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Post by anirbas on Dec 22, 2006 10:56:32 GMT -6
Okie dokie, first rule of this thread...Is there aren't any rules...
Just use the last line from the last poem as the first line of your poem...The words may be exact or you may mix them up the way you wish them...The content of your poem need not follow the content of the poem before it...Just use the last line and or it's words as your first line...
~*~
Once upon a time...
There was this really cool guy...
He was rather like Captain Jack Sparrow...
Though his waist wasn't that girlishly narrow...
And he was considerably taller...
Come to think of it...
He didn't wear kohl
smudged round his eyes, either...
It was his way, his demeanor
that made him such a pirate,
our very own, Cap'n Jack...
Lively as an undead monkey,
this man I'm speaking of...
But, still just a man...
And like the Captain...
Capable of making mistakes...
That somehow seemed so hilarious...
Though he's not nefarious...
Nor exactly infamous...
He's known far and wide...
For rolling with the flow,
riding the high tide
and being el capitain
on this plane...
What a minute...
I'm mixing my movies...
That was Snoop Dog...
Not Johnny Depp...
So, now my story is over...
As my creativity is starting to flounder...
I'm just glad it wasn't me...
That threw the baby
out with the bathwater...
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Post by anirbas on Dec 22, 2006 13:49:30 GMT -6
bathwater...
mixed with bubbles,
and the chuckles
and giggles
of two...
soothed
this mind racked
and wracked by troubles...
and left me squeaky clean, too...
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Post by Sam on Dec 22, 2006 14:43:39 GMT -6
Too many things
to remind me
of too many things
best forgot...
Too much to hope for
when all hope
seems lost...
Always remember!
The best things in life
really are free,
and a simple smile
means so much more
than any material thing...
And though it has been said
"money can not buy happiness"
I have but one thing to add.
"Those people were loaded". ha
Sam
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Post by amycando on Dec 24, 2006 23:29:44 GMT -6
Those people are loaded guns of condescension and condemnation
and the bullets they fire
are meant to wound or mame,
not kill,
they want their victims alive and suffering
for their willful lack of conformity. |
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Post by amycando on Dec 29, 2006 21:19:43 GMT -6
Lack of conformity is not something to be practiced for it's own sake, unless it is an exercise in stretching oneself or reevaluation of one's outlook, by means of peering through another perspective. |
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Post by soulfir3 on Dec 29, 2006 21:56:52 GMT -6
peering through another perspective
I am perplexed by the hazy outline
I see within this curved reflection
nothing is as it appears,
and yet the dreams are just as real
as they were when you stood,
here in front of me
as flesh to touch and a voice
to be heard
until the fog lifts slightly
a ghostly figurine
moving with the actions of
a mime in his well tuned art
of supplying inspiration
for an imagination
which is not ever really
as you would think it
might be
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Post by amycando on Dec 31, 2006 18:20:25 GMT -6
An imagination
which is not ever really
as you would think it
might be for at times, yes, it is a sponge and a fount for lofty inspiration,
at another moment it looks around and pictures people naked, and not necessarily people I'd want to see that way
on another occasion it is in the gutter on purpose while I cackle and laugh huskily. |
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Post by dawness on Jan 2, 2007 1:57:48 GMT -6
years have i not laughed huskily
too many floating dust living in the closet
of my viens,
now,
it is the hour of moments
splendor in the rain
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Post by soulfir3 on Jan 2, 2007 2:22:36 GMT -6
splendour in the rain,
is a treat I sadly miss
watching the lightening flicker
across nature's own wide screen
and thunder which rumbles
inbetween the cracks
of this humble abode
when darkness settles
and you lose track of time
becoming lost in the mist of pelting
tear drops
falling from the sky
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Post by amycando on Jan 2, 2007 21:49:59 GMT -6
In the mist of pelting tear drops
falling from the sky I do not stop and wonder why you cry
mother earth
but I do feel a bit of melancholy
because I know all too well
why I cry. |
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Post by anirbas on Jan 2, 2007 22:03:44 GMT -6
I cry...
In the stillness
of the house
when I have it,
to myself, I bawl
and bellow like a calf
with an empty belly
and a missing mother...
I cry...
