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Stroll Through MyselfOk, this challenge, I want a little poem about you, walking through yourself. |
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RE: Stroll Through MyselfGreat challenge JP, I will try to work on something new, but I am posting this old one which I believe applies in its own right to bump the thread and keep it going. If I complete a new one I will post it too. I wrote this one a ways back about a love at the time, who was far away at the time of the write. And I wrote this to her telling of my dream. In my dream since she was not near I could only be with her in my imagination, so this is sort of a stroll through my mind, or my consciousness with her. |
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RE: Stroll Through MyselfPacing the halls of self contemplation, |
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RE: Stroll Through MyselfI am a dry cell battery with energy, efficiency with high-mind operation speed but not the snort that makes nose bleed. and usually, I am laughing though maybe I should be mourning my youth engrossed in songs of me but here I am, in honesty a mental dot with hair in knots with reaching limbs and some forgots a small blue star in dark space land I look, like you, for purpose and another life-form, traveling where all of us are spiraling. |
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RE: Stroll Through Myself: IN AND OUT OF ME
My Mind, let us take a quiet walk! Where? Here! Where else ? Somewhere where we can talk? This inward hike of mine could be all fine, You must lead while I am led to define. What a feeling –yet moody to be free, Walking myself inside of me! Inside! Inside this large mass of protoplasm Wandering in a dark and deep chasm. Laugh! Eh-eh-eh-sh! Am I mad or sad? No-no! Excitedly, so bubbly glad ! Like turning out a new unworn plaid coat, To look at the pattern of fashioned cloth. From outside inside how so untidy It’s like unfinished a sad comedy. A tragedy? Yes-yes! Tragi-comedy! Yes-yes! Yes, tragi-comedy ! Chequered! Horrendous sights I curiously find Where raw fresh beef looks like the flesh of swine; A massive engine shunting time suspense, Where mystic ingenuity was spent. I wandered in wonder along a lane . Amidst a grove of wavy, ghostly cane. I then entered a clump of thick brush wood, There were flowers in plenty as they should. Inside of me complete is a complex maze, To walk inside of me a dreamy craze. And those millions of minute men armed To defend me from attacks they are formed. That heavy mass of red is my liver. What an horrible lump is my ticker! Bump-bump--ah-ah! Bunping against a box, It’s the life rhyme to time! Tick-tock! Tick-Tock! How now is this grey convoluted jell, Will not any innermost secrets tell? Claims some knowledge the one receptacle, With shreds of wisdom makes a spectacle.. Why, that obnoxious sack—a garbage bag Inside of me! Ah me! That smelly bog! It seems always too hungry a furnace, Food to devour I need to address.. Why is the water of life so, dark red, Is it from some dark cavern in torrent fed? What proffers that puffy pale wheezing mass, It seems to weary of its heaving task, To be blowing out like a big balloon, It’s a horrible pink spongy buffoon! I see rods and bars of white matter, Held together by straps like grey leather. Some move and hold in a curious cage. So designed and formed by a crafty sage. And others hold so firm and outwardly Well moulded mass so soft yet so firmly. And what are those blades like my steely spade, Are they to bear burdens and loads so made? And those are two golf balls in a reticule, We name them testicles not to ridicule That they test and tickle so well to please, But moreso I find very alluring To father child with woman adoring.. I walked all the lanes in search of my soul. Alas! I wander’d in vain to reach the goal; Let me walk again this my outward road, Outside of me to lay my lighter load. Outside of me, clearer light I see still, Hope , humour, wisdom my spirit to fill. Last edited by cousinsoren 06-02-2010 at 02:55:34 PM |
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RE: Stroll Through Myself So I dialed the phone of magic |
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RE: RE: Stroll Through MyselfQuote:
Originally Posted by Balladeer So I dialed the phone of magic (How it got there I don't know) And called the lad that I had been Those many years ago. "Hello", I said, as he picked up. "You won't believe it's true But I'm calling from your future And who's calling you is...you!" "Hey, who the hell is this??"he said. "You dial your number wrong? Or maybe this is just a joke.. Ok, I'll play along." "You always were a smartass, boy", I told him as I smiled. You had that way about you ever Since you were a child." "I'm gonna give you some advice And then it's up to you. How you wind up when you reach me Depends on what you do." "I know you like to spend a lot And when you're broke, it sucks. It might not be a bad idea To save a couple bucks." "Ten bucks a week is not too hard. You spend that much on beer. You'll be surprised at how much you Will have