Chasin' Chickens

[My Erotic Tale]

Your only obligation in any lifetime is to be true to yourself.
Being true to anyone else or anything else is not only impossible, but the mark of a false messiah.
- from "Illusions, The Adventures of a Reluctant Messiah"
Richard Bach

wow Du~

I love this book, the steirman flying barnstorming on the winds of faith
I was a crop duster many moons ago, loved this book better than johnathan livingston seagul, I liked ...ONE as well <grin> wow when did you put that up last month, I swear one day I am a hawk on the wind the next I am an ostrich with my head in the sand <laughing> ...

hey ya'll

 

[My Erotic Tale]

men and womens qualities
are very similar to that of trees
root ,grow, limbs and branching
the order in which they are standing

tall short round and not
scars of the day they got a knot
some are bare more than most
others always leaves a host

some blossom some dont'
those that smolder in smoke
some irritate the pollen out of you
or cover when the suns being cruel

some nurture others
with their fruit of life
others live in entangled vine
some live where no man strive

a tree too can be murdered
timber wood words marter
or falls and lays in a forest floor
a home now for another world

but wood like words after the death
some times comes alive the best
structure for the coming peers
that house a thought for years

ashes to ashes saw dust to dust
both bound to the earths crust
the forgotten and the remembered
the saplings and petrified forever



is it ZMP material???

 

[Du Lac]

very zen ET... good write.. Illusions is my book of learning .. I was given to me at the age of 20 by a man I was dating at the time. Tom was a special man strange, funny,,,, not all that handsome but filled with goodness... I smile to this day when I think of him.. he passed away but a part of him lives in me all the time. I have read Illusions hundrends of times... always I learn something new from it... I pass it on over and over.. I always have a copy here to give to someone... my family read it because I told them to... when I am troubled I open it and the answer stares at me... it is my favorite book along with Middlemarch by George Elliot, The Stand by Steven King and Gone with the Wind M. Mitchell. What array eh? I have read all of his books and always find a new truth staring me in the face.. guess that is 1. getting older 2. hopefully wiser and 3. opening more to the all of living...
Funny I just knew you would love that book....
Du~
]

men and womens qualities
are very similar to that of trees
root ,grow, limbs and branching
the order in which they are standing

tall short round and not
scars of the day they got a knot
some are bare more than most
others always leaves a host

some blossom some dont'
those that smolder in smoke
some irritate the pollen out of you
or cover when the suns being cruel

some nurture others
with their fruit of life
others live in entangled vine
some live where no man strive

a tree too can be murdered
timber wood words marter
or falls and lays in a forest floor
a home now for another world

but wood like words after the death
some times comes alive the best
structure for the coming peers
that house a thought for years

ashes to ashes saw dust to dust
both bound to the earths crust
the forgotten and the remembered
the saplings and petrified forever



is it ZMP material???

 

[bluerains]

and

very zen ET... good write.. Illusions is my book of learning .. I was given to me at the age of 20 by a man I was dating at the time. Tom was a special man strange, funny,,,, not all that handsome but filled with goodness... I smile to this day when I think of him.. he passed away but a part of him lives in me all the time. I have read Illusions hundrends of times... always I learn something new from it... I pass it on over and over.. I always have a copy here to give to someone... my family read it because I told them to... when I am troubled I open it and the answer stares at me... it is my favorite book along with Middlemarch by George Elliot, The Stand by Steven King and Gone with the Wind M. Mitchell. What array eh? I have read all of his books and always find a new truth staring me in the face.. guess that is 1. getting older 2. hopefully wiser and 3. opening more to the all of living...
Funny I just knew you would love that book....
Du~
]

Did you find your blue feather???

