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| Soulful flight
Posted: 7/16/2007 11:15:08 AM |   hi bicpen........lovely writes here.....enjoyed every one! my friend!
A life in flight...........
never know where or when it may land
Living is deeper and harder than we planned
Wonder is part of my mystery and hope
Wishing I could just find a slow pace to cope
Never this happens...all stays the same
Rushing and rising of hearts , always lame
I try to endure the tide as it comes
But holding onto the last little stone
I wonder if maybe...........
Time does stand still
Never to be
my time..........
not my will!
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| Changes
Posted: 7/16/2007 12:40:20 PM | -
I’m staring at the man
who is staring at me
Who wants of me
what
I can’t quite see
What do you want
staring at me.
What could you want
with me
If I could change it
in you
then I can change it
in me?
Nothing is free
there must
be
a fee
You look so sad
and lost , it seems
You seem so lonely
just like
me
I can feel it
I’m sure, what
you’re saying is true
The changes
in me
come from changes
in you
I’m staring at the man
who is Staring at me
From the mirror
across the
room.
~ Capt. Zigzag
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| Changes
Posted: 7/16/2007 3:50:35 PM |
Hi Jules & Capt.
I'm breaking my no-comments-by-bicpen rule today, cuz I'm feelin outgoin and also a bit too pressed for time to email. I'm at Zeus'. Yippie. He's tied up right at the moment.
watching the hour glass...tick tock, tick tock. 
get it? tied up? ho ho!
I enjoyed both your posts very much.
haiku, cuz I'm so self-conscious otherwise.
vacation again
must have smoked one too many
now I'm in heaven | |
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| Thinkin about my Dad
Posted: 7/18/2007 7:53:41 AM | There may be nothing in my Dad's life
that could be used to credit who he was
other than to speak to people who knew
him personally
(my mom being the exception perhaps).
Anyway, Soon I'm going to post a couple
of old folk songs that he used to sing over
the years. They are songs he heard as a child
and I don't remember all the words and now
I never will. They are artifacts of his history
and mine. | |
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| Thinkin about my Dad
Posted: 7/18/2007 5:37:15 PM | Ok.
Well here's the first one. It's by Stephen Forster. I was able to google it and plan to go back and read the history of it. I would like to make sure right now that no one gets the idea that my Dad must have been racist for singing us this song. He wasn't. My dad was a person who laughed and cried with the spirit of humanity, which is colorless. I post it here because my Dad didn't sing much, and the only reason he ever would sing would be to make me happy and then it would be very soft and soulful.
Uncle Ned
There was an old darkey and his name was Uncle Ned, And he lived long ago, long ago;
He had no wool on the top o' his head, in the place where the wool ought to grow.
Then lay down the shovel and the hoe. Hang up the fiddle and the bow;
For there's no more work for poor old Ned, He's gone where ha good darkies go.
His fingers were long as the can in the brake, and he had no eyes for to see;
And he had no teeth for to eat a hoe cake, so he had to let the hoe-cake be.
Then lay down the shovel and the hoe. Hang up the fiddle and the bow;
For there's no more work for poor old Ned, He's gone where ha good darkies go.
That's the way that Dad sang it. When I googled, I discovered a third verse, as follows,
which I include here, since it was part of the original song:
One cold, frosty morning, old Ned died; Massa's tears they fell like the rain;
For he knew when Ned was laid in the ground, He'd never see his like again.
Note: I touches me personally to realize Dad chose not to sing that third verse. Also, in the first verse the original words were "died long ago", but Dad sang them "lived long ago". | |
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| Thinkin about my Dad
Posted: 7/20/2007 9:42:10 AM | Here's another. I had actually managed to google this one as well. But I lost it and couldn't get back to it most recently when I tried. I saw several versions, none of which were exactly like what Dad used to sing to me. My dad spent his minutes with me urging me to think and feel--and mostly to feel, and the overriding emotion he put in place was delight, but often with love and/or sorrow mixed in.
Here's the little tune:
Where oh where can my little lamb be?
A way out yonder in the valley?
The hawks and the buzzards pickin' at its eyes
poor little thing cryin' "Maaaa meee". | |
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| Thinkin about my Dad
Posted: 7/22/2007 1:21:44 PM | Beautiful Dreamer, by Stephen Forster
Beautiful dreamer, wake unto me,
Starlight and dewdrops are waiting for thee;
Sounds of the rude world, heard in the day,
Lull'd by the moonlight have all pass'd away!
Beautiful dreamer, queen of my song,
List while I woo thee with soft melody;
Gone are the cares of life's busy throng,
Beautiful dreamer, awake unto me!
