And the word is...

[Pendragon]

A little tounge-in-cheek Novelty...

Million Years From Now

Just thinking about my skull,
Been x-rayed and MRI scanned.
I’ve been knocked out cold,
By fists, car wrecks, and bicycle chains.
I think I have had about three concussions,
I used to break bricks with my forehead.
I have high cheekbones from the Cherokee,
And a brow ridge from who-knows-where.
There’s a place on my forehead where the bones grew funny;
You can sink your fingernails into the crack.
I’m wondering what kind of man science will call me,
When they dig me up and label my skull.
A million years from now…

Pendragon
© 9/3/07

[PrinceMyshkin]

A little tounge-in-cheek Novelty...

Million Years From Now

And a bloody funny one it is, too! Thanks!

[firefangled]

Funny poem, Pen. Your skull would, of course, be Homo Sapiens Pendragon.

[ampoule]

I know we shouldn't have to explain our poems but I thought some people may not know what I mean by VFW. Those are the initials for Veteran's of Foreign Wars and when I speak of 'at the VFW', I am referring to a building, a hall, where Veterans can gather together for private or public events.

Saturday Night At the VFW

I love jammin' with the old guys at the VFW on Saturday nights.
Did they sit in fox holes choosing the tunes they would play tonight?
Were they charging onto foreign beaches with harmonies going through their heads?
Was Hank Sr. calling the beat as they walked their close-order drills?
Did they sleep with their rifles pretending they were plucking the strings
of their guitars, banjos, mandolins, an occasional bass or hammered dulcimer?

I love jammin' with the old guys at the VFW on Saturday nights,
pickin' and grinnin', the old country songs, those Appalachian lullabies so sweet,
the twang and the yodel from their throats so free,
the clappin' and stompin' when the band plays "I Saw the Light", and
the tear wipin' on "Farther Along....we'll know all about it, farther along
we'll understand why...." Will we?

I love jammin' with the old guys at the VFW on Saturday nights
who would gladly put on their uniforms if they could button them,
whose uniforms now are faded blue jeans and plaid shirts that bulge at the belly,
and caps emblazoned with the initials of their service, when they were young
and strong and brave and scared to death and wishin' like heck
that they were jammin' with the old guys at the VFW on Saturday nights.

[ampoule]

Granny's poem this morning, Just A Thought, made me wonder if we would like to write about....

JEALOUSY

[firefangled]

I know we shouldn't have to explain our poems but I thought some people may not know what I mean by VFW. Those are the initials for Veteran's of Foreign Wars and when I speak of 'at the VFW', I am referring to a building, a hall, where Veterans can gather together for private or public events.

Saturday Night At the VFW

I love jammin' with the old guys at the VFW on Saturday nights.
Did they sit in fox holes choosing the tunes they would play tonight?
Were they charging onto foreign beaches with harmonies going through their heads?
Was Hank Sr. calling the beat as they walked their close-order drills?
Did they sleep with their rifles pretending they were plucking the strings
of their guitars, banjos, mandolins, an occasional bass or hammered dulcimer?

I love jammin' with the old guys at the VFW on Saturday nights,
pickin' and grinnin', the old country songs, those Appalachian lullabies so sweet,
the twang and the yodel from their throats so free,
the clappin' and stompin' when the band plays "I Saw the Light", and
the tear wipin' on "Farther Along....we'll know all about it, farther along
we'll understand why...." Will we?

I love jammin' with the old guys at the VFW on Saturday nights
who would gladly put on their uniforms if they could button them,
whose uniforms now are faded blue jeans and plaid shirts that bulge at the belly,
and caps emblazoned with the initials of their service, when they were young
and strong and brave and scared to death and wishin' like heck
that they were jammin' with the old guys at the VFW on Saturday nights.

Amp, this is joyous, marvelous, and such an indirect but poignant salute. I love the rhythm of it.

My stepfather was a Colonel in the Air Force and a POW in WW II. I have been at some of the "jammins" he goes to at the VFW and they get so much out of the company.

Kudos again.

[Poppy]

I know we shouldn't have to explain our poems but I thought some people may not know what I mean by VFW. Those are the initials for Veteran's of Foreign Wars and when I speak of 'at the VFW', I am referring to a building, a hall, where Veterans can gather together for private or public events.

