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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 6/10/2007 7:01:21 PM | this is for you, young lady, in case you actually see this......oh, who am I kidding, you never read my stuff.....
An adult who needs a spankin (smelvin)
Because it costs alot per box
cracklin bran is a special treat
not inexpensive like raisin bran
or frosted mini wheats
but I talked myself into a box
and placed it in my pantry
and opened it to eat tonight
when I was feeling hungry
imagine my displeasure
as I opened up the box
to find someone had been there first
all sneaky, like a fox
they cut the corner off the bag
and left it just like that
not folded over like they should
I knew it was my brat
a good thing I decided
to have cereal for my supper
I would have had to drive to town
and find my brat and whup her
and she ate alot of cocoa
in the package, with a spoon
that girl can eat some things I swear
to make normal people swoon
and then she lay upon the couch
and drifted off to sleep
and left the grandkids run around
and move sticks off the heap
and the boys were grounded anyway
because they'd been caught stealing
so they weren't supposed to be outside
no matter how tired she was feeling
so now they have to come back out
and pick up sticks again
this happened when I was at work
I wasn't feeling zen
and there were toys all over
she pretended not to see
though how she could have missed them
is beyond all that to me
and everyone knows better
and knows to show respect
Or I will come into their room
and mess it all to heck
(not really, but they don't know that)
yes, visiting is wonderful
but not when you're not home
the next time that they use my place
they better straighten it up some
Mom ©LS 6/10/07 | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 6/10/2007 7:34:55 PM | two quasi-random thoughts:
- there's nothing like a redhead!! (maybe i'm biased?? especially CURLY red hair. )
- i'm taking muse credit for "freeze"
and, now, to the meat...i can't help myself...i'm a child of my era, and this is what mr. ed brings to mind for me... (in no way a reflection upon your "mr ed" - - 'cause, ya know, we each get only ONE first love).
"Mister Ed "
A horse is a horse, of course, of course,
And no one can talk to a horse of course
That is, of course, unless the horse is the famous Mr. Ed.
Go right to the source and ask the horse
He'll give you the answer that you'll endorse.
He's always on a steady course.
Talk to Mr. Ed.
People yakkity yak a streak and waste your time of day
But Mister Ed will never speak unless he has something to say.
A horse is a horse, of course, of course,
And this one'll talk 'til his voice is hoarse.
You never heard of a talking horse?
Well listen to this. I am Mister Ed.
("Mister Ed" by Ray Evans and Jay Livingston)
and now this song has supplanted "mighty thor" in my head, where it will, no doubt, continue to play for quite some time... | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 6/10/2007 8:34:28 PM | I haven't even looked at the hershey's syrup yet, but I have the mental image of her sucking on the bottle.... I do love her, she knows it.....but sleeping for hours and leaving five kids run around is insane.....but in her defense, her hair is actually blond.......
you can take muse credit for most of these, since they went in your thread first....
and last, but not least, that is why we called him "Mr. Ed" - we would even sing the theme song to tease him. Well, once I did call him Ed, Ed stupidhead....but I was mad. and he wasn't my first love, but he was the best...... 
humormonger
ms. S, you make me laugh a lot
with songs that play inside your head
I imagine you dressed in a suit
while going mad from "Mr. Ed"
I'm glad I wandered to your thread
and I enjoy our conversations
I began to post to yours instead
when my former muse had complications
and now I like to post in both
procrastinating twice as much
tackling lists of chores I loathe
much rather post my poems and such | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 6/10/2007 8:42:42 PM | I have so many things to do
dishes to wash and laundry too
Been away at work all day
and when I come home I like to play
My excuse for being on line
is I'm in the midst of e-mail negotiations, fine?
So while I wait for the next one to bore'im
I'm here writing poetry on Brizos forum.
Any excuse for poetry eh? | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 6/10/2007 8:54:38 PM | But Ravin gal I'm glad you're here
it keeps my butt glued to my chair
not getting done the stuff I must
like mopping floors and tackling dust
I'm just a very naughty lass
and love to sit upon my a*s*s
and think of clever things to say
who cares for dishes, anyway?
  | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 6/10/2007 11:12:08 PM | I use to be so diligent at spring cleaning
especially when I was a stay at home mom
lately though I seem to put it off
and spend my alone time writing poetry
it's more fun
yesterday I finally tackled the livingroom
one step at a time and it doesn't seem like work
the cat thought I had gone crazy and gave me that look of hers
the livingroom is her bedroom and she hates
all the fuss and commotion
when she wants to sleep
it smells so nice in there now
and I can tell the cat apart from the dust bunnies
a fresh shampooed sofa
I can see the piano again and hopefully will get it tuned
maybe even take the lessons I have been putting off
one tiny step can lead to a miracle. | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 6/11/2007 3:29:21 AM | oohhh at last
i've found the chat
to join in and have a spat
of dustbunnies, dishes and all that
blimey girls leave all the guilt trips behind
lifes too short for cleaning and gleaming and stuff
lets go and have some fun a meal a drink and then a puff | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 6/11/2007 6:07:48 AM | Dear, dear Brizo, so sorry about your divorce, and how those years were hard on you, especially when you loved the man.
Here is my only poem I put in the end of mine marriage, just a year ago. Put as a tomb stone and said "Amen".
Love from Tall, always.
Post-Divorcem
Alas, no more
in blustering abandonment
the poem stares at you with innocently gooey lines,
yet just enough for the foundation.
Dry, square, unwieldy
she became.
It's her earth settle down journey.
The dreams - fast moving gleeful gibberish,
where in pivot the ticklish shine befalls
from glued all over her tin-gilded stars -
already left her. Now
her noble nights stand still, unwitnessed, told no-one.
She stays and stays,
she lingers
in nip of narrow corner
within elaborately stormy bed,
raw undiscovered continent. She whispers.
Prayers?
The matron of homely arts
she is no more, alas.
In crude earth science of mass wasting - rocks on rocks -
imposed upon her head the immodest mastery.
Mortification happened quick yet noiseless,
neat as pin
for nail-less hands. It's time.
A well matured matrictomy is over. Was she saved
or safe for herself, can we ask?
Her pillow -
oh thus betrayal of the document,
smells of a smudged lipstick,
morning sun-dried tears
and something like
a sour dough of self raising, laboured breathing,
that trivial intoxicating misery -
stitched, lived through, used-by-date, clobber unwanted.
Fertile de-composition cells and nerves.
She follows chewing gum days
crowned by the mean protocol of sober morning,
sometimes.
The grief, a cast-iron hand, weighs down throbbing flesh.
What can be built out of that?
Her hard-core survival?
One of many. Stories and stories to tell
of prolonged silences
with oh so predictable and open endings.
Who is for listening near her to stay
among the echoes?
Just to cover crossed proud forehead
with finest black of silk
and start
undying crackly fire
in the gap of icy stove. Alongside
dog in waiting
catches her every thrown glimpse.
The clocks of house on the eleventh hour
by her parched hand
are silenced | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 6/11/2007 6:29:40 AM | So loving the commraderie in here....women banning against cleaning and that poetry should be tackled or created in it's place  , count me in!
Those laundry baskets never seem to go away
keep filling up
each and every day
sometimes I just say it will keep
into poetry forums
I enter with a creep
hours later after I did play
my eyes lean over to that machine
sadly yes they make their way
yet not for long
for again those poetic words
begin flowing like a song
there's enough clean to wait another day
girl's let's write so rhyme
continue our play! | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 6/11/2007 5:28:07 PM | fortunately it's just me here, or there would be soooome mess.....though there was Saturday after smelvin left, that's why I was so annoyed. I actually had to do some work!
To all my ladies of the pen, Ravin, Messy, Autumn, Wicked and Tall, thank you for the contributions, and the pat on the back for my procrastination....soon I will be awarded the merit of slothfulness.....
Tall, I did love him, but it was me who initiated the divorce, and it hit him pretty hard...I guess he thought I was bluffing.....still, I remember I was in the courthouse, and he tried to talk to me, but I was crying, and I continued to cry all day....it just felt like such a failure, and I had put ten years into it.....
****************************************************************************
the mailbox
If I were sensible
it should have been
the gun threats
but it was the mailbox
I had labeled
with our last name
dizzy with land lust
and wifely dreams
the cold water shock
of your unguarded words
after ten years
"I'm not ready
to make that kind
of commitment"
I almost died
of hypothermia
that moment I knew...
