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POETRY - Can you write a Poem?

Where's Lefty? I have to praise his tremendous output again. Another amazing effort by JUB's poet laureate. The words flow from his fingers like water along a brook. I wish I had his grace under pressure and bravado. I wanna be a poet like the Left one, I'm so happy for him yet sad for me. I'm trembling on a rocky ledge staring out into a heartless sea right now.

My brother went into hospital Friday with gull stones or something like that. They ran a battery of tests and I guess they may have to remove his bladder. They're operating on him Saturday afternoon, and I'm a little scared. Nay; I'm a lot scared! I lost my dad a few months back and my little sister 2 years ago. I'm running out of family members.

So he gets me up there in the hospital room and asks that I supply this piece below at his funerary proceedings, like he's dying or some shit!
He's this big o' brawny bear that fancies himself an old rocker/rough and ready/tough and steady, yet he gets all sappy acting like he's not coming out from under the knife.

So I'm all, who gets the BMW? And he gives me the stink face, so I told him I'd honor his wishes unconditionally, because that's how I roll/that's a brother's love.... Besides, I couldn't afford the insurance on it anyway.

Cal[vin] rides a Triumph 650 motorcycle, and he whines and moans about the "good ol'days" way too much. I agreed to his wishes, but I know he'll be fine and live another six or seven decades just to torment his wife if nothing else.

So, I'll probably bitch slap him when he gets out of hospital! Oh yeah...I can whoop his ass--I work out and chop wood and plow the fields/okay I don't plow the fields, but I do swim quite a bit and he just sits in his jacuzzi with his o'lady and they talk about all the shit they got and their next roadtrip to Branson, Missouri to see Andy Williams and Jim Stafford! I wanna puke!
:grrr:
Oh yeah, I'll take him down like a x-mas tree in february!..|
I'll teach him a lesson about scarin' me!

I've highlighted some particularly interesting passages here, that perhaps you and The Donald could help me unravel and sort through.
I think the double-sewn seems means a biker jacket or 'colors'. And counting his friends in burnt out plugs could suggest he has buds all over the country? Maybe?

Too Old To Rock And Roll Too Young To Die
by
Ian Anderson

The old Rocker wore his hair too long, wore his trouser cuffs too tight
Unfashionable to the end --- drank his ale too light

Death's head belt buckle --- yesterday's dreams --- the transport caf' prophet of doom
Ringing no change in his double-sewn seams
in his post-war-baby gloom


He once owned a Harley Davidson and a Triumph Bonneville
Counted his friends in burned-out spark plugs, and prays that he always will

But he's the last of the blue blood greaser boys, all of his mates are doing time
Married with three kids up by the ring road
Sold their souls straight down the line

And some of them own little sports cars, and meet at the tennis club deuce
For drinks on a Sunday --- work on Monday
They've thrown away their blue suede shoes


So the old Rocker gets out his bike to make it in before he takes his leave
Up on the A-1 by Scotch Corner --- just like it used to be

And as he flies --- tears in his eyes ---
his wind-whipped words echo the final take
And he hits the trunk road doing around 120
With no room left to brake.






:cool:
 
Brother
by Layne Thomas Staley

Frozen in the place I hide
Not afraid to paint my sky with
Some who say I've lost my mind
Brother try and hope to find

You were always so far away
I know that pain so don't you run away
Like you used to do

Roses in a vase of white
Bloodied by the thorns beside the leaves
That fall because my hand is pulling them hard as I can

You were always so far away
I know that pain and I won't run away
Like I used to do

Pictures in a box at home
Yellowing and green with mold
So I can barely see your face
Wonder how that color taste

You were always so far away
I know the way so don't you run away
Like you used to do



Brother (part II)
by Shih Tzu Tylenol, Esq.

Come on ace, I've seen you fight
It's common place, your gears are tight
You hide your iron hand inside a leather glove
Thinking I won't know what it is you're made of
Then shit hits the fan and push comes to shove
You can melt that steel with a brother's love

:cool:
 
Shih Tzu,
This is in response to your post about your brother going into the hospital, and his "feeling his morbidity" request. I haven't had a chance to read the next post, and I have to run out the door immediately after posting this.

