not sure how many words
- Thread starter eagleyez
- Start date
DeepAsleep
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Jul 17, 2004
- Posts
- 774
whispering sheets and
bedspring squeaks
she's getting up for work, again.
the snooze button got a triple threat
this morning.
with the sun behind her moppy hair
she's got an aura of yesterday's mousse
gone suddenly to pasture
and she's too skinny for my taste
but in the sunlight of right now
she is as beautiful as I will ever see her.
I wish I had my glasses on
instead of this hangover.
bedspring squeaks
she's getting up for work, again.
the snooze button got a triple threat
this morning.
with the sun behind her moppy hair
she's got an aura of yesterday's mousse
gone suddenly to pasture
and she's too skinny for my taste
but in the sunlight of right now
she is as beautiful as I will ever see her.
I wish I had my glasses on
instead of this hangover.
DeepAsleep
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Jul 17, 2004
- Posts
- 774
Hit my knees in the parking lot,
yesterday morning.
The silence brought by 13 inches of snow
in a blued and crisped world
struck me as holy.
It's gotta be god calling
when you prop your elbows
on the bumper
of someone else's car.
In cold air,
you can see every prayer
drifting away from your lips and
fading into the world
as if scooped up by a wandering listener.
Winter's a good time to look at the spirit,
so long as you're not just killing time
until summer comes along.
yesterday morning.
The silence brought by 13 inches of snow
in a blued and crisped world
struck me as holy.
It's gotta be god calling
when you prop your elbows
on the bumper
of someone else's car.
In cold air,
you can see every prayer
drifting away from your lips and
fading into the world
as if scooped up by a wandering listener.
Winter's a good time to look at the spirit,
so long as you're not just killing time
until summer comes along.
G
Guest
Guest
Home Once More
Three musicians gather notes
and arrange them into jazz,
take turns at shining
as the others watch,
basking in the rays.
Jeff's guitar scales the heights of Django
and back to earth again.
Johnson and Winding are there too,
glissando and growl. slide and sweep.
Hidden talents, proud skills
I am the audience of one.
A standing ovation.
Three musicians gather notes
and arrange them into jazz,
take turns at shining
as the others watch,
basking in the rays.
Jeff's guitar scales the heights of Django
and back to earth again.
Johnson and Winding are there too,
glissando and growl. slide and sweep.
Hidden talents, proud skills
I am the audience of one.
A standing ovation.
Last edited by a moderator:
DeepAsleep
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Jul 17, 2004
- Posts
- 774
Bring me my madness, damn your eyeballs!
Bring back the screaming fits,
the manic chatter,
belief in invincibility.
Bring back the screaming fits,
the manic chatter,
belief in invincibility.
G
Guest
Guest
….but when we parted
your eyes told me you
could not accept the answers
and your arms told me
you didn’t want to
let go.
Our aimless parallels finally
diverged to avoid
something.
Thoughts of you
drown out my sleep,
wakeful,
I wonder where you are.
your eyes told me you
could not accept the answers
and your arms told me
you didn’t want to
let go.
Our aimless parallels finally
diverged to avoid
something.
Thoughts of you
drown out my sleep,
wakeful,
I wonder where you are.
DeepAsleep
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Jul 17, 2004
- Posts
- 774
You were gone and I couldn't sleep.
Now you're back and I still can't sleep.
My heart's been tapdancing on my stomach
since you met me for coffee,
and I don't need the caffeine
to stay awake.
I've got this memory of you
with your hand on your shoulder
and that long, pretty neck
like outstretched twilight.
It keeps me up well enough.
Drinking beer at three thirty, honey,
staring at the wall and thinking of your
goddam
beautiful
face.
"I don't smile for anyone in the morning,"
you said,
"Not like I did for you,"
you said,
"No one looks at me like you do,"
you said,
"You were the best thing that ever happened to me,"
you said.
Honey,
madwoman with the gypsy hair,
moon goddess with the pretty hips
and softest lips,
honey
I'm still happening,
I never left.
Come home,
there's nothing to forgive.
Come home,
or stop looking at me like that,
stop trailing your fingers across my back
like you don't want to let go,
when you hold me.
~D.A.
Quietly crazy in little rooms, where headlights paint bars on the ceiling and you should be there.
Now you're back and I still can't sleep.
My heart's been tapdancing on my stomach
since you met me for coffee,
and I don't need the caffeine
to stay awake.
