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    marye
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  • trailbird
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    To Believe
    To Believe11/10/17 I have died a thousand deaths Still you take away my breath And Lord I need you by my side Or I won't make it through the night You've shown me things I never knew There's mystery in all you do And even if the sun don't shine I'll love you 'till the end of time You lift me up and lead me on You gave me hope when it was gone I saw your smile through my tears And knew there's nothing left to fear Some things we aren't meant to see And some things they won't ever be As long as it's still you and me There's still a reason to believe chorus And yes, there's still a magic we can share It's running through our fingers and it's floating in the air And yes, oh baby yes I still believe If we try we can find everything we need The seasons come the seasons go There's always something new to know Cause nothing ever stays the same The weather always wants to change So feel the sun and watch the storm And let each day a new love form A vision of what's meant to be To hold us for eternity And yes, there's still a magic we can share It's running through our fingers and it's floating in the air And yes, oh baby yes I still believe If we try we can find everything we need
  • Randall Lard
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    The Manifestations of the Voyage
    my house's stairway is seizedwith vertigo. Matter having forsaken its laws, we land in hell, ascending to heaven. Shadows move along ladders under the silence of ordinary things there is another silence: it belongs neither to the leaves nor to the dead with a crown of birds circling him a child is running in an abandoned house the stairway takes the measure of its own emptiness I myself am the stairway that Time has used in its funeral course wheels lift water in the gardens of Hama and come down not waiting for the river to put out the fire Here we are left with the river Seine and Paris's poisons. I prefer gardens where linden trees get ready for a lunar voyage The stairway that separates my room from my memory whispers in my ear... I am not at the mercy of men since trees live in my fantasies men and trees long for fire and call for the rain I love rains which carry desires to oceans. Between one airplane and another space is disoriented stars sneak into holes and brides go naked to wells their innocence wanes under our eyes You and I are made from a worm-eaten wood The Word has sunk we are left with no cry gesture or gaze silence to us is forbidden. We are threatened neither by life nor by death nor forced to admire the Spring I found earth-castles on the edge of the desert's torrents I took their marble stairs but could not find my way either up or down then I understood that I was in a state of non-reason and non-madness and that the gardens of Andalusia were standing ready to die. Two cities Two tears Let insanity keep between its skirts legs within its black eyes the fright of my adolescence and the nocturnal walk on the hills: which hill? I mean the kingdom that a man carries in his gut when his love's fulfilled. Two cities which are neither Beirut nor Damascus two tears: neither of alcohol nor of rain Yes there has been a truck and a blue-eyed woman from Russia —grey olive tree— I was a butterfly caught by a fire: neither the day's not the night's but the incandescence that radiates from the body like a receding sickness, Let tombs stay open! The stairway which leads to my room borrows its metals from Babylon The Prophet's Ascension had two movements we fell into whirlpools of mud and the wind followed his horse A tempest went after the sun's steps The Prophet swam through waves of clouds a river of gold carried his vessel and away from the sun he reached Paradise a Paradise made of light. The stairway which leads to my room leads to an observatory I own two telescopes to observe stars and black holes and take mechanized stairs which advance with no advance my hair spins with sunflowers Illegitimate is this linden tree which shakes by my door let us get ready for Hell! Cursed be messengers tossing about water's tranquility and building forest fences Oh that the wind go quicker than us! that we may be smothered by light! This linden tree standing by my door weights heavy on my days I will finally marry it and we shall bring children condemned to terror this tree looks at me with insistence: It will be kept waiting until Time's end. - Etel Adnan from "The Manifestations of the Voyage" from The Spring Flowers Own & The Manifestations of the Voyage.