 

[My Erotic Tale]

I thought I had but it was an illusion but a damn good one <grin>

 

[My Erotic Tale]

A Cherokee Rose~
'Navajo Rug'
part 4

the sun would rise high on a new day
T-pee smoke in a heavy gray haze
a brave grasping for a mornings frolic
little deer endeared his lustfilled licks

a handfull of mane in a tight hands grip
through her soul each thrust would rip
as fast as one cooks a scrambled egg
he was out from between her red legs

her anticipation of the noon day sun
when she took off to the river in a run
there lay a cowboy in his usual wait
she arrived now uncertain of her fate

"What is that?" The cowboy asked
little deer shot him a gleaming glance
"Navajo rug," she said in a slight moan
"Where ever it go, will be my home."

It didn't take but an arrows moment
there was the trail and they were on it
where it would take her she didn't know
headed to texas was a Cherokee Rose~

The night burned a fire kindled and new
passion and desires once again brewed
giggles under stars and a Navajo Rug
little deer and a cowboy making love

kisses sweet as a honey suckle vine
toes tickled toes in cricket chirp time
tumble weed rumbles and feather touched
wordless they pleased each other much

holding the stars naked under a full moon
laying and listening to the indian loone
watching the moon watch the world glow
in the arms of a cowboy, A Cherokee Rose~

 

[My Erotic Tale]

Rhyming-itis

I don't know
but I've been ...oh ...
rhyming

I will not rhyme ...I will not rhyme
I will say it this, one thousand ...
ways

I have been told I have a desease
I need some help pretty ...
soon

My poems all seem to want'a Rhyme
I seem to write these poems all the ..
weekend

There is no cure I have been told
nothing short of good ole self-
awareness

I plan to tackle this problem I have
then my poems won't be so darn ...
rhyming

rhyming itis

rhyming phobia

rhyming

 

[My Erotic Tale]

A Cherokee Rose~
'Navajo Rug'
part 4

the sun would rise high on a new day
T-pee smoke in a heavy gray haze
a brave grasping for a mornings frolic
little deer endeared lustfilled licks

a handfull of mane in a tight hands grip
through her soul each thrust would rip
as fast as one cooks a scrambled egg
he was out from between her red legs

her anticipation of the noon day sun
when she took off to the river in a run
there lay a cowboy in his usual wait
she arrived now uncertain of her fate

"What is that?" The cowboy asked
little deer shot him a gleaming glance
"Navajo rug," she said in a slight moan
"Where ever it go, will be my home."

It didn't take but an arrows moment
there was the trail and they were on it
where it would take her she didn't know
headed to texas was a Cherokee Rose~

The night burned a fire kindled and new
passion and desires once again brewed
giggles under stars and a Navajo Rug
little deer and a cowboy making love

kisses sweet as a honey suckle vine
toes tickled toes in cricket chirp time
tumble weed rumbles and feather touched
wordless they pleased each other much

holding the stars naked under a full moon
laying and listening to the indian loone
watching the moon, watch the world glow
in the arms of a cowboy, A Cherokee Rose~

A Cherokee Rose~
'Painted Pony'
part 5

A hot Texas wind across cactus rows
blistering sun over little deers new home
El rancho la grande and cattlemens eyes
all licked their lips to the cowboys new bride

she reaked of beauty and they were in awe
but to them she was just an indian squaw
thresholds, cakes and smiles to behold
happiness and joy filled a cherokee rose

Honey moon hung in a romantic glow
two bodies laying with out any clothes
their fingers touched hearts and souls
suckled kisses and tasting tongue rolls

navajo rug under a dream catcher
hot flesh mix, mingled and sweltered
a man in the saddle all night long
little deer chanted a joyous song

the morning sun brought new suprises
not a man grabbing for his that rises
but flower pedals scattered all about
and breakfast served to her mouth

whisked to the door in anxious flight
little deer wrapped in a sheet snug tight
on her face a large smile growed
a painted pony for a cherokee rose

she rode like the wind no saddle bare
into the future that she had dared
many moons passed and love blossom
she found Texas to be truely awesome <grin>

corsets weren't her and the local ladies stared
towards little deer they hackled and sneared
a friendly face talked her into wearing lace
a general store at a country pace

she rode the painted pony back to her home
she knew by his eyes and the smile that glow
he was obviously pleased with her new dress
wind blown hair she was still a princess

hot breath kisses and a dress thrown
they fell again into passions throne
lust, desire and emotions all flow
happy and freely from a cherokee rose