I've got this memory of you
with your hand on your shoulder
and that long, pretty neck
like outstretched twilight.
It keeps me up well enough.
Drinking beer at three thirty, honey,
staring at the wall and thinking of your
goddam
beautiful
face.
"I don't smile for anyone in the morning,"
you said,
"Not like I did for you,"
you said,
"No one looks at me like you do,"
you said,
"You were the best thing that ever happened to me,"
you said.
Honey,
madwoman with the gypsy hair,
moon goddess with the pretty hips
and softest lips,
honey
I'm still happening,
I never left.
Come home,
there's nothing to forgive.
Come home,
or stop looking at me like that,
stop trailing your fingers across my back
like you don't want to let go,
when you hold me.
~D.A.
Quietly crazy in little rooms, where headlights paint bars on the ceiling and you should be there.
eagleyez
going up
- Joined
- Jan 11, 2003
- Posts
- 22,879
Under Monterey Pines
Watercolored shadows
Lean East,
And you are a Western Peninsula
Where the wooly otters
Float on their backs
And crack Abalone and
Reveal that hidden rainbow,
While the snow deepens
Here,
And four fat crows
Dance in a circle
Where the Lupin
Begins to move up,
Never soon enough yet
Always on time.
Watercolored shadows
Lean East,
And you are a Western Peninsula
Where the wooly otters
Float on their backs
And crack Abalone and
Reveal that hidden rainbow,
While the snow deepens
Here,
And four fat crows
Dance in a circle
Where the Lupin
Begins to move up,
Never soon enough yet
Always on time.
DeepAsleep
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Jul 17, 2004
- Posts
- 774
Went onto the res, yesterday.
What the land's been reserved for,
other than trash and emptiness,
I'll never fucking know.
Saw an eagle, picking at carrion,
surrounded by red-headed vultures.
I passed in the car,
staring out the window
until I almost ran off the road.
It's a strange place, though.
The air isn't the same
and there are dreams.
What the land's been reserved for,
other than trash and emptiness,
I'll never fucking know.
Saw an eagle, picking at carrion,
surrounded by red-headed vultures.
I passed in the car,
staring out the window
until I almost ran off the road.
It's a strange place, though.
The air isn't the same
and there are dreams.
eagleyez
going up
- Joined
- Jan 11, 2003
- Posts
- 22,879
a colorless boulderfield is
embroidered by the last winters moon-
as prevailing currents reflect
high beams and ice light mimicry
along riveroads while a silver rail recalls
mudfoot canyons and the braile of
migrating birds.
the cabbage mill fallout
corrodes the hardest wooden floors
where the industry is underfoot
and all that is forgotten
softens in longer days
and the blooms in the algae weaveries
beg the sun...
to stand again caped in vestments
anchored in blue clay.
embroidered by the last winters moon-
as prevailing currents reflect
high beams and ice light mimicry
along riveroads while a silver rail recalls
mudfoot canyons and the braile of
migrating birds.
the cabbage mill fallout
corrodes the hardest wooden floors
where the industry is underfoot
and all that is forgotten
softens in longer days
and the blooms in the algae weaveries
beg the sun...
to stand again caped in vestments
anchored in blue clay.
Angeline
Poet Chick
- Joined
- Mar 11, 2002
- Posts
- 27,199
I live with someone who walks around and plays his guitar and sings. I just thought I'd record a song I heard earlier today. He did it in about five minutes too, that spontaneous poet.
I'm just the editor.
He read it and described himself as a blithering idiot, but I think it's pretty funny.
The Ballad of Pauline
Mighta been nerves,
but she mighta been
sittin on her shirt just thinkin
about talkin to Pauline,
thinkin bout walkin
down them scary stairs
with the big ice patch
to take the test.
Pauline hear me now,
I aint got no money,
I ain’t got no chow.
I’m flat dead in the water.
My car went flat dead in the water,
and got towed to Sears.
Pauline hear me now
I aint got no money,
I ain’t got no chow.
But Pauline you can handle it,
get your monkey to handle it.
Go get your little monkey now
and plow some snow. You can
get your monkey Pauline
and make this old place grow
while I’m upstairs with the people
who don’t really care,
oh Pauline dont’cha know.
I froze for weeks
and I froze for months
until he fixed those pipes quick as can be.
He’s the monkey.
What would you do
without that little homo sapiens?
You'd go outta business, Pauline.
Well my husband died six years ago,
and left me in this rattle-down notel motel,
but I’m glad he died anyway.
