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Post by Sam on Apr 10, 2008 12:00:58 GMT -6
I really hate
the things
I have to
sometimes
tolerate, but....
by doing so...
I let my inner
person know
that even though
I seem to flow
with things,
it is only
make-believe...
a means to an end...
Sam
And all is well that ends well, right?
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Post by anirbas on Apr 10, 2008 15:38:02 GMT -6
ggglgggl...except for when it isn't...couldn't resist typing that, Sammy...
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Post by Sam on Apr 11, 2008 6:38:09 GMT -6
Exactly!! ha
Love you,
Sam
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Post by Sam on Apr 11, 2008 14:50:46 GMT -6
It is only make-believe, a means to an end... pretending my way through each and every day and going home empty handed. I would cry, but what would be the use... there's nothing to gain and nothing left to lose.. My eyes are tired from crying all these unshed useless tears. I'm worn out from trying all of these many useless years... All I can say is Thank God it is Friday! Sam  |
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Post by aims on Apr 13, 2008 19:47:14 GMT -6
Friday
in the sun,
I fried
then when I went home
I cried
because recently
a dream died.
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Post by roadrunner3 on Apr 15, 2008 19:09:04 GMT -6
Recently a dream died
So where does it go
Is there a great big dead dream bin below
Do they get recycled
I believe so
Even a slightly used dream
Can tickle your toes.
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Post by aims on Apr 15, 2008 20:10:15 GMT -6
Tickle your toes,
I'm going to see if you
snort laughter through your nose
and from there,. . .
we'll see where it goes!
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Post by anirbas on Apr 15, 2008 20:56:13 GMT -6
where it goes
nobody knows...
the sock that mysteriously
disappears from the washer,
never to be seen, again...
how does it escape
the machine
is the question...
perhaps, it doesn't
escape at all...
washing machines,
are simply sockivores...
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Post by aims on Apr 19, 2008 18:18:53 GMT -6
washing machines,
are simply sockivores...
or are they???
personally. . .
I think if you creep
with silent feet
into the laundry-room in the dead of night
in the dark
you will hear it snickering
in concert with the dryer
who will suddenly blurt out,
"did you see how small I shrunk her shirt the other day??!!"
Those evil machines!!
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Post by anirbas on Apr 20, 2008 16:43:43 GMT -6
Machines, comprised
not of metal, nuts and bolts
But, of muscle, bone and sinew...
That is what we become--machines--
When we waltz through the door
and into the Belly of the Beast...
To be processed and pummeled
through it's insides
then spit out at the end
of the day or our shift...
Whichever comes first...
Worn down to a frazzle
nothing more than a walking
package of ground round...
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Post by Sam on Apr 29, 2008 10:10:53 GMT -6
Nothing more than a walking
package of ground round...
hanging around
hoping not to go bad
before completely used up.
Fed up!
Always under attack, it seems,
I am trapped in some kind
of nightmarish dream....
Is this living?
Or, just the means to an end?
My head pounds when I try
to figure out the details,
so I just float from day to day...
wishing my very life away...
Days turn to weeks,
into months,
passed over years...
still I hang on,
suspended by time...
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Post by anirbas on Apr 29, 2008 12:43:04 GMT -6
*Sammy!!!! Grrrreat to see you hanging out and about the halls
of good ole PS!*
suspended
by time
separated
by land and water,
governments and reams
and reels of red tape...
hanging from a thread
in limbo awaiting the moment,
when they are under the same roof...
doesn't deter this pair
from metaphorically
always having
their heads
together...
enjoying
this phase
as much
as they hate it...
making it on luck
and the art
of milking
chance
for
all
that
it's
worth...
born to live
for the moment
when they would meet
in real time...
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Post by aims on May 2, 2008 18:16:01 GMT -6
Time...I've got plenty of it for the right one
and determination to savor
and not rush through it
but alone
this kind of time
I've had quite enough of
in fact most of my life.
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Post by anirbas on May 6, 2008 20:17:22 GMT -6
Most of my life
has been spent
living day to day,
moment to moment...
Some of that time,
I've wasted, pondering
why I zigged, when I should have, zagged...
Not much, though, has been wasted with this mental effort...
As I barely have time to think, much less ponder...
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Post by Sam on May 7, 2008 9:31:50 GMT -6
I barely have time to think, much less ponder... when I find time to sit, I fall asleep no time left to wonder.... I zigged.... I zagged.... I have tried on a few... If hindsight is really 20/20... I wish I could rely on some conclusions I drew.... But, alas.. as they say, the past is the past... It just seems my life is now moving too fast and I can't see my way clear to fully grasp.... the right answers... so I just relax and go with the flow and in time my mind will find me, perhaps my eyes will open and then I will know... whatever it is I was talking about before my mind decided it was time to check out.... Sam |
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Post by aims on May 7, 2008 17:00:48 GMT -6
I will know...
whatever it is I was talking about
before my mind decided
it was time to check out....
When all is revealed at the end of the march of days
When instant replay relays
every comic or tragic thread, in all of my ways.
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Post by anirbas on May 8, 2008 16:06:55 GMT -6
In all of my ways...