I hope it's what you're looking for.

I'm not completely sure what you are looking for from Lefty and Me re: help - I don't think you mean in rewording. Maybe in the references and inner meanings?

Ringing no change in his double-sewn seams
in his post-war-baby gloom


Double sewn seams to me speak of Blue Jeans - denim with the bright orange double stitching - Levi's, the standard of the "bad boys" of the 60's and 70's.
He's a child of the post WWII Baby boom - born in the Late 40's to 50's.
He's also a product of the Viet Nam War generation - we grew up watching the war on a 12" B&W TV in the kitchen on the 6 O'Clock news over dinner. That and the race riots of '67.
Abraham, Martin, & John. Haight-Ashbury and the Flower Children of Dan Francisco. Drugs.

Counted his friends in burned-out spark plugs, and prays that he always will
The older engines of the 60's & 70's burned through spark plugs a lot faster than they do today - counting his friends in Burned out Spark Plugs = the road trips with his biker friends - the freedom of the road and the post Viet Nam era I think. The freedom of the ride and no obligations.
I can hear the music "Born to be free, lookin' for ? or whatever comes my way" The Bruce?

For drinks on a Sunday --- work on Monday
They've thrown away their blue suede shoes

They've become "responsible adults, with boring, predictable, responsible lives.
They have become the American "Dream" of their parent's generation.
They've buried the wild freedom of their youth, AND their souls (in his eyes) to the norms of society.

his wind-whipped words echo the final take
And he hits the trunk road doing around 120
With no room left to brake.


He's a rebel to the end - he cannot defend
becoming a conformist - He's doing as I posted in an earlier thread - screamin' in a 20 mile zone. He's singing the song from Springsteen, above, that I can't remember all of the words as he takes the curve at a speed he knows will take him out of this world and into the next, a Rebel to the end, as he takes his end.

While I understand the immense desire to be able to keep the freedom and ideals of our youth,
I have a major issue with suicide. We don't give up ourselves as we "grow up and older". The fire is still burning inside. I'm still in my 20's in my mind - even if the ol' bod doesn't look it, and I can't physically do some of the things I used to do.

If you haven't, already, I recommend

Neil's (GSDX) Best Buddies Play Hard, and then Best Buddies Play Hard, Redux.
Note the time setting, too.

Best Buddies Play Hard - the original
http://www.justusboys.com/forum/showthread.php?t=89842


Redux:
http://www.justusboys.com/forum/showthread.php?t=223284

(*8*)
 
Shih Tzu,
Your follow up addendum to your poem to your brother was powerful.

And, I have to correct my post above re: Bruce Springsteen - he did "Born to Run", which is a Biker song, but the one running through my head was by Steppenwolf -
"Born to be Wild"
[ame]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CdiWEmTpwCY[/ame]
;)
 
I won't start in with the crying
Because someone near me is dying

The shell once made is never too old
A time to go that isn't too cold

The body here that you can bury deep
The soul inside that will never sleep

It lives forever and just too start
It has its place in this my heart.
-----------------
Tzu...for Dad and Sis. ^
--------------------------------
Re the nice post remark above....
Poet you'd like to forget lol

Def Levis....they were even advertised that way
And peg legs were cool with frats and vans...converse too
long before skiiny jeans HIT THE MARKET.

On that end...a little more positive spin.. Trunk road (main stream) not
tree trunk (suicide) and hes crying good bye to his youth and naive innocence.
The "real" world is closing in faster than he can stop it...EH?
 
Def Levis....they were even advertised that way
And peg legs were cool with frats and vans...converse too
long before skiiny jeans HIT THE MARKET.

On that end...a little more positive spin.. Trunk road (main stream) not
tree trunk (suicide) and hes crying good bye to his youth and naive innocence.
The "real" world is closing in faster than he can stop it...EH?

