| 8 LINE STANZAS ....bonanza
Posted: 3/19/2007 1:29:41 PM | Astral projection gets honorable mention.
Flying peices of the world, swing like cord with tension.
Basking in the stars, I stay , forget the world, live today!
I am feeling so at home, like a wolfe come out to play.
Feelings take me, higher heavens break me.
I am looking for the place to land, finally free.
Until the time I find the answer, I will last like a depression.
In your mind, forever looming, like a pschye session. | |
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| 8 LINE STANZAS ....bonanza
Posted: 3/19/2007 7:30:35 PM | In your mind, forever looming like a psyche session
i'll be the front-runner in your daily obsession
peeling away the layers of your undetermined mind
until i find that piece of me i thought i left behind
never to leave you lonely,
never to go away
i might be lost for a session but i'm
never gone to stay | |
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| 8 LINE STANZAS ....bonanza
Posted: 3/19/2007 9:22:22 PM | never gone to stay so far away before this day of reckoning
departing in the night for distant shore
if ever song is played by balladeer in sway of beckoning
imparting with some fright for ever more
spiriting away from certain death is all the son can do
to find some hope in future’s memory of the two
bonding hand in hand with foreign land in morning dew
I’m reminded of the time I spent with you. | |
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| 8 LINE STANZAS ....bonanza
Posted: 3/19/2007 9:42:04 PM | I
m reminded of the time I spent with you
sleeping in the back of that truck
getting up in the morning
to go to the nearest
bus
depot
anywhere where
I could die with your million deaths
and then
you chose to be
my shrink
what
the Think?
was I thinkin?
Does it ever occur to you
that I
fu*cked you on that highway to hell
remember?
That time
Well I'm no longer regretful
nor
forgivin
but I've
gotten
my own way
to Zone
Into theZone
and come back again
Now
I think I may
Understand | |
|
pensky
|
Joined: 12/19/2006
Msg: 1630 | |
| 8 LINE STANZAS ....bonanza
Posted: 3/19/2007 9:46:18 PM | I'm reminded of the time I spent with you--
whittling sling shots, as minutes unloosed
by count as from your bow, finding chiseled
stones from spears of old hoarding sacred.
Minutes were we together not hours or days.
Each count marked the vision of our ways.
So that was what it meant to be with you.
Defining me was what you put me through.
dang sorry. carry on. I'll leave it anyway.
Heck. It don't really matter if we overlap. It's all good. | |
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| 8 LINE STANZAS ....bonanza
Posted: 3/20/2007 11:18:09 AM | Heck. It doesn't really matter if we overlap. It's all good. If you want to play in the patchwork of everyday new and full blown yet always alone the together comes together and near me is home. Take flight and flow
soon.
We'll meet midair like a full breath of understanding
somewhere
let's just say it happens everyday...like "let's go play or quit this scene ...where we've been idling....Spring ....Into a New kind of shower.... sprinkled with
love powder...baby" | |
|
pensky
|
Joined: 12/19/2006
Msg: 1632 | |
| 8 LINE STANZAS ....bonanza
Posted: 3/20/2007 2:31:27 PM | Idling...Spring.....Into a New kind of shower....sprinkled with
love powder...baby--yeah it's a easy-breezin March-smith
Let the feel of the air mold you to it's own
Let the cool breeze your kewlness hone.
Let the buds in the trees, be kewl likewise
Let the birds on them buds, take note and rise
to the shower's source of power in our idle camp.
Lazy stay a while till the raindance' stomping stamp. | |
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| 8 LINE STANZAS ....bonanza
Posted: 3/20/2007 6:15:31 PM | Lazy stay a while till the raindance' stomping stamp
got to finish stuff inside and deal with March's damp
deceptively it looks real warm but it's still cold outside
when I feed the pets or get the mail wind makes me wanna hide
This winter has been long and tough and endless too I'm thinking
and I can hardly wait for spring but I hear hailstones plinking
I'll turn the kettle on for tea and go and get my slippers
and dream of carribean seas and snorkeling with flippers | |
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| 8 LINE STANZAS ....bonanza
Posted: 3/21/2007 8:30:15 AM | and dream of carribean seas and snorkeling with flippers
cause I'm a sucker for the trace of the corals
that flow around the fountain of truth
where I dive thinkin about you
I gotta turn my skin into a sunfish flowing
from the current growing like a new beyond and another harbour just another half hour and away I flow from the sea shore and a depth to explore...snorkeling the magical sun kin moon
within the surface and the ocean floor | |
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| 8 LINE STANZAS ....bonanza
Posted: 3/21/2007 3:17:48 PM | ^^^ Mulder .... you were kidnapped by aliens and taken to I believe page 39 or 40 ^^^
[nice of you to comment but from your header I think you are very lost and so your comment doesn't reach the right person ... try quoting who and the post # ]
= = = = = = = and now back to our fun = = = = = = = = = = =
within the surface and the ocean floor
a treasure trove of gold and more
silt and sand camoflage entwined with nesting rays
lost days from past conquest between genocidal fantasies
sunk by privateers sactioned to drown enemies of the state
hate only being a tool weilded by salt stained fools lost in seas of political distress
Jewels of the crown left to go down with ship
what a trip | |
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| 8 LINE STANZAS ....bonanza
Posted: 3/22/2007 4:58:12 AM | what a trip, what a day
ending up with sand in the naughty places
and until i've had my say
could you stop making those faces?
