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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 11/15/2005 2:38:53 PM | Page 99....wow....am not sure what it is about 99 but it always seems such a special number....almost one hundred...but just not quite....things seem cheaper when you say they are 4.99 instead of 5.00 but in reality with tax it will cost more than 5 dollars..it just the idea of 99..... then 99 it is the last year before a next century.... a person lives to be 99 and they are really old...but they live to be one hundred and they can collect on their life insurance while they are still alive.....
funny number that 99....
sorry I guess I got a bit off topic...just seeing that number....it affected me.. :-)
cold air is coming...the weather so lovely...so nice and warm...lulling you into a tranquil lazy feeling....security that comes with a wonderful warm fall.... thinking that there won't be any winter...that you can wear shorts all year round...but it is not to be...the weather man says it will be cold tonight...maybe even down to 40....of course I don't believe him...
the sound of jeans swishing.... shoes sqeaking...childrens laughter...giggles....
skipping...running...nary a one....walking.....
sun shining....rays reflecting off the waxy leaves....flowers blooming...
traveling ever so rapidly to get to the place to listen to the music...
music from 1900 written after the
"Great Storm"...the sound of music telling a story..no words...just feeling shared through
the keys....
children moving to the music...eyes closed...imaginations spinning.... just how wonderful it would have been to sit in the music room over a hundred years ago...listen to the music and picture the story it tells..... | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 11/15/2005 6:08:59 PM | Hiya all. Hello to Miz and Sukari...good to see you both here in the barn. And, yes, it is page 99. I thought Admin woulda shut me down well before I got this far. Crazy things in this ol' world and nothing turns out like you think it might.
Miz...a lovely poem and it makes me wish I could be boating too. It was too icky, crappy cold here to do any of that today. I just settled for a bike ride to work and was able to get things done once my fingers thawed out. Excellent poem, m'dear. Thanks.
Sukari...good to see you again. Yup, here we are at page 99. I knew this barn when it was only a page old and now it's all growed up and into the triple digits pretty soon. Love your words -- descriptively swirling they are. I have never heard the piece you mentioned, though I have heard of it. I'll have to do some searching for it. It is good to see you in the barn again, my friend. Don't be a stranger here.
As for me? Well, I was inspired by a -25C windchill that really put a snap in my shorts:
=======================
Attuned to Summer
Here we are, trapped and helpless
Under an arctic-fed high pressure ridge
Why did the warmth leave us?
We wonder as we keep warm in the fridge
When did we become such panties?
And wishing it could warm up a smidge
It’s only –18 degrees centigrade outside
But it feels like it could freeze the nuts off a bridge
==============================
But it was only -18C without the wind...brrr...winter just said howdy-do to us Toon Towners. There'll be a few more months of this and then it'll be green and purty agan...but it won't stop me from biking -- I think.
G'night ya'll...see you tomorrow! | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 11/15/2005 6:14:45 PM | Hello to all who wander through these barn doors------
Greets to you, Longte - - Such vivid imagery in your words…..
Poet - - Greetings to you and your possum poems
A mighty hello to ya, Miz – Your words are lyrical
Sukari, a warm greeting your way - -Winter has hit here, a crisp –20c and fresh snow. You bring the music to life with your words.
Rory - - The pumpkin lives on!
Sweet goat - - A hug to you -- You and the barn inspire many, you will be around for a long time .
~~
Time sleeps
Quietly
Inside the stillness of leaves
A drop of dew
Travels in silence
Waking in the warmth
Of winter’s hands
~~
Night all........... | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 11/16/2005 11:29:38 AM | 2635
Saskatchewan Blues
31 March 2003
Rachel the
love of his life
Just one who’d
become Jacob’s wife
The mother of two sons
said to be favourites
of technicolour dreams
Enveloped in a cloak
divided by Canadian extremes
The Pacific Ocean a vastness
within the darkness of a void
Unable to discuss such a reaction
with a man like Freud
Awake or asleep
forward in time
Reading works of
Genesis chapter
Twenty Nine
“And . . . behold, Rachel . . . cometh with the sheep.
And it came to pass, when Jacob saw Rachel the daughter
of Laban his mother’s brother [Rebekah], and the sheep
of Laban his mother’s brother, that Jacob went near
[the well], and rolled the stone from the well’s mouth,
and watered the flock of Laban his mother’s brother.”
