writing live

[butters]

calls himself 'old man'
but harry merely hides
his youthful ways behind
beard mountain-fit and
waterfall of mane

that twinkle in his eyes betray
the ruddy pulse that beats within
and feeds the stars within his brain
and throbs throughout each part of him

 

[HarryHill]

and here, and here, and here,
on the cusp of a new year.
look back, look forward
cry for both and smile the same

you're not gone down yet,
not yet, though all bets were to the contrary
you've dodged bullets and knives,
leaned over the hood of a car at 100 per,
'round that big curve on the Ventura freeway,
made it to Norwalk in fifteen flat,
cut the ignition coasted in, no sound,
just the chain running 'round the sprockets
no trouble waits when you get there,
no bangers, no assholes found
just a message from a surprised face
as you slipped the door, peeked in,
ready for anything,
he's gone down and left you
in charge

and here, and here, and here,
on the cusp of a new year
where I'd give anything
for the guns and knives and suicide rides
that should have sent me down
if I was just a little luckier
a little slower
I find I'm
at peace

 

[HarryHill]

The tears are only from the smoke
of the fire you cocked up again
rolling out the door at midnight
under a cold porch light escaping

 

[Trixareforkids]

and here, and here, and here,
on the cusp of a new year.
look back, look forward
cry for both and smile the same

you're not gone down yet,
not yet, though all bets were to the contrary
you've dodged bullets and knives,
leaned over the hood of a car at 100 per,
'round that big curve on the Ventura freeway,
made it to Norwalk in fifteen flat,
cut the ignition coasted in, no sound,
just the chain running 'round the sprockets
no trouble waits when you get there,
no bangers, no assholes found
just a message from a surprised face
as you slipped the door, peeked in,
ready for anything,
he's gone down and left you
in charge

and here, and here, and here,
on the cusp of a new year
where I'd give anything
for the guns and knives and suicide rides
that should have sent me down
if I was just a little luckier
a little slower
I find I'm
at peace

Ooh, a new favorite. Nice one Harry

 

[todski28]

Ooh, a new favorite. Nice one Harry

I second this one Harry!

 

[butters]

reaching deep
braving the well
he found sweet waters

 

[butters]

a memory of a moon
casts pale gleam
before that, too,
is gulped whole
by greedy, filthy clouds
till all that remains
is the weight of its absence

 

[HarryHill]

Aladeen: What's wrong with Crocks?
Nadal: They are the universal symbol of a man who has given up hope.

Oh poor maligned, comfortable foot gear,
ready in a moment to brave the world,
they don't really mean it; it's just that they fear,
a life built on function not style.

Fair Crock, on who derisions' hurled,
from nay sayers with feet uncomfortably curled,
let's take a walk to the end of the block,
and tell them all to suck our noteworthy cock.

 

[HarryHill]

Salubrious

almond croissants and strawberry jam? or did you have something else in mind? :halo:

..
Eight days past the last, somewhere you dreamed, smithpeter,
awakened to a knock on the door,
said no to girl scout biscuits,
watched the message pour
out ofa dusty dust ebin,
saw the shape
of an eshark's
fin.

my tongue aches for your croissant, oh sweet red
jam, dripping from my chin
will there be tea?

 

[butters]

tea for two

of course there'll be tea
but knowing you
your penchant for coffee
might be served with a twist

 

[HarryHill]

tea for two

of course there'll be tea
but knowing you
your penchant for coffee
might be served with a twist

Columbian tea
and I wonder your venue
and the message that's placed on your tin
over there say
100% Sudanese

will you wipe the jam if I should drip?
will you lick my strawberry lips
clean of cream fraiche
rhyme stumbles
frays
damn

 

[butters]

Columbian tea
and I wonder your venue
and the message that's placed on your tin
over there say
100% Sudanese

will you wipe the jam if I should drip?
will you lick my strawberry lips
clean of cream fraiche
rhyme stumbles
frays
damn

for you i'll be a linen napkin
to fold and dab
pleat and furl
origami'd
oblivious to stains
leaving you fresh
and calling for seconds

 

[HarryHill]

for you i'll be a linen napkin
to fold and dab
pleat and furl
origami'd
oblivious to stains
leaving you fresh
and calling for seconds

Each fold and fold of you
plaited, matted with sweat
I would unfurl
pick apart the stained strands
until you are
undone

 

[Trixareforkids]

Removed

 

[HarryHill]

Two whiskeys n hours later
he heads for bed, forgets to place her
nighty nite note on the table
first thing she'll see, opening those big blue's
so write a message, toss it to the wind
'I love you' she'll find it.

