He looked at me....

Yes, this is a theme I know so well. I see children bewildered, in pain, their parents caught in a web. It is possible to blame this cause or that circumstance, but still it happens today and yesterday and, I suppose, tomorrow. What was it Auden wrote of suffering - ? While the horse innocently scratches its behind, tragedy's in the distance.

I think I need to thank my parents,edgar. I know that I cannot be the earth mother. Damn if I don't want to be. Well, I guess I just need to look after myself, then..

Goodnight

NICE POEM, BUT VERY TRUE IT PUT ME IN MIND OF THE FEARI DAD OF MY DAD WHEN I WAS YOUNGER.

Joe, Nice? It wasn't intended to be nice, but thank you. It was just an attempt to hurt for those who hurt. Not possible, is it. Well, we all fight our own demons.

I wonder where he is tonight,
This child unborn that knew no light.
He's somewhere on the shore of
Plight, the waves of nature's dolomite.

I never feared my father, Joe,
Just could not measure up, ya know?
And so I bask in his faint light,
Faintly tasting --eyes, no sight.

Someone who, beyond the sea,
Is thinking of creativity.
I know him well, and he knows me.
But not enough...
Second sight? Goodnight

The other night the restaurant was full and this lady(who never been there before) says " I want to tell you that you that you are very nice man". Damn! I was flabbergasted and asked the woman to tell it to my mom, 'cuz she's the one to "blame".
made me way happy though!

Ah, bigdice, well, you darlin' thing,
I can understand that ring,
I see that smug yet gentle
Smile, and that's the heir apparent, child.
Though young you be, You're wise and true,
And you have made me feel like you.

And lovely Urs,
How sweet how gentle,
How very, very continental.

Damn, Letty, y'all made me blush...
Tell you what, if you can't come to to Cocoa Beach, we'll come and visit you.... pm me, will ya, please

I'll copy and paste to urs, she'll see it on friday at work... she'll go all mushy!!!!

bd. I will tomorrow...
You're always welcome here.
For now, Goodnight

where the children gather
for their important games
amphitheater of history
i shout out their names
they reply with chocolate eyes
and love that sometimes blames
the world is ours they say
for some very important games

Letty, the pain you wrote is so universal, touching anyone who has a heart.

Lvoely comments and Edgar, as usual, beautiful.

Diane, the incident with that child really happened to me. These things spring up occasionally. Thanks, honey.

Edgar, "chocolate eyes". I loved that.

sorry Letty I meant the way it was written was nice. and your right we all have our own demons to fight.But we must keep going. good luck.

Jo, If I came off sounding curt, that wasn't my intention. Sorry, my friend. The topic was so close to me at the moment, that I reacted without thinking. Hey, buddy. I like your poetry, too.

Letty, I stole chocolate eyes from Phil Ochs:
"The chocolate in the children's eyes will never understand
When you're white boots marching in a yellow land"

edgar, my friend. It doesn't matter from whence you stole it. As I once told someone that I love: When you sent those words to me, they became your words.

Robert Frost eternally denied that his poems had a particular message. When he wrote, they became our words. He can no longer lay claim to them. Thus be the way of all poets..thank God.

White boots marching in a yellow land..a carousal of colors.

A flower nods its sleepy head,
A star creeps over the hill,
When all the birds have gone to sleep,
And all the nights are still.
Goodnight..goodnight..goodnight

Lovely those words..Can't find them, but they are etched in my heart forever.

Bob Dylan in his liner notes once said, "Yes I am a thief of thoughts," probably after someone accused him of using others' thoughts in his writing. Sure, we freely borrow; so do the big name poets. I just happened to be thinking of Phil Ochs last night, or this morning - whenever it was I wrote that quickie poem.