats above
Cold stone cenotaphs
Over tight, drawn faces
Two minutes of silence rolls like fog
We remembered then
We remembered then and carried on
========================================
Another poem tomorrow...keep your powder dry and your rifle clean. It'll be coming over the parapet in 24 hours or so.
Be good, enjoy the day, have a beer. | |
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| Sight
Posted: 11/11/2005 11:47:47 AM | Goat that was so moving.
I was at the cenotaph today and it was unsettling to realise that there are virtually no survivors of the Great War and precious few from the Second World War.
We take it for granted
Our freedom
Blood spilled, those killed
Now almost forgotten
The ultimate price
The ultimate sacrifice
A generation lost
What cost our freedom?
Medals worn on chests with pride
But the eyes can never hide
The pain of loss felt inside
Let us share that pain
And give thanks again
For our freedom | |
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| Remember
Posted: 11/11/2005 1:20:02 PM | REMEMBER
Ghostly gunfire ringing in their ears,
Canes and walkers and old-age fears,
They laid their lives on the line for us:
Heroes, all, with honour and trust. | |
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| Remember
Posted: 11/11/2005 3:37:57 PM | 4528
The Day After Yesterday
12 November 2005
In a world to remember
death to soldiers not yet born
This avenue of ending
now many tears in volume cast
A November knight
in memory of veterans past
Names etched in gold upon concrete
blood red in droplets shed to earth
Human suffering and true flesh
ripped from the womb of mankind
Their bones scattered in burial
held in thoughts unknown in mind
Those fathers who never were
and others whom were not to see
Children born to the unborn
and taken into a world unclothed
Uniforms gifted in payment
of flag draped coffins closed
This day after yesterday
and a future to arrive
Guns loaded - ammunition ready
to greet the soul of fresh air
Upon an atmosphere of spirit
all derived on entity and fear
© Christopher W Herbert (a New Zealand Poet)
a poet who cares
thanks for the inspiration - because if I had not visited this thread
the above works would have never been composed | |
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| Thank you
Posted: 11/12/2005 3:51:42 AM | Thank you for the gracious welcome
Thank you for the arousing poem
Thank you for the sweet gratitude
Thank you for making me feel right @ home. 
11/12/05
Super-sized hugs,
D  | |
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| Thank you
Posted: 11/12/2005 5:20:43 PM | Howdy all. Been a busy little day here in Saskabush. Breathing and I have been touring the town, buying stuff, eating stuff and ignoring more stuff than can be ignored in a lifetime. It is fun.
Pickles...thank you for your words. They are as graceful as their creator. Yesterday was a day to reflect and remember -- in so many ways, each so personal.
Rory...short, sharp and moves well under the skin. You always know the words, man. Thanks, eh?
Poet...welcome to the Barn. And you're welcome for the inspiration -- it's free. Take what you wish and seed it where it seems fit. The Barn is pretty fertile with all that goat shit about, huh? There are others supplying some very good words too, but thank you for your words and your poem.
Diamond...you're welcome, you're welcome and you're welcome some more. The barn door's always open.
Heh heh...I wanted to add: "If you know what I mean" after that...heh heh...
Argh...anyhoo...what do I have for a poem? Lessee....
====================
Gimmie a Break -- It's an Early Morning
Gerfading ook merk fwee
Is the greeting I give to thee
Unkferk gak okai
I make these noises and you ask why?
Derfziggle unkali kvetch
I like to speak when I stretch
======================
Those were the sounds I was making this morning at 8:00 AM. Ask Breathing, she'll tell ya...right? Eh? Wot? Where ya at?
She's here somewheres...I knows it.
Alrighty...be ready for the sermon tomorrow. Hugs and handshakes. G'night! | |
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| Thank you
Posted: 11/13/2005 8:40:49 AM | Good morning all. Breathing was around here, but not around the Barn. The poem half-stuck on the page for her. She'll get 'er done sometime today, ah reckon.
As for me and us --- it's sermon time. Beat that tambourine and play that two-stringed fiddle and hah-wake up the spuh-hirits-ah! Or at least the neighbors...
Ready?
