Freckled yards
Freckled streets
Freckled roofs
Freckled steeps
Freckled sky
Freckled town
Freckled Autumn
All around
Children crackle leaves at play
the autumn mist is in the air
I haven't left my house today
I'm not going anywhere.
From my window I can observe
all people rushing by and such
my computer's on, to it I serve
the addiction of my crutch
Edgar
Edgar, I love all of your poems and linger over them for a while, savoring them after the print has returned to the ether. Your latest poem is elegant fine---BumbleBeeBoogie
Can a flower enter a garden,
Unbidden by the gardener's toil;
Conversely, is he just a warden,
To chain a flower to his soil?
Flower liberation:
I would give them motor bikes;
Flower determination;
Any lifestyle the blossom likes.
BBB
You make me feel proud.
Edgar
Edgar, you earned it, you deserve it. Enjoy!
BumbleBeeBoogie
Pixels form
As I type
To display
My thoughts
Becoming ripe
I love you people
Who want to be gentle:
Not that you're sheeple,
Or have problems mental;
You demonstrate
That there's another way.
Your minds create;
Each day's a hopeful day.
A token for the tollway
Is what I am this day,
Then a peg in the hallway,
To catch your coat, hurray!
I am morter on a brick;
Flour to make gravy thick;
I am a clip on a pen;
The moose head in the den.
Just a quicky... I heard this on the radio yesterday when they were talking about a sewage spill into a local river...
Worcester
waste-water.
As the sun rises
over the horizon
I wish that I could
see a bison
or perhaps
a heffalump
instead of cars
and ugly speed bumps
'Tis a wonder and a marvel to be associated with ye, cav, sealpoet, brand x, bbb, colorbook, gautam, letty, dianne, gelisgesti, rose; whoever I've missed. Beautiful.
Dear Geraldine,
Once called Jellybean,
In bygone playful banter;
Remember the garden in Rockport,
The house I built, to our discomfort,
Our game of taunt the taunter;
How you and Sam recieved the report
And moved away from our Rockport,
Gone to live in Rhode Island?
The seasons changed,
As we rearranged
Expectations and and perceptions.
We had both fun and agony after I wed,
And Opal, and I packed our belongings and sped
Into a life of personal deceptions,
Visiting you and Sam in our quest that only led
To an end both spiritually and physically dead.
But you and Sam thrived in Rhode Island.
I regret the time of personal pain,
That urged me to break the chain
And curtail our friendship.
My new life was constantly breaking down
And I felt I had all but lost my favorite clown,
Dear Sam, adjusting his lip;
I see that your life has improved and broken new ground,
As my own life has favorably turned around:
Forgive, as we are not meant to live as islands.
Nestled here among the pages
sentiment's gather spontaneity
I scroll, I read
I feel without touching
the words roll out of our heads
quickly
provoking thoughts
for others to see inside of us
The written word is most powerful
Among you poets and authors where flowerful
Thoughts and ideas play their part
Magic and imagination bounces off the cart
Love to read, write and part beyond the towerful
I blue moon in a reserve of flashes
Lone coyote I canyon in ashes
Await the plane in mirror that plashes
Gently against the sand
A herald woman of angel on clouds
Mambo she curve among stark gray crowds
Heart wings in solo flight on cool shrouds
Sharing me along the strand
Why has my toe gone to sleep
Down there, the fourth from the left?
Is it really, really tired
Or just bored
With my shoes?
Only the toes knows, patio.
PatioDog
PatioDog
This little piggy went to market
to buy some shoes in which to park it.
He found some with rhinestone laces
to look cool in fancy places.
But he found a old lady lived inside
With her brood -- all thirty-five
He bought her a pair of guaraches
(A summer home) and our hibachis.
(How ya doin', BBB?)
