| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 7/28/2008 6:55:54 AM | because, baby you are so sweet
i just want to be alone with you!
meeting you has been such a treat
it feels good to be of the chosen few
a smile is like a gift from god
splits seas and brightens the day
an unearned privelidge for an old irish sot
'"just sitting on the dock of the bay..."
(alt. ending- who has yet learned how to pray) | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 7/28/2008 7:23:48 AM | just sitting on the dock of the bay
looking out into the deep blue sea
have now learned to pray
for all that is given to me
such gratitude fill my heart
a gentle release
even though we're world apart
in my heart such peace | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 7/28/2008 5:49:33 PM | in my heart such peace of
start and stop the fleese of
part or not police glove
art or shot the free dove
love is where you find yourself
above that sitting on the shelf
entwined with all the world around
floating while standing on the ground | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 7/30/2008 8:05:42 PM | floating while standing on the ground
i think i ordered all another round
at some point i'll hit the ground
but for now i'm flying
so forget what i did hear
its crap, i have no fear
life is so very clear
it needs no prying | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 8/5/2008 8:07:24 PM | just melt in quickly and be quite tricksie
along that river run
he delt it slickly while down in Dixie
from the wrong end of a gun
If only they listened to mama
while she was hanging out the wash
drink and gambling stick in yer craw
while ensuring you'll lose the toss | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 8/6/2008 3:47:25 PM | while ensuring you'll lose the toss
who cares about win or loss
give what you've got
throw in heart & soul
why whine when it's over
ya knew how it could go
keep moving forward head held high
move on and let sleeping dogs lie | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 8/7/2008 3:31:21 AM | and dance as if no one is watching
sing a song to go round the world
seek to nurture what's there inside you
a tender bud waiting to be uncurled
let today take you by the hand
to find what it has in store
and know whatever you've given freely
returns in full with plenty more
Ah - for those squiggly bits lyric . . . | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 8/7/2008 10:37:46 AM | Returns in full with plenty more
In store yet not buying the story
In all it's glory forgetting what it means
A hill of beans or a mountain for moles
A plot full of holes the story cast asunder
Leaving us to wonder if in the truth
Despite seeming uncouth reality lies
In the lies we tell ourselves each morning | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 8/7/2008 1:04:55 PM | In the lies we tell ourselves each morning
we find discrepancy's in our own truth
like rabid clowns or thunder head warnings
the undercover monsters from the days of our youth
yet under it all is the meaning of us
a very scary unrealized scene
and though we know the dangerous
we still can't remember just where we've been | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 8/7/2008 1:19:39 PM | we still can't remember just where we've been
although try as we might, we try to
sometimes forgetting is simply living again
much better for me and you
the reason we learn so slow from past
a wise person once told me, a while back
it takes repetition to knock it into you
and chagrined I laughed for I knew that she spoke truth
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 8/7/2008 6:35:20 PM | and chagrined I laughed for I knew that she' spoke the truth
Meek , humble.... She speaks the truth
Sadly mankind does not hear
Her footsteps, sounding her past fears
The lady treads the land
And awaits the golden sand
Where she meets the ocean waves
Leaves behind her life of a slave'
To reside under the sun | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 8/7/2008 7:35:33 PM | and chagrined I laughed for I knew that she spoke truth
that to return we have to leave
begin again the world we weave
not searching for the absolute proof
but by agreeing to begin again
we reach out in hope and faith
that we will learn
to live in grace | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 8/8/2008 11:49:21 AM | to face with joy another year
to live in grace with hearty cheer
to run the race and bring up the rear
to simply state...what the f@ck am I doing here
a year has past since I took my leave
fed up with it all ,saying "that's it I'm through"
yesterday I returned ,and what do I see ?
the same rudeness to rules ,even when its spelled out for you | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 8/10/2008 6:53:19 AM | even when it's spelled out for you
you twist and turn to gain a safe footing
in the precariousness of another's writing
careful not to trample what they're putting
and if you reach beyond the rim
of somebody else's hard won story
you unfold your own and leave it there
proud to have a part in this shared glory | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 8/11/2008 8:05:36 AM | Proud to have a part in this shared glory
Proud to add my own line in the sand
Beneath a rustling well weathered flag
Sand flies seek targets of opportunity
The sun beats down like a hammer on an anvil
Obscuring all but our purpose our mission our fate
No matter your opinion no matter your side
We remain proud to add our lines in these sands | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 8/13/2008 3:25:39 AM | We remain proud to add our lines in these sands
knowing the tide is cresting to reach its turning
when, moon-pulled, it will dance towards the shore
like lovers drawn together to still their yearning
Lace ripples will tease the beckoning sand
retreat, return to nibble at rolling grains
until writing is filled and washed and ironed
smooth surfaces waiting for our next refrains | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 8/13/2008 3:32:19 AM | smooth surfaces waiting for our next refrains
minds full and churning with words
tumble forth upon the paper
words to ink prevents their vapor
fleeubg inges fill my mind
often inspired by another line
feeding of words that fall like grace
but never to take another place | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 8/14/2008 4:38:13 PM | but never to take another place
lost to the thought of foreign distaste
shadowed in rainbows like a seventies song
hoping its not too fat or too long
the animal zoo from a spirited clue
tweaks that nano-soul in you
with a kick of the heal on the back of the butt
a laugh and giggle dances in our good luck | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 8/14/2008 5:20:46 PM | A laugh and giggle dances in our good luck
The first with a swagger, the second with pluck
We know them both like the wave of a hand
it seems there's nothing left just now to understand.
A cry and a sniffle dance in our misfortune
the first with swagger, the second with pluck
We bow to them both in equal portion--
How we were stunned in the spell of good luck. | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 8/14/2008 9:25:31 PM | How we were stunned in the spell of good luck.
we waited for the other shoe to drop
the instinct there that makes you want to duck
or knock on wood to make the bad luck stop
eventually we learned to trust in life
and laugh within the sunshine of our days
although we weren't entirely free of strife
life was so sweet we journeyed through amazed | |
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