^^^ Really like this one, Pen. :)
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^^^ Really like this one, Pen. :)
Do you know the Kenneth Koch Variations on another famous Williams poem?
http://www.eliteskills.com/analysis_...h_analysis.php
Florence has gone
blond
she's gone
Your phone rings,
And the beep echoes,
But you don't have ears,
To hear it,
You are deaf perhaps,
Or like you eyes,
Your ears are shut too...
Man it's hot in here!
Where's the movie section?
Let me out of here!
Five fingers clasp a glass,
cold, wet, strong smell,
somewhere in the distance a train whistle blows
where I'm going to, no one knows
A crumbling ligament
stirs even under
the softest touch.
Two minutes earlier than this
I wrote you on a post-it,
And now you're gone.
Dear,
did the wind whisk
you up
into the stars?
Apple pie cooling on the sill.
Sweet smells escape into the air,
a hint of cinimin?
Behind, a mother gently rocks her loving child,
her hair in a braid, her body in a blue dress.
Outside there is only me.
-Valentine's Day, 2003
Colors this day,
Edge of a rainbow,
Genus of passion,
Flowers of exotica,
Fingers of dawn,
Hidden in sunlight,
In the symbol that joins us,
Dances in crystal,
Shyly in diamonds,
Falling in starlight,
Hearts between us,
Pulse of forever…
First Sight
When I first saw you
Come in that door
First day of school
Ninth Grade World Geography
Those soft green eyes.
That soft dark hair.,
I told myself
That’s my girl
What I didn’t know
Was you had felt the same
That gawky cowboy in
The back row seat
Through the years
We had other dates
We always turn to each other
For advice when we had need
You know my heart
Almost exploded inside
When you told me “Yes”
That day at the top of the stairs…
Dale Harris
© 8/17/07
Breaking News!
It's been 30 years, but --
The King's not dead,
Not in Hell nor Heaven.
'Cause I just spotted Elvis
In the Seven- Eleven.
You laugh,
And I'll keep staring,
And when your eyes would stop watering,
I'll tell you,my friend,
Your joke was not funny!
(How stupid can I get;))
Another tiny one, not a particularly funny one, at least not
intentionally. But here goes:
In Transit
We don’t come sliding on a rainbow bridge;
no wisps of clouds puff out of our heels;
no stardust sticks to our original skin;
haphazardly we are dropped down,
without strings waving up to billowing silk,
without steely stone anchoring our feet,
yet here we are
detached, dispatched, and drifting.
Aunt Shecky
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