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pensky
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Joined: 12/19/2006
Msg: 26 | |
| Brizo's poems
Posted: 3/10/2007 8:52:34 AM | Daddy Longlegs: I can so imagine...
I'm gonna try one here for my current mood:
The mood that is quiet has something to say
about being not-sad-- a state to relish in its day.
The mind that is balanced in all its emergencies,
understands in silence how to manage its agencies.
Accepts the present state of order as it has come,
in comprehensively re-measuring priority rule-of thumb.
Decisions are nothing to speak of or to hear.
Statements of intention are sneaky in the air
for they leave pronouncement still unproved,
the listener and perhaps the actor unmoved.
Life is too delicate an art to be talked about.
Serenity, the arbiter, knows what to leave out. | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 3/10/2007 8:58:15 AM | Thank you ladies........you are both so very talented your compliments are heady praise indeed....
Brolga , are you going to continue with our hero, you left him in a burning building......and I have fallen in love with your story.......
Wooby Just don't ever stop being you, people like you are one of the reasons I'm so glad the internet was invented, I might never have met you otherwise.....
All poems previously posted on Eyes Wide Shut's thread, I fell in love with his writing, as so many of us did....
This was my first post on Salty's Alphabet thread......
Bar 10/29/06
smoky swollen slits spy
grotesque gyrating girls
boistrous boinking boys
dazed disbelief
jaded judgement
hoarse husky hollering
enlivened elbowing
jovial jostling
inbred impenetrable isolation
dwindling dollars
daunting drive
humble heavenly harbor
home
LS
aha, Sky you sneaked in there while I was posting..........as I've gotten older, I talk less and less.....perhaps we begin to realize that less is more.......not less words, per se, but I notice my kids listen to my advice when they have to ask for it, and I have learned to have comfortable silences, and to look for that ability in a partner - the ability for both of us to be comfortable with each others' silence.......oh, and the daddy longlegs (you naughty thing) is a man whose measurements were 34W36L, who was 6'3"........however, nature being what it is, there is proportion......(wink, wink) | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 3/10/2007 9:11:28 AM | Yes...about Wooby (while she's not listening) Wouldn't it be great to just wander into her kitchen and have a cup of tea? I think she lives in some magic meadow, in "the last homely house east of the sea."
You like my Milton story. Thankyou. That is great. Poor old Milt. is being a bit of a bore these days, the **stard! I don't know whether I should leave him to burn to a crisp or get him out to blunder about somewhere else. | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 3/10/2007 9:17:24 AM | ~~Thought i would leave a piece of my perception of beauty....this was done about two weeks ago...it is what my eyes seen on an island up in the upper peninsula here in michigan....thought you would like it...
~~Sunset on a Perilous Abyss......~~
Sun sets upon the water....
sights unseen by thine eyes......
waves crash as the formations strengthen into solid ice forms.....
lillypads of ice swaying in the blue.....
ice held by hands...
so clear as a diamond forming in mother natures intricate design .....
sitting watching ....
seeing in eyes so blue grey the beauty caught in the waves of colors...
purple to orange to vibrant red...
tears form in eyes of wonderous gaze....
upon the islands haunting beauty....
the squirrel known so well taking play with the baby bird that lost its way.....
nature taking course in the death of the bird...
the death of the leaves...
the death of winters break....
yet the beauty is captured still...
never to leave without grace......
nightfalls as senses leave but one...
the listening of the view without the sight...
the crashing of the ricochet effect of winds upon water....
the bouncing of the lillypads against the ice formed cliffs...
the cracking of the ice with every step taken...
the ice sitting upon the rock....
the blackest rock...
yet a rock that ...
once seen thru my eyes for the first time...
meant so much...
the darkness of my soul catured in it..
yet the alabaster snow sets light to its demonic blackness.....
setting my soul free.....
the nights sky visible without imperfection.....
the right shoulder of Orions Belt.....
seen perfectly...
seeing Savannahs star two stars from his shoulder......
as if set there to have him hold her for me till we meet again.....
never to find in years past till now...
now seeing her there...
with the ring of light i constantly pray for to lead the way...
appearing before mine eyes...
to show me the place she lay...
watching over us...
with love unpersonified...
crying tears and falling into a time once past...
to let ONE see into my nightmare once held...
never to give the urge to do so ...
till she showed me the way...
the way to find peace in a place so real....
to find her...
my destiny to appear there and find her..
i know that now...
i found her and cried...
i let her go....
for i found her there in the sky..
so clear...
so real...
upon the sunset on a perilous abyss....