Beautiful dreamer, awake unto me!
Beautiful dreamer, out on the sea
Mermaids are chanting the wild lorelie;
Over the streamlet vapors are borne,
Waiting to fade at the bright coming morn.
Beautiful dreamer, beam on my heart,
E'en as the morn on the streamlet and sea;
Then will all clouds of sorrow depart,
Beautiful dreamer, awake unto me!
Beautiful dreamer, awake unto me!
from my dad. | |
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| Thinkin about my Dad
Posted: 7/22/2007 1:42:26 PM | Well. If I post any more, it would be a discredit to my Dad, because although he would have been willing to sing plenty, I'm sure, he didn't get to that much because kiddy's attention spans are brief and we tend to ask for the same little bits of songs over and over. I barely remember "Beautiful dreamer" for it was somewhat boring.
I do want to post the following poem, though. It, along with "Puss n Boots" and "Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner" were my childhood favorites for Dad to read me at bedtime.
The Owl and the pussycat, by Edward Lear
The Owl and the pussycat went to sea
In a beautiful pea-green boat,
They took some honey, and plenty of money,
Wrapped up in a five pound note.
The Owl looked up to the stars above,
And sang to a small guitar,
"O lovely ****! O ****, my love,
What a beautiful **** you are, you are, you are,
What a beautiful **** you are."
**** said to the Owl "You elegant fowl,
How charmingly sweet you sing.
O let us be married, too long we have tarried;
But what shall we do for a ring?"
They sailed away, for a year and a day,
To the land where the Bong-tree grows,
And there in a wood a Piggy-wig stood
With a ring at the end of his nose, his nose, his nose,
With a ring at the end of his nose.
"Dear Pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling your ring?"
Said the Piggy, "I will"
So they took it away, and were married next day
By the Turkey who lives on the hill.
They dined on mince, and slices of quince,
Which they ate with a runcible spoon.
And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand.
They danced by the light of the moon, the moon, the moon,
They danced by the light of the moon. | |
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| Thinkin about my Dad
Posted: 7/22/2007 3:13:05 PM | Hi naiveandwitty. I've just signed on to stare and browse a bit. At the moment I have a headache and really should be getting on the road as I have a long drive to make today.
But I can't resist posting here and now to thank you for your comment.
I guess I just wanted to scrapbook myself some memories of Dad here on my thread and I'm deeply touched by the warm reception.
Life goes on, threads go on, but words of kindness linger. Oh yes and I almost forgot my resolution to answer comments with the hug emoticon.
Here's to memories; here's to life.
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| The Terrible Thing About Chiggers
Posted: 7/22/2007 9:38:43 PM | The terrible thing about chiggers
is really a terrible thing
They crawl in the weeds by the rivers,
lay eggs in your skin as they sting
The larve chew and spit in you till you
want to run run run
but the most horrible thing about chiggers
is that I'mmm the nest for some.  | |
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| The Terrible Thing About Chiggers
Posted: 7/23/2007 11:35:01 AM | Chiggers sound horrible my friend....if you haven't gotten on the road yet, I wish you a safe drive back home. Soon I leave to the airport...not looking forward to that trip at all. Hunter says "soak in bleach and water for those chiggers."
Kindness is shown in so many ways
when given to another
it brightens lonely days
reaching out to another is what we must do
to provide to them
a most glorious view. | |
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| Young Man Cardinal
Posted: 7/27/2007 2:15:54 PM |
What a joy
for my dog and me
just before rain
drippings fell,
when air pressure
softened
and he beheld me
smiling softly
at young man,
Cardinal.
I believe those two
were already acquainted.
We watched our
new neighbor
air himself on
a porch rail nearby.
He, Cardinal,
warm orange beak,
tawny brindle plumage,
spots of brilliant red
proudly starting it's
pilgrimage to
next summer's
manhood.
Master's brush strokes
of purest black.
Come to think
of it-- the most
beautiful
bird
I've
ever
seen. . . and
to know he comes
from such a loving
neighborly family.
Young man, Cardinal,
our neighbor.
Today is peaceful. | |
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| Young Man Cardinal
Posted: 7/27/2007 2:41:30 PM |  V. that was a lovely poem...! sincerely......Nothing more lovely than a bird in our view....generous little souls...with so much ....in their veiw! Colours within them...I find so very lovely! Each one a personality....all of their own! Kinda like us....only much more free and bold. They live for the day....what each day ...beholds!
Setting my eyes....upon you .....today!
Gentle little souls...living life for the day!
Never to worry.....forget the fret!