Lefty,
Thanks for the alternate view - upon reflection, I do believe your words are true!
His Last Hurrah before he joins all of his friends gone square,
Be careful out there.

[ame]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uAsV5-Hv-7U[/ame]

:wave:
 
Lefty, you're becoming more melancholic and dark in your works. Not that it's bad, but did something happen?

Now...SERMONS

Paint
The memories
The fittest title
Demons can erase
Hark
The rising moon
Above the temples
Where chants diminish
Weave
Sweeten the names
The shore is sinking
So float the show
Merge the boat
And I will be...

Surreal...
Benign...
Obscene...
Earthy...
Gravid...
Loveless...
Valid...
 
In Retrospect
by Shih Tzu Tylenol, MFA

I want my day in history's din,
one with pleasant weather
[whether that makes any sense at all]
I just gotta say we all weigh in,
albeit most like tiny feathers
[tethered to a thunder storm's balls]

©2010 Dogpill Publishing
-------------------------------------------
Shave The Planet
by Shih Tzu Tylenol

Cocktails for one thirsty world
A simple mix is here unfurled
Pour equal parts O+, sweat,* and freshly squeezed tears
Garnish with olive a shattered dream soaked in Lite beer
Serve over out-sourced jobs/crushed and peeled
Then try shaving a harvest from an empty field


©2010 Dogpill Publishing

________________________________________________
And to satisfy my dight requisite from earlier in the semester.

Folding Laundry On A Sinking Ship

by Shih Tzu Tylenol

Ice berg chain -- pouring rain -- dead of night -- wake to fight -- the pain
Goodbye mom -- can't hold on -- final dight -- you were right -- I'm gone

Remember me
And then, remember me again

Sewn are ways we used to play
Sonar waves -- goodbye gaze -- no more fear -- take these tears -- away
Post a note -- need my coat -- one last round -- going down -- he wrote

One last line -- out of time -- remember me -- then you'll see -- I'm fine

Remember me
And then, remember me again

You know where I've been so remember me, and then...
Remember me again

©2010 Dogpill Publishing




*brow sweat is the best perspiration to use, but any blood type may be substituted for O positive
Proceeds from Shave The Planet go to Floyd The Barber Institute in Two Below, Mississippi





bda7f911120def3e87b47a24374d5f6f.gif

Shave The Planet is not right for everyone. Ask your doctor if you're currently taking Nitrates for chest pain, Kaopectate stool softeners or if you're on triridozines for an earlobe infection.
Never drink from the toilet while reading Shave The Planet (although rare, some drownings have been documented). Is some cases patients reported craving dog biscuits, but it usually goes away after tasting one.
If you are allergic to peanuts, don't eat peanuts while reading Shave The Planet.
Certain types of claustrophobia and OCDs have been linked to Shave The Planet. If you
have an abnormal disdain for germaphobes that refuse to shake your hand while giving you the stink eye like you have cooties, or your eye begins twitching uncontrollably and you start packing your car for a road trip to Hollywood to stalk celebrities, discontinue using STP.
If you have a sudden urge to cash in your 401K and it lasts more than four hours contact your accountant immediately and stop reading Shave The Planet.
Don't read Shave The Planet if you're pregnant, plan on getting pregnant, know someone that's pregnant or pretend to speak with a laid back Liverpool accent and smoke menthol cigarettes listening to the Abbey Road album on vinyl.

 
Freefall,
Thanks for stopping by and joining in the Poetry Corner Postings.

Yours is definitely one I need to ponder a bit
To diffuse the meaning, and its wit.
'Tis still fairly early Sunday morn, and I can't get
my ol' cranium cranked up, and cleaned up
of Mr. Sandman's shit.

(See, it's NOT very good at all - my mind, that is.)
It's always good to have fresh blood pour into the Story and Poems forum.
Keep us back on task - we can get off topic on occasion.

It's a nice contribution. Thought provoking.
:=D: :wave:
 
Shih Tzu,
Good morning!
You're vital, creative juices I see are returning!

Recent events seem to have turned our light, lyrical, satirical efforts a bit more introspective and poignant. Powerful, VERY Powerful, even more so.