 

[My Erotic Tale]

A Cherokee Rose~
'Painted Pony'
part 5

A hot Texas wind across cactus rows
blistering sun over little deers new home
El rancho la grande and cattlemens eyes
all licked their lips to the cowboys new bride

she reaked of beauty and they were in awe
but to them she was just an indian squaw
thresholds, cakes and smiles to behold
happiness and joy filled a cherokee rose

Honey moon hung in a romantic glow
two bodies laying with out any clothes
their fingers touched hearts and souls
suckled kisses and tasting tongue rolls

navajo rug under a dream catcher
hot flesh mix, mingled and sweltered
a man in the saddle all night long
little deer chanted a joyous song

the morning sun brought new suprises
not a man grabbing for his that rises
but flower pedals scattered all about
and breakfast served to her mouth

whisked to the door in anxious flight
little deer wrapped in a sheet snug tight
on her face a large smile growed
a painted pony for a cherokee rose

she rode like the wind no saddle bare
into the future that she had dared
many moons passed and love blossom
she found Texas to be truely awesome <grin>

corsets weren't her and the local ladies stared
towards little deer they hackled and sneared
a friendly face talked her into wearing lace
a general store at a country pace

she rode the painted pony back to her home
she knew by his eyes and the smile that glow
he was obviously pleased with her new dress
wind blown hair she was still a princess

hot breath kisses and a dress thrown
they fell again into passions throne
lust, desire and emotions all flow
happy and freely from a cherokee rose

where o where to go <grin>

 

[The Poets]

bumping

 

[Du Lac]

Medusa's Chant cont...

Medusa's Chant

Metal on metal singing through the air,
closed eyes of Eve now open to see,
Haunting madness of the shackled song,
incessant humming of her mind.

Medusa’s bones chant to Paradise's prisoner,
Eve cries to a God of banished beliefs,
Darkness circling, buried suffrage
echoing within the labyrinth of stone hearts.

Screams pour forth from the night,
Peebles line the sacred circles,
Reflective pasts of beating hearts,
Lilith's song a fettered memory.

Medusa's tears plummet from the sky,
Chalices overflowed with sacred rain,
hardened souls of drunken men
swilling the salty nectar.

A keening squall marinates crag hymns,
clamorous cries of silent voices,
Medha's masks shattered,
spilt blood banishes synthetic creeds.

From afar Lilith whispers the name covertly cradled,
boundless garden Eden bane of restrictive gates.
Casually Lilith strolls, Eve awaits her embrace,
labyrinth swoons as the souls of adamant men wake.

On the wings of owls, hawks and sparrows,
Medusa's hymn floats on a celestial breeze,
Lilith's slumbering soul drunk on the melody,
the spiraling gossamer of unfulfilled dreams.

Maze center drawn nigh,
mouth to mouth Eve and Lilith,
infusion of light and dark,
chant hums in ecliptic souls.

Standing witness amongst rubble of stone,
tendrilled male hearts, a pulsing canticle.
Castrated myths of seperate paths,
Sophia's veil a dissolving sheild.


lol.. almost there... du~

 

[My Erotic Tale]

wow Du, like a volcano ready to erupt <grin>
go Du go!!! hehehe nice , very nice and mystique

 

[My Erotic Tale]

A Cherokee Rose~
'The Thorn'