~~Lisa Anne | |
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Om
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Joined: 12/15/2006
Msg: 30 | |
| Brizo's poems
Posted: 3/10/2007 6:18:16 PM | ^^very nice lisa..:)
and brizo, shhhh, don't tell anyone, but your words made me cry last night..
thank you, I needed to wash my face...;)
and where is that talented eyes wide shut?
well, with his last encouraging words
and feather touch in mind...
```````````````````````````````````````````
More Monica
we met
years ago
in a busy city
now,
she sits on a beach
on the other side of the world
reading poems
I write poems
now | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 3/10/2007 6:38:31 PM | Yea Brizo! Great to have you getting all in one place. So when I want a cappibrizo, something warm and sweet, or with a healthy shot in it, or all the other wonderful ways you serve up your soul to us in poetry, I can come here. Love your stuff.
Tilt-a-whorl
And too much candy floss
This life
Coloured lights
And carnie calls,
Try your luck?
Not tonight
I’m running out of tickets. | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 3/10/2007 7:01:00 PM | Brolga If the pictures I've seen on woobys blog are of her home, it's gorgeous........and I do like Milt, but I think he should boink the landlady....though she might not be so inclined after he burns her house......
bubblez I love the UP, I've been there twice now. I've considered living there or back in Washington State, because of the trees...I'm sorry for your loss, I've read a few poems and they're heartbreaking....the city of Savannah is one of my favorites, along with Charleston....
OmI really like that poem......my grandma says there's a lid for every pot. I believe her! I'm not sure if I want to buy a lid, or just rent one....but then again, if it's MY lid, it will fit just right....
ravin I read what you wrote about being embryonic....only if you are considering your powerful creative potential. I don't think you're aware of how talented you are....and I love playing in the threads with you...and it only takes one ticket to win....
suncatcher 12/13/06
but I would never cry
if I believed in that, then I'd be blind
the pollyanna of my soul
has flooded the curmudgeon with
sunshine
I choose the prism view I want to see
in life's multi faceted refraction
if self absorbs the vibes that come to be
then I will choose a positive direction
LS | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 3/10/2007 8:55:34 PM | You guys. . . made me grin.
Ya'll are welcome to my kitchen anytime you are coming to (or by) WV. The bloggers on my other blogging site, the political one, meet and greet in various parts of the country at various times. There have been meetings in Massachusetts, in NYC, in San Francisco, in Chicago, in San Diego -- sometimes official, sometimes, very unofficial (as in the nonnekkid bloggers brunch. . . .) That site was in fact where I met Edwin, and got my whole life changed. I'm a HUGE believer in "virtual" friendships.
♥ | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 3/10/2007 8:57:39 PM | | The house with 'And a river runs through it' ? Can I come? | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 3/10/2007 9:01:03 PM | Congrats for your new thread dear Brizo...
may I?
"Say yes"
Not for your call I am waiting
but for that word leading beyond dating
Days went away and my petition is here again
with my words forming for you a golden chain
My heart like a shining necklace to a bride
is meant for you to carry with pride
Never before I dared to ask from you this deed
but know that without you my heart just bleed
Let not time and distance be your confusion
for only faith will lead you to the right conclusion
Of a simple word in its answer form be not afraid,
for once said, our bond with trust will be made
If ready your answer is then I hope for you to say yes,
then to the world our love we shall confess
---------------------------------------------------------------------
(C) 2007 - Ro. M. (Poet Friend) | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 3/10/2007 9:01:16 PM | Imagine: Brolga, Brizo, Ravin, and wooby, all in one room. Man, the amount of magik. . . .