In the shower
my favorite crying room,
a bower of a sound barrier,
the water pelting down,
when I'm not alone--
No one can
hear me then...
I cry...
Not for what was...
Nor for what is...
But, for what
never will be...
I cry...
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Post by dawness on Jan 3, 2007 5:14:31 GMT -6
i cry for the violets shrinking under
the heat of meadow's anger,
how can wrath boil the crater's sun
and let
the gazing wilderness
weep with the wind
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Post by amycando on Jan 4, 2007 13:30:22 GMT -6
With the wind
I wish I could be one
It gets to touch you
to run it's breezes through your hair
to kiss your face sometimes tenderly
sometimes with fervent force
it get's to slide around your waist
or breeze up your dress.
Lucky, lucky wind.
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Post by dawness on Jan 4, 2007 13:56:01 GMT -6
lucky wind smelling the fragrance
of all roses dancing in the sun,
go forth and multiply
like bees sucking the nectar
of some tingling lullaby
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Post by anirbas on Jan 4, 2007 19:47:25 GMT -6
tingling lullaby...
the intonations of your voice
pouring into the shell of my ear over the phone
warm wild mountain honey on the comb...
shattering my aplomb and yet soothing me, at the same time...
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Post by amycando on Jan 5, 2007 21:26:14 GMT -6
"Shattering my aplomb and yet soothing me, at the same time..."
don't we all feel that way when enamored of someone.
this is how: the same, very different people can be.
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Post by anirbas on Jan 6, 2007 1:04:56 GMT -6
People can be a pain in the butt.
Some strut with their jaws a-jutt--
Look at me I'm Sandra Dee!
I'm prettier than Beyonce'!
Look at me, I'm Mario Andretti!
My other car is a Jaguar!
See my bling bling--
he bought this diamond ring at Jared's!
I must be special, this love has to be real!
Look at my high dollar car--
Means I've got the biggest dick, by far!
And yet...And yet...One wonders
why they need material trappings?
To impress others, or themselves?
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Post by amycando on Jan 6, 2007 16:32:36 GMT -6
One wonders
why they need material trappings?
To impress others, or themselves?
One thinks they definitely are trying to fool themselves and others
because human beings think if they can convince themselves and others
then it becomes truth,
or at least that's what we want to believe so bad we can taste it.
Even sometimes when we think we are seeking truth
we are really seeking a way to find only truths we will like.
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Post by anirbas on Jan 6, 2007 21:10:13 GMT -6
We will like green eggs and ham,
even if we don't like green eggs and ham,
if the correct representitive pushes it down our throat...
See how pretty the model's hair is...
She uses [insert brand name] and her hair is so thick...
Lustrous and shiny...But, half her mane was braided in
just before the photography shooting session, began...
Look, he uses [insert brand name] cologne
and all the women are chasing him down
with seductive come on and take me, baby stares...
Do me, now, right here on the restuarant floor...
Or on the hood of your expensively fast, hot car...
Advertising...Just a way of selling a load of hog wash
and runny mush injected with green dye...
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Post by amycando on Jan 7, 2007 8:52:16 GMT -6
Runny mush injected with green dye
and wearing the title watermelon gourmet ice. . . and chips,
is what I end up buying
when I take little girls into the gas station with me,
intending to buy them a bottle of soda.
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Post by Sam on Jan 9, 2007 11:11:46 GMT -6
 Sam Buy them a bottle of soda walk through the park hand in hand..... play in the sunshine til day light ends and come morning do it all over again.. Life is short! Be happy and love each other while you can! Sam |
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Post by dawness on Jan 11, 2007 6:39:43 GMT -6
while you can,
allow the wind to smell your hair
made from buds delivered in may,
and then,
come to the forest
and waxth the mirrors
where your face gleams
from far beyond your dreams
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Post by amycando on Jan 11, 2007 20:05:46 GMT -6
"Far beyond your dreams,"
I must confess, O Great One, O God,
it is this I hope in my heart you are pronouncing
and sending my way
as a blessing for not giving up my faith
through all the years of loneliness, heartache, and disappointment.
