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 AUTHOR
 60to70
Joined: 7/28/2008
Msg: 426
PummelingPage 18 of 52    (12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39, 40, 41, 42, 43, 44, 45, 46, 47, 48, 49, 50, 51, 52)
Water broke..
Take me there..
where birth happened.
I noticed some excellent blue skies
I noticed you drew your mouth tight
I noticed the day, the year the territory I inhabited
really this birth was not big, not huge, but noticeable.
Afterwards a pigeon sat serenely on window ledge
I passed into history.
 Alyosha
Joined: 10/29/2007
Msg: 427
Pummeling
Posted: 12/17/2008 6:35:12 AM
Thre is something about these lines


really this birth was not big, not huge, but noticeable.
Afterwards a pigeon sat serenely on window ledge


that creates the air of having been witness to a miracle, a small, humble one perhaps but maybe even more miraculous for that.
 pickles51
Joined: 9/22/2008
Msg: 428
view profile
History
Pummeling
Posted: 12/18/2008 8:49:33 PM
I wear a coat of good joy
it shields me from the questions
about my own tidings
which are full of sorrow
it lends me an air of festivity
that I can no longer feel
when clothed in just my own skin


....and no sweetie this is just a reflection of how sad people are at this time of the year.......
 60to70
Joined: 7/28/2008
Msg: 429
Pummeling
Posted: 12/18/2008 10:22:07 PM
Hand that acts competently
Hand that services at request
Freezes , this sadness asks nothing
this sadness hardly pauses, it breathes
volumes that translates to icy fog
Ach! Hand appendage without power
yes this frozen bit of nothing picked, scrutinized
has no meaning, should meaning warm this hand
I would brush your cheek, I would draw close
this pain that lingers in icy fog, thaw with intensity.
release myself, you, they, all of them, to the freedom
of freedom.
 Alyosha
Joined: 10/29/2007
Msg: 430
Pummeling
Posted: 12/19/2008 3:51:29 AM

I wear a coat of good joy
it shields me from the questions
about my own tidings
which are full of sorrow
it lends me an air of festivity
that I can no longer feel
when clothed in just my own skin


Whatever prompted it, how marvellous!
 Alyosha
Joined: 10/29/2007
Msg: 431
Pummeling
Posted: 12/19/2008 3:53:20 AM

Hand that acts competently
Hand that services at request
Freezes , this sadness asks nothing
this sadness hardly pauses, it breathes
volumes that translates to icy fog
Ach! Hand appendage without power
yes this frozen bit of nothing picked, scrutinized
has no meaning, should meaning warm this hand
I would brush your cheek, I would draw close
this pain that lingers in icy fog, thaw with intensity.
release myself, you, they, all of them, to the freedom
of freedom.


How extraordinary, dear friend! Both the thought and the mastery with which it's expressed.
 60to70
Joined: 7/28/2008
Msg: 432
Pummeling
Posted: 12/29/2008 1:14:17 AM
Alyosha possess a knack for pummelling,
Hair to stay wild, free, eyes to see
beyond the whirrinnnnng, Alyosha
tasted, felt, each wind stroke on his face
rest? never, let the hair fly into his fingers.
soft, he will release upon his breath, you
will know his touch, so the questions.
Alyosha has a catcher's glove...
a good thing, in a bad time.

A flight of fancy for Ayosha. Jee. I love that name. I would surely name a son with this name.
 Alyosha
Joined: 10/29/2007
Msg: 433
Pummeling
Posted: 12/29/2008 4:21:24 AM
Thank you, dear 60to! As for naming your phantom son "Alyosha," further your acquaintance with the original of that name by reading "The Brothers Karamazov" by Dostoievski. Along with Prince Myshkin, the character designated by the title "The Idiot" of another novel by Dostoievski, Alyosha is one of those characters critics refer to as "Holy Idiots" in that they seem oblivious to malice in others. Not really me, but an aspiration of mine.
 Alyosha
Joined: 10/29/2007
Msg: 434
Pummeling
Posted: 1/1/2009 7:26:14 AM
And the same to you, Duality, or should I say to both of you?
 60to70
Joined: 7/28/2008
Msg: 435
Pummeling
Posted: 1/3/2009 12:21:18 AM
Malice knocked sternly on my door
"Come right in, find a seat,"
I set off the kettle, carved the fish
swept back my hair, bent over the dish
poured a slight, easy drink, sat down
my tired abdomen, ate with Malice
smiles, jokes, innuendos, Malice was deep.
Upon request, Malice showed me my heart.
I triumphed, I knew as I served...
Malice would never be my name.
 Alyosha
Joined: 10/29/2007
Msg: 436
Pummeling
Posted: 1/3/2009 4:14:06 AM
Thank you 6Oto, but Malice is assuredly neither your name nor your naturre.
 60to70
Joined: 7/28/2008
Msg: 437
Pummeling
Posted: 1/4/2009 10:13:01 PM
Disguised as a central, stable woman she stole into my life
I thought he was a cowboy, look at those boots, that saucy attitude
First she occupied my five rooms
he took the car, never asked.

Then with guile, stealth, her fricken beautiful eyes
he promised kindness, did he deliver?
She silently wielded the biggest, blackest stake to my heart.
When he left, he knew the contents of the cookie jar, took it.

This then is existing.
Male, female...
Alone.. but ready, I am far from done.
eyes meeting...
 Alyosha
Joined: 10/29/2007
Msg: 438
Pummeling
Posted: 1/5/2009 4:51:04 AM

Disguised as a central, stable woman she stole into my life
I thought he was a cowboy, look at those boots, that saucy attitude


Beginning with that sudden switch from the woman to the cowboy, I was somewhat in the dark. Did they enter together, as a couple? Was one of them the villain, or both? At the end it appears that the narrator is contemplating some sort of relationship with the woman: an erotic one or one of a struggle to get revenge? Or are they one and the same?