Live for the day.....and what it brings.....no regret!
Lovely little angels....sent from up above.......
generous souls.....with so much sweet love!
Appear for our pleasure.....though they know not of us!
They live life much fuller.......they enjoy....every moment!
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| Young Man Cardinal
Posted: 7/27/2007 2:48:03 PM |
Tanks jules. . . I tell ya, he really was something. I wish I'd said something about his, what it is called, a "crest" or "crown"? He is going to be one hunk of a cardinal next year. Wish I'd had my camera
Haiku:
young man cardinal
brilliantly colored so young
Birds on steroids? | |
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| Extra Cat
Posted: 7/28/2007 7:34:48 AM | haikus for me with a bad case of cats...
This house has a cat
full-grown, eternal kitten--
bored, but sweet and clean.
This house also has
big-dog, eternal puppy--
born here, naught but ours.
Big boy and big girl
human, almost-grownups, sleep
and freshen up here.
Big boy is my son
I live where the big boy sleeps.
Thus, I see my son.
Here am I am here,
conductor of a symphony
imperceivable.
Eleven, last night,
they bring me Macaroni
(that is)
Big ones bring me cat.
They always catch me
--when I'm weak or distracted--
to care for the wild,
but adoreable
bits of life that amaze them.
Amazed my cat, too.
Dog didn't raise a sniff--
on his chain, where cats roam free,
brother cat, inside.
Macaroni growls,
hisses and swats at my cat,
who just wants to play.
My cat, silky black
wide-eyed, perfect puss-n-boots
cartoon meets nature's cat.
Macaroni sees
right through him
my cat fades away.
Make it be like it
was before, when my animals
were seen and not heard.
It's breakin' my heart.
The big ones are gone. I'm stuck
with a hostile cat.
Forced to house a cat,
bad cat named Macaroni--
bad, because she's here.
I did well last night
to keep it in the cat cage,
but I'm no jailer.
Even now, distant hiss
from this most ungrateful guest.
What will my cat catch
from this mean cat's scratch?
I hate to be a pessimist,
but I don't want to
prolong this a week,
as the big ones say I should.
I feel like The Grinch.
What? It could improve?
No matter, I want this cat out!
(felt good to say that)
I apologize
for this droning haiku rant
it must seem silly.
I love cats, I do.
Now there's another to love...
Beam me up, Scotty. | |
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| Extra Cat
Posted: 7/28/2007 7:40:37 AM | A visiting cat
who with your's
wants to play
oh I am thinking
this could wreak havoc
upon your day
only a guest right
try not to
hold too much fright
never know
might make friends
as time to both
so graciously lends? | |
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| Extra Cat
Posted: 7/28/2007 7:56:45 AM | Yeah, well...we can hope.
Again hate to be negative.
The dog also has to come in sometime.
This new cat doesn't want to play with my Gabriel.
I guess I'm going to have to do some lap time and firmly
establish my presence between them.
Well, It's not so bad, I guess.
It's kinda like having another kid.
Except they can't go outside at all
and then there's the hyped up dog on the chain...
and the oppressive sticky heat outside
and and and
I could ignore the ones I already have...
Thanks for stopping by, Wicked.
If these felines bond, I'll be proud to report it. | |
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| Extra Cat
Posted: 7/28/2007 9:18:07 AM | bicpen, two males take the longest to bond....most cats will eventually bond, but I do own a cat my sis brought over, because it just would not settle down with her other cats. Polly is just now (after two years) beginning to treat Simon and Opie decently. It's all a show, which they view with lazy boredom, considering they have claws and hunt all the time, and she's declawed and doesn't have a clue.....
Simon and Opie took almost two years to bond.....Simon was here first, and very mean to Opie.....
Opie
Bentley called you dopie
but I always knew
he loved you
and because I loved you both
I almost let you go
so neither would grieve
when I had to leave
those first few years
back here
you were picked on so
and I knew I
was the reason you stayed
I prayed
you wouldn't leave
every day
we played our game
where you fell on your back
to attack
but you never claw or bite
and I never really
pull your tail
and I suppose
someone might think
you're nothing special
to look at
but kitty
you're special
to me
LS 5/22/07 | |
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| Extra Cat update and Cyndi Lauper lyrics
Posted: 7/28/2007 9:24:37 AM | I think Macaroni is under the stairs. Gabe is with me. Quiet is good.
I've been wanting to post these lyrics, by Cyndi Lauper, here anyway, and well, stray cats are mentioned in them.
Neither of these cats are strays. Both are set in their ways and spoiled,
like so many people...