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Post by anirbas on Jan 11, 2007 22:36:56 GMT -6
*sheesh, ladies! ya'll are layin' down some smokin' poemin' tracks in here! got more?*
disappointment reigns supreme...
when i get caught up in the moment...
this now, this present is important...
but, all this shall be but a memory, tomorrow...
i prefer to look beyond this minute...
into the next one, into the future...
as the present moment is most dour...
but, it to shall be gone in less than an hour...
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Post by amycando on Jan 14, 2007 21:05:41 GMT -6
the present moment is most dour...
but, it to shall be gone in less than an hour...
so live in the moment
and remember the past and the present
may seem to pursue you toward th future but they will never catch up
so glean the good from your moments
and leave the refuse with them as you pass them,
and leave them in the dust.
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Post by soulfir3 on Jan 14, 2007 22:24:40 GMT -6
"Leave them in the dust",
called the elderly lady
from within the combed confines
of a hairstyle decades from where
we, her great grandchildren
now stand
listening too her lullaby hushed voice
creeping lower
as age whittles it's ever teasing
strokes upon her bones,
soul and body
watching the petals fall from peach trees
we listen,
enraptured with stories from her time
arriving from Ireland
with her ever handsome beau,
whom we only ever knew as Pa
Gracious is she, in her
slurred, black and white photos
from a land so far away
"Leave them in the dust",
she calls too us,
her great grandchildren
but we can not
and from the dust
we draw her memories
remembering them
and her
between just the solemn
four of us
whispering softly as
new blooms appear
we love you Nanna,
in God's hands, we now trust...
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Post by anirbas on Jan 14, 2007 22:25:24 GMT -6
in the dust,
if one looks...
as if one looks
into the placid
surface of a pond...
one can see
the reflection
of the universe,
in the dust, too...
flecks of sparkles
like the pinpoints of stars...
shimmers and shivers of minerals...
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Post by soulfir3 on Jan 15, 2007 15:10:04 GMT -6
pinpoints of stars
show a universe mapped out before me
as though staring into my
own existence,
if I stare long enough
hard enough
clarity comes too my soul
and I understand where it is
the journey began
too where it now idles
waiting for inspiration to urge it onward |
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Post by amycando on Jan 15, 2007 19:30:22 GMT -6
Waiting for inspiration to urge it onward my soul sags lethargically,
it is a tired season
and reality inspired depression does nothing
but aid in this detriment.
I keep trying to pull myself into
a better place by tugging on grattitude
but so far it is not winning the battle
and so I begin to worry that life will
throw me a close call so that
my reasons for true and heartfelt grattitude
will be renewed.
I do not want a close call with disaster
as a wake up call.
I am sooo tired of being me I wish I could auction off my life,
and walk away and start afresh as someone else,
but I fear there would be no takers.
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Post by anirbas on Jan 15, 2007 21:35:02 GMT -6
hehe...we crossposted, Soul...and I'm so feeling your poeming this evening, Aims...
~*~
There would be no takers...
If there weren't any givers...
Is that the kind of poem,
I wish to write tonight?
No, that stinks to high heavens
of me going into near philosophical
left field...Makes me sound bitter...
Hard edged...Jaded...Be that as it may...
Hmmmm...Chop the line
smaller...Shorter...
No takers...No takers...No takers?
What, no takers? Come on, now...
Whaddayagonegimmee now, for this spotted cow?
I'm offered not a single bid on this bovinic beast?
Come on, come on, now...Whaddayagonegimmeenow?
I know she's not much of a cook...
She's a bit off her rocker, likes to actually read a book...
But, she was quite a looker in her day, I've seen the pictures, folks!
And she's not half bad now, in the right light, incorporating the right angle...
Come on, come on, now! Whaddayagonegimmee, now?
What's that you say? Why's the cow got a ball gag
in her mouth? And a blindfold on? Thanks, cowboy, you just ruined the sale...
She's gagged cause when she's not...She's lippy or prone to bawl...
She's blindfolded, cause she's dippy...Tetched in the head...
Thinks she's Don Quixote...And when she looks at cowboys,
she sees windmills and starts charging them...
Thanks, cowboy, you just ruined the sale...
Here, you can have her, I'll give you a hundred bucks to take her...
Said the cowboy turned auctioneer rubbing at his cowhorned and gored backside...
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