I moved it
to Ohio
after our divorce
gave it away
tremulously
and broke down
afterwards
the mailbox
would look nice
out here......
should have
kept it
LS 6/02/07
REM's, Pensky's | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 6/11/2007 5:31:31 PM | and remembering a different man, who would never believe that I loved him, but I did......
bass
to prevent the apnea
from shortening your life
and in the attempt
to bring me sleep
(I know you never spoke it,
but I knew)
you underwent the surgery
painful
but necessary
I didn't tell you then
because it was a woman's wish
and you are more
than
sound
but I listened
as you healed
for the deep
rumbling
bass
of the voice
I fell
in love
with
revealed
©LS 4/22/07
daily poet, unfinished business | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 6/11/2007 5:34:04 PM | I never loved this one.....but he did open up my musical boundaries some....
song trigger
color me blue
music came on
and reminded me
of someone
I once knew
who went back to
his woman who
was no good
but memory is true
and brings me thoughts
to view
I never loved him
true
but I can never hear
that song
without remembering
him
when it was new
LS 2/27/07
Om's | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 6/11/2007 8:35:09 PM | tasmanian devils
watching tasmanian devils
and their noisy, vicious revels
Bella laughing on my lap
at the way they run their yap
snarling, howling and screeching
several decibels they're reaching
as they growl at their handlers
and we giggle at their tempers
Ls 6/12/07 | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 6/11/2007 9:20:35 PM | ahhhh the devil made her write it! hahaha Now we get it! hehehehe,... 
It's sort of odd. Sometimes with certain friends threads I have to wait to jump on. Not that I do not feel welkome, but rather the topic or pace or general feel just does not merit the eccenticities that often flood my brian. It's sort of like being a child and several of your friends at the playground have the Merri-go-round spinning pretty fast. There's like that odd one or two kids who continue as it spins to push with their feet to keep it spinning faster and fasted as if trying to slingshot the rest of the kids off of the darn contraption. And as it races past you keep glancing at that one open brace inviting you to try to grab on and jump onto the wheel of death without dislocating your arm little one! Go ahead,.... you can do it!
Well now that you have a Tasmanian devil posting I am jumping for the open rung! Hahahaha,... well here's one for you.
- BULLSNAKE ON THE PATH ( to enlightenment? ) -
While walking through the bushes
A sound to scare things off
The deep hiss of a serpent
Like stating with a cough
"I'm here and I am deadly!
So dont you dare come close!"
But reared and loud the Bullsnake
Is one I like the most!
So using a branch softly
I slide it under body
This serpent is so beautiful
It's colours almost gaudy!
My friends all back away in fear
As fierce he tries to act
But Erik knows his serpents well
Bulls love to use this tact
For their gollotis makes them loud
And true their bite is strong
But mainly they are bluffing snakes
And that act is not long
Within a moment he calms down
And now I use my hand
To hold him close and look at him
Though some dont understand
The gentle nature of this beast
That grips my heart and mind
It is not evil nor a foe
Such myths I cast behind
For once it knows that I'm no threat
It crawls on arms with ease
I do not try restricting it
But let it move as please
And everyone is quite amazed
At just how nice it seems
Though only minutes ago they
All fought to quell their screams
And after answering some friends
With questions on their mind
I let him go back on the path
And leave this snake behind
So silent graceful he departs
As others look with wonder
Magnificent all natures beings
The secrets that they sunder!
- Erik -  | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 6/12/2007 6:30:02 PM | I think snakes are beautiful, but the poisonous ones have frightening eyes....
You are welcome whenever you want, with whatever you want to post. You have always been a frequent visitor, right from the start, and this place wouldn't be the same without you....
the way to join the merry go round when it's going that fast is to jump on and grab the top bars and hang squatting, until your body gets used to the centrifugal force, then you can move inside if you want....(I was a playground expert back in the day)
****************************************************************************
the next few are a trio of social commentary......
empty
emotions can send us reeling
as mankind searches for feeling
trying to connect our occupation
to our daily lives, and integration
but what we do is mass produce
and shop for things we will not use
our daily lives are empty shells
of acquisition that impels
and decimates our inner worth
we need a spiritual rebirth
©LS 4/13/07
first, last, rory's | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 6/12/2007 6:31:05 PM | ransack
And love is but a word that causes confliction
in a world that's rife with contradiction
we espouse charity to those in need
in reality society rewards for greed
television pays big bucks for betrayal
while we callously watch the portrayal
this heartless world causes minds to crack
souls flutter empty from moral ransack
LS 4/18/07
Ravin's | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 6/12/2007 6:33:02 PM | old ways
How will we measure
what no longer exists?
by the longing in our heart
instinct is sharp
and wild ways
old ways
are never
completely
buried
LS 2/10/07
Ravin's patchworking for the mother | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 6/12/2007 7:21:54 PM |
our daily lives are empty shells
of acquisition that impels
and decimates our inner worth
we need a spiritual rebirth
I can very much relate to those words.........simple truth really.