And, as for the Dight,
You've given a very good fight,
but on your record, there's still a blight,
for, if you look closely, you might
discover that you're still in arrears a might;
You don't want your social standing here to take a fright!

So, Hey, hey, Hey,
Let us Celebrate the Day,
When you can say
My dues I did pay
and come away
raising the quaigh
in a toast to all come what may.

And when you finish the tasks that now count loss,
and come before the Reredos,
let it be to Joyfully Sing
of the health of all those you love and bring
with you in your heart,
(No, Lefty, Now's NOT the time to Fart!)

For we're sure that all will come out High Gloss
Sheen of success and Lives Long to Live
with nary a grief or sorrow to give
for life's already filled and sifted our sieve,
and at you, right now, has no more sorrow to toss,

So gather together, come all that may,
to the Reredos near, our quaigh raise up in cheer
knowing our dight was a damned good fight
and we've won that fray in the light of the day.

We laugh, and we play, we cry and we weep,
all manner of feelings we share, light and deep,
Yet, in our hearts it's the friendship we keep.

While we may not be THERE, still with us you can share,
the burdens of strife, you are faced with in life,
and let us try to help lighten the load,
for many arms are better for carrying down the road.

And, if, by buffoon,
we can fill the balloon,
with hot air we can Lift,
and set adrift,
they anxieties we see
that are burdening thee.

:wave: (*8*)
 
I won't start in with the crying
Because someone near me is dying

The shell once made is never too old
A time to go that isn't too cold

The body here that you can bury deep
The soul inside that will never sleep

It lives forever and just too start
It has its place in this my heart.
-----------------
Tzu...for Dad and Sis. ^
--------------------------------
Re the nice post remark above....
Poet you'd like to forget lol

Def Levis....they were even advertised that way
And peg legs were cool with frats and vans...converse too
long before skiiny jeans HIT THE MARKET.

On that end...a little more positive spin.. Trunk road (main stream) not
tree trunk (suicide) and hes crying good bye to his youth and naive innocence.
The "real" world is closing in faster than he can stop it...EH?
I was thinking trunk road may be like a British slang term for a crossroad perhaps? Or maybe an embankment guard rail? idk In the song Aqualung he wrote some curious lines too:
An old man wandering lonely
Taking time the only way he knows
Leg hurting bad as he bends to pick a dog end
He goes down to the bog and warms his feet

Aqualung my friend
don't you start away uneasy
You poor old sod you see---it's only me

A friend came back from London and told me a dog end is slang for a discarded cigarette butt. Makes you feel sorry for the old turd even though he was a pervert of sorts.
Sitting on a park bench
Eying little girls with bad intent
Snot is running down his nose
Greasy fingers smearing shabby clothes

Drying in the cold sun
Watching as the pretty panties run
Hey Aqualung

But I love that dichotomy. Pitting positive virtues with negative qualities, so the reader must weigh the evidence and count the costs to reach his/her own conclusions.
You do that too L, and you're very good at it. Sometimes I don't know whether to smile or grab a box of tissues and ball. At the end of the day, there are caves and caverns and subdivisions to get lost in. Backstreets full of thought and wonder to wander through.

Thank you for that subtle little passage. Beautifully written, it's generous, harrowing and simple without being too austere. Many heartfelt thanks Mein guter Freund.

Lefty,
Thanks for the alternate view - upon reflection, I do believe your words are true!
His Last Hurrah before he joins all of his friends gone square,
Be careful out there.
:wave:
You've both made some terrific observations...|

Now...SERMONS

Paint
The memories
The fittest title
Demons can erase
Hark
The rising moon
Above the temples
Where chants diminish
Weave
Sweeten the names
The shore is sinking
So float the show
Merge the boat
And I will be...

Surreal...
Benign...
Obscene...
Earthy...
Gravid...
Loveless...
Valid...
Your piece is an apotheosis of informal poetic expression. Like architecture that incorporates the skeletal mechanics in the visual design, it's both ubiquitous and primordial; turbulent but tame; familiar and yet mysterious. And it's that yin and yang simplicity with your abstract playfulness that weaves a unique cloak of ambiguity.
Very interesting; it's a nice little think piece.

