Are you?

[Granny5]

Do you wonder about your friends and what they
are doing or thinking? I do and sometimes feel like
a bother asking so many question. But my best friend
loves poems so I thought I'd ask this way.

Morning

Are you sleeping in
Enjoying that floating sensation
Of drifting in and out of dreaming
Resting up from your adventure
Of spending the day with kids and
sister and friends in the sun
Are you burned to a crisp
Or covered with cute little freckles
That I love and you hate
Or are you out with the chickens
looking for hidden nests and
wondering what to do with all those eggs
__________________
for motherhubbard

[motherhubbard]

Are You...


Are you drinking your coffee
and looking at the paper like you care,
or has the warden demanded your time?
When you make the trip from your room
down the hall and through the main part of the house
and into the lions den, do you imagine you are
a martyr standing tall before the pillar of fire?
When it's over and you are relieved,
do you imagine that you are alone
in a little white house with lace curtains
and an overstuffed chair, sitting in the quiet
drinking coffee and reading the paper?

[Virgil]

Both fine poems. I enjoyed them.

Granny - I think though you misspelled crisp.

[motherhubbard]

Are you sitting in a comfortable chair
in front of the computer?
Do you snack on peanuts or divinity candy
while your fingers fly over the keyboard,
and your mind sifts through the world wide web?
Are your little dogs on your lap or at your feet?
While you surf, do you wonder of things
that were or could be, or are you focused on what is now?
When your words spill out and cover pages,
coloring the lives of others with your kindness,
do you know what you mean to them?
I wonder-
I wonder if you know, or if all you are aware of
is the pup in your lap and your rear end
going numb in that comfy chair?

[Granny5]

Virgil, I do believe you are correct! Thank you. I'm really a bad speller but I think I'll blame it on typo.....but don't believe me.

[motherhubbard]

are you...

Are you sipping espresso at your café
wearing some slacks and a button up shirt?
Did you shuffle there with your shoulders bent
or did you dance your way there like Fred Estare?
Are the ladies on the streets or at the tables lovely today?
Or maybe you are at home in front of the computer
with your chest bare and your Bermuda shorts
bunched up around your legs? Are your socks clean?
When you are done with that smoke will you go to the
bathroom or to the refrigerator
to look inside and decide that there is nothing?
Then will you dress and head for your café
hoping that the women are lovely?

[PrinceMyshkin]

Are your heads tilted
at an angle to each other
so that, no matter how apart,
you are in constant conversation,
engaged in the noble and loving
activity of raising each other?
Mother still clucking now and then
at her dearly beloved hen?
Daughter sending assurances
to mother that she's fine,
she will always be fine
--thanks to you,
and may you, darling mother,
be always fine too.

[Padma]

To all poets writing & reading here..

Are you..

Looking at those words dancing in your head
Yours ears hearing those thoughts silently said
Fingers printing letters so poems be read
Reading new poems, walking woods others tread.

[Granny5]

Prince.....Are you

Thinking of your dream that
Caused you to wake in the night
And paint beautiful pictures with words
And share your hope with all
Who know you and wish you love

[PrinceMyshkin]

Prince.....Are you

Thinking of your dream that
Caused you to wake in the night
And paint beautiful pictures with words
And share your hope with all
Who know you and wish you love

How beautiful you are and your friendship for me is, too! I'm going to copy this out and forward it to the one my poem was for/about.

[PrinceMyshkin]

are you...

Are you sipping espresso at your café
wearing some slacks and a button up shirt?

"Slacks"! I ask you, "slacks - what am I, a girly-man?


Did you shuffle there with your shoulders bent
or did you dance your way there like Fred Estare?

More like the latter except the dance was a bit difficult in the front seat of my car...


Are the ladies on the streets or at the tables lovely today?
Or maybe you are at home in front of the computer
with your chest bare and your Bermuda shorts
bunched up around your legs? Are your socks clean?

My socks are assuredly clean since they have been resting in the dresser since, oh, probably some time in March.


When you are done with that smoke will you go to the
bathroom or to the refrigerator
to look inside and decide that there is nothing?
Then will you dress and head for your café
hoping that the women are lovely?

THe women are ALWAYS lovely, my dear!

[Granny5]

How beautiful you are and your friendship for me is, too! I'm going to copy this out and forward it to the one my poem was for/about.

Good luck Prince. I think you need someone to keep you in line!:lol: :lol: :lol:
Women are usually so good at that..must be one of the things we
are so good at because of our gender.
Truely, I have my fingers crossed for you.:)

[Pendragon]

Are you sitting in a comfortable chair
in front of the computer?
Do you snack on peanuts or divinity candy
while your fingers fly over the keyboard,
and your mind sifts through the world wide web?
Are your little dogs on your lap or at your feet?
While you surf, do you wonder of things
that were or could be, or are you focused on what is now?
When your words spill out and cover pages,
coloring the lives of others with your kindness,
do you know what you mean to them?
I wonder-
I wonder if you know, or if all you are aware of
is the pup in your lap and your rear end
going numb in that comfy chair?


Thank you kindly, Mother H. One dog. The other is a cat. I lose myself in the keyboard as if playing the paino...

Pen

[Pendragon]

For Mother H


When you made your decision to reinvent yourself
To life out there in that big old white farmhouse,
Did you lose yourself to find that you weren't missing after all?

Turning your back upon a world of neon signs,
To drift back into a life of the much more simple times—
And finding a voice in poetry—heeding the muse's call...