WOW! | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 3/10/2007 9:04:25 PM | Imagine: Brolga, Brizo, Ravin, Wooby and me with them all in one room.
Man! the amount of lust!
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 3/10/2007 9:06:37 PM | Roberto, I hope she says YES!!
[edit: LOL!^^^^]
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 3/10/2007 9:15:43 PM | Poetfriend Of course you may! You have such exquisite manners....whomever you are asking in your poem, she's lucky to have you....
Does anyone know when is the pagan holiday when you wash your face with morning dew? Is that Beltaine? (sp) That is May 1st, Mayday, right? In the celtic legends, that is how Diedre tempted the prince.....
Forward December 14,2006
my life hopefully is ready to take flight
on wings by spirit fueled
breathless I release my kite
heart in throat while fate
and reason have their duel
LS | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 3/10/2007 9:20:33 PM | | You must write a poem with "He washed my face in morning's dew" | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 3/10/2007 10:09:44 PM | | Poet Friend, I've got the dust and the rust. | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 3/10/2007 11:02:10 PM | poems scattered about
in every drawer and old
book on the shelf
frustrations
divorce
children
lost loves
found loves
I wrote them all
some I would sooner forget
like the writing on the wall
pms definately is there
with the full moon
hiding on the stair
menopause not yet
i'm sure it will speak volumes yet
girl stuff tucked away
but when I read your poems
it brought it all back.
Poet Friend that was so romantic and hey I haven't seen a pic of the house with the river running through it. | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 3/10/2007 11:43:49 PM | Brolga well, I haven't got the bust..... hope you brought one.....
Autumn for me, the hype was worse than anything.....the rest was, dare I say it, anticlimactic.....I'm feeling very punny today......
Ravin I read the legend, and it didn't say anything about the dew, however, I found a way to include it, because it's very sensual........took me forevah.....
and, it's my party and I'll lie if I want to, lie if I want to, lie if I want to......
Deirdre 3/11/07
Her beauty was a legend from her birth
Cathbad the druid prophesied a war
to force three high born warriors from their hearth
all for her grey-green eyes and ruby hair
all this because Naoise saw her shining
washing her lovely face with morning dew
and ever after for her he was pining >>>>(this part is poetic liscense)
and so the fateful tale that would ensue
Conchobar had her brought up in seclusion
to marry him when she had come of age
but all his plans would come to no conclusion
when she eloped with handsome Naoise
His brothers sons of Uisnech with them fled
to Scotland, but they could never rest
the kings would kill to seek Deirde's bed
they hid upon an island they thought best
Conchobars trackers had their party found
deceitfully he welcomed them back home
safe conduct and an escort he sent round
then he sent spies upon the path they came
he asked if Deirdre's beauty had been lost
her nursemaid tried to save her and she lied
but Deirdres beauty still was Irelands boast
outnumbered, Naoise and his brothers died
Conchobar could not win fair Deirdres love
he gifted Naoises killer with her hand
but Deirdre managed still to rise above
and never did she wear the wedding band
Deirdre dashed her head against a rock
by leaning from her chariot aside
her death to Conchobar was a great mock
no longer was she anybodys bride
LS
okay, so it's not Yeats.........
VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV Will do the ballad thing.....hey, can I war a coconut bra? Then they can say I've got a lovely pair of coconuts...... | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 3/10/2007 11:51:45 PM | Oh Oh you must take it to the ballads thread! It needs more ballads!
Tea at Wooby’s
Songs sung by the river
Enthusiastic in it’s tumble down the mountains
Ever seeking the ocean of all awareness
Spun through the mysteries
Heartache and honesty bared
Nipples showing through bamboo t-shirt.
We need not wear bras here. | |
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| The POF Girl's Picnic!