  • jacob sackin
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    Story that includes over 150 Dead songs
    Check out my new 75-page novella, 'The Grateful Dead' that includes characters, places, scenes, and phrases from over 150 Grateful Dead songs. See if you can find them all! Synopsis: Jed tries to decide whether to return to Tennessee or stay in the land of Fennario where he lives the good life in a house with his friends: Cassidy, Mason, Stephen, August West, and Jack Straw. Here is the link to the story: https://wordpress.com/posts/drawingsstories.wordpress.com Jacob Sackin www.jacobsackin.com
  • Randall Lard
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    The Artist's Duty
    So it is the duty of the artist to discourage all traces of shameTo extend all boundaries To fog them in right over the plate To kill only what is ridiculous To establish problems To ignore solutions To listen to no one To omit nothing To contradict everything To generate the free brain To bear no cross To take part in no crucifixion To tinkle a warning when mankind strays To explode upon all parties To wound deeper than the soldier To heal this poor obstinate monkey once and for all To have kids with pretty angels To display his dancing seed To sail only in polar seas To laugh at every situation To besiege all their cities To exhaust the primitive To follow every false track To verify the irrational To exaggerate all things To inhabit everyone To lubricate each proportion To experience only experience To deviate at every point To offer no examples To dismiss all support To make one monster at least To go underground immediately To smell the shark's ass To multiply all opinions To work only in the distance To extend all shapes To acquire a sublime reputation To consort forever with the runaway To sport the glacial eye To direct all smouldering ambitions To frequent only the exterminating planets To kidnap the phantom's first-born To forego no succulent filth To masquerade as the author of every platitude To overwhelm the mariner with improper charts To expose himself to every ridicule To ambush their blow-nose Providence To set a flame in the high air To exclaim at the commonplace alone To cause the unseen eyes to open To advance with the majesty of the praying serpent To contrive always to be caught with his pants down To sprinkle mule-milk on the lifted brows of virgins To attach no importance whatever to his activity To admire only the absurd To be concerned with every profession save his own To raise a fortuitous stink on the boulevards of truth and beauty To desire an electrifiable intercourse with a female alligator To lift the flesh above the suffering To forgive the beautiful its disconsolate deceit To send the world away to crawl under his discarded pedestals To have the cunning of the imperilled wave To hide his lamentations in the shredded lungs of the tempest To recommend stone eyelashes for all candid lookers To attribute every magnificence to himself To maintain that the earth is neither round nor flat but a scomaphoid To flash his vengeful badge at every abyss To be revolted by only the sacred cow which piddles at the toes of the swamp To kneel with the blind and drunk brigands and learn their songs To happen To embrace the intemperate hermaphrodite of memory It is the artist's duty to be alive To drag people into glittering occupations To return always to the renewing stranger To observe only the funereal spectator To assume the ecstasy in all conceivable attitudes To follow the plundering whirlpool to its source To cry out nervously with every knock To stock his shelves with plaintive confessions and pernicious diaries To outflow the volcano in semen and phlegm To be treacherous when nothing is to be gained To enrich himself at the expense of everyone To reel in an exquisite sobriety To blush perpetually in gaping innocence To drift happily through the ruined race-intelligence To burrow beneath the subconscious To defend the unreal at the cost of his reason To obey each outrageous impulse To commit his company to all enchantments To rage against the sacrificing shepherds To return to a place remote from his native land To pursue the languid executioner to his hall bedroom To torment the spirit-lice To cover the mud with distinguished vegetation To regain the emperor's chair To pass from one world to another in carefree devotion To withdraw only when all have been profaned To contract every battering disease To peel off all substances from the face of horror To glue himself to every lascivious breast To hurl his vigorous cone into every trough To unroll the hide from that repugnant rhinoceros Time To refrain from no ownership To crowd the squat-rumped centuries into his own special residence To plunge beyond their smoking armpits - Kenneth Patchen
  • Randall Lard
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    Prerequisites for Preservation
    we're gonna need to get organizedlive beyond boundaries soften our hearts talk to each other we're gonna need to leave behind our baggage relinquish our comfort release our control co-exist we're gonna need to give up our addictions confront our pain ask for help give more than we take we're gonna need to dream bigger work harder get dirty take time we're gonna need to remember we're gonna need to forgive we're gonna need to let go we're gonna need to let go we're gonna need to feel fully revive our intuition make up our minds enact change we're gonna need to look at ourselves reconcile our ignorance sacrifice shame make amends we're gonna need to need less peel away the nonessential go hungry break a sweat we're gonna need to heal our fears tell our secrets share with our enemies love ourselves we're gonna need to study existence refine our dreams mediate our shadows cure our disbelief we're gonna need to practice magic we're gonna need to cherish water we're gonna need to grieve we're gonna need to move on we're gonna need to stay focused we're gonna need to be strong tend our commitment to beauty fuel our devotion to truth we're gonna need to pray we're gonna need to follow through endure burning we're gonna need to surrender we're gonna need to trust we're gonna need to give light we're gonna give light we are light we are - Naima Penniman
  • Randall Lard
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    American Smooth
    We were dancing - it must havebeen a foxtrot or a waltz, something romantic but requiring restraint, rise and fall, precise execution as we moved into the next song without stopping, two chests heaving above a seven-league stride - such perfect agony, one learns to smile through, ecstatic mimicry being the sine qua non of American Smooth. And because I was distracted by the effort of keeping my frame (the leftward lean, head turned just enough to gaze out past your ear and always smiling, smiling), I didn't notice how still you'd become until we had done it (for two measures? four?) - achieved flight, that swift and serene magnificence, before the earth remembered who we were and brought us down. - Rita Dove
