| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 8/28/2007 5:09:13 AM | that my instinct was so
far and out as we toured about
who could really know
inside that shout history could doubt
the winds blow warm in that desert daze
with fires and fools spinning in that craze
a wicker man stands true and tall
until the final call
the winds blow cold in that desert night
screaming dances feel just right
witches waving wands of flame
at the annual festival from a party game
yes some ancient rite reflects
in names and images we kind a respect
with drunken laughter throughout the dawn
cars are dressed up so the party goes on
some would think we're just a bunch of Pagans
but damn I miss my big little Meaghen
and my dog that went and passed on
so now I’m gonna sing a blues song | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 8/28/2007 8:25:53 AM | (I shall follow you this time thorb  )
So now I'm gonna sing a blues song
it will mix with the sound of the phone
ringing its mournfull cry
ahhh..it's only someone wanting money
I will have my 97% everything free
cornflakes for breakfast
wonder if they will have a taste?
I might even add skim milk?
I sip my coffee, full of caffiene
full cream milk and sugar
take my vitamins to replace
the 97% everything thats not in the cornflakes
And I smile, amused by why someone would think
my wasted body would need anything fat free?
I remember the eclipse last night
and the wonder of it still lingers.... | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 8/28/2007 9:28:25 AM | Distant door
open unto dawn
awaken awareness
and banish the doubt
that lurks in the midnight dream.
Been here before
when all I do is wrong
and in all fairness
it is never about
what it may, in the darkness seem. | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 8/28/2007 9:49:51 AM | what it may in the darkness seem
is an ogre from your dream
the one that chased you round about
the one that fetched your head a clout
but in the reality of day it is clear
the ogre's a symbol of your fear
so figure what the ogre represents
and of your dream you'll make some sense
that's not to say they'll go away
for some fears haunt the path you'll stay
as the choice that makes life worthwhile
is bound to involve fear and trial
following your heart's best dream
brings the nightmares, it would seem | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 8/28/2007 1:33:07 PM | Silence brings the nightmares, it would seem
Not the Silence in the room
But the silence in ones heart as they imagine
Looking out over the moors of the empty fields
Of ones lonely toil only to be greeted
By The scurry of the rat Freezing
Only enough coal to warm the close huddle of one
Only enough time to dream of two
For a little time today
For not enough energy to hold the buckets
knuckles frozen and bleeding
just trying to keep up
Now that i've met you I couldn't imagine
A day without you having enough meaning
What could one conjour That could hold such joy
In sickness and in health the joy of us
That quells the silence that brings on the nightmare
Of a lonely embrace without your breath to sustain
crazyliling | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 8/28/2007 11:39:39 PM | nightmare of a lonely embrace
without your breath to sustain
is something I may one day face
though I now tremble at the pain
time rushes by so very fast
a sign of happiness they say
but already summer's passed
at least we valued every day
nightmare, my dear, will never do
our hearts are making one from two
who I am includes all of you
and who you are includes me too
when one is gone here's what we'll do
the one remaining will hold the two | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 8/29/2007 1:47:57 AM | the one remaining will hold the two
with nightmares comes the dirty dreams
they hit you during the day
an overwhelming feeling
come what may
I let it wash all over me
bathe in it's waters sweet
my hand in yours forever
at your head I see my feet
I will succumb to danger
invite it through my door
for nightmares are a perfect sign
of what my love is for
Yes I would live and die for love
looking down on all below
giving light and sustanance
helping things to grow
but not afraid to venture
where the wary dread to go | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 8/29/2007 7:06:44 AM | where the wary dread to go
lives that army of unseen darkness
microbial foe waiting for a chance
to dance across scratched and torn uniforms
infecting minds with nanodoses
so closs to the core of design
winding when unable to bind in such a fine line
chemical soup boils in times of desperation
tried without success or admiration
so many young hearts start on this journey
down under the streets before knowing
signs are already showing before the gurney comes
to roll off with another one
blocked lungs or swollen tongue
old and young alike
its a bit scary without daylight at noon
in thoses tunnels of sewage and gloom | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 8/29/2007 12:55:44 PM | in those tunnels of sewage and gloom
Our “Hero” the man from “Dirty Jobs”
dons a gas mask not a moment too soon
“Not my cup of tea” while your sipping your beer
To get splattered and tattered looking quite queer
Don’t plan to volunteer me, not me ever my dear | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 8/29/2007 12:57:48 PM | in those tunnels of sewage and gloom
lie the darkest murkiest beasts
lie the dankest harbingers of doom
preying on their feasts
beware o traveller the too true view
the sight that isnt real
their words are meant to lull you
to confuse your mind and steal
but if you travel underground
to seek out what is true
dont let yourself be bound
by the waste they throw at you.
heaving, weaving lies and guilt
mixed with truth and stats
learn to sift among the silt
and figure out the facts. | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 8/29/2007 5:46:59 PM | ~~~ a patchwork of sorts
not me ever, my dear
don’t you remember?