Just stopping in...rhymer is lost somewhere in this cloudly mind tonight....... | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 6/12/2007 7:38:57 PM | Hi wicked......my mind is on empty......fortunately I have a poetic stockpile......
*****************************************************************************
global village
and I was there
in front of the tv
when Robert and Martin
were shot
watching when Neil made
one giant leap for mankind
and the the Berlin wall was torn down
watching musicians raise millions for famine
and when the towers burned
and the tsunami struck
knowing millions were
crying with me
I felt
the pulse of humanity
in our global village
LS 5/30/07
first, last and Abstract Rhythms | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 6/12/2007 8:07:21 PM | and I was not there
in front of the TV
when Robert and Martin
were shot
I must of been out
playing
street hockey
like boys
will play
a lot
or maybe I was
at the swimming pool
just at the end of my street
who knows
what I was doing
back then
but the play
and girls
were neat
oh, some kids just don't want to grow up...:-/ | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 6/12/2007 9:37:39 PM | it was about the only time I was allowed in front of the TV......my stepdad hogged it to watch wrestling, then to rub salt in the wound, he'd fall asleep.......or so we thought. The instant we tried to change the channel he would open one eye and tell us to get the hell away from the TV...... I was grounded a lot anyway, so no TV....but grandma would let me watch, and she thought herself an excellent TV repairman and reception coordinator....... armed with tinfoil and a screwdriver....
***************************************************************************
los angeles in waiting
if you met them in the street
would you recognize
angels
do they look like
saviors
or disguised
as needy humanity
going despised
by our rushing world
on it's way to make
a dollar
wanting to help
but having to holler
at the next guy
can you help him please
business has us on our knees
punching time clocks
ethics go unrewarded
and unguarded hearts
make human fodder
while attempting to live
in a way that matters
cruel, cruel world
rushes on
while angels reside
by our side
waiting for
Jacob's ladder
LS 6/07/07
first, last and Erik's | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 6/12/2007 10:23:11 PM | MLK
i remember that day
quite vividly
august 1968
in a hotel
in atlanta
on a house-hunting expedition
advised to stay inside
because of riots in the streets
due to a man being killed
watching the special reports
seeing violence unimagineable
to six year old eyes
and wondering
what it all meant | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 6/13/2007 4:50:16 PM | Hey S.....I was very young and didn't really understand all of it.......my mother was so upset, she rarely cried but I saw her cry those days.....
So much we take for granted nowadays, but really when you think about it, that's how far we've progressed. We think nothing of interracial relationships , but just 50 years ago "colored people" had to use a different drinking fountain ! Women were just beginning to work outside the home in full force, and use birth control, we were just coming into our own.
Today, it's immigrants and same sex preferences that are being discriminated against and need equality.......
***************************************************************************
stop the ride
To find a different way?
Many have set about
trying to simplify
and become mindful
to reduce their footprint
but the world spins
dizzyingly
and sometimes
the only respite
is to live
like your ancestors
go camping
and earn peace
gazing into the fire
first, last and Patchworking Lines for the Mother | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 6/14/2007 3:09:57 PM | my daughter made a bid on a house today. She is a first time home buyer....keep your fingers crossed for her, won't you?
reasons why
There are many reasons why
I'm proud of you
contained within this poem,
I'll name a few
I know you have uncommon
common sense
I knew that spring
a breakup would commence
though every other person
doubted you
I knew you stayed
until your bond was through
because you gave your word
and you would try
till every bit of love you felt
had died
you lost your cats in such
a nasty way
I would have got revenge
later that day
and when I saw you breaking down
to cry
I must admit I wanted her
to die
there were so many losses
in your life
Was hard to watch you living
through the strife
But there was hidden strength
you had reserved
Although your life was not
what you deserved
you honed your body with
diet and exercise
and didn't fall for any
lover's lies
you turned your dismal finances
around
through working hard and sticking to
your ground
the joy within you surfacing
once more
it's a pleasure watching light come
to the fore
because your life was hard I know
you'll win
and never live another lie
again
LS 6/14/07
thank you Wooby , she's a good girl and works hard for what she has.....goes with very little sleep sometimes, but I help her if I can.
VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 6/14/2007 3:31:49 PM | | Fingers all crossed, and a little white witchery your direction ♥ | |
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