  • Randall Lard
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    Love Dogs
    One night a man was crying, "Allah! Allah!" His lips grew sweet with the praising, until a cynic said, "So! I have heard you calling out, but have you ever gotten any response?" The man had no answer to that. He quit praying and fell into a confused sleep. He dreamed he saw Khadir, the guide of souls, in a thick, green foliage. "Why did you stop praising?" "Because I've never heard anything back." "This longing you express is the return message." The grief you cry out from draws you toward union. Your pure sadness that wants help is the secret cup. Listen to the moan of a dog for its master. That whining is the connection. There are love dogs no one knows the names of. Give your life to be one of them. - Rumi
  • slo lettuce
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    Happy Bicycle Day :)
    All the plans That were made Let them die Let them fade... After all's said and done Only here a moment Then the moment's gone I'll spend the day in my own way from In My Own Way - Ray LaMontagne 'Ouroboros'
  • Randall Lard
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    monk music
    Music functions in a pattern. Patterns. Patterns function in a whiz; the worse for patternistry which is not there. The gems of few lines. Then - music functions whole, patterns into system patterns. Thus do patterns become history and music - forms. Yes, do pages of phrases write motion, still things - that move, that have lines in mystery, because the best music then forms benign of misery. Blues yes! The blues do. But there is the music -in the blues that do and mercuriate to fire straight lines, non-curve, in monohorizontal unperplexed – in placate history with story-flight that flies faster than the bumblebees, yet with a blue aura: time in history does form this semblance, gravity in norm as unquested and easy, easily drawn. Straight go: time as music alive between the heats -plus-non-plus quicker in deed than Hurricane Jackson the heavyweight, more Alice in Wonderland before the feet think twice is Monk's music is. Feeling driving non-driving diz. - Henry Grimes
  • Randall Lard
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    Being Human
    I wonder if the sun debates dawnsome mornings not wanting to rise out of bed from under the down-feather horizon if the sky grows tired of being everywhere at once adapting to the mood swings of the weather if clouds drift off trying to hold themselves together make deals with gravity to loiter a little longer I wonder if rain is scared of falling if it has trouble letting go if snow flakes get sick of being perfect all the time each one trying to be one-of-a-kind I wonder if stars wish upon themselves before they die if they need to teach their young how to shine I wonder if shadows long to just-for-once feel the sun if they get lost in the shuffle not knowing where they’re from I wonder if sunrise and sunset respect each other even though they’ve never met if volcanoes get stressed if storms have regrets if compost believes in life after death I wonder if breath ever thinks of suicide if the wind just wants to sit still sometimes and watch the world pass by if smoke was born knowing how to rise if rainbows get shy back stage not sure if their colors match right I wonder if lightning sets an alarm clock to know when to crack if rivers ever stop and think of turning back if streams meet the wrong sea and their whole lives run off-track I wonder if the snow wants to be black if the soil thinks she’s too dark if butterflies want to cover up their marks if rocks are self-conscious of their weight if mountains are insecure of their strength I wonder if waves get discouraged crawling up the sand only to be pulled back again to where they began if land feels stepped upon if sand feels insignificant if trees need to question their lovers to know where they stand if branches waver at the crossroads unsure of which way to grow if the leaves understand they’re replaceable and still dance when the wind blows I wonder where the moon goes when she is in hiding I want to find her there and watch the ocean spin from a distance listen to her stir in her sleep effort give way to existence - Naima Penniman
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By suggestion, a place for the poets among us to post their words.
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What if the Sun had phases like the Moon?Would an early waning gibbous be like an August afternoon?
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What is everywhereCannot be put inside Somewhere The right idea cannot be Contained within a timezone The engines are running There's lots of Pushing and shoving And not enough loving It must be Christmas time Everywhere will not be Found anywhere Love cannot be contained Within a time zone Beyond, beyond, Above and beyond.
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You point at the moonI look at your finger You open the door I bring all my friends to party You don't know what to do You are tearing out your hair You hold the pebbles out For me to grasp I spit in your hand Grasshopper, who taught you How to act this way Carry water carry hay What are you teaching me Anyway? I want to be a Warrior not a farmer Ow Ow Ow Okay!
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You must have sat with himFor those who've sat with him Have that same Look in their eyes For the rest of their lives Nobody else knows Is it a good look Or just plain loco But you're such A happy bunch And so happy to serve To serve the need Of those around you We hope it's good for you Because you make it So good for us To live and grow.
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Should old acquaintance be forgot,and never brought to mind ? Should old acquaintance be forgot, and old lang syne ? CHORUS: For auld lang syne, my dear, for auld lang syne, we'll take a cup of kindness yet, for auld lang syne. And surely you'll buy your pint cup ! and surely I'll buy mine ! And we'll take a cup o' kindness yet, for auld lang syne. CHORUS We two have run about the slopes, and picked the daisies fine ; But we've wandered many a weary foot, since auld lang syne. CHORUS We two have paddled in the stream, from morning sun till dine† ; But seas between us broad have roared since auld lang syne.