 

[HarryHill]

I don't want to ramble, I don't,
but; it seems I have no choice
after loosing the thought that
brought me here.

Oh dear, he's gone wordy again,
spilling ink without a plan
wasting that precious, precious time
to feed the fire within his mind.

So much to do, to see,
open another door
look, more fuel.

And watch from out your window
and see the many glows
of other rambling souls
burning just as much as me.

 

[HarryHill]

"What?" Harry's outburst stopped Carton in mid sentence.

"Don't muck about Harry, or Thaycher will have to kill you," His eyes moved down the table to the crew, "all." Their faces turned to where Thaycher cut yet another slice of jam cake, brandished his fork, and began eating again.

 

[HarryHill]

Harry's girl will tell you;
she's like to wrap him in cotton wool,
safe against the bruises sure to fall on to his world,
far across the ocean at his home upon the hill...
and Harry,
curses the failings of socialized medicine,
pours another gin, stares out his darkened window
waiting for his solitude to end
when she wraps her arms around him
soft as cotton wool

Son,
if I should die before she lands
set forth for me this simple plan
burn me in the fires of hell
and divvy up the remains
half for you as we agreed
and half spread on the Thames

 

[butters]

"What?" Harry's outburst stopped Carlton in mid sentence.

"Don't muck about Harry, or Thaycher will have to kill you," His eyes moved down the table to the crew, "all." Their faces turned to where Thaycher cut yet another slice of jam cake, brandished his fork, and began eating again.

jam cake? dya mean victoria sponge?

 

[butters]

Harry's girl will tell you;
she's like to wrap him in cotton wool,
safe against the bruises sure to fall on to his world,
far across the ocean at his home upon the hill...
and Harry,
curses the failings of socialized medicine,
pours another gin, stares out his darkened window
waiting for his solitude to end
when she wraps her arms around him
soft as cotton wool

Son,
if I should die before she lands
set forth for me this simple plan
burn me in the fires of hell
and divvy up the remains
half for you as we agreed
and half spread on the Thames

 

[HarryHill]

jam cake? dya mean victoria sponge?

Gee I must, either that or spotted dick

 

[butters]

we always knew
waiting was the hard part
after decisions made so easily
hot from the furnace

it's the cooling
reheating
reworking
that makes for endurance
trust in the tempering

so when the blade is finally drawn
fire ripples like light on oil
along its steely length
nothing brittle about it

 

[butters]

Gee I must, either that or spotted dick

victoria sponge http://marieclaire.media.ipcdigital.co.uk/11116/00002ff83/719c_orh100000w440/Victoria-Sponge.jpg more often served with a layer of cream inside as well as the jam

spotted dick is a pudding, most often served with custard and not what you're looking for at all
http://news.bbc.co.uk/media/images/38246000/jpg/_38246664_spotteddick300.jpg

off to check on dinner. think it's about ready

 

[HarryHill]

victoria sponge http://marieclaire.media.ipcdigital.co.uk/11116/00002ff83/719c_orh100000w440/Victoria-Sponge.jpg more often served with a layer of cream inside as well as the jam

spotted dick is a pudding, most often served with custard and not what you're looking for at all
http://news.bbc.co.uk/media/images/38246000/jpg/_38246664_spotteddick300.jpg

off to check on dinner. think it's about ready

Oh, that's it, perfect but Victoria sponge is such a mouthful, er, so to speak, as for the other eeeew

oh, I never asked and you never said, how did the cornbread go over with the boys

 

[HarryHill]

we always knew
waiting was the hard part
after decisions made so easily
hot from the furnace

it's the cooling
reheating
reworking
that makes for endurance
trust in the tempering

so when the blade is finally drawn
fire ripples like light on oil
along its steely length
nothing brittle about it

You told me we could do this, but gods truth butters, I cant decide if this is the hardest or easiest thing I've ever done