"All Through The Night"
All through the night
I'll be awake and I'll be with you
All through the night
This precious time when time is new
Oh, all through the night today
Knowing that we feel the same without saying
We have no past we won't reach back
Keep with me forward all through the night
And once we start the meter clicks
And it goes running all through the night
Until it ends there is no end
All through the night
stray cat is crying so stray cat sings back
All through the night
They have forgotten what by day they lack
Oh under those white street lamps
There is a little chance they may see
We have no past we won't reach back
Keep with me forward all through the night
And once we start the meter clicks
And it goes running all through the night
Until it ends there is no end
Oh the sleep in your eyes is enough
Let me be there let me stay there awhile
We have no past we won't reach back
Keep with me forward all through the night
And once we start the meter clicks
And it goes running all through the night
Until it ends there is no end
Keep with me forward all through the night
And once we start the meter clicks
And it goes running all through the night
Until it ends there is no end | |
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| If there is a mate for your soul
Posted: 7/28/2007 11:54:56 AM | from first line last line
If there is a mate for your soul,
he'll be there waiting somehow
or so it will seem--
be perfect for the person you are.
You-plural, truly ready at here and now
to align with your soul-mate-guiding star.
The hum of your two hearts will chime
the song of all creation;
As will circumstances of your two lives rhyme
when you're inducted into the secret nation
of Love fulfilled and walking the earth:
Holy Aggregate of the Virgin Birth.
Note: Thanks Ravin for the first line, in which I've changed two words for this version, and moved to the second line. | |
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| Hi Brizo and cat update
Posted: 7/28/2007 1:07:29 PM | I'm sorry. I didn't see you up there.
I like your cat poem.
The cats here have called a truce more or less for the time being. But it's time now for the dog to come in. This is a cute cat. When I first saw her I noticed a resemblance to my longest-lived childhood cat, the animal of my childhood devotion. But that's all I've got to say. It's a girl. I'm not entirely convinced it's not in heat. I'm going to have to do something about its fleas. Razzm Frazzm bringing me more animals to neglect. Aargh.
One last kitty haiku
Perturbed, displaced cat.
Her eyes meet mine--mutual
resignation bonds. | |
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| Bad Day in Hooterville
Posted: 7/28/2007 1:09:42 PM | Chiggers
Bad Day in Hooterville
Chiggers always seem to win
I’ve had a case of em now and then
Chopping down some
six foot tall Johnson grass
To beautify some Southern land
That was my basic plan
And then the stinging began
My crazy friend said
“Come here boy
With the tip of my blade
I’ll dig em out again
You guessed it, I took off an ran
Didn’t want my back to
Look like the killing fields
from the stories of South Vietnam
I ran begging to my neighbors
For the hillbilly secret potion
a medicinal or magical
or poisonous drink
Something homemade that works
Something you made in the sink
Gimme something to save my skin
This is a battle I need to win
I wanna make sure I grow old
They pointed that-a-way
“Drive to Town”
That’s all I was told
Go see the medicine man
He got the secret potion
Fo a chicken or some eggs
He will give you
His secret recipe
Home made Bug Bite Lotion
Burn the pillows and sheets
And Clorox the bed
Rub this all over your butt
And especially your head
Poisons the critters hiding there
Don’t worry abut your hair
May temporary turn red
The medicine man said
The stinging went away
I’m happy to say
I’m still bug free today
After all that was said
Thirty odd years later
My hair was still red
Still have a metallic taste on my tongue | |
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| Miracle to Me
Posted: 7/28/2007 1:13:03 PM | Thanks Rune3 for the first line:
You're a miracle to me,
like bottle genie on desert island shore,
you're every thing I've wished for
before and after thus - far life --
of all of you I see, or will--of all of what you are,
from bashful revelation to obstinate decree,
the embodiment of what my being long has longed to see--
heavenly face that (within inches of mine)
bestows "The Light" upon me.
On grateful knee, I pray you concede my one and only plea,
no matter how human our failings will be,
you're a miracle to me.
Note: From First line, last line. Thanks Rune3 for the first line: | |
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| Life Before Sin
Posted: 7/28/2007 1:24:50 PM | Life Before Sin
Hand in hand strolling down by the sea...
warmth in the sand under sun, to just be.
Words float like breath like the salt from the wave.
Skin breathing soft in Her womb as we bathe,
the mind has no reason to resist such a day.
When life is all living and play is all play...
When the sun is forgiving and soft clouds join in,
the spirit of God presents us the way
to commune with the memory of life before sin.
Note: From eight line, repeated stanza. Thanks Bubblez for the first line. | |
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