Genesis 29: 6, 10 KJV
[words in brackets added]
© Christopher W Herbert (a New Zealand Poet)
a poet who cares
I hope you do not mind my scripture quotes
because in the case of the above works - it comes as a package | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 11/16/2005 3:46:07 PM | Last of the pumpkin saga: 28 of 28. All sordid things must come to an end.
=========================================================
Hallowe'en's mushy pumpkin
draped by flags mauve and white,
wind stirring it like a heaped chasuble. | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 11/16/2005 6:24:40 PM | Hello all...good to see you here. This'll be a post n run night for me. My little eyes are tired big-big. But first:
Hello Poet...that's one of the few poems I've read that was about Saskatchewan. I would have written one myself, but I don't know what rhymes with Saskatchewan. Nah, I don't mind the scipture quotes -- as long as you don't mind my weekly sermons.
Ah, Rory...the pumpkin dies at last. Mushy. Alone. Soft. 'Twas a good run while it lasted.
Of course, hello to that Breathing-gal. You are quite a writer you know and you make the best cup of Earl Grey I have ever had. Thanks.
Me? Something little:
============================
Cracked Prairie Oysters
Testicles don’t hang
All that well in November
Berries tend to freeze
==========================
I'm going to have my cup o tea and slink away into the night. G'night! | |
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Daeryn
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Joined: 3/1/2005
Msg: 2457 | |
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Daeryn
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Joined: 3/1/2005
Msg: 2458 | |
| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 11/16/2005 6:44:08 PM | ...lol...I heard you say you were getting older
that time flies by,
you know
an ageless widow is the flow of time
that rusts good steel
and warps the mind.
A murderess clothed indifferently,
she steals away all life;
yet she brings to all expectancy...
We all await sometimes.
I really enjoyed what you wrote. | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 11/16/2005 7:03:11 PM | Good evening all - -
Winter takes hold here in Saskabush. I actually missed the cold winters!
Poet- - A Saskwitchyouwan poem….Tis a great little place, this prairie land
Rory - - The ole’ pumpkin had it’s day… Long live the pumpkin
Dearest Goat - - Thank you for such kind words, you are sweet ;-) Your writes are always consistent; filled with wit, strength and heart …Your words, always an inspiration…
You’re welcome fer the tea, me’ love …
~~
Dawn
The mind
Wakes
Blurred
Then takes
Focus
Eyes
Turn to a winter sunrise
Words
Lost in the wind
With each rotation of the wheel
The heart
Rests
The soul
Centered
In silence
~~
I'm off to join the goat- - If ya know what I mean
Night all....... | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 11/16/2005 7:13:28 PM | amazing...the way the masts reaches for the sky...
a real sky scraper..it is where the word came from...
the tall ships with their sails scraping the sky....
built in 1877.... to carry goods from country to country....
a tall ship....
now a national historic treasure...
built in Aberdeen...Scotland... to journey many times all around the world
visiting only twice in her working life...the port to become her home...
a crows nest...where the birds are kept...in case you get lost..you release them to show you the way to land.....
he had you over a barrel?
yeh I know...you almost drowned and he was rolling a barrel under your body to get all the water out...
a golden coin beneath east of those giant mast poles....for good luck..to appease the Gods...
the coast is clear....yes she worked as a smuggler for bit...of ciggarettes in the european countries...
now she has been refitted...rebuilt ....even better than before....the oldest tall ship at the rededication of the stature of liberty....
make sure step with your right foot first onto the gangway.... otherwise it will be bad luck.... an unsafe journey....
there are no ropes on a ship...well one rope maybe...the one attached to the bell to ring the bell...
the rest...all those things you say look like rope.....well they are lines...each with its own specific name and job...and to work the ship you must know each..the language of the tall ship... | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 11/17/2005 5:43:42 PM | Hi, sukari ! Brrr, the Barn's getting a little chilly. Time to throw another presto log on the grill.
=====================================================================
THE BRIDGE
Headlights sail over the black bridge
like electric swallows stuck
to the seal-slick slashed-rain pavement.
Curving like lovers turning away in
a sexual denouement, the dull cars
are hit repeatedly, rain popping
like blood-gouts exploding internally.
Identical dead lamplight fixed:
overseer rows of envious rectitude
nodding with cosmic menace.
Rain, relentless, presses its imprimatur
over cement earth in indiscriminate swaths.
