| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 8/2/2009 11:57:34 PM | more than you expect
Lest you direct
poetry falls on floor
when told what to wear
Scribes have scribbled
Their Hair loose and greasy
Their stench stifling
the persnickity
Tense old and rickety
biting the crotchety
with fangs that rip
through their own lip
to bleed for
that ever aloof reader | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 8/3/2009 12:07:48 AM | that ever-aloof reader
he hurts if you heckle his heater
but meet him someday
and he'll say 'namaste'
to his Mom cuz he wants you to meet her. | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 8/3/2009 4:36:30 PM | he wants you to meet her
in silence
desiring spontaneous unpretentious peace
a hesitant inquisition
can no expectations survive
more silence
the clock refuses to advance
perspiration forms as the crack begins to widen
can now meet then before patience shatters
a pounding rush of blood through his ear canal reawakens cautious tension
too early to tell
silence creates strange smells inside unwanted spells of faint doubt
a pin drops
the clock slowly moves back into a regular rhythm
he hears the jukebox shutter
just then
when a cool breeze crosses the room
light flickers with a closing door
once more
silence before the storm
Hey.... she says ...
just as that booming rock pounds past his senses
screams erupt from the corner table
laughter and shattered glass
a broken moment
she will always remember
that night they first met
Dancing fools and Joan Jet | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 8/3/2009 5:20:11 PM | that night they first met
dancing fools and Joan Jet
like falling with Alice
without any malice
she had spoken
and suddenly
he was returning
from a place
where time had frozen
like the twilight zone
time and space overthrown
where nothing
and everything
made sense
in the silence | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 8/3/2009 5:32:42 PM | Dancing fools and Joan Jett
Have no more time for black hearts
Theirs rhythmically begin to beat
When the wild night music starts
Repressed feelings suddenly decloak
And rational thoughts dissolve in smoke
(late again)
------------------------------------------------------
in the silence
of the forest
eyes are watching
ears listening
deep stillness
deeper fears | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 8/4/2009 11:54:52 AM | deeper fears
with which I wrestle
while trying not
to rock the vessel
blinders on
help a tad
to look on past
that that's bad
what now matters
what does not
should I pick
the forget-me-not
or let it grow
in its rightful place
instead of wilting
in a vase
wiling time
with ponderous schemes
it is not always
as it seems | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 8/4/2009 12:04:07 PM | as it seems
time can vanish
that balance beam
worse than Spanish
leaning to crawl
after he walks
in the market stall
a strange black box | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 8/4/2009 12:16:05 PM | a strange black box
on my doorstep today
I looked up the street
then the other way
no clues to its origin
no note to be found
but a trail of drops
leading back cross the ground
a waft of her perfume
I thought I could smell
was it from her
how could I tell
I took it inside
laid it down on the table
and tried to pry it open
but was completely unable
as I sat back to ponder
it gave me a start
when it suddenly opened
and revealed her heart | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 8/4/2009 10:04:38 PM | revealed her heart
in the form of her sacred art
a special gift she had bestowed on me
worth a fortune monetarilly
but that meant nothing to me
compared to the incredible beauty
rising in me from its energy
and not surprisingly she knew exactly
which gift would mean the most to me | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 8/5/2009 11:40:44 AM | Which gift would mean the most to me,
Of all the gifts that nature strews,
Wealth or power or liberty?