Waters splash with giggles and laughs
little deer and cowboys lips kissed mashed
their love did flower, blossom and grow
but life has a thorn for a Cherokee Rose

over the pooled water thunder crashed
little deer saw cowboys breath of last
a bullet in the back came the second flash
three men on sorrels in a range war backlash

they trotted away leaving her in water red
holding cowboy in rippled pool of the dead
rain came in tears as a war song was sung
grasping for life in a body thats already gone

standing over a mound called a lonesome dove
her belongings under her arm, a navajo rug
tears streamed down a lovers sniffling nose
painted pony in the wind of a cherokee rose

saloon doors slung for an ill breeze in gust
an indian squaw to kiss vengences lust
three shots rang out in a dodging city saloon
flesh and metal clashed in a smoke filled room

the sheriff was at the bar in fear to make a move
while little deer took one of the mens new boots
"Eye for an eye under an Indian sky," she said slow
death of three men marks a bounty for a cherokee rode

Riding a Painted Pony ahead of a posse
many days on the trail makes one dusty
the mountains of home were in her view
in her heart a sorrow stirred and brewed

which way to go she did not know
continplating her fate over a fires glow
like a magnet her home pulled on her soul
reservation bound when a cherokee rose

she rode to her village on heavy hoofs
there were no peace pipes puffed
out a t-pee a brave was slung flying
then the pair of boots from the dieing

'Eye for an eye then moccosins for boots"
little deer yelled of spirits and her indian roots
in a navajo rug with tears on the moons glow
nestled in her home and land, a cherokee rose

 

[My Erotic Tale]

wicked smile and turtle gloves
searching the shadows and
tossing bones from a closet
for a daggar eyed muse

twisting roses
to write from its dew
blade rides flesh
blood will do

nail kissing keys
while hot breath whispers
between lobes on the eve
dangerous creative

splintering cerebriums
with jig saw smile words
to awaken the soul
and drag them to the shadows

the tail is the tune
on a wicked smile
tantalizing tongue
of a wild flower

 

[Du Lac]

WOW .. loved it Art.. WOW
du~

wicked smile and turtle gloves
searching the shadows and
tossing bones from a closet
for a daggar eyed muse

twisting roses
to write from its dew
blade rides flesh
blood will do

nail kissing keys
while hot breath whispers
between lobes on the eve
dangerous creative

splintering cerebriums
with jig saw smile words
to awaken the soul
and drag them to the shadows

the tail is the tune
on a wicked smile
tantalizing tongue
of a wild flower

 

[My Erotic Tale]

wicked grin and turtle gloves
searching the shadows and
tossing bones from a closet
for a daggar eyed muse

twisting roses
to write from its dew
blade rides flesh
blood will do

nail kissing keys
while hot breath whispers
between lobes on the eve
of dangerous creativity

planting splinters in cerebriums
with jig saw smile words
to awaken the soul
and drag them to the shadows

the tail is the tune
on a wicked smile
tantalizing tongue
of a wild flower

sharing in the rain
and relish in thunder
in a literary world lrides
a wicked eve

 

[My Erotic Tale]

every step taken
tests the waters of the forest floor
ears that turn two ways
eyes that see perfectly
that they can't see into tomorrow
runs with the wind
calls the moon friend

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Clash, clack,clack, snort!"
hoof in sod
digging for stance
head hung low
plowing forward

clack clash tick tick
the joust

 

[Du Lac]

Medusa's Chant finale

Medusa's Chant

Metal on metal singing through the air,
closed eyes of Eve now open to see,
Haunting madness of the shackled song,
incessant humming of her mind.

Medusa’s bones chant to Paradise's prisoner,
Eve cries to a God of banished beliefs,
Darkness circling, buried suffrage
echoing within the labyrinth of stone hearts.

Screams pour forth from the night,
Peebles line the sacred circles,
Reflective pasts of beating hearts,
Lilith's song a fettered memory.

Medusa's tears plummet from the sky,
Chalices overflowed with sacred rain,
hardened souls of drunken men
swilling the salty nectar.

A keening squall marinates crag hymns,
clamorous cries of silent voices,
Medha's masks shattered,
spilt blood banishes synthetic creeds.

From afar Lilith whispers the name covertly cradled,
boundless garden Eden bane of restrictive gates.
Casually Lilith strolls, Eve awaits her embrace,
labyrinth swoons as the souls of adamant men wake.