However, it may be that the fractured way this is narrated is of the essence of the experience. As usual, you are nothing if not economical in the way you present this.
 Alyosha
Joined: 10/29/2007
Msg: 439
snapshots: 05/01/09
Posted: 1/5/2009 11:52:55 AM
In a doorway,
tucked out of the cold wind,
a man with a ruined face
and watery, beseeching eyes,
attends to his cigarette
 60to70
Joined: 7/28/2008
Msg: 440
snapshots: 05/01/09
Posted: 1/7/2009 11:22:36 PM
Baby blue eyes I was just talkin'
no man, no woman in particular
definitely not together, speaking in sexes
talkin' painful realities of folks connecting.
hard to put realities in rightful frames.

Allrite watery, beseeching eyes
how many women slept in your bed?
Do they remember the touch that startled their skin?
 Alyosha
Joined: 10/29/2007
Msg: 441
snapshots: 05/01/09
Posted: 1/8/2009 4:17:50 AM

Allrite watery, beseeching eyes
how many women slept in your bed?
Do they remember the touch that startled their skin?


This is SO poignant!
 pickles51
Joined: 9/22/2008
Msg: 442
view profile
History
snapshots: 05/01/09
Posted: 1/8/2009 9:55:31 PM
At first the voice was
unrecognised
but with the recognition
came a warmth
flooding cheeks....
and with memory
came
a surge of hormonal
need
I will call you
tonight



et pour toi cheri......bisous xo
 60to70
Joined: 7/28/2008
Msg: 443
snapshots: 05/01/09
Posted: 1/8/2009 10:42:11 PM
Talk to me..sing ..climax, you were..
short,on your right knee.. a black beauty mark
smile, held back, you would not melt your heart
through the fear you nurtured, through your moment
that in an instant I was you, you then became my
reason. Eyes meet like this not often.

Step, I step so carefully.
Think..a crow flies more adeptly.
I too flew, I soared grandly
Eyes meet like this not often.
What greater gift? Denied.
Sorrow fed me, I then limped away.
 Alyosha
Joined: 10/29/2007
Msg: 444
snapshots: 05/01/09
Posted: 1/9/2009 3:14:06 AM

I will call you
tonight


What wit in this unexpected reversal!
 Alyosha
Joined: 10/29/2007
Msg: 445
snapshots: 05/01/09
Posted: 1/9/2009 3:15:56 AM

Talk to me..sing ..climax, you were..
short,on your right knee.. a black beauty mark
smile, held back, you would not melt your heart
through the fear you nurtured, through your moment
that in an instant I was you, you then became my
reason. Eyes meet like this not often.

Step, I step so carefully.
Think..a crow flies more adeptly.
I too flew, I soared grandly
Eyes meet like this not often.
What greater gift? Denied.
Sorrow fed me, I then limped away.


How heartfelt! How seemingly spontaneous and uneditted!
 Alyosha
Joined: 10/29/2007
Msg: 446
Gutter Money
Posted: 1/21/2009 4:33:11 AM
Gutter money glittered in the street.
I bent to pick it up, but
the ligaments & sinew
of my mother's pain
set my back awry.
I looked for her in vain.
I seek her still.

I seek her still.
 60to70
Joined: 7/28/2008
Msg: 447
Gutter Money
Posted: 1/22/2009 8:27:47 PM
So much said, in so few words. Said well, in such an excellent way.
 Alyosha
Joined: 10/29/2007
Msg: 448
Snapshots: 05/02/09
Posted: 2/5/2009 6:19:47 AM
A man approaches the café,
reels as if from the cold,
his gloveless hands
drawn deep inside
the sleeves of his parka,
enters, speaks for a moment
with the counterman.
then leaves.
 Alyosha
Joined: 10/29/2007
Msg: 449
“It’s not that I hate the Jews”
Posted: 2/14/2009 1:10:01 PM
“It’s not that I hate the Jews,”
I can imagine Bishop Williamson proclaim:
“On the contrary, I love them
so much that I resolutely refuse to believe
that they were disenfranchised,
forced to wear yellow stars
at all times in public,
dragged from their homes
and herded into cattle-cars
enroute Buchenwald, Bergen-
Belsen, Dachau and all those
other unholy names,
that they were offered the chance
to have refreshing shower baths
where the water was replaced
by Zyklon-B...that they were laid
like so many loaves of bread
on planks that could be slid
into ovens...
All I ask is

Show me the cattle-cars!
Show me the ovens,
the shower-baths, the
mounds of shaven hair
that could be made into wigs, the
shoes and golden rings and
fillings from their teeth that could be
melted and re-used!
Show me the alleged
mountain of hap-hazard bones!

And I might yet
believe....”
 Alyosha
Joined: 10/29/2007
Msg: 450
“It’s not that I hate the Jews”
Posted: 2/15/2009 4:23:32 PM
Actually, dear Bishop,
in disputing the figure
of 6,000,000 gassed,
brutalized, incinerated,
you may be closer to the truth
than even you suspect.

Personally, I’ve long been uncomfortable
with that figure of 6,000,000
- so round, so smooth!
In fact the International Red Cross
did a survey after the war
and came up with the figure
5,100,00
but even that is a trifle
too rounded, wouldn’t you say?

So how about we agree
on 5,099,999?

No?

How about 42?

Or 1?

One elderly Jew,
arthritic, with bad breath,
failing memory
and of less than impeccable character...

Shmuel

Shmuel Leib Isaacson, RIP
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