Lola at the Coffee House, Cafe 101

<nestling>

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.............

Good night, sweet dreams...

My love she speaks like silence,
Without ideals or violence,
She doesn't have to say she's faithful,
Yet she's true, like ice, like fire.
People carry roses,
Make promises by the hours,
My love she laughs like the flowers,
Valentines can't buy her.

In the dime stores and bus stations,
People talk of situations,
Read books, repeat quotations,
Draw conclusions on the wall.
Some speak of the future,
My love she speaks softly,
She knows there's no success like failure
And that failure's no success at all.

The cloak and dagger dangles,
Madams light the candles.
In ceremonies of the horsemen,
Even the pawn must hold a grudge.
Statues made of match sticks,
Crumble into one another,
My love winks, she does not bother,
She knows too much to argue or to judge.

The bridge at midnight trembles,
The country doctor rambles,
Bankers' nieces seek perfection,
Expecting all the gifts that wise men bring.
The wind howls like a hammer,
The night blows cold and rainy,
My love she's like some raven
At my window with a broken wing.

Thank you Dys for that lovely verse. Now, what happened to the mayo?

No, its God. He made ecstasy ... wine and and buttercream too. (You just hung around with the wrong, dour bunch.)

Rum is OK, but the innie is the real attraction here.

Nice verse Dys. Whose is it? I do like poetry, but know little of the modern stuff.

Here's one for us all as we drink...

Wine comes in at the mouth
And love comes in at the eye;
That's all we shall know for truth
Before we grow old and die.
I lift the glass to my mouth,
I look at you, and I sigh

and for the lady Diane;

She's got everything she needs,
She's an artist, she don't look back.
She's got everything she needs,
She's an artist, she don't look back.
She can take the dark out of the nighttime
And paint the daytime black.
She never stumbles,
She's got no place to fall.
She never stumbles,
She's got no place to fall.
She's nobody's child,
The Law can't touch her at all.

{{{{{{{{{{ Dys}}}}}}}}}} followed by kisses.

You know how much I love Dylan (the old stuff).

as I said, george, you call it God, I call it ecstasy. To me it's a very pleasant sensation. That's all I know. And it's enough for me.

Now Pepsi and Mayo..........what's the matter with this crowd? Are we all tired and geriatric?

So we're drinking and we're dancing
And the band is really happening
And the Johnny Walker wisdom running high
And my very sweet companion
She's the Angel of Compassion
And she's rubbing half the world against her thigh
Every drinker every dancer
Lifts a happy face to thank her
And the fiddler fiddles something so sublime
All the women tear their blouses off
The men they dance on the polka-dots
And it's partner found and partner lost
And it's hell to pay when the fiddler stops
It's closing time

We're lonely, we're romantic
And the cider's laced with acid
And the Holy Spirit's crying, 'Where's the beef?'
And the moon is swimming naked
And the summer night is fragrant
With a mighty expectation of relief
So we struggle and we stagger
Down the snakes and up the ladder
To the tower where the blessed hours chime
And I swear it happened just like this
A sigh, a cry, a hungry kiss
The Gates of Love they budged an inch
I can't say much has happened since
But closing time

I loved you for your beauty
But that doesn't make a fool of me
You were in it for your beauty too
I loved you for your body
There's a voice that sounds like God to me
Declaring that your body's really you
I loved you when our love was blessed
And I love you now there's nothing left
But sorrow and a sense of overtime
And I miss you since the place got wrecked
By the winds of change and the weeds of sex
Looks like freedom but it feels like death
It something in betwen, I guess
It's closing time

We're drinking and we're dancing
But there's nothing really happening
The place is dead as Heaven on a Saturday night
And my very close companion
Gets me fumbling gets me laughing
She's a hundred but she's wearing
Something tight
I lift my glass to the awful truth
Which you can't reveal to the ears of youth
Except to say it isn't worth a dime
And the whole dam place goes crazy twice
And it's once for the Dvil and it's once for Christ
But the boss don't like these dizzy heights
We're busted in the blinding lights
Of closing time

I've always loved Thorougood's "When I Drink Alone, I Prefer to be by Myself." His voice fits the curmudgeonly lyrics perfectly.

Two for Dys:

Leonard Cohen

As the mist leaves no scar
On the dark green hill
So my body leaves no scar
On you and never will

Through windows in the dark
The children come, the children go
Like arrows with no target
LIke shackles made of snow

CHORUS
True love leaves no traces
If you and I are one

It's lost in our embraces
Like stars agains the sun

As a falling leaf may rest
A moment on the air
So your head upon my breast
So my hand upon your hair

And many nights endure
Without a moon or star
So will we endure
When one is gone and far

CHORUS
========================

Add this little poem:

I love you not only for what you are,
but for what I am when I am with you.

- Elizabeth Barrett Browning -

Personal confession here ... Damn, you folks are so much better at this sorta thing than I seem to be able to manage; I do enjoy this sorta stuff, but I always feel a little overmatched ... outta my depth, a tyke tryin' to play with the big kids.

Ain't gonna let that stop me though; I may be clumsy, but I'm pretty hard to intimidate

Unwarranted, but recognizable feelings. Everyone is swimming just a bit beyond his/her depth -- except Lola and perhaps Eva. They're both mermaids, and a bit dangertous. Just hook up to the quiet lyric themes that always dance in the back of your mind.



Spoken like a jarhead ! Good !!!

Goody, Timber's going to be around for the fun. Come on over here, Timber and sit with me on the sofa by the fireplace. It's overcast and cold outside today. So I'm wrapped in my blanket and I'm drinking my morning coffee.

Would you like some coffee with cognac? Wassau, would you ask that tiger lady, Miss Adventure to bring Timber what ever he wants? (She's been in training as a waitress here in the cafe, poor child she was hard up for work.) She's a little strange so she fits right in with the rest of us.

Now let's talk about your confession. It was very nice of you to be so honest. That's always a nice trait in a friend, unless they decide they want to be honest about their opinion of me......that doesn't always work out so well.

Now, we know you'll get the hang of it, Timber.........anyway you've already demonstrated that you can keep up, you do it all the time on the other threads. All it takes is a good sense of humor. (We don't always recite poetry all day long. But sometimes we get in the mood.)

Mostly we play.

george quotes classic poetry, something relatively new here and very welcome too.

Now guys, what shall we do today? How about if, after Wassau gets the covering over the pool we play mermaid and merman? Ok ok, that sounds too dangerous? Well then we can all sit on the deck, eat pizza and wiggle our toes in the heated pool water.

Better yet, I think I'll take my poetry books to the top of the tree house and keep the big blue, chronically smoking caterpillar company. Then when I feel like it, I'll slip down the slide into the pool. Betty and Bob (the cafe seal pups) need some company.

But be careful, if we're too naughty, RevCat and RevPat may show up. Then we'll have some fun throwing them into the pool.

Come on in, timber...the water's fine.

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As the A2K mermaids parade out to the pool....

I do like the center umbrella - ample, round, pleasing to the eye.

Great umbrella.
Gimme shelter.

Why thank you, George! :wink:

There we are.....I didn't know we'd had our picture taken.

Hi George........you're a sweetie.