Like your mother whose voice began this song,
Two poet voices joined in harmonious music strong—
Voices transferred to written words on printed page…

I will give you both your laurels while you yet live,
I think it such a sorrow that so many wait their praise to give
When the voice that sang the magic tones is silent in a grave…

Pendragon
© 8/3/07

[motherhubbard]

Are you…

Pumping iron, or throwing freight,
showing the men how to work?
Or are you laughing at the boss
who is intimidated by your biceps,
vocabulary, and pretty face?
Are you deciding who to be today,
how broad your smile or how furrowed your brow,
or did you just step into it along with your pants?
When seeing the things that many overlook,
do you laugh at the foolishness or cry?
Or do you step back inside of yourself
and hide from the world that is beneath you?

[motherhubbard]

Are you spinning in the prairie
as you place data in your little book?
Will the coming storm catch you unaware?
Will the work you do today
help to change tomorrow’s world?
Are you growing up, away
from the one who would keep you?
While you labor and explore
you are sure to find more of yourself.
Take care of my girl- let her spin in the prairie.

[browneyedbailey]

Wow mom I-I-I don't know what to say

[kiz_paws]

The happiness and joy
of finding friends in a place
that smelled of old books and
cigars and stuffy attics
delights us all
and so the words
link into a sweet melody
coloured by rainbows
and carried by hearts


I came here to learn more about the play "Doll House" by Henrik Ebsen; and that was in March 2007.

I leave here smiling about the wonderful folk that inhabit this addiction of mine.

You all rock. :p

[motherhubbard]

Kizzo- You rock, too. I came to learn more about T.S. Elliot and Huxley and Igained so much more than I expected.

[PrinceMyshkin]

The happiness and joy
of finding friends in a place
that smelled of old books and
cigars and stuffy attics
delights us all
and so the words
link into a sweet melody
coloured by rainbows
and carried by hearts


I came here to learn more about the play "Doll House" by Henrik Ebsen; and that was in March 2007.

I leave here smiling about the wonderful folk that inhabit this addiction of mine.

You all rock. :p

Quite apat from the tender sentiments I love the way this rolls out as if it was a spontaneous, uneditted thought. Thanks (and thanks for some of your generous comments on some of my poems and on those of others).

[PrinceMyshkin]

Kizzo- You rock, too. I came to learn more about T.S. Elliot and Huxley and Igained so much more than I expected.

About T.S.Eliot (or "Ol' Possum" as some called him) if you would like to hear the most BORING possible reading of his glorious "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock," there's a recording of him reading it, sort of as if it were the London telephone directory or

next best thing! Call me and listen to me reading it in an impeccable imitation of him!

[firefangled]

Are you spinning in the prairie
as you place data in your little book?
Will the coming storm catch you unaware?
Will the work you do today
help to change tomorrow’s world?
Are you growing up, away
from the one who would keep you?
While you labor and explore
you are sure to find more of yourself.
Take care of my girl- let her spin in the prairie.


This made me cry. There is such tenderness in it.

I have a 16 yo daughter who is on the road away. It is a real bag of mixed emotions. I wish sometimes we lived where she had learned the ways of a prairie or mountains.

[Pendragon]

For All of You

Ut Camena

Are you sitting somewhere with a quill or pen
Dreaming about another poem you'll write,
Poising your fingers over the paper as you begin
When the moment and the inspiration are right?
Have you sat and stared into the icy glare
Of that one-eyed Zombie, the Computer Monitor;
Searching for just the right words, but they weren't there,
So you get hopped up on caffeine and reconnoiter?
Do you go through several rough drafts before you post,
Or do the words seem to flow direct from the heart to the screen?
Does your Muse sometimes go AWOL when you need her the most,
Do your poems contain your spirit and the things you believe?
And when the end of the day comes and you slink off to rest:
Is that when the light finally dawns and you have to start writing fast?

Pendragon
© 8/25/07

http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l108/AbsalomKane/Smilies/Images%20II/JohnnyPoet20outline.jpg

[kiz_paws]

Pen, that was beautiful. :thumbs_up

When I first came here, I thought that you were the heartbeat of Litnet. I still do. No one writes 'em like you. (especially in the thread of killing of Lit-Netters, lol!)

**salute to Pendragon**

And now I am writing some birthday haiku for my best friend, ta ta for now!

http://i151.photobucket.com/albums/s122/kiz_paws/black_eyed_susan_all.jpg
[Black-eyed Susan Season here]

[ampoule]

For All of You

Ut Camena

Are you sitting somewhere with a quill and pen
Dreaming about another poem you'll write,
Poising your fingers over the paper as you begin
When the moment and the inspiration are right?
Have you sat and stared into the icy glare
Of that one-eyed Zombie, the Computer Monitor;
Searching for just the right words, but they weren't there,
So you get hopped up on caffeine and reconnoiter?
Do you go through several rough drafts before you post,
Or do the words seem to flow direct from the heart to the screen?
Does your Muse sometimes go AWOL when you need her the most,
Do your poems contain your spirit and the things you believe?
And when the end of the day comes and you slink of to rest:
Is that when the light finally dawns and you have to start writing fast?

Pendragon
© 8/25/07

http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l108/AbsalomKane/Smilies/Images%20II/JohnnyPoet20outline.jpg


Except for the caffeine, yes!

Thank you Pen. Love it.

[AuntShecky]

I liked all or most of these descriptive passages and they were all valid and charming in their own sweet way. But in real life, there's nothing more intrusive or distracting when you arehome trying to write/read something, hanging on to a slippery thread of thought, and ---the phone rings! The caller asks "What are you doing?" but mainly she wants to tell you what SHE is doing. This was a topic in Miss Manners's etiquette column recently. Miss Manners, if I recall correctly, AGREED with yours truly.
Which of course, was a "first." But I kid, I kid.

[motherhubbard]

Thanks for thinking of us all pen