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Headed to Mags for acup of brown Down by the tracks The crap treatment place End of town. Down to the lake to Feed the ducks With leftover waffles and other stuff. And to mayhaps Enjoy a bit of the green Mountains of which I so love. Over to the boathouse to fancy me a salty skipper Plying the waves In all sorts of storms In all kinds of weather Now I stroll the sidewalks Waiting to go into the show where we can let it flow
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Check mailPay bills Go to store Get food Walk around Breathe air Try to smile Act like I care Clean up Sit down Get up Look around
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You came yelling after me"I thought you were dead!" No, very much alive, instead "Did you have a good NYE?" NO, was all you said You are a bigger man Then the rest of us They couldn't break you So they drugged you Right out of your head Willy Lee Willard You are my friend Forever we walk Through the roses So red
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acupuncture the hidden eye. shinto soak from darkened stone. seed ghostly beautiful fire. sink cluster mirrors. a wondered speckled karma. spirit spiral. sun initiation in stoned sunshine. soma shaker dead seashore tree. fire tongues the glimmer mount. fly into thunder and drip the bell immanence. who found the lost rose in summer's turn on? flicker night flicker, parched throat the communal balance, remembered humidity for the childhood steep. they are still there. reverberate that sensual cave.
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What algorithmic perversities reside beside my Gmail?I harvested this morning's crop for a closer inspection: Sodimate screw feeder Volumetric screw feeder Silo unloader Bulk bag dischargers Farmers & Ranchers Tell us what Americans should know Agriculture is NOT a dirty word If agriculture isn't dirty, they must be talking hydroponics For a transactional analysis to yield this food for thought
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Drop deadbeauty said Not so fast make it last
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Follow intuitive certainties welcome acts of self determinationImplore transparency, accept hidden instinct of this noble incident. Mediums must be maintain, surround silently in the space between Anonymous nuance, obligated to reveal where there's nowhere to hide. Reprove an actualized notion of promised forbearance Acknowledge assimilated presence accommodating a nearing approach. Spontaneous reflection immersed in hearts' definition Delicate as a flowers contrast, comparable complexities. Reasoning at a distance this familiar mystery Resolve invisible hint, permeable clue. Meditations confess, skull after-thought third person response Inner voices witnessed in first person narration. Ignore the apathy, senses rebuke the gray Sighs and dramatic pauses reinvent the inevitable. Wind resonates a dissonant harmony Playing hide and seek in the steps left behind. Transcend, source of origin constant remnant agrees to abide Shake tribute offerings of burnt dust from sandals. Ghost sorrow, a hundred years gone. Discovered through the eyes of strangers. Ventriloquist atones throwing voice into a mute phantom Breathe outside of the self, adhere then disappear. For the fortune of redemption returns us to where we began. Promised in the offerings of yesterdays rain.
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In the cold of WinterWhen the winds blow across The Frozen lake They found his body In The Morning On the street. No shelter Would take him in He had a reputation as a troublemaker Not even a church would do what Jesus said In sub-zero temps. So he was sleeping in his shoes Neil Young style Thinking: He's be better off dead As he panhandled change On the corner for his bottle He drank his fill and stumbled on the ice and fell on the sidewalk So good to lie down He fell asleep And froze to death. Was it you Who passed him by letting him be Anxious to get home Paying more attention To your smart phone?
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Last time I went to the doctorShe suggested me to take pills, Exercise more and eat better. Then wrote notes about our talk That a nurse read to me Three days later. Your blood pressure was high She hasn't been taking her pills Her mood was bad, She isn't taking her SRI pills "I strongly believe in Prozac She had said sternly Looking into my eyes...., As she wrote the prescription. My doctor is a 25 year old woman Who was picked Over a more capable candidate Because the staff found her Easier to deal with. She oversees the Community Health Center That is in such disarray She can't possibly manage it And practice medicine at The same time. Rationed health care For the poor Equals an equation Not easily held in the heart. I looked into her eyes And knew she couldn't handle it. She knew she couldn't handle it. Because of her MDeity Complex She continued juggling Her own psychiatric appointments Around her patients pre-made schedules Inconveniencing every one. After I spoke with the nurse Who read me the notes From my last visit I said: What got lost in the translation? I thought to myself, My God, The adult world of medicine Is all screwed up because of the Insurance-Pharmaceutical Industrial complex That recently mixed up the production lines in Lincoln, Nebraska and put Percocet in Excedrin packages I saw it on the CBS news Scott Pelley was quite alarmed But I flew out the door And managed to scavenge 400 Of them not off the shelves yet. I fired my doctor Said she suffered from ADD and prescribed 20mg of Aderall for her And asked her to take off' Her halo and honestly ask If she was capable of managing This practice serving More than 5000 people. I also knew she was on (:happy:) pills And wouldn't take my advice. Stay away from doctors They'll kill you More often Than heal you. "I don't buy health insurance" My friend said. "I spend my money on organic real food".