The gutters run wildly. A gull shrieks,
invisible overhead. The bridge
road, a steel fade, is now empty. | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 11/17/2005 7:03:22 PM | Howdy all...another quickie from me tonight.
First..hello to Sukari...more educationally descriptive words. I learned more from reading your words than any day I spend at work. Thank you, my friend.
And Rory...sans pumpkin and back to your usual excellent poetry. I hate to sully the barn with my ramblings, but a goat's gotta do what a goat's gotta do:
===========================
That’s What I Don’t Like About Tim Horton’s
Double-chinned people in their SUVs
Complaining of individual allergies
They buy their sport shoes and socks
And their drive to work is only six blocks
They groan and whine and wheeze
And smell faintly of overripe cheese
They complain if they have to walk
Who can stand to hear them talk?
===============================
G'night all! See youse guys tomorrow, eh? | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 11/18/2005 3:46:45 PM | BEGINNING OF A WALK
Grey, drear,
the sky sagging into the trees,
leaves that limp to the pavement,
a wind too weak to blow them
onto a neighbour's lawn,
cracking with annoyance under
my feet, broken spines of
old age face down,
a Doberman sniffing bushes
for signs of life. | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 11/18/2005 5:27:33 PM | Howdy all...I am here again. Where else would I be at this time of day? You know it.
Rory! Good to see you here...and that was a masterful poem. So descriptive. It's a keeper.
Also, I read your responses in the "pet peeve" thread here in the poetry forum. Needless to say, it inspired me.
======================
What is a Thread?
This tenuous thing, this thread
That poetry collects along
so much like beads on a blade of grass
In a September sunrise
This thread, this tenuous thing
Only one
Only one is enough
To display the ever-changing faces
The shifting feelings
Of those that add to it
To have separate homes for
Separate feelings
Is a little strange
It’s all home
And all are welcome
Just make sure to
Keep your boots on
=========================
And that's my opinion on the multiple threads thing. The goat sticks pretty much to the barn these days.
I'm drinking a beer and watching Red Green. A redneck night for me. G'night! | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 11/18/2005 5:45:15 PM | Hello …lurkers and barn dwellers alike
Sukari - - Your words somehow remind me of the winters I spent in Corpus Christi…
Daeryn - - Greets to you and your heart, hope to see you around here again...
Rory - - Your words are strong as always…. Glad you hang around this ole’ barn
Da Goat - - I stand in awe of you, your words and the man you are!
~~
Sunrise
The scent of
Water lilies
Dance on Trout Lake
Souls
Wake in the misty morn
Evening calls
A touch of scotch
Upon the shore
Hearts
Tell tales
Of lives lived
Night falls
~~
Well-- A beer and the Goat call....See yous all later ....night | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 11/18/2005 7:56:52 PM | Breathing....Corpus Christi is not so far...and is the home of the life size replica's of christopher columbus' ships...... when I saw..then ...I could not believe how small they had been...not quite what I had envisioned when reading those poems of him sailing the Ocean blue....but hopefully it brought you back good memories....of times in Texas...:-)
morning...the sun trying to rise above to the horizon....to shed new light...
but not quite strong enough...the moon is fighting to retain its height...its power its glory...
lighting the sky above the palm trees...ever waving ...gently moving in the never ceasing winds of the gulf..... a beautiful sight....the tree backlight from the light of the carwash...before it....boldly standing in front of the Police station...out beside the school....
yet if you stand just right...and hold you head at just the right angle.....it is amazing...the palm tree almost as if under spot light...and the tree against the sky...the moon so bright just above...and if you are lucky...there beside her....mars....bright red and shining....in all her glory....
amazing how you can admire the beauty of nature...right in the center of a city.... seeing only nature...and ignoring the buildings...the roads..the vehicles.....the sounds of the sirens....instead...concentrating on the sounds the wind makes...blowing through the trees | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 11/18/2005 8:16:41 PM | Blue wrappers hide
What is inside
Gleaming
Ready to do their calling
O.R. instrument trays
We have ways | |
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longte
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Joined: 10/18/2004
Msg: 2468 | |
| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 11/19/2005 1:50:58 PM | Thought both Rory and Goat would appreciate this
Awesome night
Way too much drink
Overdosed on great music
Black Sambucca bleeding, sensuous into my veins
Of my former coherence, not much now remains
Dancing night of magic, etched into my brain
Music was enthralling, band was loud but good
Drove me to the floor like any good band should
Other were just watching as if they could they would
Felt the music take me, drag me to the dance
It was not a strange thing, was not happenstance
Knew it could encapture me if it had the chance
From early Stones and Beatles, Nirvana, Motley Crew
Mettallicca, Bon Jovi, nothing they couldn't do
So just like a puppet into the dance I flew
Kids young enough to be mine, watched me dance all night
Never matched the rythms that were buried from their sight
maybe Black Sambucca would let them see the light
From 10 in the evening band and I were slaves
Music took control and everything we gave
Until about 4am when dawn light was engraved
Slowly the music faltered, Black Sabbath came last
Was the grand finale, trumpets final blast
In the cool grey light of dawn, nothing is the same
But long a night like this, in memory remains
..
. | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 11/19/2005 5:55:52 PM | Good one, longte, you crazy kid. And in honour of tomorrow's Goatly sermon, a religious preface:
DUST
And their scriptures unravelled
whisking dust off desktop
to settle once again on the cold floor. | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 11/19/2005 6:56:04 PM | I'm with Rory...good one, Longte. You have more energy then than I do tonight, that's for sure.
Hello to Sukari...more excellent words, laden with pure description, from you. Always good to see you here.
Pickles...short and clinical...interesting. Spooky. Hmm....makes me think of those hospital visits. Ergh.
Rory...the sermon is indeed tomorrow. Get ready for it...if you are ready, gewt those rubber boots on and be ready to be splashed with the healing waters. Ayuh.
Breathing...I stand in awe of you, m'dear. You are the poet I admire most.
As for me...just a quickie:
===========================
Fat and Lazy
Bloated and beached
A beer within reach
My butt is parked on the chair
Too lazy to grow any hair
This is what weekends are for
If you don’t know that, there’s the door
==============================
Hm...that sounds a little more blunt than I wanted it to, but Gawd am I lazy. So hard to even breathe...too...much...work...
Sunday tomorrow...be ready...g'night! | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 11/19/2005 7:15:19 PM | 
Thank God, I though it was bad that I've been in this chair all day!!! LOL
Sam | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 11/20/2005 5:48:05 AM | I awoke this morning to the sound of rain falling gently on the roof...
I lay there listening to the drops of water rhymically bouncing off the leaves outside my window...
dripping...branches swaying in the wind....
for a moment I imagined I was awaking in the rainforest...and it was the rainy season...(again)..
I am sure I could smell those heavy humid odors that are only in the rainforest....
a smile on my face....
then suddenly from out of no where...
Tumblena jumped onto the bed...demanding attention...
Min Pins are that way you know...they must have their morning Pettings...
yet despite the disruption of my memories....my day begin with a smile...and memories of long ago..
mornings where it was so hard to dragged yoruself out of bed...lulled back to sleep by the sounds of rain on the thatch | |
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| The Poetry Barn and Eatery
Posted: 11/20/2005 3:35:12 PM | Hello all. Sorry I'm late. Busy day.
Hello to Mari...I'm glad I'm not the only one yesterday. Man, was I lazy. Almost lazy enough to not eat, but then I caught myself soon corrected that.
Hello to Sukari...more wonderful and descriptive words. There is such a texture about what you write...I can hear the rain, feel the heavy limbs. Love it.
As for me...a sermon...a very late sermon and a very short sermon:
=========================
Psalm 57 – The Book of Goat
Blessed be the electric crock pot
For it is divine and simple
Just put the stuff in there to cook
And let ‘er buck
For a few hours
And that’s all Thy Lard has to say about that.
Amen
===========================
Feeding time is at hand. No burnt offerings, just a lotta beer and beef stew. New recipe.
G'night! | |
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| the king you see
Posted: 11/20/2005 9:50:56 PM | Showed us heaven from the flames,
Gave us memories full of pain,
Stole the angels left these scars,
Took our wings left us arms,
Built our houses gave us bombs,
The good book still says were wrong
Dreams gone when we awake,
Give us strength watch us break,
Learn to love its gone again,
Let us sin and blame instead,
Show a path we can’t achieve,
Provide hope when were to weak,
Let them pray while they bleed,
Hear them sing let them believe,
Deliver those who have seen,
Still they think of you a king. | |
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| the king you see
Posted: 11/21/2005 12:16:28 PM | THE FLOCK
Jesus rode into town on his ass.
The disciples stopped as he went past,
Uncomprehending, agape, and aghast;
This ethereal figure had a lass. | |
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