| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 3/20/2008 5:28:41 AM | a broken soul with nothing to eat
don't make judgement before you greet
not everything is what it seems
i often here this is my dreams....
and for myself i must make amends
i have created a poetic sin..
stanzas do indeed rhyme
please forgive me of my crime!
;0) | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 3/20/2008 6:55:28 AM | please forgive me of my crime!
Lyrics where are you? Come back home it's time!
Missing your humour and your good hosting ways
missing your rythms and witty word plays
When order is maligned and chaos comes in
snarky remarks and uptight problems
become the way that the new game is played
I know that is not the intention you made. | |
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Render
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Joined: 4/18/2007
Msg: 3828 | |
| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 3/20/2008 7:58:30 AM | I know that is not the intention you made
These rhythms and rhymes seem carved in jade
Finely chiselled, as though with a blade
Created from fire, magic in-laid
Power courses through them, these words profound
Minds affected, imaginations abound
Creativity is stretched, forced, pushed and bound
This is the strength, spread it around | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 3/20/2008 9:20:48 AM | This is the strength, spread it around
Bouncing flowers coming through the ground
Sunlight casting a spark
Moonlit pathways from the dark
dreams abound in the spring of the art
modern in fashion playing a fraction
keeping your own beat in your fashion
I always tap, tap my feet, when I hear you breathe | |
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mmmmmy
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Joined: 2/11/2008
Msg: 3830 | |
| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 3/20/2008 9:43:25 AM | I always tap, tap my feet, when I hear you breathe
Because that means you are here and near
like the moment , lost in fear
Hearts are cautious at my age my dear!
Once I followed you to a place
wondering what you were into
Amazed, you were simply meeting a friend
My heart was glad, for your help you lend! | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 3/20/2008 9:48:21 AM | My heart was glad, for your help you lend!
the words you use my spark you tend
doesn’t matter to me if they dance in rhyme
what matters is they speak to my mind
come set me free let your words flow
its emotions and stories I want to know
take me to places where I’ve never been
remind me to feel the emotions I’ve seen | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 3/20/2008 10:13:25 AM | remind me to feel the emotions I’ve seen
in a rainbow of colour eminating from green
purple high thoughts in the stars they eplode
down into indigo dreams that implode
expanding outward right out of the blue
where yellow meets up with the feelings of you
Orange explosions of passion and desire
bursting with red that take us ever higher | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 3/20/2008 10:41:57 AM | Moon dripped Sun-Sparks
bursting with red that takes us even higher
clipped by the sun-sparks dazzle sky with fire
new moon tips and rocks hanging on a wire
waxing like a candle that grows slowly to empire
wicked and torched by hands of universal glove
as below so goes the show up and beyond above
dripping wax melts into flame bursting into flame
clipped by sun-sparks dazzle sky with a brilliant flame
maybe shoulda called the flame guards...LOL | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 3/20/2008 12:39:31 PM | Maybe shoulda called the flame guards... LOL
I thought my prose was so good I shouted so proud
of waxing candles, sparks, moon tips and high wired empires
I was remiss in realizing universal gloves start the true fires
I've nothing to do with what comes from within
I'm but a conduit, a walking vessel that reflects
What my eyes see, heart feels or my mind deflects
As I wonder why in the world so many cannot write
Removing the power of loving, your brilliance is your right | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 3/20/2008 1:17:40 PM |
Removing the power of loving, your brilliance is your right
Adding sentiment is darling, and puts you in good light
Venomous is hideous and demonic, mind at play
The effervescent drink of romance is where I have my way
Rolling up my stockings to thighs stepped fresh of field
Making dreams of honey and bees a buzz of yeild
My skin as soft as velvet and my hands of pure intent
Are peachy when I attend them and due--pay them of their' rent...
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 3/20/2008 2:07:22 PM | Are peachy when I attend them and due--pay them of 'their' rent...
I roll up their stockings and show them my intent
The women of red light districts are often misunderstood
They amuse themselves with mirrors held up by the druid
To be free of frozen minds and boxed games
The shaded rooms are dimly lit by red frames
They don't use emoticons to display their true inner buzz
There is nothing romantic when getting beaten by the fuzz | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 3/20/2008 6:30:30 PM | There is nothing romantic when getting beaten by the fuzz
Trying to lay naked on the sandy beaches
Those of like kind always run
Back into the darkness once striken by sun
Back into the cold, stark dimly lit rooms
Gladdened only by their memories of long gone shrooms
Raise your voice, let the written word grow
Sing sweet the music, ebb and flow | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 3/20/2008 6:37:05 PM | Sing sweet the music, ebb and flow
To the forceps baby in the tiny bungalow
Cries of his mother while laying in bed
The doc pulls the kid slowly out by the head
Mr. Doc is dad or is he Uncle Sam?