I want to see more now.

Folding Laundry On A Sinking Ship
by Shih Tzu Tylenol

Ice berg chain -- pouring rain -- dead of night -- wake to fight -- the pain
Goodbye mom -- can't hold on -- final dight -- you were right -- I'm gone

Remember me
And then, remember me again

Sewn are ways we used to play
Sonar waves -- goodbye gaze -- no more fear -- take these tears -- away
Post a note -- need my coat -- one last round -- going down -- he wrote

One last line -- out of time -- remember me -- then you'll see -- I'm fine

Remember me
And then, remember me again

You know where I've been so remember me, and then...
Remember me again

©2010 Dogpill Publishing
This one just spilled out of me like milk on a table.

Freefall,
Thanks for stopping by and joining in the Poetry Corner Postings.

Yours is definitely one I need to ponder a bit
To diffuse the meaning, and its wit.
'Tis still fairly early Sunday morn, and I can't get
my ol' cranium cranked up, and cleaned up
of Mr. Sandman's shit.

(See, it's NOT very good at all - my mind, that is.)
It's always good to have fresh blood pour into the Story and Poems forum.
Keep us back on task - we can get off topic on occasion.

It's a nice contribution. Thought provoking.
:=D: :wave:
Yes, well said.

Shih Tzu,
Your follow up addendum to your poem to your brother was powerful.

And, I have to correct my post above re: Bruce Springsteen - he did "Born to Run", which is a Biker song, but the one running through my head was by Steppenwolf -
"Born to be Wild"
;)
Thank you. And I love both of those songs. I have a Blue Oyster Cult album with a great live cover of Born To Be Wild.
 
Re: SONNET (for TC and Jake)

They are in love, a love they know will last
as long as they have breath, a love that grows
from day to day, a total love that knows
there is nothing to destroy it from the past

and nothing can destroy it in future years.
And when they discuss how time will change
their youthful looks to a maturer range,
each to the other says he has no fears

their love will fade, that daily joy will cease
as they enjoy their lives as bravest sailors
who will forever share their lives as one

by doing what they want to do to please
the two and (changed metaphor) as tailors
who cut their world as if its cloth were fun.
 
Whipped,
A very nice sonnet to your guys' love.
Thanks for sharing it with us.
 
OK Poets,

The snot nosed old mushbucket

that kills himself saying nice things about us

and even tears over a stupid movie went over

4,000 posts and self centered egotists everywhere

ignored him. Now What?


(!)--%--\:/(UU)(group)(UU)\:/--%--(!)
 
OK Poets,
The snot nosed old mushbucket that kills himself saying nice things about us
and even tears over a stupid movie went over 4,000 posts and self centered egotists everywhere ignored him. Now What?
(!)--%--:/(UU)(group)(UU):/--%--(!)

Oh, my heart be still. Such HI praise from our Lord Lefty of the Lascivious and Lornful Locution. I don't know that anyone has ever referred to me in such a Tender way, lol. I really didn't expect anything significant to be said, there are so many of you who have far surpassed the inconsequential 4K mark.
:cry: :lol2: :rotflmao: :alien: :clown:
 
Ok, I couldn't resist this...

This was written a few years ago and it represents a few moments of supreme happiness in my life. The original language is Spanish. Here it is in English.

Sueños

I like to look at your face when you are sleeping
Dreams of fine lace dipped in sea mist
dripping the dew of the moist air
Siren voices calling
songs of long ago
ancient melodies, forgotten,
answered by echoes from the depths of the future
stirred by your breath.

Through the night I see you standing
like the mast of a proud ship sailing the sky,
and the sound of the song “Good Night L.A.”
fills the white sails around you.

You emerge through the mist and I greet you
I await your answer but hear the wind instead.

I never know what you see through the emerald crystal sparkling in your eyes
as you look past me.

I may never know.

