Category: Uncategorized

.

you who are nobody’s darlin’
why don’t you be mine?
we who are nobodies
in everyone’s dream
here with Emily remembering
our kith and kin
of nobodies…

it was late in September
a few weeks to come
way back we witnessed
eastward rising orange dawns
now witnessing westward dawns
of rose and azul blue

any angel will do
you who with no expectations

shall we dance?

(words for a sixty-third birthday)

i picture myself at sixty-three
and you as you are now
walking atop the mountain
looking down at wing’ed lady

and, dear, i now observe
three hours into your
“bullshit” post
current comments: #76

the seventy-sixth
word-smithing, mine
in broken lines (i do
remember your dislike

for poetry
but i write because i can…

“ah, sweet Rose…did you know
we are the only western country
that does not provide free health
care for it’s citizens. Of course it is
paid for by our tax dollars. That is what
civilized countries do best – they take care of their own.”

now is the time to return to mi casa, to sleep
to dream,
to finish the unfinished
perhaps
perhaps to find
find a new horizon
horizon
that goes on and on…

{..}

the sweetest words
i’ve ever heard
when away so long
you missed most
my laugh
i did not hear you then
i do now
there is a knowing
we’ve been ’round before
like Harry Chapin
i don’t remember when
guessing you do
from the veil’s other side
(one of those exceptions you know
when the i is not before the e)
yes Jasmine is doing fine

meals at the Adobe Springs
you played classic guitar
and Bach…i was awed

our first meeting
i tapped you on the back you said,
“who are you”

that was my first laugh
i’d never seen you before either
my clue was your guitar

had it not been the Frenchman
googling my eye i might
have seen you who

who became a best friend
a wild zen flower

i will see you again perhaps
when we will write a play
opera? musical? old style?
or brand new?

perhaps is the best i can do
the far away and the
unknown, si, no se

i say goodnight
this middle of the night
to you.

{..}

how do we get her back?
after the dead baby said,
“It’s not all about you.”

off goes Atlas
down the drain

uncommits always have a
reason out of season…
they bray

who’s to say
this belongs to that
“Stat, stat!”

did you catch her walk off-stage?
then sit right there!
middle isle, seat #2

pausing she ponders
will he/she who sit
to her left and right be

carnate or incarnate
say “boo” if it’s you
old friend

don’t pinch me if i’m dreaming

happiness once found…
ya can’t get her back.

.

he said, “not a good time for humor”
she said, “what’s the matter?”
he said, nothing
she said, “I’ll tickle you till you scream “Aunt Jamima”
he said, “aintch moma””
she said, “no, but I’m old enough to be your grandmoma”

being Italian, he sent word down to that little town
to threaten the old hag if she didn’t “shut da f___ up”
the only Italian around, an ex-relative
whom she had heard once use “mafia” threat
(as if something every Italian male would do)

he said, “Don’t say another word to Ron,
cause if you do, if I don’t hurt you, he will hurt me.”
she shed tears
he said, “All you have to do is shut up.”
she said, “I’m crying for your lost soul.”

grandmama (to be perfectly clear,
a great grandmama) knew
a demon, once set lose
does not do “pin pricks”
and
being of the age
where death is the expected next
the mote would be expended
to a loved one
most likely a child
ergo she tied her tongue

even a clown
knows when to fold
when nothing’s to be learned
by Act III.

Craig Bratcher:

And men are different in intellectual terms,
for men are known for their strength of understanding
and their memory as compared to women.
Women are weaker than men in memory and
forget more than men do. This is well known,
for most of the reputable scholars in the world are men.
There are some women who are more intelligent and
have better memories than some men,
but this does not cancel out the general rule.
Most cases are as we have described above.
With regard to emotions, men speak of them when they get angry
or when they are happy,
but women are affected by the slightest emotional effects,
so their tears flow at the slightest emotional provocation.
Jihad is obligatory for men,
but jihad in the sense of fighting is not obligatory for women.
This is the mercy of Allaah towards them, and consideration for their nature.

Edy Benjamin:

…and then we evolved, from the fig leaf to thinking for ourselves.
Once upon a time “(it) is well known” the world was flat.
The world has just been too dang bloody under paternalism.
Give it up!!!

.

(for Beak Eyer)

i did it to amuse you
knowing i’d abused you

a smile, did you?
espying upon our table
the telescopic roach clip
with a roach!
a something we both
never do

and yes
the abuse was mutual
as was/is the respect

what’ll i never do without…
when we remember
when never or September
autumnal harvest

celebrating survival
(no not the TV show, haha)
step by step awareness
old and new

amazing grace how far
thru time and space
love lives

Don’t wait for me on the highways
Wait for me under the tree
Beneath the ocean
Above the sky

I’ll be there…
To sing a little song
for you…

flambadutery
how easil you steal!

is it theft
or flattery?

bets placed
racing camels
foaming furiously at the mouth
rider in fancy automobile
driving outside the rail
remote controlling the pain
that drives camels faster
hoofs pounding
desert sand
commentator saying
“They love their camels.”

“They, someday,”
the Demi said,
“will be the camel.”

edy benjamin
August 6, 2013 at 9:29 pm · Reply

might we not poem away
those dates placed on memory’s list:
love commercialized

if you would be a muse
would you be mine
a more than valentine
only soul i know
who pays a blind lady to house clean

bole weaver says
he found his home
not my guru muse
she’s more apt to say,
home is where ever i find myself

now i’ve done it
i’ve made two fives
now can i make a three?

or a true to you
two?

(this one have fun)