Hello Iraq, we're green eggs and Vietnam
George W, George W drink with your tight fist
As you grow, you've a world to ruin and twist | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 3/20/2008 6:44:06 PM | As you grow, you've a world to ruin and twist
Guitars humming softly in the candle light
Rhyming couplets that are forced to sit
Devoid of feelings and copious height
Locked into rhythm the soul is caged
Unable to complete a diaphanous word
So sing sweet music, ebb and flow
Speak freely on the pathway of the absurd. | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 3/20/2008 6:47:35 PM | you've a world to ruin and twist and shout about
but you don't, you RAVE about the good samaritans of the land
you prolly eat puddin in the mornin cause your place is in high demand
sucka for punishment your stature is talkin loud and iffin it ain't about justice
--gods' kind . Your defence is gettin loud ...("my fellow americans ... Iraq ... blah blah blah ... china ... blah ...blah )...
If ya just kept religion out of it . Be who you really were I may become a republican . But you happen to be ... a .... WERE. | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 3/20/2008 6:49:02 PM | Speak freely on the pathway of the absurd.
The fool card is the very first word
heyoka spirit, the backwards clown
Son of wands, life upside down
spin the promises, find whats meant
under the guises find true intent
The currents run under the skin of the truth
Witness whats left for the world of our youth | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 3/20/2008 6:54:29 PM | Witness whats left for the world of our youth
seems everything is left to them
including detention just for sayin the things he/she ... finds uncouth
isn't that a freedom? isn't that all/a right?
parents bicker kids feel left out
placing them in retreats
while the honestys left out
what the hell... is this kinda enlightenment? | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 3/20/2008 6:56:57 PM | What the hell...is this kinda enlightenment?
Drawers of memories in paper disarray
Articles of propaganda shrilling the untruth
Of a world that has its head in the clay
Undaunted we see the edges curl
Yellow with age the writing is old
The world has caught up to the gratuitous pearl
The generation of believers whose birthright sold. | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 3/20/2008 7:07:10 PM | The generation of believers whos' birthright sold
getting caught in the cold ... War and ALL
it seemed the world had to reshuffle
and make out up from down
the generation of love, an era deserted ... 'they' ... deserted ... as a clown
--well
laughs are hard to fathom with the world in such dis-array
But I Believe It's Up To Us To Say The Things we Need to Say | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 3/20/2008 7:10:59 PM | but i believe it's up to us to say the things we need to say
you are soooo right, the generation of love had lost their way
no support for their elders to make the change last
but hopefully all that bullshit is a thing of the past
the awareness now is heightened more than ever before
more than i can remember and that is several scores
our mother is soooo hurtin' and is in so much pain
hopefully we can come together and save her again | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 3/20/2008 7:20:18 PM | hopefully we can come together and save her again
warm her meadows with the sun and sooth her with sweet rain
play our drums again upon her fields and forest ways
dance our feet upon the earth and love her all our days
Plant new trees and flowers too and let the tall grass grow
Clean the lakes and river till they sleep in pristine snow
awaken springtime once renewed and blossom forth our love
trickle down our hopes and dreams from once new stars above
too slow again, man you are fast Crystal!!!
hope to think I'm leaving a heirachic hell
where corporations pave the way for the desperate groundswell
belieing all our promises we wear our greed for more
plastered in the shopping malls we staggered and we swore
we'd never sell out our principals but we do love a good deal
rather buy from somewhere else, but China cost's a steal
Never mind we didn't know, at least we may forget
lets not hear the cries of monks being tortured in Tibet
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 3/20/2008 7:25:26 PM |
trickle down our hopes and dreams from once new stars above
with sheltered gloves of love and hope and help when needed too
that would alieve the crying and the what not in beirut
though love it is an animal and finds survival harsh
so when we free ourselves of attitude that grows in darkened marsh
we must ...
(I'm sorry for ranting on tonight)
But HONESTY is only the thing i want ... forever and a night
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 3/20/2008 7:31:04 PM | (sorry too slow)
trickle down our hopes and dreams from once new stars above
have travelled on the cusp of the milky way of love
sprinkled moondust in your eyes and sent you sliding down
the intricate labyrinth of her silver tipped gown
the lady moonchild on her journey across the skies
a sliver an etching of delightful disguise
she dawns her mask with black velvet hue
her dancing eyes remain to see the journey through. | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 3/20/2008 7:45:13 PM | her dancing eyes remain
to see the journey through
her long-fed lies enslave
bringing me back to you
the truths we told so long ago
those days are so far past
your words whispered, your tone too low
now the question can never be asked | |
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