Saturday Night At the VFW

I love jammin' with the old guys at the VFW on Saturday nights.
Did they sit in fox holes choosing the tunes they would play tonight?
Were they charging onto foreign beaches with harmonies going through their heads?
Was Hank Sr. calling the beat as they walked their close-order drills?
Did they sleep with their rifles pretending they were plucking the strings
of their guitars, banjos, mandolins, an occasional bass or hammered dulcimer?

I love jammin' with the old guys at the VFW on Saturday nights,
pickin' and grinnin', the old country songs, those Appalachian lullabies so sweet,
the twang and the yodel from their throats so free,
the clappin' and stompin' when the band plays "I Saw the Light", and
the tear wipin' on "Farther Along....we'll know all about it, farther along
we'll understand why...." Will we?

I love jammin' with the old guys at the VFW on Saturday nights
who would gladly put on their uniforms if they could button them,
whose uniforms now are faded blue jeans and plaid shirts that bulge at the belly,
and caps emblazoned with the initials of their service, when they were young
and strong and brave and scared to death and wishin' like heck
that they were jammin' with the old guys at the VFW on Saturday nights.

Well Amp you knew I would like this one. Its my kind of stuff.

[ampoule]

I love the rhythm of it.

Thank you very much fire. I may read this one today. I'm going to visit a poetry group and thought I would take a couple of things...just in case. A long time ago, Prince thought Solstice would make a good reading.

Thank you too Poppy. It did occur to me that you might like the subject matter.


Okay everyone...the word is JEALOUSY. Do you think women feel this more than men?

[PrinceMyshkin]

The jealous lover seethes
along the sidelines. Even
in his lover’s arms
he wonders, Did she love him
perhaps more yesterday?

How jealous he is
of himself!

[ampoule]

The jealous lover seethes
along the sidelines. Even
in his lover’s arms
he wonders, Did she love him
perhaps more yesterday?

How jealous he is
of himself!

Wow! Yes, Prince, yes!

[Pendragon]

A somewhat different touch...

Green Eyes

Why does he have to stop by the Bakery,
Every day that he knows she’ll be there?
I trust my lady with all of my heart—
But his eyes are so brilliant and green…

“Do you know the price of this cake, Martha?”
Hey, pal, it’s marked on the box!
But she is always a lady and always polite—
But his eyes are so brilliant and green…

“Do you have doughnuts fresh this morning, Martha?”
Good Lord! Dude, the display case is five inches to the left!
But she keeps her decorum and shows him the pastries—
But his eyes are so brilliant and green…

Today it is cookies, tomorrow perhaps an apple pie,
Always something he could find on his own.
She has to wait on him and flash her bright smile—
But his eyes are so brilliant and green…

I take several deep breaths and I focus my chi,
He’s bothering her over nonsense this morning again.
Yet I shake his hand as the eighty-year-old man smiles up at me—
With his eyes still unfaded and so brilliantly green…

Pendragon
© 9/8/07

[ampoule]

Oh is that neat Pen! I love that cute little twist. Very nice.

[ampoule]

Jealousy

The first time I heard someone say God may have created other worlds,
I was jealous thinking why would that be necessary,
Were we a mistake?
But God does not make mistakes, we do.

Still, I find myself glancing into space wondering if some other creation
is closer to God, more full of love,
more full of the peace that passes all understanding.

But I am not green or spiteful or full of rage,
No, I am watching for love wherever I see it,
I am speaking forgiveness where it is needed,
I am giving and asking for peace, helping God create that other world.

Will you join me?


amp, September Eighth, TwoThousandSeven

[Poppy]

I say I am happy they have time to
do things together. I say it’s great
they are able to get away.
I say it’s wonderful that everything
is organized and put in its place.
I say your lucky that this is the
last payment. I tell them what
a great feeling it must be to have
their health. I tell them how they
don’t look their age.
But!
What am I really saying?

[Demian]

Even love has a dark side
though we are wrapped within her light:
The fractious haze of uncertain ways
can burn bliss from desire when left in sight.