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I guess when an ethnicityCounts six million dead It's people will always Be filled with dread Fearing that the worst Will always happen, The damn will soon burst They'll all be Riding in the hearse. Could it be They count on thee To come to their rescue And keep themselves free? Thee doesn't agree Way up in that tree Wake up And learn to see! Cries Thee Reason with caution Let others persuade Do not carry on With that shrill tirade For don't you see? Unintended consequences Lead to countries Building Fences Beefing up their defenses. Hit them in In the pocketbook And take away Their rook Then the whole world shall see That your country Did not Act Hysterically. (Based on reports that Israel plans to attack underground nuclear sites near Qom unilaterally in April, May or June of this year, based on it's intelligence estimate of Iran's probable nuclear capabilities)
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My name is Nardo, butThe other kids call me different names I don't care what the other kids say My name is Nardo, and I can Keep my wheels on the track And I can hug a curve, so I punch it Skim the wheel and listen To the crowd roar, They always say "Burn, Nardo, burn, watch your speed Around the next turn", So what can I do, But say a prayer, and burn So fast around the track, Why do I Keep coming back, Keep coming back Why do I keep coming back around? So I keep my wheels on the track And I still know how to hug a curve
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Walk along the evening tideHum a lonesome blue light tune Got no rider by my side Save this pale old crescent moon Clocks have gotten out of hand Pockets turned out hold no bread Time to fly to never land Watch a crown flip a pawn its head There upon the rippling waves Wrestling with follies of flight All that's lost turns all that saves Rise or fall it's black and white A flash of green alit this way Be still in motion she said Wake to dream another day Rest is best left to the dead She said be still in motion Hover like a hummingbird I said be still in motion Might as well since life's absurd She said be still in motion Take a chance it won't be long I said be still in motion Find the silence in the song
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Totally rockin' poem, Mike, yeah!!! Just popping up to say I posted a few more vids under the "DeadCoversProject", check them out if you like, they are posted by 'mysteriongalaxy'. The 'Lazy River Road' I would like to dedicate here to two of the nicest people on the planet, Robert Hunter and xian, both who reached out to help at the worst point in my life, and looking back, if those are the two hands that reach out when you fall, that is an angels dream. This one is for you two, wherever you be. me
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I should mention that "Be Still In Motion" is ©2011, as part of my Master's thesis, which is a play titled Waiting For The Show. If you, or anybody else, would like to set it to music, I'd be interested to hear how it turns out; I've always imagined a sonic setting along the lines of "Touch of Grey", but maybe others will envision it differently. Thanks again.
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Inflect those verbsin the past tense when I'm gone, maybe carve them into stone, but not too soon; I still have so much work to do.
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More verse from my play Waiting for the Show; this one's a parody of John Lennon's "Working-Class Hero": In a world strung out on terror and greed Jonesing for success in excess all succeed Fix me up with coffee, tobacco and weed A working class speedball is all that I need A working class speedball is all that I need The world only imagines things to be bought By souls sold into slavery for a recycled plot I free myself buying coffee, tobacco and pot A working class speedball is all that I need A working class speedball is all that I need All you need is love but they want to see the cash But why bust your nut shagging after flashy trash When you can drink coffee, smoke tobacco and some hash A working class speedball is all that you need A working class speedball is all that you need If the world is a hemorrhoid, a pain in the ass Then, like other things, its days too must pass Until then, I'll take coffee, tobacco and grass A working class speedball is all that I need A working class speedball is all that I need Falling out of bed and into the abyss I heard this whispered by a whiskered walrus: Drink coffee, smoke tobacco and canna-bissss A working class speedball is all that you need A working class speedball is all that you need If you want to be a hero, then don't follow me If you want to be a hero, well don't follow me
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You good over there, dude?Yeah, I'm good, good as I can get As long as I don't have to Come down yet. Or head back To town too soon, or join in with Whatever it is that the rest of you do. Yeah, I'm good, good as it gets Having to watch all of you Building this mess that smells Really bad and sounds even worse. And you all look so unhappy Riding around in and talking on your Cells. Is it worth it to you For you to do what you did? A simple life of being nice Requires none of this. Yeah, I'm good, so good, good as I can get. Long as I don't have to come down yet Or head to town too soon Or join in with building All of this mess.
