| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 3/31/2008 12:01:53 AM | oops made an error
Maked the memories disolve in angst
With nonsensical reverbed prangst
When you give a poet something to rhyme
My sistah, please do it on time and spare me a dime
In one line of an eight line stanza
A few peter out on the bonanza
Concentrate, check that gate and lock
Your mind is a gift that you can unblock.. or cock | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 3/31/2008 3:30:55 AM | Your mind is a gift that you can unblock.. or calk
you'll find its alot like the dock or a shock
so full of ideas from who knows where
angelic evil thoughts that take you there
across the gulf of a void in life
discussing stress and troubles and strife
then making up fun just to procrastinate
swinging your bat like a rusty gate | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 3/31/2008 5:32:44 AM | swinging your bat like a rusty gate
creaking loudly in the dark
life and death is our only fate
the choices are sometimes stark
remembering only this moment
is the essence of reality
to cherish each bit with enjoyment
and with a sense of versatility | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 3/31/2008 5:51:11 AM | And with a sense of versatility
His particular first step,
Upon a new sandy warm shore.
Became a most finely honed journey,
Of right foot and right paw.
And when he reached to the new land,
In his floppy crossed hat.
With his Batesian mimicry,
Larger can in his hand.
It was for only one reason,
A one minded pursuit.
For those daft yankie doodles needed a jolly good boot.  | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 3/31/2008 7:24:05 AM | For those daft yankie doodles needed a jolly good boot
when discussing what makes stanzas work, where you're from is moot
The whole idea of this game is musically inclined
write JUST eight lines, right on time and making damned sure it rhymed.
It is a challenge Lyric laid in his own time and place
and many of us gather here to play in Lyrics space
So please be kind, and leave behind a line someone can use
make it sweet and sensual, inspire a playful muse | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 3/31/2008 7:34:15 AM | Make it sweet and sensual, inspire a playful muse
create from your mind a puzzle with words that leave clues
like which came first the chicken or the egg
or what is a dog wanting when with sweet eyes he stands by your leg
where do babies come from is a question a child may ask
questions to prompt a mind I set now to task
does anyone know how out of carpet to get hot wax
now off with coffee in hand I'll go as you ponder to relax.
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 3/31/2008 7:58:33 AM | now off with coffee in hand I'll go as you ponder to relax.
Haven’t had breakfast yet, still nibbling on yummy snacks
Hey, I got germination going on my window sill right now
Remembered when the heads pop up and you wondered how
I’m going “Green” again in the back yard this year
Grow a few vegetables and herbs to have em’ near
Means there will be a little less grass to mow
But I love to sit and watch new things grow | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 3/31/2008 8:08:44 AM | But I love to sit and watch new things grow
this year I am going to try my hand at potatoes
my dad just told me to cut a piece of skin that has eyes
put it in some dirt and it will grow toward blue skies
wonderous it is to see plants come from a tiny seed
then fruit it shall bare so others can feed
or how about those sunflowers that grow up so high
makes me think of that beanstalk that reached the sky
GM eye guy...how goes it? | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 3/31/2008 8:32:09 AM | makes me think of that beanstalk that reached the sky
But the pot of gold is the veggies that you can make into pie
and hows them potatoes? I know a cool way
to grow em, and all it takes is hay that you lay
out on the ground, and cut them taters up on top
eyes out and cover them with more hay, don't stop!
keep em watered and they will grow wonderful spuds
all starting out from old potato buds | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 3/31/2008 8:58:14 AM | All starting out from old potato buds
new growth we will make
for our families
to in hunger partake
best I think to grow your own
from our hands to gentle earth
tender seedlings are sown
or upon gentle winds they are flown. | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 3/31/2008 9:15:56 AM | or upon gentle winds they are flown
So take a flagpole spiked at the end
climb up and start at your - parsons nose
slide down that there pole until it does come
straight and clean out of your mouth
and i'll say to you - a lecturing sod
the pole is your new principle
get off of that pole and try as you might
but remember it might hurt to try
I dont think it has to be done this way
But the principle debate still carries on | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 3/31/2008 9:22:55 AM | but the principle debate still carries on
which rules to challenged when wronged
for the unjust, unfair, unrepresented i am there
but for games and fun i follow rules, beware!!
when something reads 8 stanzas preceded by 'line'
i understand that one, quite fine
and it was gently brought to me
that stanzas rhyme, soon you will see... | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 3/31/2008 9:30:56 AM | that stanzas rhyme, soon you will see...
a third line, a forth line, but what of the second between,
No! i'm not doing second lines no more, hmph,
first lines are better seconds lines are bores, o yes.