I had a bad fall
and never recovered.
have a look at my chart
figure out the facts
it was you who pushed me
out of your heart | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 8/29/2007 7:59:27 PM | out of your heart of darkness
fly wishes with wasted emotions
if only they were dead
like that desire to cause pain
the strain of scrambled brain waves
so grave as to blaket all light
anti laughter tries to grouch the smiles
tormented after that trial seperation
what kind of creation can unfold
with such little hold on sanity
humanity to the devil will be
in the childish eyes only you can decide to let see | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 8/30/2007 1:02:19 AM | in the childish eyes only you can decide to let see
the inner beauty,the bounty of truth
the inspiration of life’s loses
the weight of your soul’s sweet fire
 | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 8/30/2007 5:56:42 AM | the weight of your soul’s sweet fire
presses deep into my glove
an undulating current
of supernatural love
it has you in a fever
blushes to the chest
embers burning brightly
riding on the crest | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 8/30/2007 6:31:48 AM | Riding on the crest of waves
born in a far away ocean,
I surf through joyful days
filled with loving emotion.
Where might this journey end?
With you there by my side?
Or alone on a deserted beach?
But thank you for the ride. | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 8/30/2007 8:30:05 AM | But thank you for the ride
a statement made on the river styx
tattered and moldy and it died
will the comment be taken ,or nix
How much of my journey has passed
How time is never long enough
where will the spirit be cast
The waves incredbly rough
I may not know where I am going
but I sure know where I've been
and the pleasure is in the knowing
Just what a pain is my sin
Thanks for the Hell of a ride Copyright 2007plaidworks | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 8/30/2007 1:01:38 PM | Thanks for the Hell of a ride
as she slipped quickly to the side
her wantoness
abandonment
a strong desire to be quiet wild
she felt a great burning
beating in her heart
she felt the fall and rise
she felt so good
she felt so good
she felt so good
she just had to close her eyes
she felt the throbbing
the growing pulse
push against her spine
she heard it say
come what may
your *rse is mine | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 8/30/2007 3:47:14 PM | your *rse is mine
it's so divine
I touch the flesh
becoming enmeshed
in the ectasy of prurient quest
pulling you to my breast
taking you all in
my lustful sin | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 8/30/2007 7:51:06 PM | my lustful sin
wanton delight
tie me up with silk tonight
my lustful sin
promiscuous ways
I'll show you the way through the depths of the maze
My lustful sin
true carnal feast
turning you into a half crazed beast | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 8/31/2007 1:57:54 PM | turning you into a half crazed beast
would only give me half a feast
having you wholly a wanton fiend
is what I fully intend | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 8/31/2007 2:20:44 PM | what I fully intend
is to spindle fold and bend
as soon as a good friend
tells me what spindle means
it seems these cards from yesteryear
that gave us grades but weren't too clear
came back to bite my tender rear
making me want to scream | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 8/31/2007 2:31:44 PM | making me want to scream
Why won’t the pain go away
I’ve taken the whole bottle of pills
You given me yesterday
It hurts so terribly bad
I no longer give a hoot
The doctor pointed at me an said..
Your stepping on your own foot | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 8/31/2007 6:43:43 PM | Your stepping on your own foot!
Be quiet or I'll turn you to a newt!
A spindle is a rod that acts as an axle
Easy to understand as a matter of fact (sle)
if you have ever made some wool
turn into yarn, it's kind a cool.
You take a spindle, which has wooden weight
and you pull on the wool from a sheep that you hate
and through your fingers the spindle the weighty wool pulls
and turns it to yarn from the wooliest wools.
But you don't really hate that poor poor black sheep
just needed to rhyme it, not really a creep.
Though I have hears things of Scotsmen involving innocent sheep.
gave me nasty nightmares! Was afraid to sleep!
Especially when I saw them on TV
Those certa sheepies, believe me!
I could understand stealing their fleece
and making new mittens or sox for your feets.
I think it's an idea, but not very good
you still would be stepping on your own foot | |
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| First Line, Last Line (Part Deux)
Posted: 9/1/2007 3:49:48 AM | You still would be stepping on your own foot
when insisting on wearing the shoes of a clown,
red-nosing the world, giving its backside the boot
whenever its pessimist mouth corners turn down.
Your face launches a crazy flotilla of smiles,
your pratfalls are designed to show life's resilience,
your mimed helplessness encourages, beguiles,
the world feels better when bathed in your brilliance. | |
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