He went mad in 73 and never came back.
Whaddaya mean ya can’t pay your rent?
Is that what you’re tryin to tell me son?
Oh no no, but Pauline Pauline,
purtiest girl I ever seen,
prettiest girl in the whole wide world,
Pauline cut me a break, oh please Pauline.
I got a bottle of wine
that makes it easy to stand in front of you
with your teary eyes and your tiny pupils,
Pauline. and all your crackers,
Your kitchen full a all them crackers,
oh Pauline.
But if that’s your last answer
I guess I’ll go on up and crack open
that bottle of wine
and fall off that scary deck, Pauline.
Then I’m callin my lawyer.
Sol Liebowitz is his name
or maybe it was Arnold Katz,
but I’m pretty sure it was Liebowtiz,
and he’s the man.
There's danger on those stairs,
either I don’t pay you now
or you can meet my lawyer,
oh Pauline. You'll still get your money,
but I might get some too then Pauline.
I'm just the editor.
He read it and described himself as a blithering idiot, but I think it's pretty funny.
The Ballad of Pauline
Mighta been nerves,
but she mighta been
sittin on her shirt just thinkin
about talkin to Pauline,
thinkin bout walkin
down them scary stairs
with the big ice patch
to take the test.
Pauline hear me now,
I aint got no money,
I ain’t got no chow.
I’m flat dead in the water.
My car went flat dead in the water,
and got towed to Sears.
Pauline hear me now
I aint got no money,
I ain’t got no chow.
But Pauline you can handle it,
get your monkey to handle it.
Go get your little monkey now
and plow some snow. You can
get your monkey Pauline
and make this old place grow
while I’m upstairs with the people
who don’t really care,
oh Pauline dont’cha know.
I froze for weeks
and I froze for months
until he fixed those pipes quick as can be.
He’s the monkey.
What would you do
without that little homo sapiens?
You'd go outta business, Pauline.
Well my husband died six years ago,
and left me in this rattle-down notel motel,
but I’m glad he died anyway.
He went mad in 73 and never came back.
Whaddaya mean ya can’t pay your rent?
Is that what you’re tryin to tell me son?
Oh no no, but Pauline Pauline,
purtiest girl I ever seen,
prettiest girl in the whole wide world,
Pauline cut me a break, oh please Pauline.
I got a bottle of wine
that makes it easy to stand in front of you
with your teary eyes and your tiny pupils,
Pauline. and all your crackers,
Your kitchen full a all them crackers,
oh Pauline.
But if that’s your last answer
I guess I’ll go on up and crack open
that bottle of wine
and fall off that scary deck, Pauline.
Then I’m callin my lawyer.
Sol Liebowitz is his name
or maybe it was Arnold Katz,
but I’m pretty sure it was Liebowtiz,
and he’s the man.
There's danger on those stairs,
either I don’t pay you now
or you can meet my lawyer,
oh Pauline. You'll still get your money,
but I might get some too then Pauline.
Last edited:
eagleyez
going up
- Joined
- Jan 11, 2003
- Posts
- 22,879
We were in luck
For he fingered a jewelers stone
In with the plug nickels and timberline maps
and upon noticing it,
We stopped to investigate the
Curious shell mound-all colorless and Seminaried
In the Obsidian field of shale,
Up past round top and halfway to Yolla Bolly.
So far west, we lit a fire of
Tomorrow's New Yorker and with painstaking
distraction, puzzled the fragments flat and and each become discreetly singular-
Only to rebuild the tiny mountain like her nipple surprise
Or the switchback cone
That begged navigation
In order to reach boredoms' waterline,
And the tailings from the
Smelters' excavation
Hinted of Diamonds in the lapidary
Sundown,
The maps marked and the coins tossed,
across the
Entire 5 day country-
Made for the end of mourning,
Even as the pyramid vanished
under the weight of attention, accidentally
Paid.
For he fingered a jewelers stone
In with the plug nickels and timberline maps
and upon noticing it,
We stopped to investigate the
Curious shell mound-all colorless and Seminaried
In the Obsidian field of shale,
Up past round top and halfway to Yolla Bolly.
So far west, we lit a fire of
Tomorrow's New Yorker and with painstaking
distraction, puzzled the fragments flat and and each become discreetly singular-
Only to rebuild the tiny mountain like her nipple surprise
Or the switchback cone
That begged navigation
In order to reach boredoms' waterline,
And the tailings from the
Smelters' excavation
Hinted of Diamonds in the lapidary
Sundown,
The maps marked and the coins tossed,
across the
Entire 5 day country-
Made for the end of mourning,
Even as the pyramid vanished
under the weight of attention, accidentally
Paid.