And nobody said i had to be able to add up, it not fair sisters.
And i've only got 3 fingers on each hand you know,
its my excuse and im sticking with it, so eight can go blow
God please find my final line | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 3/31/2008 9:35:36 AM | God please find my final line among the lies
and bind me to them with unbreakable ties
the name doesn't know where the insanity ends
so let's play along, be nice little friends
there's a reason for flowing the rhythm and words
someone's out there listening for what's to be heard
there's a lyrical miracle somewhere in the wings
when you write it out baby, oh, how i sing | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 3/31/2008 10:02:59 AM | When you write it out baby, oh, how i sing
I can feel within my heart pitter- pattering
for those words when they come out in sweet rhyme
get to this girl each and every time
so keep saying what you say
in that truly sensual way
my eyes will be on only you
trust me baby you are so good at what you do. | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 3/31/2008 11:57:56 AM | trust me baby you are so good at what you do
Yes, I became a pilot and I’m good at what I do.
Took years of study to assemble a fine crew
The crew and I pledge to do a fine job for you
Yeah, I pilot the rusty ugly garbage truck
rolling down every week on your street
Slamming and denting the overfilled cans
Throwing them down noisily on the street | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 3/31/2008 12:14:43 PM | Throwing them down noisily on the street
shouting at the police man doing his beat
Dawning his hat at the pretty young maiden
doing his job he handcuffs a villain
passing a postman he nods and chats a while
pulls his sack on his shoulder and smiles
getting chased by dogs today like in most
while he is delivering our post | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 3/31/2008 1:16:48 PM | while he is delivering our post
he nitices the lack of a hole to put it in
so off to another property
where they are actually ready to begin
no sin in stupidity
yet blatent flaunting to party poop
is like never appreciated
now ain't that a scoop | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 3/31/2008 4:16:01 PM | Drink rum till I crawl
listen to sad songs till I bawl
sounds like a plan I should start
that requires a trip to a liquor mart
so I will sit and procrastinate
knowing that I’d get there too late
I’ll just mull it over for awhile
contemplate walking that mile | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 3/31/2008 4:26:38 PM | contemplate walking that mile
you know it conflicts with my style
to walk to the bar when i could drive my car
is just gonna raise up my bile
so u go instead she said from the bed
to the sound of elvis costello
I feel like lead, so whats in your head?
and I found me another fellow | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 3/31/2008 4:35:50 PM | I found me another fellow
Over valley and dale past the stile
Where the birds and the bee’s, the flowers and trees
Push the city to the back of your mind
But don’t contemplate walking back home
In fact why not here build here of stone,
With no cold brick walls, in fact no borders at all,
A new home to warm your old soul. | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 3/31/2008 5:29:44 PM | a new home to warm your old soul
oh what wonders to behold
to leave the city for the countryside
the thoughts of it makes me wild
sometimes i feel i'm in a rat race
all i do is pace, pace, pace
spin my wheels and go insane
i would love to be in the country again... | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 3/31/2008 5:41:47 PM | i would love to be in the country again
when spring forth blossom new life begin
beyond the crocusses, tulips anticipated
rejuvinate these ol' bones o' mine created!
How longed to be in youth country again!
Inexperienced with experience from obtain!
Sprouting forth at very threshold of life's gold
Embarking sweet to journeys yet to be told! | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 3/31/2008 5:48:24 PM | i would love to be in the country again...
and run around naked and forget about sin
and forget about everything about where i been
unless i think it dont matter
but yesterday chases you and so you run fast
running away from your own past
you run and you run but you know it cant last
as the rats jump ship and just scatter | |
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