=================================
Psalm 197 – The Book of Goat
Thy Lard hath learned some terrible news
Yes, it’s best if thy sitteth down for This One:
The meek shall not inherit the earth
It was a little thing someone tossed in
So the masses can be kept in line
By priests, emperors, landlords
And the like
To boss people around with greater efficiency
A heartbreak, to be sure
And Thy Lard understands your confusion
At least this gives thee the reason to not
Be pushed around by some
Loud-mouthed a***hole
Just because you believe that if you are
Nice
And
Kind
To everyone (and those who don’t deserve it)
That thee will receive thy reward in the afterlife
Thy Lard sayeth it is bunk
Crap, in fact
Also
(Yes, there is more)
Tinfoil hats do not work
To defy the CIA’s mind control rays ™
Some bored graduate students at MIT
Discovered the foil amplifies signals
And does not block them
So, throw away your tinfoil hats
Be honest and direct
Draw your lines but do not dare others to cross
And when thee are tired of being walked upon
Simply stand up
Amen
================================
There's a linky for that MIT "study", too:
http://people.csail.mit.edu/rahimi/helmet/
Inspiring and informative, huh? Like sitting on a cold crescent wrench. Alrighty...be good and I'll be back tomorrow after work n' stuff. | |
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| Thank you
Posted: 11/13/2005 10:18:39 AM | Good day all ;-) - - I was sidetracked yesterday with life and stuff, but it was such fun. I found my way to the barn; I just followed the scent of Goat farts.
Hello Dimonlady47 - - This barn is a fine place to rest your heart…
Greets to poet from New Zealand - - Tis true: Goat is an inspiration, as are all the other barn yard animals…
Pickles, Queen of the barn yard animals - - Your words ring true!!
Mari_Sam - - Love seeing your words here…
Hey, Rory - - Tis a mild winter here, so far. “Remember” was heard!
Dear Goat - - “The Eleventh Hour, The Eleventh Day, The Eleventh Month” I bow to you ~ ~ You are a man of strength and honour. You delivered thy lard’s sermon with grace.
~~
Redwood doors
Bodies
Worn to the bone
Heavy thick
Tears fall
Gentle leaves
Quiet trees
Hearts opens
Then close
Waiting
Time enters
Patience flows
Youth the cost
Remembrance
Of years
Lived
Then lost
Quiet recollections
Freedoms won
Innocence lost
Across the threshold
~~
Well it is off to tackle the day, and the Goat...See you all later on | |
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| Thank you
Posted: 11/13/2005 2:58:51 PM | thank you Goat and breathing for your kind words
which makes me think about either posting a poem about animals
or one with your home province in the title - so I will try these first
and maybe find the provincial one later
1274
Bourne Again
11 May 2001
Deep within the forest
a possum does stir
Wearing a racing suit
in place of natural fur
His real name
known to a few
This rally driver in the midst
of his Subaru stew
Impreza by breed
and impressive by reputation
The type of person
to lead the delegation
Born as if the drive
but known for his nocturnal habit
To see New Zealand’s
Possum Borne go faster than a rabbit
"And I say unto thee, That thou art Peter, . . ."
Matthew 16: 18 KJV
Rally ace, Possum Bourne who died at the age of 47 was “the most successful rally driver New Zealand has produced”. A seven-times Australian Rally Championship, and had won the FIA Asia Pacific title, three times. Just another New Zealander who had succeeded across the Tasman Sea, in Australia. A place some have said is almost as if New Zealand and Australia truly belong together as a southern continent. More so when jointly both nations of Australia and New Zealand are referred to as “Australasia” [a legendary southern continent].
Although successful as being the first New Zealander to finish the Rally of New Zealand - Bourne never had the full backing of the World Rally Cars to win this even which was incorporated as a round of the World Rally Championship series.
3034
Peter Who?
07 September 2003
Peter who?
They’d say
Because as far as
many were concerned
he was ‘Possum’
night and day
This nickname
in pseudonym of an event
Of a fair man heaven sent
Gone to teach the way of
negotiating a ‘slippy’ turn in style
Sadly he’d be missed
for more than a while
A possum born to wear
that of an Australian name
For after all it was in the
Aussie rally championship
Possum Bourne had
gained his fur in fame
A possum is a furry, nocturnal marsupial, and in this case, a native of Australia. The “Brushtail Possum” (Trichosurus vulpecula) was released in New Zealand in 1858, with the aim of starting a fur trade. However due to the destruction this animal causes to vegetation, unlike in Australia where the possum is a protected species. In New Zealand it is classified as a Noxious Animal, and is hunted for its fur, and poisoned with hopes of control and eradication. When even with the culling of the possum in New Zealand going on for many years they continue to devastate orchards, forests and gardens. More akin to their New Zealand enviroment than in the country of origin [Australia] where steps of protection prohibit their endangering [No relation to the American opossum].
