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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 4/16/2007 7:45:33 PM | Then You Can Tell Me Goodbye
Kiss me each morning for a million years
Hold me each evening by your side
Tell me you'll love me for a million years
Then if it don't work out
Then if it don't work out
Then you can tell me goodbye
Sweeten my coffee with a morning kiss
Soften my dreams with your sighs
Tell me you'll love me for a million years
Then if it don't work out
Then if it don't work out
Then you can tell me goodbye
[Organ solo]
If you must go, oh no, I won't grieve
If you wait a lifetime before you leave
Then if you must go
Mmm, I won't tell you no
Just so that we can say we tried
Tell me you'll love me for a million years
Then if it don't work out
Then if it don't work out
Then you can tell me goodbye
(John D. Loudermill) | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 4/17/2007 7:12:00 AM | Don't believe in me then
Don't believe in me then
I have forgiven more
by the time I was ten
than you could deal me
Don't believe in me then
I made my peace with death
when I was barely legal
I know life is a loan
Don't believe in me then
I have filed more W2's
than months in a year
to make ends meet
Don't believe in me then
I have buried my family
tended mortal sickness
and burned my face with tears
Don't believe in me then
I'm a Jewish Indian peasant
and I come from good stock
we always survive
Don't believe in me then
never looking beneath the surface
you didn't perceive
what was always there
Don't believe in me then
walk away
I believe in me
and my own strength
©LS 2/13/07 | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 4/17/2007 7:49:39 AM | | I believe in you! Wow! ♥ | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 4/17/2007 9:10:52 AM | me too,me too ya gotta love a surviver
oh ya wooby you look so serene in your hat(if i can be so bold) | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 4/17/2007 9:35:50 AM | ^^^^^^
Roar, lion, roar.....hey, I liked that poem in first, last. Just wanted to let you know. Just my opinion, but I would bring it to my own thread, were I you, Gandalf.....
Wooby, my cup runneth over.....your sweet words ARE like wine, and I thank you for them. You are an oasis of kindness in a shark infested world......
The days are warming up, though the nights are still freezing....every time I hear the heater kick on I wince. I got some propane in February and hoped it would last, I'm afraid to even check the meter......
legend
and myths are made
from ordinary people
in extraordinary circumstances
defending the defenseless
who forgot their fear
and fought the giant
they already won
when they stepped
forward
©LS 4/6/07 | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 4/17/2007 12:03:19 PM | | like those last 2 brizo...;).......My oil runneth low..also..:/ | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 4/17/2007 12:12:25 PM | | Wow I believe in you too Brizo!!! You are one amazing woman. | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 4/17/2007 2:41:29 PM | Why gandolf, indeed you may (blush). Love yer handle by the way: my last car, a biggol shiny black Jeep Grand Cherokee was named Shadowfax. Had waited long enough for the black pickup, and just went ahead. Unluckily, this Shadowfax was the merest shadow of the original.
Brizo -- propane's gotten so high that I'm only using it (via oven) for early morning warm ups, and cooking. Pretty much switched to small electric space heaters and long johns. I, too, was hoping the propane would last. I, too, am scared to go look at the gage. . . . Maybe next winter I'll get the woodstove hooked back up and take care of at least one room. . . .
The one below was written about two weeks after Tanner had been diagnosed with liver cancer.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Looking for a way to pray.
To ask friends and strangers alike to do so.
The pictures are all heads down, hands clasped.
Nothing in me feels that way.
I want to look up, search the face of all that is.
I want to be an empty cup, to be filled.
I want to be an ewer, filled and overflowing.
I want, only, to know. To understand.
Help me please.
3/02/2006 | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 4/17/2007 9:11:08 PM | I believe in you too, Autumn.....I read in the poetry advice thread that you don't edit. I'm amazed at your natural ability to know what to leave out. You poems are perfect!
Gandalf, I see you retrieved your poem....