I kiss them shut with my fingertips
and begin to count the bleached sea shells
on the shelf across the room.

I fear I will never know.

So I bid you good night my prince,
your dreams are well guarded.
 
Long Shot,
That was a lovely ode to a love.
Your command of Ingl[FONT=&quot]é[/FONT]s es magn[FONT=&quot]í[/FONT]fico.
Mucho mejor de mi Espa[FONT=&quot]ñ[/FONT]ol.

Hache muchos a[FONT=&quot]ñ[/FONT]os desde que yo estudi[FONT=&quot]é[/FONT].

The translation flowed wonderfully.
I wouldn't mind having you post the original,
Spanish, text.
To be able to read las palabras po[FONT=&quot]é[/FONT]ticas de su mano.

And, you answered una pregunta that I had - Southern Tip of Europe -
I know where my mind's eye put you, and you have corroborated that with your
post.

Dreams are such precious things.
Thank you for sharing yours.
I hope you are a frequent contributor - it will definitely raise the reputation of this thread.

(Some of us have had a bit too much fun with our poetry, and the Purists might take offense. But that's what it was established for - all manner of verse.)

We love our verse, even though it sometimes might be perverse, or worse.

Much[FONT=&quot]í[/FONT]simas Gracias, Se[FONT=&quot]ñ[/FONT]or, por todo.
:wave: (*8*) :D
 
Freefall,
Thanks for stopping by and joining in the Poetry Corner Postings.

Yours is definitely one I need to ponder a bit
To diffuse the meaning, and its wit.
'Tis still fairly early Sunday morn, and I can't get
my ol' cranium cranked up, and cleaned up
of Mr. Sandman's shit.

(See, it's NOT very good at all - my mind, that is.)
It's always good to have fresh blood pour into the Story and Poems forum.
Keep us back on task - we can get off topic on occasion.

It's a nice contribution. Thought provoking.
:=D: :wave:

Thanks, and I think it's fine to go off tracks. After all, poetry is a mean of expressing something, from sweet to sour, from tame to wild, from clean to dirty, from pure to porn :lol: Besides, it's a brand new humour for me, after all :=D:

Now (a long one):

Moon Descending on the Temples (still connected to Sermons)

Down, behind the ethnical roofs to lie
Time to rush the static motions

[Let us pray now] Too slow
[Let us pray now] Too stranded
The slender aura [Let us pray now]
Sliding through the flawless eve

[Ease, play, top, play, blink, play, glare, play]
[Ease, play, top, play, blink, play, glare, play] Ancient chimes sit beside the horizon
[Ease, play, top, play, blink, play, glare, play] Echo to call and respond

Fading away akin to rising tides
And so the legend concurs
To the edge of the spawn

Chants for the one
Praises for the one
Omniscient
Eat and be full
Drink and be fresh

That night I gazed to the mellow night
Watching the moon descended down on
Ruins of temples forgotten by fate
Diluting, evocative, yet diaphanous

[Ease, play, top, play, blink, play, glare, play] Undying dusk
[Ease, play, top, play, blink, play, glare, play] Unmasking dawn

Everything stops their futile cycle of solace
Beneath the secretive panes there is a ceremony

The last phase to acclaim the genesis
And everything back to the start
When all is empty and contained

[Let us pray now] Too dazed
[Let us pray now] Too delayed
The rustic hours disillusioning

[Let us pray now] Too late
[Let us pray now] Too luscious
The hollow shine drains
Hide and sealed out

Down, to the steeples of oblivion
Down, and the motions turn halted
Paused

Where there used to be partisans
Are now devoid under the moon
Loose

[Let us pray now]
[Let us pray now]
[Let us pray now]
[Let us pray now]

[Ease, play, top, play, blink, play, glare, play]
The frame freezes now
 
I hesitate digging up this youthful inanity. But I still remember that frightening moment in my late teens or early twenties when I was looking for all the older guys with experience -- and then, wham!

The radiant one
smiled, and passed.
The moment done.

A drying tongue
betrayed unease.
He was so young!
 
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