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| If there’s a wrong turn off the highway
Posted: 9/5/2006 2:35:04 PM | If there’s a wrong turn off the highway
I will take it,
and if there’s a mis-step on the way
to your heart, I will make it,
stumbling and tripping, stammering
and backing off to start again.
My only hope is that
your zigs will fit my zags
and as I see you one day with bags
of love from your over-full heart,
parcels too big for your arms
toppling and falling,
you will look back over your shoulder
and notice me calling:
“You! Hey, you!”
J. Newman copyright 2006 | |
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om
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Joined: 5/28/2006
Msg: 28 | |
| If there’s a wrong turn off the highway
Posted: 9/5/2006 7:11:51 PM | | Copy that pickles! Further more, the previous page was a real joy to read! Loved many, especially "odd couples" and "meditation" ! Thanks for sharing them with us! | |
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| FIRST IN LINE
Posted: 9/6/2006 2:44:25 AM | FIRST IN LINE
Take your vibrator and your husband,
hot summer lust, eyes
of a depraved child, and--
Have you looked at your tickets,
for Chrissake? They're marked
"Disorder" and "Misrule." Punch
and counterpunch
will seal you on that train
to nowhere. In the dining-car
they're serving pure poison
at outrageous prices,
and you're first in line.
Slope-necked for punishment and with
your lovely large lips
a little bit parted,
you heard them murmuring in the bar:
"Lunch? it's real poison!"
and you just had to be the first in line.
J. Newman Sudden Proclamations copyright 1992 | |
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| To Om & Pickles
Posted: 9/6/2006 4:25:43 AM | ...No poet writes for him- or herself alone; every poet is a part of his or her audience, a part of the main. If a poem falls on deaf ears, then the poet is the less, as well as if he or she had not felt or written at all...Therefore never send to know for whom the poem was written; it was written for you...
Jer (with help of Johnny Donne) | |
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om
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Joined: 5/28/2006
Msg: 31 | |
| To Om & Pickles
Posted: 9/6/2006 5:57:44 AM | Ah, wise words Jer, now, can I have some lunch..*smiles
I wrote this quick wee one after reading your thread yesterday. Hope you don't mind?
````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````
Jacks Fondness
Jack tried sidling-up to that Gentle Giant
But he just picks him up with his magic fingers
And carries him back to his cell
He knows he can fit through the bars
After all
He is a Gentle Giant
``````````````````````````````````````````
gee, now I want to work it more..aint that the way eh..*shruges
oh well, there it goooooooos | |
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| To Om
Posted: 9/6/2006 6:06:48 AM |
I wrote this quick wee one after reading your thread yesterday. Hope you don't mind?
Why would I mind, Dude? And yes, do work it some more if you feel like it. In fact, you don't get ANY LUNCH until you post some more of it...
Jer | |
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| Lust
Posted: 9/6/2006 8:26:07 AM | Last night you were my lover
Tonight will I still
Meet the other
Or shall I just remember
I crave you
But cannot contemplate
Separation
From him
Sefishly I procrastinate
Yet I feel strangely sated
By myself
Perhaps I do not need
Either of you | |
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| Lust
Posted: 9/6/2006 9:06:47 AM |
Last night you were my lover
Tonight will I still
Meet the other
Or shall I just remember
And I was yours
but had I known
that only part of you was there
I’d have held back...
I crave you
But cannot contemplate
Separation
From him
I don’t want
to be craved, my love,
which is so different
from being loved.
Sefishly I procrastinate
Yet I feel strangely sated
By myself
Perhaps I do not need
Either of you
No, you don’t need either
of us, for we are not the satisfaction
of a need, but we are souls
who want,
but do not need,
to be in love with other souls. | |
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| Homilies
Posted: 9/6/2006 11:58:01 AM | If you criticize me,
will I not come back
twice as strong as I was before?
But if you praise me
before my growing is complete
I will be forever what I am
and nothing more.
J. Newman © 2006
~~~~~~~
ECONOMY
An iron economy governs us all.
You, who measure each cent,
will have nothing but money in the end.
While you, who are outwardly profligate
--who spend and spend: money and time
and love--and count nothing lost,
will have hearts that are in balance,
and joy without cost.
J. Newman Sudden Proclamations © 1992
* | |
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| Homilies
Posted: 9/6/2006 7:33:58 PM | Isn't profligate a wonderful word.......
I was once described as a "Profligate spendthrift" a moniker I still talk about with pride!!!!!
As the level declines
In my bottle of wine
So my apathy grows
Proportionately
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| Who Is Minding the Store?
Posted: 9/7/2006 3:34:41 AM | The Irish are Killing the Irish
The Irish are killing the Irish.
The Arabs are killing the Jews,
who are killing them back, and more.
--But who is minding the store?
The rich are clearing their tables
in order to lay out more.
The others are far from their door.
--But who is minding the store?
The congregants, thick in their temples,
are praying to God, as before
and before and before.
--And nobody’s minding the store.
J. Newman copyright 2003 | |
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| Homilies
Posted: 9/7/2006 3:41:48 AM |
As the level declines
In my bottle of wine
So my apathy grows
Proportionately
As the level declines
In your bottle of wine
So my chances improve
Of uncorking you!
You like "profligate," do you? How about "mellifluous"? or "Stygian"? | |
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| Curious about your interpretation
Posted: 9/7/2006 9:58:19 AM | I Wish Aunt Emily Were Back at Home
I wish Aunt Emily were back at home.
She went away about a month ago.
She said she'd phone.
She never did.
I guess that where she went
There aren't many phones.
I know she's not afraid
To be alone.
She's an adventurer.
She's very tall.
She's my favourite aunt.
I wish she'd call.
That's all.