we came here with a purpose
a reason, if you will
don't let the money usurp us
when the waiter brings the bill | |
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| 8 LINE STANZAS ....bonanza
Posted: 3/22/2007 8:11:26 AM | when the waiter brings the bill to us
I flip ya for the mints
no need to rush back to the bus
our driver dropped that hint
See he has a friend just down the block
who's waiting for a visit
she loves to nibble, roll and rock
while he tries to last twenty minutes | |
|
pensky
|
Joined: 12/19/2006
Msg: 1639 | |
| 8 LINE STANZAS ....bonanza
Posted: 3/22/2007 4:49:44 PM | While he tries to last twenty minutes
she digests her love's passion in snippets
Ah what love can do, when the heart is true
She'll even give a howdy do, when it's all through
While she lies there all tingly and yearning
Her heart's passion for him still a-burning
He'll roll over to sleep, his own company to keep
As her innards quietly weep. | |
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| 8 LINE STANZAS ....bonanza
Posted: 3/22/2007 10:04:01 PM | and her innards quietly weep the spring
and with a sweep becomes a thing be longing for ever songing and a day and another maerry day somthing to be said
for the innards of spring we can splash all to gether or one in front of the other or disassemble like a box of pick up stix, roll like cats eye marbles through the gritty playground puddles find a broken star and throw some wheels on it take it for a spin like a Flav a Flav Car or just roll around like a billie
and silly goat life breaking all the wire fences and making friends with goats that don't get gruff kick the milk pails and get them mixed like another
screw up to wake up the neighbours | |
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| 8 LINE STANZAS ....bonanza
Posted: 3/23/2007 4:21:01 AM | wake up the neighbors
shake up your friends
enlightened and frightened
will this fun never end?
epiphany-ordered my
self-medicated bliss
tell me, does it get
any better than this? | |
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| 8 LINE STANZAS ....bonanza
Posted: 3/23/2007 8:46:07 AM | any better than this
we'd all be pissed
friends would insist we stay
long and strong and hard at play until the light of new day dawns
enigmatic yawns spawn sparkling cheer
it all becomes clear as our ears become accustomed to the beat
tapping feet generate heat and the body begins to sway
undulating in a sensual way. | |
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| 8 LINE STANZAS ....bonanza
Posted: 3/23/2007 9:17:51 PM | undulating in a sensual way.
with seven veils went Salome
she won Johns head with her seduction
and won the poor man saint induction
And then there was the vamp Delilah
who was completely full of guilah {poetic liscense]
to make strong Samson lose his strength
while sleeping cut his locks of length | |
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| 8 LINE STANZAS ....bonanza
Posted: 3/23/2007 9:51:00 PM | While sleeping cut his locks of length,
so sorry was I , when I took a peek.
Dang baby,,,so sorry about chur hair!
You should not have made me out like Linda Blair!
I wanted, you,,,I needed you!
just say,,,,I need a good screw!
lIFE SUCKS,,,WHEN YOU WANT IT!!!!!!!!!!!
hELL,,,,BURNS,,,WHEN,,,YOU FEEL IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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| 8 LINE STANZAS ....bonanza
Posted: 3/24/2007 8:07:40 AM | Hell burns when you feel it leave
the time you spend is at your ease
wait while running after all
then stopped by giant prickly balls
bouncing up and down your spine
not even keeping a known time
paced to drive you back insane
like some ripped up pieces of your brain. | |
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| 8 LINE STANZAS ....bonanza
Posted: 3/24/2007 10:21:36 PM | Like some ripped up pieces of your brain
scattered around like spaghetti strained
tomato sauce oozes between the strands
thick as blood in this abandoned land
lustful nature, hateful desires
intense angers fuel the fires.
revengeful angels cry in the night
sacred souls tremble with fright. | |
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| 8 LINE STANZAS ....bonanza
Posted: 3/24/2007 10:59:26 PM | sacred souls tremble with fright
as the winds abandon flight
crawling unto peaks of dreams
scratching nails on computer screens
cyanide rivers cross peanut butter plains
energy bars drink up your brain
pharmaceutical war paint on his chest
calmly stokes a black heart to rest | |
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| 8 LINE STANZAS ....bonanza
Posted: 3/25/2007 8:30:51 AM | Calmly stokes a black heart to rest.
Glad you got it off your chest.
I will be here for the ending.
Many red hearts I am sending.
Laughing at the way you carry
all the words are oh so scary
Enlighten me and my path
Give my soul a warm wet bath
Enlighten me and my day
here to bathe me in your way | |
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| 8 LINE STANZAS ....bonanza
Posted: 3/25/2007 9:03:05 AM | here to bathe me in your way
lay back relax is what you say
the tutle peaks out from his bush
with a tickle wiggle that tush
lots of bubble with cleaning action
cleans me up to your satisfaction
then a good towling front and back
now we're ready for the sack | |
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| 8 LINE STANZAS ....bonanza
Posted: 3/25/2007 10:11:05 AM | now we're ready for the sack to put our bushels in from the fields
that fold under like fodder to plunder and rain to seek
from where to break like a pinkish win kish wish be told where the seeds know why
needs they come and go to dirt then
a good bathing and a juicy tropical cotton towel with no end it sops ...soaps suds up
the dripping water tinctures and oils luxurious spoils
of relaxation on a sunday morn slipping into the after noon where I have more time
and sometimes I nap | |
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