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Finish up the month with'Sing Me Back Home', by Merle Haggard. Posted by 'mysteriongalaxy' on youtube. Thanks dead.net, for DeadCoversProject. Whoever thought of it, give them more money and a bigger office. Please. Thankyou.
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sink deep in chocolate sheetswreathed in butterfly smoke awakened soak pastel waves elegant heat absinthe pillow triangle palms waves of underwater soft skin awakening wrapped and stroked sunken communion dark brown coffee as night expands caramel tongues and aching salt
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dead leaves still cling to barren limbsas the first day of spring's sun casts afternoon shadows over still frozen ponds sense of foreboding as slanting spring rays cause sunburn temps in 80s with no soft smell of earth or green budding. help! Am I the canary In the mine chirping the alarm?
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What do you know?What can you say? I think it's all OK. Yesterday's tomorrow is only here today. He chose to ride his bike along the monorail that led from the side door behind the sounding whale. A slippery silver sliver along a gentle arc dividing equal chasms of endless light and dark. Should he sample either pool or balance on the knife? Would it matter either way? Would it change his life? A tangent. A tangent! Perhaps it's up or down. A bike with wings, a tern-like thing, to gyre and to soar. Or maybe fins to dive deep where the whale has gone before. Or hold true to the rail along the ground. He pondered on the mystery. He thought about the history that would yet unfold when today would be the yesterday of tomorrow.
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I tend to spend my timethinking about the moment we live in Narrow my thinking for milliseconds in existence's instance
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The future has not come,The past has gone by. Catch this moment If you can. Thinking about it Slays 10,000 Buddhas In one second. Live and act Genuinely in one moment. All Bodhisattvas rejoice, All Buddhas praise you!
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The Talking Heads: Life During Wartime Heard of a van that is loaded with weapons, packed up and ready to go Heard of some gravesites, out by the highway, a place where nobody knows The sound of gunfire, off in the distance, I'm getting used to it now Lived in a brownstone, lived in the ghetto, I've lived all over this town This ain't no party, this ain't no disco, this ain't no fooling around No time for dancing, or lovey dovey, I ain't got time for that now Transmit the message, to the receiver, hope for an answer some day I got three passports, a couple of visas, don't even know my real name High on a hillside, the trucks are loading, everything's ready to roll I sleep in the daytime, I work in the nightime, I might not ever get home This ain't no party, this ain't no disco, this ain't no fooling around This ain't no Mudd Club, or C. B. G. B.'s, I ain't got time for that now Heard about Houston? Heard about Detroit? Heard about Pittsburgh, P. A.? You oughta know not to stand by the window somebody might see you up there I got some groceries, some peanut butter, to last a couple of days But I ain't got no speakers, ain't got no headphones, ain't got no records to play Why stay in college? Why go to night school? Gonna be different this time Can't write a letter, can't send a postcard, I can't write nothing at all This ain't no party, this ain't no disco, this ain't no fooling around I'd like to kiss you, I'd love you hold you I ain't got no time for that now Trouble in transit, got through the roadblock, we blended with the crowd We got computer, we're tapping phone lines, I know that ain't allowed We dress like students, we dress like housewives, or in a suit and a tie I've changed my hairstyle so many times now, I don't know what I look like! You make me shiver, I feel so tender, we make a pretty good team Don't get exhausted, I'll do some driving, you ought to get you some sleep Get you instructions, follow directions, then you should change your address Maybe tomorrow, maybe the next day, whatever you think is best Burned all my notebooks, what good are notebooks? They won't help me survive. My chest is aching, burns like a furnace, the burning keeps me alive Try to stay healthy, physical fitness, don't want to catch no disease Try to be careful, don't take no chances, you better watch what you say. (What is this song about? Think about it!)
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Talking Heads: Burning Down The House Watch out you might get what you're after Cool babies strange but not a stranger I'm an ordinary guy Burning down the house Hold tight wait till the party's over Hold tight We're in for nasty weather There has got to be a way Burning down the house Here's your ticket pack your bag: time for jumpin' overboard The transportation is here Close enough but not too far, Maybe you know where you are Fightin' fire with fire All wet hey you might need a raincoat Shakedown dreams walking in broad daylight Three hun-dred six-ty five de-grees Burning down the house It was once upon a place sometimes I listen to myself Gonna come in first place People on their way to work baby what did you except Gonna burst into flame My house S'out of the ordinary That's might Don't want to hurt nobody Some things sure can sweep me off my feet Burning down the house No visible means of support and you have not seen nuthin' yet Everything's stuck together I don't know what you expect starring into the TV set Fighting fire with fire
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Talking Heads: Animals I'm mad...And that's a fact I found out...Animals don't help Animal think...They're pretty smart Shit on the ground...See in the dark. They wander around like a crazy dog Make a mistake in the parking lot Always bumping into things Always let you down down down down. They're never there when you need them They never come when you call them They're never there when you need them The nevere come when you call them down down down down. I know the animals...Are laughing at us They don't even know...What a joke is I won't follow...Animal's advice I don't care...If they're laughing at us. They're never there when you need them They never come when you call them They're never there when you need them The nevere come when you call them down down down down. They say they don't need money They're lvinign on nuts and berries They say animals don't worry You know animals are hairy? They think they know what's best They're making a fool of us They ought to be more careful They're setting a bad example They have untroubled lives They think everything's nice They like to laugh at people They're setting a bad example (Go ahead) Laugh at me.