2750
Bourne in Memory
07 May 2003
On a night as dark
as any that do come
A universe was encountered
on the path to a future sum
For a pestilent marsupial
in New Zealand introduced
Where in an Australian homeland
protection was induced
There was a road side meeting
between a young man and furry beast
His aim being to avoid this
union to the least
Only accidently his car
headed through the air
Later to gain the nickname
of “Possum” borne in memory
of an outcome perhaps not fair
The story of how Possum (Peter) Bourne came to be known as ‘Possum’ was a tale that had at the time of his 2003 road accident and hospital stay been told in several versions. This is just one of them:
As a 15 year-old Peter Bourne was driving to [or home] from the local Polytechnic [technical collage] where he was attending night classes. The car he was driving [a Humber 80] was purchased with his mother’s help to allow Peter to attend to his studies. When in the darkness of the night Peter encountered a possum on the roadway, being a night feeding creature this was a common sight not always but more particularly on New Zealand rural roads. The brushtail possum may have been classed as a protected species in Australia, where its origins were - however in New Zealand it was open season all year round where conditions were the opposite.
For Peter Bourne his action in attempting to avoid the possum he encountered that night, resulted in extensive damage to the car and a nickname that was to be with Possum Bourne for the rest of his life. When even the nature of his true Christian name of Peter became the mystery.
© Christopher W Herbert (a New Zealand Poet)
a poet who cares
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longte
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Joined: 10/18/2004
Msg: 2447 | |
| Thank you
Posted: 11/13/2005 5:34:37 PM | Hi Barn people
Just dropping by after trying to sell a fridge
What's that funny smell in the fridge?
Been away travelling, had a lot of fun
Doing idle things like lying in the sun
Came home to an odour, something slightly rich
Seems likely that the smell, was oozing from the fridge
Have you ever opened up a door, to scent that can been seen
Perhaps it was the furry mess slightly tinged with green
Eyes begin to water, nostril hair is curled
Smell begins to penetrate as more bits are unfurled
Milk had turned to yoghurt, curdled mess in there
But was not a milky stink that permeates the air
AHa I think I found it, oozing putrid slime
What it was originally does not come to mind
Wrapped it carefully in a bag, tossed it in the bin
Now no longer choking but wear a silly grin
Open the fridge, stink still there, maybe its even worse
Like a mouldy corpse in some forgotten hearse
Shrimp are quite delicious when they are really fresh
Leave them for a week or two, then you'll see a mess
Sign is placed outside, "Lovely Fridge For Sale"
How they get the stink out is another tale
Enjoy your dinner everyone
..
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 11/14/2005 12:07:46 PM | Ha ha, longte. OK, winding this up, just a few more, har.
============================================
Hallowe'en's mushy pumpkin
awaiting a red fix
to show off and split like a watermelon. | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 11/14/2005 6:02:56 PM | Howdy all...another post and run night from me. Greets to Poet and thank you for the trilogy of possuminity. A big ol' howdy-do to Longte...good to see you again and an excellent poem followed you as well...one close to my heart: Fridge rot. Hi to Rory and that pumpkin keeps rotting along, gracefully like a turd. Love it.
As for me...something non-creative:
==============================
Grunt!
Forcing a poem
Is much like forcing a fart
You don’t know what
You’ll get
But let it rip
Anyway
And stand clear
Of open flame
=========================
Special greets to Breathing-dear. She's wandering to her computer right now, I think. We may see something from her pretty soon.
But I am gone for the night. G'night! | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 11/15/2005 5:06:59 AM | good morning everyone....
I know it's been awhile since I graced the barn doors, been busy with the holidays coming up....grrrr that's awful I can't believe how fast the years fly as you get older.....shhhhh I didn't say I was getting older...nope nope...lol
I hope everyone is well, it is snowing here today....arggggg...snow....gotta dig my boots out before I go anywhere today...
Been trying to write some childrens books, sometimes they come out okay but other times...well you know how it is...I wrote this the other day...thought I would share with you guys...not your normal cup of tea, but it's from me....
Hey a poet and I didn't know it...lol...oh man to early ..
Take care
The Boat Ride
The sun was shining the sky was blue
Tyler and mommy knew just what to do
Away they went as they grabbed their coats
Down to the marina for a ride in the boat
Grab your life jacket and put it on
Got to be safe to have some fun
Check the boat making sure its okay
Start the engine be on our way
Going fast the waves are high
Sometimes it feels we are about to fly
This is so much fun Tyler squeals
Okay says mommy your turn at the wheel
Grab the wheel and watch where you go
It’s not a race so take it slow
Your doing great very good so far
What a little sailor you are
Let’s explore the shore see what’s there
And enjoy the wind blowing in our hair
Find a spot for a picnic lunch
See those wildflowers I would like a bunch
Sun is setting its time to go
Onto the boat head for home
Dock the boat ready for the night
Look at the sun set what a sight
Thank you says Tyler for the great day
I had so much fun playing on the waves
I did to hugging him said his mom
With you I always have so much fun
Miz
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