So while I was pondering what exercise I could do to work off the crazy amount of food I have eaten today (I blame the weather. It suddenly turned cold like autumn, after unseasonably warm weather, like autumn. But now it’s cold, like autumn), I found this.
I baked a cake
was not for me
it was for you
it will not do
the cake was fine
and rose in synch
with proper force
of nature’s course
filled in, and
it’s coming around again.
the mirror’s afloat again.
while prancing on my unicorn
one day, I felt so free
I pondered life
and all its ways
and how I never particularly liked horses, (especially after that one time at Ariane’s but anyway), ironically.
friendship is simple. it’s also complex, but let’s ignore that.
it can be what we want it to be.
well, sometimes. there is such a thing as unrealistic expectations but that’s not what this post is about. this post is simple. this post will simply concentrate on the lovely simplicity of simple friendship.
take the friendship cats offer just as one example:
(NB May be some coarse language…and I don’t mean when they quote Australians…)
I have yet to understand how our accents can be so different.
I watched a whole documentary once. On the plane. To New Zealand.
It answered not my questions. It was an hour long exercise in finding different ways to say
we have no idea
why the New Zealand accent is as it is.
There is something exciting
About leaving everything behind
There is something deep and pulling
Leaving everything behind
Something about having everything
You think you’ll ever need
Sitting in the seat next to you
This remarkable writer (and heck of a nice guy) spent this last week checking out my blog. And now he’s gone to the trouble of writing this…I’m honoured more than I can say. How generous you are to your WP friends, Stephen!
Please take some time to read his work, if you don’t know him already. You will not be disappointed. He is an amazing talent.
As this week draws to a close, I am happy to report that my week spent with saynotoclowns was valuable beyond words. Digging around a fellow poet’s back catalog not only feels respectful, it is also a chance to connect to the larger human beings that we all are. In this week’s adventures I discovered a great writer, a deeply spiritual soul, and a musical kindred spirit whose taste in music already has me thinking about which musician I want to tackle after I finish my National series; Nick Cave comes to mind. Fortunately, I have a few more weeks to think about it, but I am pretty sure the Bad Seed is planted (so sorry, couldn’t resist).
My response poem to saynotoclowns tries to encapsulate the humor I found in her writing (…this woman’s first post was of a donkey for crying out loud!…) while also respecting her deep…
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This is a reworking of a poem I wrote a couple of months ago, after visiting an old friend in Arizona. These gorgeous trees surrounded our camp site. A night by a campfire, sharing sorrows and burdens with an old friend, is one of the best things in life imho. Thanks to Charles, the reluctant poet for inviting me to join ‘the back side of the night’ theme started by The sailor poet. I really appreciate their encouragement, as well as that by Davy at Davy D blog. Thanks Guys!
How those maudlin woods enticed us
adorned so enchantingly with unprecipitation
and the black of trees’ core,
begging interpretation from the sympatheticly dressed.
my relative mind
in my relative heart
ponders relative truth
inside relative art
and to help me along
but I am actually really good at it. And I have been told I should do what I am good at.
Thanks to one of Rob‘s posts, I remembered this, and thought, naturally, you might enjoy having your emotional bank account boosted with this compilation of one of my favourite tv characters. (The relevant part to his post starts at 1:57 and I am pretty darn sure that would be me at 3:08…)
You are more than welcome. Even if you have seen it a million times already, I know you want to see it again. And when I say ‘you’, I probably mean ‘I’, but humour me for a moment *giggle*
I miss you.
I thought of you today
when we were at the beach,
our holiday coming to an end,
my pensivity forming the only clouds in the sky.
The colours beneath horizon
thanks WordPress for these suggestions.
they make perfect sense to me.
on her owl backpack,
she does have blood in her wing
so she’ll be fine.
But there’s no milk