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Center Seeds Sneaking goose bumps rise on outer flesh Mindful nerves communicating Science It was more than a day should hold It's true you do know lonely Lonely came in one night and with no invitation as just an absence of presence and made the flesh feel nothingness-deeper Everyone knows lonely a reminder of the deeds we partake in To possess endurance beyond a physical victory Science Compassion is a thing we think others do not feel Loyalty is richness in the heart The words embrace you so firmly they exist Waking up with only your lovers flesh, anatomy and physiology and absolutely nothing more. Vastness and Kindness amputated and sewn to heal with skilled hands and a sanitary environment Inconsistent reactions of our flesh creating a scattered cheese filled maze we thrive in but is it but a labyrinth this day beholds -as a trap to lose your head in Stitches and Peroxide. Shall we know a shortcut that avoids all dead ends. Could or can we- Know- what is unseen today? Resistances to change are self inflicted wounds mastered by pressed pulp and cartridges and a absence of lye Merciful Friends -sherbear 3/23/04 revised 4/3/12
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Come Stretch Your Sight: A sun net Come venture through dark woods and stretch your sight, 

 To an emerald meadow full overgrown. 

 Soak in the flush colors of sparkling light. 

Birds air to whisping winds and insects' drone.

 Bear the wit of the sun so sentient. 

 Swallows dive, stitching threads of energy. 

 Breathe deeply the splendor of this intent, 

 And be strung up into life's filigree. 

 Disperse your rays for the meadow you are, 

 Profoundly suckling a nurturing breast. 

 Exalt in the spirit of father star, 

 And nectar flows into life's synthesis. 

Stretch your sight into dark woods and descend; 

 The internal child can be born again. R.dillard
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Your poem is exquisite.I am ever so enthralled. Please write another, xo. Blissfully yours, sherbear --------------(----@
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Early morning calm.A pair of swans glide soundlessly beneath cloudless blue cool.
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n. pl. haiku also hai·kus1. A Japanese lyric verse form having three unrhymed lines of five, seven, and five syllables, traditionally invoking an aspect of nature or the seasons. 2. A poem written in this form. (From The American Heritage Dictionary)
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Mucking out the barn,Cows resent broken stolid peace Why must humans intrude? The 5-7-5 syllable line-up in three lines presents quite a challenge and is often ignored in painting a lovely vignette invoking the season. The Japanese impose their iron-clad discipline on us. We should not rebel but rather take it as a challenge. There is always a heavy sense of zen within a really good haiku. What is there and nothing more completely paints a perfect picture. I am forever enthralled by this particular brand of poetry, mostly due to this aspect. The more I meditate, the closer I feel to becoming one with the subject at hand in such a spare style. Perhaps I shall become good one day. It is a worthy task, both for the craft and the spirit.
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16 years 10 months
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I enjoy HaikuUnderappreciated Though it often is
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bubbles swell and burstirised on a silver stream reveries of spring.