Wooby, he is all right now? I had gathered from your website that he was recovered. What a terrifying thing! My aunt had twins and in 1973 Bree was operated on for a hole in her heart. It had taken her that long to gain weight enough for the surgery, she was nearly four. I was a junior in high school, and the day never seemed so long.....but she made it, and I am so grateful to Ronald McDonald charities. They provided my aunt and uncle with lodging for what probably added up to years.....free....
****************************************************************************
I posted this in Age of Innocence....
We have all been here before
words fall short
I cannot write
the sympathy I feel
does not come out right
I've never lost a child of life
I am fortunate, I know
I lost a child of womb
was swept away by sorrow
and so cannot imagine
the depth of your grief
had I seen that child's face
pain would be beyond belief
I do not know your faith
I know what I believe
we are not here just one time
but still we grieve
those we hold dear
are soulmates of forever
the life we're living here
and some of those thereafter
That is just my belief
should you find any comfort in it
it gave me some relief
when in my grief I sought it
LS | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 4/18/2007 10:06:19 AM | soul stain
the feathers of your ink stained life
have tinged all things they crept upon
with the murkiness of inner query
and the dimness of deeds half done
a bruise upon the joyous soul of life
©LS 2/17/07 | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 4/18/2007 10:14:09 AM | bringing it home from Tob's and Mogador.....
grandfather
work speaks
from every wrinkle
in his hands
his eyes
are ringed
with laughter
and sorrow
he wears his life
without apology
in his freckled skin
one foot
in the next world
where many wait
©LS 2/15/07 | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 4/18/2007 10:24:56 AM | bringing it home from Age of Innocence.....
The great thaw 2/14/07
if ever I thaw
this icicle heart
memories
will trigger
defrosting
kindled by
flames
of reverence
within | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 4/18/2007 10:32:09 AM | Grief for a child
Bruise of the heart
Tears deep from the womb
Chronic parental sadness | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 4/18/2007 11:16:16 AM | Hi Marie, welcome to the thread. I was so glad to see you in first, last.....someone new to bounce lines from keeps us hopping in there.....I know you're not new to the poetry threads though, I've seen some of your poems....
I cannot imagine the inner strength needed to reconstruct your life with such a large piece missing..... surviving my children has always been my greatest fear.....my sister, who lost her son in 2005, turned to me and said " The worst thing that could happen to me has happened, and I'm still alive".......
To any who were freshly hurt by bringing it up, my apologies...... | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 4/18/2007 11:21:21 AM | Bonjour Brizo
I enjoyed your poetry very much
No need to apologize
It is something I have to live with
Thank you for the welcome
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 4/18/2007 3:44:04 PM | Ya, Brizo, he's doing very well indeed. It just came across that on my blog, and was totally revisited by the emotion. Prolly helped by the fact that a friend of a good friend lost a daughter in the Blacksburg massacre.
. | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 4/18/2007 8:41:54 PM | Oh no.....they were discussing that at work today. Imagine saving your entire life to send your child to college, and something like this happens......from what I read the boy frightened the other students and two of his teachers. He had been institutionalized at one point. One teacher quit teaching him and some students quit class because he made them so uneasy.....he had been turned in for stalking twice. What the hell ? Things like this leave us all frustrated, wondering why social programs exist if they don't target these people and help.....
***************************************************************************
Purple Martin
Let us begin
our synchronistic
dance
I start John Deere
and watch
wistful
longing to create
even a
shadows weight
of your unconscious
beauty
you gracefully
swoop
in tandem
an avian
blue angel
of insect death
LS | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 4/19/2007 11:24:30 AM | sea therapy
no unexpected stops there Captain
no unscheduled ports of call
your sailors have to be adapting
to life without the alcohol
the freshness of the sea will clean them
and nature's silence be their song
the deepness of the sky has meaning
to right the life that has gone wrong
LS 2/17/07 | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 4/19/2007 11:32:34 AM | oops, the previous poem was posted in first, last and brought home. this one I'm not certain....this has been teaching me to credit when I drop these off in other's thread, so later I can remember. I was never good at memorizing, though numbers and layouts of towns come easily....
