| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 11/4/2007 9:00:54 AM | Have we not come a long way?
my feet feel so tired
they burn
Should we not rest today?
the drive was hard wired
I'm concerned
Will we find that hidden side road?
the sign said its around the bend
somewhere near
Can you mannage that heavy load?
over work seems to be the trend
that's clear. | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 11/4/2007 11:13:39 AM | that's clear
as mud or as jello
one is dirt and water the other maybe marshmallow
I don't like the green lime with the carrot
but I do think he may be a fine fellow | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 11/5/2007 6:07:30 AM | but I do think he may be a fine fellow
though his distant demeanour appears rather shallow
and the hesitation before he speaks
makes him less understood, well except by the geeks
The impression he gives is that he plays for keeps
well that may give the weak livered the creeps.
The slight elongation of his iris looks strange
and those pointy eyebrows add to the derange
Yes there are mannerisms not quite fitting here
as if he dropped in from some other year
but he seems all right and we never have quarrelled
But then, I do know he is not from this world. | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 11/5/2007 7:19:05 AM | I do know he is not from this world
some things are so easy to deduce
as time shows its manicured pin curls
Emanuel Kant slowly produced
Earth and World separation thesis
not quite as easy to understand
while all around the fair grounds
a wandering stranger makes demands
Show me the way to win at this game
then I'll show you that I can
honestly play within some rule
I will gladly give you a hand
Now the people from local residence
took note and began to play
the stranger disappeared as fast as he came
while their money just few away
They walked the earth around that fair
but were not permanent in it world
that stranger to them was part of the play
an epiphany as the plot unfurled. | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 11/5/2007 11:07:16 AM | the plot unfurled.
As I was tasking my last shot
“A buck twenty five is all I got
Geez, I missed the eight ball
and now I lost the whole lot
Quick ending to this plot
 | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 11/5/2007 11:23:22 AM | Quick ending to this plot
That thickens like swine stew in aluminum pot
Greasy and rancid and not fit to consume
The kind of lies that lead us to doom
Like wars between corporations for control of our fate
Too many of us know now, and it’s not too late
“Imagine” he said and I quote him once more
“Nothing to kill or die for…” | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 11/5/2007 11:58:45 AM | “Nothing to kill or die for…”
Nah, every day I want more and more
I’m making road-kill stew in my rusty old pot
Found it discarded in the front of my lot
I’ll invite you over to share this fine feast
With enough veggies and spices
And blessed by the priest
You won’t even recognize this beast | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 11/5/2007 9:38:21 PM | You won’t even recognize this beast
how can you when your deceased
like that rabbit on the side of the road
no need to jump up, lock and load
its already turned to slush
there's nothing left to gush
just an abstract smear you saw
so close your mouth and jaw
get back to driving home
don't leave the kids alone
to long
its wrong | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 11/6/2007 4:52:39 AM | to long
its wrong
had enough
can't do much
I grin
I bear
had enough
I cry
I shout
can't go on
but must go on
had enough
can't do much
why me
why you
why us
is life fair
maybe
maybe not | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 11/6/2007 8:31:59 AM | Hi...me again...
bin away photographing away...LOL...
K
maybe not
the whole enchilot
maybe jus the jalapeno
or...
or...
maybe the beens
Don know why I get the jitters
every time I see time making out
in fritters the p outs
beginnin to shout...
'oh my'...
Kay I see I'm rusty
I want to get close to you
and hold hands
My poem is real | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 11/6/2007 9:17:29 PM | My poem is real
My life is made up
I didn’t make it
I do the steering
I try to go
Slow over bumps
I try to avoid
Collusions on this road
It’s such a hectic ride
I can’t take my eyes
Off the road so wild
I stop now and then
When the lights go red
I wait and wait
Till I can go again
On such a big wild road
so far I’ve endured Crashes and all
Crashes of souls, crashes of hearts
Zigzagging about
Life is a puzzle
It’s such a big puzzle
But one thing is for sure
You’ll never know
When you’ll arrive
At your destination, fate
Life is a puzzle
It’s a hectic ride
Don’t close your eyes
Keep them wide open
For
Life is a puzzle
It’s a hectic ride | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 11/8/2007 4:11:47 PM | It’s a hectic ride
without some peptide
having a place to reside
or a big water slide
Keeping track of the kids
especially that Sid
seems to always be hid
not doing my bid
We skid around so many corners
the truth gets lost with the mourners
melencholy as little Jack Horner
do you think I really should warn her | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 11/8/2007 6:51:13 PM | Do you think I really should warn her
Don’t you think she has a clue
Do you think she is out of touch
Like the woman who lived in a shoe
Out of touch, that can’t be true
But why did she keep on kidding
Was the stork working over-time
When you have enough kinder
To fill up a very big shoe
She was in very close touch
To cuddle snuggle and such
then have plenty of time
To raise them all up
 | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 11/8/2007 8:45:26 PM | To raise them all up
Has been a hard job
You teach them about life
But they take it with strife
Now they are older and it seems
None lived up to my dreams
For them. I feel let down
Like a fool or a clown
Like paliazo, I cry
Without them I get by
But barely see
One out of three
Family isn't what it used to be | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 11/9/2007 7:26:29 AM | Family isn't what it used to be
just like the seas that shrink or grow
who knows where when or how
a cow will evolve into that new thing
we may not want to bring home
so...
