Spontaneous Poems

A few days back you wrote this Cav...
I just wanted to tell you... brilliant!----------------



We just got an invite to a cousins wedding, and man- do I FEEL for those kids....

Heh heh, in the middle of it now....next three nights....

In a land far away,
lives my amor,
love knows no distance,
lust does

So, in one word - no

Thanks Letty !! And men like him are dime a dozen !! And even they were not, I would not give up an opportunity to have lunch with you for a casual fling......

Doesn't that make you feel wonderful ???

[quote="jacki
Oldandknew, I sincerely hope you know that I am aware that you are a distinguished gentleman of gracious manner and perfect social correctness. A man of charm, wit, intelligence and handsome bearing.

It is when you write... you do not plot it or varnish it, it is just deeply understood by those who have 'been there, done that'.
Even I understand WYSIWYG.
Perhaps I see more than some.
Thank you for reading and feeling my intense efforts.

Jackie you flatter me & make me blush. I do like to help people to smile, laugh & perhaps think about things. It's always good to help people in other ways as well, without pressure. A bit of advice or information.
Kindness is free, bullets cost money

Wanna dance babe ?

Sassy chick with cigarette
snap my Zippo, light her up
standing close
my fingers burnt
foxy lady
my lips are scorched
music playing
loud enough
to wake the dead
dancin on a hot tin roof
my shoes are melting
bodies touching
pressing gently
rubbing softly
sparks are crackling
flame is rising
sweat wont douse it
reaching meltdown
I'm falling fast
She's aloof and miles away
I'm a pool of molten DNA

He was my friend
A man one could love
One who would lend
His hand and his glove
A man of great cheer
A giver, a dear
And he lived down the way
His home was neat
They took his car away
And dealt defeat
Then they sent him to the home
He was not allowed to roam
Ask the great inquisitor
He had not one visitor
But they took his goods and cash
Everything else went to the trash

oldandnew
oldandnew, I LOVE your Want to Dance piece. Clever! Inspired!

BumbleBeeBoogie

BBB, as we say in London, "Cheers matey, thanks a bunch"

Ode To A Shirt


Oh shirt, oh shirt
oh dickey dirt
I feel your time has come
I've had you now since God knows when
but just like me you're past your best.
Your cuffs & collar are now frayed
Your elbow has a hole.
Just like me your color's faded
To a lighter shade of gray
I hear the dumpster from without
Calling you to landfill rest
But I'll wear you one more day
Just for old times sake.
Though wait.
Hang fast.
There is another way
Join the ranks of household dusters
Cleaning windows, tables & chairs
A squirt of scented polish
Lavender or Pot Pourie
Your final days in pastures new
With many new found friends

Hi! Ho!
It's off to work
I go!

The Wedding Dinner (this morning's thoughts)

How will the hors d'oeuvres be,
hopefully not a sea
of brown drab "thank you for frying,
just for me."
Sincerely, the hotel is fine,
once, in said establishment,
I even worked the line.
I always thought it best,
just to be a guest,
but given a role,
it is hard to acquiesce,
given my profession,
all chefs need lessons,
and the groom is so close to me,
my brother, bless he, and his lovely bride.
Let's hope the kitchen team
is on our side.
The chef and I disagree
on minor issues of filigree,
I'm sure it will be lovely.
I just hope I don't forget my song,
or choke while singing before the throng,
thank god I don't have to wear a thong...
My tux makes me look like a waiter,
That's it, I'll check in later.

My stars are blue
When I think of you
Whom I barely knew
I know how you went down
Dead by one fatal round
I'd heard your voice
Where lilacs grew
You made your fatal choice
To end life you barely knew

I think I will go to the lake
to bake a cake
and take a flake to sake
or am I fake?
my friend Jake
will never make
that mistake, or forsake
an obtuse rake

OH My God, that image above me in the air
Is it a bird?
Is it a plane?
No it's the newly resurrected Micheal Jackson, and I don't believe it...

Believe it, brother. I am real and I am a damn fine poet. Would you agree?

Now let's see you dance.

Well gustav, you are no Gil Scott-Heron

With severed rose
And cans of prose
I greet the new day
Anxious for sighting
My muse who's hiding
Avoiding the fray

The flag above me,
ignored me,
while sheltering others,
from the falling rain,

A mother has disowned
her son,
who
disowned her first.

Today, I need
permission
to visit
my own country.