In all of my days...
I never thought
to hear the phrase...
I love you...
And believe
that was true...
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Post by aims on May 10, 2008 18:58:00 GMT -6
I never thought
to hear the phrase...
I love you...
And believe
that was true...
but I did not too long ago
and sadly in the end it either wasn't true
or it was so shallow that the days passing
dried it up.
Still, fool that I am,
I keep right on hoping
to hear it from someone I feel that way about,
who really means it deeply.
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Post by aims on May 14, 2008 15:58:28 GMT -6
Deeply serious,
that's what relationships should be,
but nestled within that cocoon of
serious depth
there should be plenty of fun,
love, and laughter
a delightful swirl of
dark and light
depth and fun-loving shallows
the sweet and the tangy
hopelessly tangled.
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Post by Sam on May 16, 2008 11:55:11 GMT -6
The sweet and the tangy hopelessly tangled soap opera love affair scenes we watch regularly on tv..today... politically.. seem hopelessly overrated, slightly understated, and simply boring to me. Give us a break! Sam |
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Post by aims on May 16, 2008 18:15:34 GMT -6
Give us a break!
give us a steak
but please no ale
I fear it will land me in jail
after I raise. . .hail.
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Post by anirbas on May 19, 2008 23:54:54 GMT -6
Deeply serious,
that's what relationships should be,
but nestled within that cocoon of
serious depth
there should be plenty of fun,
love, and laughter
a delightful swirl of
dark and light
depth and fun-loving shallows
the sweet and the tangy
hopelessly tangled.
~AC.
~*~
I deeply adored this offering, Aims...And was oohing and ahhing, just before
you and Sam cracked me up with your last offerings...I hate soaps
and reality television, Sammy...But, followed by Aims' offering,
it was like ya'll delivered me a one-two punch-a-roo!!!!!
Now, let's see what I can do with that last line...Hmmmmmmmm......
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Post by anirbas on May 20, 2008 0:06:43 GMT -6
Give us a break!
give us a steak
but please no ale
I fear it will land me in jail
after I raise. . .hail.
~AC.
~*~
Hail and welcome to Hell...
Here they feed you very well...
Lambchops, roast, and quail...
But, the ambience will make you quell...
Sulfurous fumes smell up the dell...
Leaving each bite of food with a taste that is fell...
Everything has the same flavor as the head of a matchstick...
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Post by Sam on May 20, 2008 7:10:26 GMT -6
Everything has the same flavor
as the head of a matchstick...
You are afraid if you eat it.....
you might wind up sick...
You are afraid if you don't....
you might wind up in some deep dark place
far away from what is left of the human race,
sniffing and smelling and longing and hoping
to get back to that pleasing aroma of sulfur
you now find you adore and somehow,
unnaturally crave.....
Happy Tuesday!
Sam
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Post by roadrunner3 on May 20, 2008 21:28:35 GMT -6
you adore and somehow,
unnaturally crave for more
Twinkies and slinkeys(sp?)
and rings for the pinkies
that Boomer's recall from
their days growing up,
days of Red Rover
and bouncing on pogos
and watching the fizzies
spread joy through your cup
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Post by aims on May 22, 2008 17:47:13 GMT -6
Your cup
will be gushing
if you decide to love me,
that's what I'm thinking. . .
but we'll wait and see
meanwhile in my prayers I'll make my plea!!
dedicated to someone I just became aquianted with! |
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Post by amnacar on May 23, 2008 17:58:55 GMT -6
meanwhile in my prayers I'll make my plea
Always pleading in prayers,
a scratch in the recording or a strange cosmic loop
of me pleading, begging, crying out to God for this, that,
or the other. I think of Monty Python
and the Grail
and God commanding Arthur to stop all the grovelling.
Grovelling really annoys God.
And I smile at the thought, and stop the pleading.
But the prayers go on...not as desperate though.
A lightness, a bit of jovial gratitude, and
I start humming an old Catholic hymn
"Now we thank Thee all our God,
With hearts, and minds, and voices...."
and love, love and love, unspeakable love
like a halo of humming bursts forth
and I forget the thorn that caused all my bleeding
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Post by aims on May 24, 2008 8:04:00 GMT -6
I forget the thorn that caused all my bleeding
and then I remember it again as I clutch at my heart,
my feelings, my unbridled passions
are like barbs causing me pain
and probably frightening away
my heart's desire.
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Post by Sam on May 29, 2008 6:50:38 GMT -6
my heart's desire
remains a mystery
not only to the world
but also to me....
I search myself
constantly
but so far
it seems to be
my heart's desire
remains locked
away in secrecy
even from me.
Sam
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Post by anirbas on May 29, 2008 8:22:08 GMT -6
me?
I'm beyond
caring how I'm interpreted...
or misinterpreted, as the case may be...
old men brandishing rusty swords in my face
does little to put this womanchild in her place...
for at my core, I'm still the little girl catching
the rocks thrown at her by the schoolyard bullies...
you may leave the mark of blood and scratches
upon the uselessly pliant flesh of this all to human vessel...
but, I'm not beyond, picking up the stones thrown at me
and chunking them right back where they came from...
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