sing a song
singing,
lyric lightly winging
melody lilting
tilting and gilting
all who listen
with golden glisten
rhapsodic
harmonic
infectious
bequiling
outrageous
musical smiling
is contagious
©LS 2/20/07 | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 4/19/2007 1:31:41 PM | High in the tower of
seriousness,
you'll always find
a Quasimodo
swinging on the
irony bell,
a pleasure some
lean into,
a task others
take too serious.
```````````````````````
I don't know what the heck I'm doing here sometimes,
but I sure like doing it...when I can...
better get my hump back to the grind, the bishops are after me for swinging after hours..
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 4/19/2007 1:43:36 PM | | There is some great stuff in here. | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 4/19/2007 9:02:39 PM | Hi Om, thanks for stopping by, but the hunchback position is already taken by my troll, who follows and makes snide comments.....
badamb (hope I spelled that right)....thank you! Welcome to the thread, and feel free to leave your poems here. There is no theme......
****************************************************************************
Stripe 2/19/07
the neighborhood has
it's own little skunk
eating the pet food
and being a punk
he's not really small
he has a great diet
he waits for nightfall
when all becomes quiet
cats as you know
leave food in their dish
to finish it up
is Stripes fondest wish
He waddles between
the various farms
getting larger each year
and escaping harm
he's becoming a legend
in our little area
so far uncontested
stop him, I dare ya
Ls | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 4/19/2007 9:15:33 PM | | That is so cool! I have a big smile on my face. I thank you for this, Brizo. | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 4/19/2007 9:40:38 PM | hey, want a skunk, Joshua?  My encounters with animals over the years have gotten comical. Once I sprayed the hose at a groundhog who was trapped by my dogs......he liked it, as if I was giving him a shower, he even closed his eyes in bliss....... Another time a racoon living in the tree above the dog came down and took his blanket up the tree. It's still there, about 50 or 60 feet up.....
*****************************************************************************
posted in Alyosha's thread.....and maybe the talking mimes?
magic kisses
do we not
all
wish
for magic
kisses
to suspend
our disbelief
and sprout
wild hope
to bloom ?
©Ls 2/23/07
VVVVVVVVVVV
hey Ravin, I like that idea....think it would work for a job interview? Hehe..... | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 4/19/2007 10:05:27 PM | The skunk is all about Respect.
Try pretending that you got one
sitting right on your shoulder.
C'mon, I dare ya!
Does it scare ya?
Think if it as your friend,
Just pretend
Imagine petting it's soft fur
And knowing how it would react for sure!
No one can pet like a human can do
And it responds by loving you.
Imagine a skunk, loyal and true
To form.
Non conform.
Funny the way it works.
People who used to be jerks.
Are holding doors open for you,
Taking off hats, Say “how do you do?”
Real friendly, suspect..
But full of respect.
They can read it in your smile and your perfect poise
That skunk’s got its tail up and is warning all the boys
Don’t bother trying to talk down, or think I’ll go away
I’ve got something on my mind, I have a mind to say
Sometimes it’s time to talk about the “made in China” tags
And just what is sacrificed for imitation Gucci bags
Sometimes it’s to fight Monsanto thugs from destroying DNA
To create a world monopoly by turning straw to hay.
Sometimes it’s to protest the war that destroys human kind
Sometimes it’s to compliment a man who’s free to speak his mind.
But ya they’ll sense it coming through and they listen for a change
So whenever you have to be a voice, try to arrange
To have a skunk accompany you at least in spirit
I swear they won’t get close enough, they won’t want to get near it.
Somehow, they know, more important, they think..
That if they treat you wrong,
you would cause a real
big
stink. | |
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