Posted: 3/11/2007 7:50:53 AM | Bras and a bust
are running through here like the dust
kicked up behind a herd of buffalo
The women of POF, never backward, never slow,
Are out carousing, so
If we go down to the woods today,
We're in for a big surprise!
If we go down to the woods today,
We'd better go in disguise!
For every girl that ever there was
Will gather there for certain because
Today's the day the POF girls
Have their picnic!
If we go down to the woods today,
We better not go alone.
It's lovely down in the woods today
But safer to stay at home.
Picnic time for POF girls!
The little POF girls
Are having a lovely time today.
Watch them, catch them unawares
And see them picnic on their holiday
See them gaily gad about,
They love to play and shout
They never have any cares.
At six o'clock their mommies and daddies
Will take them home to bed
Because they're tired little POF girls! | |
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| I Washed My Face In The Morning Dew
Posted: 3/11/2007 10:52:07 AM | I Washed My Face In The Morning Dew
Tom T Hall
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The first strange town I was ever in
The county was hangin' a man
Nobody cared if he lived or died
And I just didn't understand
So I washed my face in the morning dew
Bathed my soul in the sun
Washed my face in the morning dew
And kept on movin' along
The second strange town I was in
They were laughing at a poor crippled man
Begging for nickels and dimes on the street
And I just didn't understand
The third strange town that I was in
Was settled, peaceful and nice
The rich got richer and the poor got poorer
And to me it just didn't seem right
So I washed my face in the morning dew
Bathed my soul in the sun
Washed my face in the morning dew
And kept on movin' along
Some day things are bound to change
It can't be very far
And each injustice I have seen
Will come before the bar
Then I'll wash my face in the morning dew
Bathe my soul in the sun
Wash my face in the morning dew
And keep on movin' along
.
!! | |
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| I Washed My Face In The Morning Dew
Posted: 3/11/2007 11:25:43 AM | Oh Jer you made me laugh. Wow you women.
Oh Wooby, I just so know we are going to have some great talks.
I am inspired to try the morning dew too.
I like this thread! Great poetry in here!
Painted landscapes of dreams
Eco through my memories
Leaving the taste of roses
On my senses
All defenses
Are down
I am back
In that kaleidoscope world
Of shimmering desire
Rumbling fire
Beneath the surface
Where he waits
Patient with purpose
On a bed of mossy green
Violet flowers poking through
With yellow heart centers in between
We love, we do
We love so right
We rut in the moonlight
That baths us in silver and blue
Igniting our skins into
An echo of each other
Taking us upward together
With the full magnetic force
Of moonmajic
It is tragic
For both of us,
This morning’s dawn
We know we belong
Yet cannot be
We have but this one memory.
As we hold each other securely in forever
Never
To forget
I watched him, intent in the morning light,
As he collected the rose petal offerings of the night
And with softest silk, of lavender hue
He washed my face, with the morning dew | |
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| I Washed My Face In The Morning Dew
Posted: 3/11/2007 12:06:20 PM | oh lovely Ravin.......and I love the word rut....
wooby, I will take the scarlet madman, my favorite facet of the penis......it's so odd that you posted the Tom T.Hall, which I absolutely loved. I was thinking of the pagan practice, and how cleansed I would feel if I participated. Do you think perhaps babtism echoes this? After all, paganism and mother religion came first, and Ireland converted St.Brigid from a celtic goddess.....
Jer If you sneak in, we'll just tell you stories. Unless you let us dress you up..... Jarod Leto looks mighty nice in eyeliner.......I saw him on MTV ....... Seriously, thanks for the poem.....
borrowed finery 12/19/2006
She hastily gathers up
the beautiful lent feathers
pheasant, peacock, phoenix and
bird of paradise
fixes them with wax
and soars
but not so high
as to melt the wax
by eclipsing
the sun
ls | |
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| I Washed My Face In The Morning Dew
Posted: 3/11/2007 12:10:28 PM | I remember being moved by that one the first time I read it.
Iccarus's sister.
Not famous
because she made it out alive.
I am Sooooo hanging out in your library, waitin for the poems to surface. | |
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