On the wings of owls, hawks and sparrows,
Medusa's hymn floats on a celestial breeze,
Lilith's slumbering soul drunk on the melody,
the spiraling gossamer of unfulfilled dreams.

Maze center drawn nigh,
mouth to mouth Eve and Lilith,
ghostly shadows Athena and Medusa,
infusion of light and dark, chant hums in ecliptic souls.

Standing witness amongst rubble of stone,
tendrilled male hearts, a pulsing canticle.
Castrated myths of seperate paths,
Sophia's veil a dissolving sheild.

more to come

 

[My Erotic Tale]

I really find it amazing to watch this poem grow
I have never spent that much time on a poem
perhaps a story but never a poem but....

the results speak for them selves
although I do let them stew in the swirls
of my mind a long time some times <grin>
a very very amazaing and grasping poem

 

[My Erotic Tale]

in a massive field
a zillion flowers yeild

how many steps?
I don't know
before I knelt
to a flowers glow

of all the flowers
in the world
I plucked one
to view and twirl

 

[My Erotic Tale]

comfort


Have you found comfort
in your lifes stumbles
soft sheets under a roof
ideas that simmer and fumble


it is intellect that builds
what the mind concieves
the pursuit of comfort
housing lifes luxuries


for under the house
out of the wind and rain
a baby kitten shivers
no owner or name

The tree in the yard
houses the squirrels
nestled in pine straw
in slumber their curled


feathers in a nest
ducking strong winds
only know the moment
and natures cycled trend


In a field across a meadow
stands a drenched cow
eye lashes batting fastly
wet bullets pelting its brow

a dog with out care
sits in the rain?
or a body massage
for a canine, strange?

a beaver family
goes to work
blocking where
the waters surge

a fish don';t care
about our worlds storm
every creature follows
their minds thoughts born

 

[My Erotic Tale]

eyes open to a new day
the minds awakening
recycling yesterday
a collection
of past recollections

the body stretches
to prepare to move
getting into a
repetitious groove
another day given to go thru

but like the slow rising sun
the minds thoughts
will shine bright
once it's up

unless their are clouds
which only cloak
the suns burn
while jumping
into a day on the run!

 

[My Erotic Tale]

Bitch slapped
back to reality...

I was looking at a girl with ...
short sleeves
and stumbed my toe
my mind wasn't thinking
'THAT' ... low

 

[My Erotic Tale]

She was probably the most listened-to disc jockey in history, yet hardly anyone remembers her as such today, in spite of, or perhaps because of, the lingering infamous legend surrounding her. Brought up by her immigrant Methodist parents to think of herself as an American, Iva Ikuko Toguri (1916 - ), a first generation Japanese-American ("Nisei") was forced to broadcast propaganda for Japan during World War II, after her native U.S. abandoned her there mere days before the Pearl Harbor attack, and despite her continual efforts throughout the war to return home. She literally cheered in the streets as U.S. Gen. Doolittle's Raiders flew over Tokyo, and cheered yet again when the first American B-29's appeared over Tokyo in the fall of '44 (the first one was a BR-29 reconnaissance craft named "Tokyo Rose").her segments of "The Zero Hour" the way japanese propaganda, her outspoken support of the Allies off-mike (while cleverly concealing it within her message and delivery on-air) resulted in numerous arguments Yet in spite of, and ironically because of this, she was to be only person ever tried or sent to prison for these broadcasts,

 

[My Erotic Tale]

irratic darting
of yellow splashed flapping
flys a butterfly

................................
A Tokyo Rose

A Pearl was crushed by a soaring dragons blow
the sword of the rising sun, dripping red arose
united fingers severed, bandaged and forged on
to avenge those in red, layed in white with blue song

Radio waves sailed over the pacific, "Hello Joe,"
propaganda from the thought police, "I Tokyo Rose."
fingers around her throat, "...read this and invoke!"
an american caught in japan when war broke out

(work in progress)