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Blinded Luna Mothcaught in the city's night web pollinates street lights
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"If thou canst plan a noble deed,And never flag till it succeed, Through in the strife thy heart should bleed, Whatever obstacles control, Thine hour will come-go on, true soul! Thou'lt win the prize, thou'lt reach the goal." -Clarence Mackay
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This poem was written by one of my dearest offriends, resting in peace now; (yeah I know). He played in a band in NYC called The Felons in the 60's. He's highly intellectual, specific, a great shot and ever so interesting. He played guitar and I loved his acoustic stuff. We used to do a fine Bobby McGee, all crazy like. I've had this piece and others that he wrote for years and I've decided to sher it. It is used by permission and sher'd only here at dead.net and dead.net affiliates. Not for reproduction, thank you. ~Enjoy! "IF I COULD GO BACK IN TIME" By E. Drennen III October 21, 1999 When day is done & night's begun to steal across the sky, I seek out a secluded spot and think of times gone by. To visualize and fantasize on that which used to be, soothes my mind as I incline to former centuries. I dream of scenes of kings & queens and noble of the realm; of vagabonds and courtesans, and sailors at the helm. Of highwaymen; -excisemen; -smugglers in a cove; of privateers 'n buccaneers. -their chests of Spanish gold! Or scallywags; -fleet footpads; -harlequins at play! Army gunners; -Bow Street runners; -press gangs on the quay! Merchants, and street urchins, -saucy maidens in their frocks; (-and even that poor varlet hung at the Execution Dock!) I see myself drink-to-the-health of George upon-the-throne. I celebrate - with my mates - in songs now rarely known. Carousing 'round old London-town on cobblestones we'd stroll; - cavaliers and grenadiers, who flourished long ago. Then there are scenes wherein I seem to be the bright "gay-blade'; all attired like a squire; -in buckram and brocade. A baise waistcoat, a long black cloak, - a white wig of powdered hair, in tri-cornered hat with lace cravat; - I'll look so debonair! Upon my wrists, silk handkerchiefs peek out from 'neath my cuffs, while at my side a sword abides; - to ward off would-be toughs! My velvet breeches (with codpiece!) are bound to catch an eye; of young coquettes (all-in-a-sweat!) as I meander by! Yes; - in my mind I find that I'm content with thoughts like these; (- before our modern times arrived with all its miseries). And if I could, I surely would return to 'yesteryear', and leave behind these present times which hold for me no cheer.... When day is done and night's begun to steal across the sky, I seek out some secluded spot and think of times gone by. And if, my friend, you should attend, and share my frame of mind, let's join our hand's together; - and we'll both go back in time!
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Only Seen by a small Torch Light The Dragon bearing breath of fire Darkened stillness of the enveloped hour. Misty bog whitened with fog. Still trees and moss, fireflies and frogs. Tolling on the noises harkened by thee night. Frightened, Frightened, Full of Fear~ Dragon, Dragon breathes are Near~ Floating through the weeded green waters; by the moat not left ungaurded. See the Dragon hidden there Watching, Watching with opened eyes~ Move just wrong, The Darkness shall be gone Dampened air will soar with flames If in its path ~ fires will rage. Frightened, Frightened, Full of Fear~ Dragon, Dragon breathes are Near~ Castle of Grey, Twisting Away Flag of Wisdom; Wildly Whipping; Wizard of Wonder; Spells from Above and Under The Earth and The Sky; Wizard ole' Wizard~ You must know Why??? Frightened, Frightened, Full of Fear~ Dragon, Dragon breathes are Near~ Dragon, Dragon let me in~ Across the moat over to the drawn bridge. To See the Wizard, Dragon, Dragon I must see the Wizard. Frightened, Frightened, Full of Fear~ Dragon, Dragon breathes are Near~ Branches, Branches under the feet of thee Snap and Pop the rustle leaves Noise, Noises in the Night, The Dragon decides those that are right and when he feels they are truly wrong~ A breath of Fire ~ Noise be gone! Frightened, Frightened, Full of Fear~ Dragon, Dragon breathes are Near~ I know~ I sense the Dragon knows~ To the Castle a Stranger goes. Through rippling water he quickly swims, to meet; one on one~ the Stranger and Him. Frightened, Frightened, Full of Fear~ Dragon, Dragon breathes are Near~ Rearing his head as If to Attack~ I couldn't move, No turning back~ Wizard, Wizard I cried aloud Frightened, Frightened, Full of Fear~ Dragon, Dragon breathes are Near~ And out of Nowhere the Wizard Appeared, He touched the Dragon with His wand Then with a moment my fear was gone. The Dragon resettled in the misty, weeded waters; the Wizard raised his wand and these words followed: Ashes and Dust Soot and Rain Rebuild the Years May Life Regain Beads of Burden Diamonds of Truth Give Unto Me This Life's Damned Roots Toll and Trouble Disappear Not Double May Sorrow and Pain Fade to Wonder Wizard Wizard Powers Adue Abide to Me Give Me the Roots In that instant, my soul stole away from my body and my brain. It drifted above the wand afloat; it remained there silently~ Yes, t'was My Ghost. Gusting winds ripped the Air~ Frightened, Frightened Seeing My Soul Up There Though it stayed so motionless and still The Wizard Yelled and Chanted this Spell: Screaming Winds~ Years Will Give Whip and Wind The Clock of Time Back To Seal Birthing Fear Rewind and Dine On Pain's Divine Create The New and Grant I Grant a Second Time Over & Over & Over he Chanted Till the winds stopped the sin And I lay in my Mother's arms with a Soul of 70 being just born. -Sherry Baylis 3/30/1993 This piece is unique and I wrote it long ago. Enjoy it and reprint with permission only. Copyrighted December 1993. ---------------------------(----@