J. Newman copyright 1995
1) What do you sense about the speaker of this?
2) Where is Aunt Emily or why hasn't she called? | |
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| Curious about your interpretation
Posted: 9/7/2006 2:55:44 PM | Jerome left home one morning
Umbrella furled in anticipation of
Forecast precipitation
That was it.
He's vanished, disappeared.
Quite wierd really.
Loved the Aunt Emily poem...
I guess she met a pygmy
Who liked tall adventuresome women
Became his lover
What other
Explanation could there be?
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| Sour pickles...
Posted: 9/7/2006 3:42:11 PM | VIXEN! Spawn of hell! You dare to mock me? In fact, if ever I do give you the story behind this poem, I trust you will crawl back into your Stygian cave and go back to making your voodoo dolls!
Nonetheless I loved your Jerome poem! | |
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| BEYOND THESE PAROXYSMS
Posted: 9/7/2006 3:43:24 PM | Beyond these paroxysms, of grief
or envy, is the rule of love
in an unruly heart: the world in rage
beyond the house, and somewhere, past that,
a model of peace as steep as a dream.
Trees leap in place against the placid mountains,
the sky is fixed to itself, and the sea
is like the opening of one of those suites
by Bach, that tell us:
'Peace is more troubled
than you know. Love
is just the prelude to loving,
and what you know best
is what you are always
just about to forget...'
Everything is immersed
and unmerged: single, serial and simultaneous.
A solitary line wanders the universe,
conversing with itself,
mischievous, contemplative:
Passionately unaware of being overheard.
J. Newman Sudden Proclamations copyright 1992 | |
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| Ray!
Posted: 9/7/2006 3:50:45 PM | No, I certainly don't mind you posting something hereespecially when I think it's the best one of yours I read. I'm not always fond of your (and other people's) rhyming ones because too often there's a self-conscious straining or a rhyme that's predictable, but this poem of yours seemsto me to have been written with great freedom and more spontaneity.
I will look for others by you. In the meantime, here's a favourite of mine by somebody else:
All of creation is offended by this distress.
It is like the keening sound the moon makes sometimes,
rising. The lovers especially cannot bear it,
it fills them with unspeakable sadness, so that
they close their eyes again and hold each other, each
feeling the mortal singularity of the body
they have enchanted out of death for an hour or so,
and one day, running at sunset, the woman says to the man,
I woke up feeling so sad this morning because I realized
that you could not, as much as I love you,
dear heart, cure my loneliness,
wherewith she touched his cheek to reassure him
that she did not mean to hurt him with this truth.
And the man is not hurt exactly,
he understands that life has limits, that people
die young, fail at love,
fail of their ambitions.
Robert Hass, excerpt from "Privilege of Being," from Human Wishes
Best wishes, Jer | |
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| Curious about your interpretation
Posted: 9/7/2006 3:52:12 PM | Darkness comes quickly
Suburban sleep patterns dictate
Early to bed
Twilight blends rapidly into the night
When you live in the Styx
Muah Jer...... | |
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| Curious about your interpretation
Posted: 9/7/2006 4:12:50 PM | There's an Autumn fair in Scarborough
With free toffee apples and a mystic
You can guess the weight of a pig
'Though I think this is a swizz
'Cos the farmers son always wins.
My aunty's lemon curd pie
Always gets the ribbon
But this year
There is fierce competition
In the form of Betty Ridley
You know ...she moved here from Barnsley
My aunty thinks she uses store bought
Which may be true.
Mums Chrysanths are bloomin'
Bloomin' glorious
I think she has enough
Of an edge to win, but
Ivor Johnson...he's been feeding his
Something
THATS NOT QUITE RIGHT
Seems like overnight they grew
HUGE
I'm Morris dancing..and I know some silly prats
Think we are nuts dancing with bells on
Hankies waving too
But they are so..you know
well..prattish
I like the band at night
This year they finally got it right
Hired Eddie
His band is bloody..great
'Course I fancy the drummer something rotten
But don't tell Pauline ...OK ?
So see you there right?
Friday night
If you wear the dress with the seethrough top
I'll wear mine
(Well as long as me dad's not there) | |
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| Ray!
Posted: 9/7/2006 5:15:44 PM | | Bloody right it's better! It's VERY good... but I would drop the last line because it's too literal. I mean, it says what it says but with neither drama nor music - and the line before it says it with more pathos. The line before it would make a fine ending, I think. | |
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| Why, you rotten stinker!
Posted: 9/7/2006 5:37:21 PM | You turn around, just after I told you off and you post this effing good poem! Hell hath no fury...
This is SO GOOD and the funny thing is that you didn't actually know it!
Keep this up and you're likely to get published!  Then where'll you be? 
Jer XO | |
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| Why, you rotten stinker!
Posted: 9/7/2006 6:20:17 PM | | Did I tell you I have been accepted at the Arts and Letters Club...just waiting...and no they are not all a bloody bunch of syncophants! | |
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| where will you be?
Posted: 9/7/2006 6:32:03 PM | Stuck in a book in a dusty store? 
Oh I much prefer the moon my love
As you sweep me out the door
To trawl for silvry fishes on a moonbeam as my boat
To dance with golden unicorns and chase them through the stars
And back to land in puddings bowl
Be swept up by the spoon of Groth
And eaten
Slippery slide!
As down I go, sweet juices greet my feet as they arrive
And then becoming nothing
Out the other end I slide
I nurture natures mushroom
Spring to life and then once more
I ride the backs of moonlit tracks
And hurry to the shore
To me its just having FUN | |
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| where will you be?
Posted: 9/7/2006 7:58:28 PM |
Stuck in a book in a dusty store?
Oh I much prefer the moon my love
As you sweep me out the door
Love that salty...really conjures an image...or two | |
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