Last edited:
eagleyez
going up
- Joined
- Jan 11, 2003
- Posts
- 22,879
The vernacular is teased from the earth,
Decamarons and stairwells-
sporting tags, dropped scarves and bags of books erverywhere.
Ten stairs
A wistful sunrisen-
Finches and Sparrows, having come thousands just to get here,
Must now fight the fat crows
For last year's apples.
They have all day.
Decamarons and stairwells-
sporting tags, dropped scarves and bags of books erverywhere.
Ten stairs
A wistful sunrisen-
Finches and Sparrows, having come thousands just to get here,
Must now fight the fat crows
For last year's apples.
They have all day.
Angeline
Poet Chick
- Joined
- Mar 11, 2002
- Posts
- 27,199
squirrels don't need
those frozen old apples
they get our leftovers
and ferile cat stalks
the mantanence shed
because you finished
the ice cream left me
with two turntables
and a microphone
mennon man mennonite
man don't drive the buggy
but crack the whip
and I'll wake up.
those frozen old apples
they get our leftovers
and ferile cat stalks
the mantanence shed
because you finished
the ice cream left me
with two turntables
and a microphone
mennon man mennonite
man don't drive the buggy
but crack the whip
and I'll wake up.
cjh
orgone accumulator
- Joined
- Sep 18, 2004
- Posts
- 32,630
i went back to sleep
and slept like a rock
like the rock of ages.
though, that said, i'd
rather you'd rocked me
rocked atop of me
hips rising
hair swinging
i'd rather have seen
your eyes lit afire
lips pursed, moans fleeing
pendular breast sway
marking your rhythm
and find me, rigid
taking root inside you
so slick and gleaming
an integral link
to your rise
and swing
and eyes afire
to your purse
and moans
sway and rhythm.
gibraltar you are,
the rock of ages.
and slept like a rock
like the rock of ages.
though, that said, i'd
rather you'd rocked me
rocked atop of me
hips rising
hair swinging
i'd rather have seen
your eyes lit afire
lips pursed, moans fleeing
pendular breast sway
marking your rhythm
and find me, rigid
taking root inside you
so slick and gleaming
an integral link
to your rise
and swing
and eyes afire
to your purse
and moans
sway and rhythm.
gibraltar you are,
the rock of ages.
Angeline
Poet Chick
- Joined
- Mar 11, 2002
- Posts
- 27,199
So hence it has come-
You deem me irrigator of the world
Where still the ice-jams steer
Backwaters of mighty rivers
Into emerald pools of evergreens and pollen-
Just as in every year.
Still I confess to the mighty bird-
"I cannot fly," and
Slipslide from the mule and
Into the Mud, or
Lay like Proust
In a white bedshirt and dip
A fresh quill pen but write no worlds.
Hence it has come
You make me dambreaker
Of my making,
Speechless when the days
are filled with these salt-filled tears-
Yes, hence it has come and
I confess to the sky
That I no longer see blue
In heavens eye.
written by Eagleyez
who never knows why.
You deem me irrigator of the world
Where still the ice-jams steer
Backwaters of mighty rivers
Into emerald pools of evergreens and pollen-
Just as in every year.
Still I confess to the mighty bird-
"I cannot fly," and
Slipslide from the mule and
Into the Mud, or
Lay like Proust
In a white bedshirt and dip
A fresh quill pen but write no worlds.
Hence it has come
You make me dambreaker
Of my making,
Speechless when the days
are filled with these salt-filled tears-
Yes, hence it has come and
I confess to the sky
That I no longer see blue
In heavens eye.
written by Eagleyez
who never knows why.
Last edited:
Angeline
Poet Chick
- Joined
- Mar 11, 2002
- Posts
- 27,199
Still I confess to the mighty bird-
"I cannot fly," and
Slipslide from the mule and
Into the Mud, or
Lay like Proust
In a white bedshirt and dip
A fresh quill pen but write no worlds.
Feel free to use my login anytime, but especially when you write a verse like that.
"I cannot fly," and
Slipslide from the mule and
Into the Mud, or
Lay like Proust
In a white bedshirt and dip
A fresh quill pen but write no worlds.
Feel free to use my login anytime, but especially when you write a verse like that.