we eat it there and write at Christmas
its only a small part of man
who was able to command distance and time
in lines that let us bind
when family has divided
old cultures subsided
then grew like yeast with a new priest or priestess
carving the carnage or mess of distress
those long journeys into new worlds
create or impress on the survivors
though its never to late to write again
without some McGuivers
not many for long were alive
unlike then
now most still survive | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 11/9/2007 11:25:07 AM | now most still survive although their own families have multiplied
and the table just doesn’t fit everyone and you jam in another leaf
so including spouses, children, grandchildren, aunts and uncles
and the crazy neighbour who doesn’t have any other place to go
party crashing kids without homes
the table can only expand so far
Thanksgiving and Christmas, Easter
his side or her side this time? Do they all get along
or should you just shut the door and say no!
Sit quietly sipping eggnog by the fire and watching Scrooge
all cuddled up under a blanket
with the kids out visiting and Granny asleep
the cat snores peacefully on the ottoman
and we look at each other and smile that knowing look
when we are alone and enjoying the company. | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 11/9/2007 7:08:01 PM | when we are alone and enjoying the company. It was like that
When first I layed down
With
Him
Always like we were all
alone
Nothing
could
Nothing
could change that. | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 11/9/2007 9:03:27 PM | Always like we were all alone
Nothing could
Nothing could change that.
Then there was pounding on the door
The phone began to jingle
Had to grab your clothes
You lost that G-spot tingle
They are gonna break in
And catch you in sin
You couldn’t follow
him out the window
Cause you’re not that thin
Panic sets in
How did you get caught
up in this scheme
You start to scream
Then he shook you awake
Aren’t you glad
it was just a dream
 | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 11/10/2007 1:51:10 AM | it was just a dream that said
omg what a night!!!!!
I have worked out where I went wrong...I went to Riverside instead of Riverbank....yeah I did that sober lol(and it is worse...every time I asked for directions it was a male who pointed me to the "right" direction...excuses are whose fault)?
Even the bouncer at the door did not argue with me...I had no members card and told him all my friends were in there...he let me in...some men are just suckers for blondes? I am never changing my colour again....blondes do have more fun
nevermind, I did not have to fake I had a lovely night, hope you did too
the goddess replied...
where is that???? AS long as you had a good time one the guys asked me to give your description and I told him you are blond so whatever blond went passed he asked; is she the one?? so most of the night we all had a good laugh waiting for you and him pointing out at all blonds.
Have fantastic weekend | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 11/10/2007 9:14:48 AM | have a fantastic weekend
highlight it
with magic mark-er
when murky 
root a toot toot... without a hoot
make a snake
path through it
belly on board  | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 11/10/2007 10:48:46 AM | Belly on board
Baby in the back
Mom and Dad
Take turns at the wheel
Brother and Sister
Are once again playing
"I'm not touching you"
Till Dad loses his cool
And Mom takes a swat
"I'll turn this car around
If you don't knock it off"
Is heard throughout the trip
But you know it will never happen
Ah the memorable joyous moments
Of yet another seemingly endless
Saturday morning drive
With the ones we love most
To the local Sears in town
If only to buy Coats and boots
Winter is coming you know
So don't forget your mittens | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 11/10/2007 3:07:04 PM | So don't forget your mittens
was what my mother would say
As I went out the door
dress warm for winter's play
You can fool yourself
but not Jack Frost
is a clever elf
and we don't want your fingers frozen off
It was always don't forget...
Now as I pull on my glove
It really wasn't about fingers
It was about love
| |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 11/10/2007 3:22:42 PM | It was about love
It always is
Every lifetime ever lived
It’s not about jobs nor art nor song
It’s always for love
And that is not wrong
We have a destiny yet to fulfill
And we do not hesitate, nor wait until
But taste it and hold it and ride it to shore
It’s our seventh wave
And babe I want more. | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 11/11/2007 6:32:36 AM | And babe I want more
More of your voice, your touch
are butterflies good?
I feel them flutter...yet I can't stop myself
Wanting to touch your cheek
run my hands down your chest
as I kiss your lips, the ones that
have told me beautiful things
Making me want to be there
tonight...holding you close
wrapped in your arms, wanting you
to touch me there, oh, and there
I want to smell the salt air
drifting through your window
as I wake with you beside me
as the sound of the ocean reaches us
Sweeps us away in a tide of longing...
the small things we have both missed...
more than anything in the world...
Knowing...we are no longer alone.... | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 11/11/2007 8:57:00 AM | Knowing...
we are no longer alone....
we touch
anchor reality
hearts come home
grateful incredulity
fellow soul
hold fast our hand
withstand
the passage
through life's foundry
family love and labor
bitterness and favor
journey bittersweet
until we reach
the boundary | |
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