There are so many one might choose,
But from the rest just one stands tall,
The gift of friendship transcends all. | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 8/6/2009 10:46:55 AM | The gift of friendship transcends all
Hurrah to the writer for that making that call
Tis finer than silver or gold
A true gift that won't tarnish or grow old
Like a marriage of hearts
that no object can depict
Tis true friendship that makes love stick | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 8/7/2009 2:11:00 AM | tis true friendship that makes love stick
tis love that makes true friendship tick
like the beating of the eternal heart
love is the essence we can not part
love is the key to our humanity
love is what opens our minds
and strengthens our body
for love unlocks our blocks
melting the ice within our hearts | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 8/9/2009 7:37:31 AM | within our hearts
there is a garden
and a table
set
for only one
a private place
in which to pardon
our mistakes
and heal
to reaffirm
our love of self
and grow
toward the sun | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 8/9/2009 10:28:42 AM | And grow
Towards the sun
The tiny steeple of love
Born too soon
Accepted by the world
As a miracle
Now lays cocooned in her Mother’s arms
Taking her last breath
And those that cry
Don’t understand
Why she was not meant
For this world
Too young to die. | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 8/9/2009 12:24:52 PM | Too young to die
Twisted and blurred
As life is but a mist
Denied to the blatantly opened fist
Too lazy
I tend to reminisce
Denying myself the living
Denying myself the joy
As running away from pain
As if there was nothing to be gained
Too young to die
Too fearful of the living
And it’s bloody fountain spring
Too young to die
And yet from living I come a little shy
And yet the chicken isn’t spry
Too young for giving up
I’ve lost my sense of play
Welcome to grayness
That cloudy calm
T’is but another day | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 8/9/2009 12:51:48 PM | T’is but another day
I heard the old man say
I just had to look his way
how could he say that
so he fritters it away
thinking he too old to play
and the children run away
glad they're not where he's at
should he look inside his soul
he'd see we n'er have to grow old
if that's what you were told
need to reformat
cause if you forget how to live
life is but sand through a sieve
and you become just as passive
as an old doormat | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 8/9/2009 1:57:51 PM | passive as an old doormat
the friendless fainters martyr themselves
step by step, smooth and slow
fearing the sting of the mob
who came for the stoning show
but with freedom i turned my back
rejecting the master's call
to join in their Calvary
treading an unworn path
walking my ridgeline
howling at the moon with houndish revelry | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 8/9/2009 4:34:35 PM | howling at the moon with houndish revelry
lifting our hearts to her glow
bathed in her brilliant energy
never wanting to let go | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 8/9/2009 5:38:56 PM | never wanting to let go
never say goodbye
never more tears
never more to cry
never more pain or heartache to come
never more horror
as brothers & sisters we are one
(hi rosie!) | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 8/9/2009 7:58:29 PM | as brothers & sisters we are one
no more alone
no more in fear
we walk the path enlightened
helping others being happy
forever joint in arms
we share in utopist society
joint in our goals
with the presence off helping hands
as brothers & sisters we are one
as brothers & sisters we are free | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 8/9/2009 9:24:32 PM | as brothers & sisters we are free
united we find liberty
joined in heritage once lost
forgotten the price and cost
We fill the market bought and sold
Reclaim each other now, take hold
A partner, companion new or old
Friends need not hide speak bold | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 8/9/2009 11:14:24 PM | Friends need not hide, speak bold,
For friends do not friends judge,
Nor leave each other cold,
When neither one will budge!
Whatever friends may face,
They will stand side by side,
And wherever the place,
They have no need to hide.
Rare as hens' teeth, I'm told,
True friends are as gold. | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 8/10/2009 10:12:03 AM | True friends are as gold to the greedy
in the end weather old or needy
we're willing to spend time slow or speedy
while overlooking the chips and cracks
its really no sweat off yer back
they may like to live in a shack
or stack beer cans into strange formations
they may even forget about invitations
barge right into your intimate scenes
invade every form of morning dreams
cross the rivers you flood in rage
laughing you over to the next page | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 8/10/2009 5:24:10 PM | laughing you over to the next page
turn a new leaf and forget the rage
last chapter is over, it sucked but it's gone
time to start writing another one
once upon a glimmering pond in the wood
there a little pig-tailed girl stood
supported by only a small lilly pad
with a wand to wave away everything bad
sprinkled with sunlight dappled by shade
with dimples highlighted by smiles she made
gone are the warted and evil and cruel
a gold and green aura surrounded her pool
and the creatures that came to sip at the edge
were sworn to take a solemn pledge
that whomsoever should abide by the frog at her side
would at once recognize who was captured inside
twas the prince of darkness rendered unto a toad
and to give it a kiss was strictly forbode | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 8/10/2009 6:39:45 PM | and to give it a kiss was strictly forbode
would a lick be out of the question?
I glance at the bounty that nature bestowed
and the shadow cast by its reflection  | |
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