when you get here." "Be sure to go to college, boy. I know you don't like to study But you gotta have diplomas If you want to be somebody." "You always were a handsome lad No problem with the chicks. Whenever you walked in a room You always had your pick..." But there is more to women than Nice lips or shapely thigh. Look for their inner beauty And the twinkle in their eye." "And when you find the one for you And raise a family Don't ever turn your back on your Responsibliity." "You'll find out when you reach my age", I spoke into the phone, "That there is nothing worse in life Than living it alone." "Well, that's all entertaining, man Whoever you may be But you can save that sad advice For anyone but me!" "Save money? I don't make that much And what I make, I spend. I'd rather use it while I'm young Than be rich at the end." "There are no rich men in the grave. I'll leave no song unsung. I'd rather sample all of life While I'm still strong and young." "And college? No, that's not for me. I'm pretty smart, you know? I'll find some way to use my wit And make a pile of dough." "I won't be sitting, waiting for Some social security. I'm gonna be a big success 'Cause I believe in me!" " I'm looking for that perfect girl Who has a golden heart But long, smooth legs and perky breasts Are where I like to start!" "Gather rosebuds...sow wild oats. That's What they say to do. I plan to gather and to sow A lot before I'm through!!" " Hey, I enjoyed this, mystery man, Whoever the heck you are But I gotta go. The gang is Waiting for me at the bar." "Take care, old man" were his last words. I heard the line go dead And sat there in my empty house, With memories in my head. The SS check would come tomorrow. I would be well-fed. I got up from my easy chair And hobbled off to bed. I'd tried to tell him - or tell me Based on the life I had But couldn't make him change his ways And, to tell the truth, I'm glad. @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@ In Jamaica. when you are firing and crackling with humour, we say ,"Yuh wickid!:" Translaltion" "You're wicked!" meaning "you are tremendously good at what yuo do.........l |
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RE: RE: Stroll Through MyselfQuote:
Originally Posted by Balladeer So I dialed the phone of magic (How it got there I don't know) And called the lad that I had been Those many years ago. "Hello", I said, as he picked up. "You won't believe it's true But I'm calling from your future And who's calling you is...you!" "Hey, who the hell is this??"he said. "You dial your number wrong? Or maybe this is just a joke.. Ok, I'll play along." "You always were a smartass, boy", I told him as I smiled. You had that way about you ever Since you were a child." "I'm gonna give you some advice And then it's up to you. How you wind up when you reach me Depends on what you do." "I know you like to spend a lot And when you're broke, it sucks. It might not be a bad idea To save a couple bucks." "Ten bucks a week is not too hard. You spend that much on beer. You'll be surprised at how much you Will have when you get here." "Be sure to go to college, boy. I know you don't like to study But you gotta have diplomas If you want to be somebody." "You always were a handsome lad No problem with the chicks. Whenever you walked in a room You always had your pick..." But there is more to women than Nice lips or shapely thigh. Look for their inner beauty And the twinkle in their eye." "And when you find the one for you And raise a family Don't ever turn your back on your Responsibliity." "You'll find out when you reach my age", I spoke into the phone, "That there is nothing worse in life Than living it alone." "Well, that's all entertaining, man Whoever you may be But you can save that sad advice For anyone but me!" "Save money? I don't make that much And what I make, I spend. I'd rather use it while I'm young Than be rich at the end." "There are no rich men in the grave. I'll leave no song unsung. I'd rather sample all of life While I'm still strong and young." "And college? No, that's not for me. I'm pretty smart, you know? I'll find some way to use my wit And make a pile of dough." "I won't be sitting, waiting for Some social security. I'm gonna be a big success 'Cause I believe in me!" " I'm looking for that perfect girl Who has a golden heart But long, smooth legs and perky breasts Are where I like to start!" "Gather rosebuds...sow wild oats. That's What they say to do. I plan to gather and to sow A lot before I'm through!!" " Hey, I enjoyed this, mystery man, Whoever the heck you are But I gotta go. The gang is Waiting for me at the bar." "Take care, old man" were his last words. I heard the line go dead And sat there in my empty house, With memories in my head. The SS check would come tomorrow. I would be well-fed. I got up from my easy chair And hobbled off to bed. I'd tried to tell him - or tell me Based on the life I had But couldn't make him change his ways And, to tell the truth, I'm glad. @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@ Mr, Balladeer, Sir, Listen to me! In Jamaica, when you are firing and crackling with humour, we say ,"Yuh wickid!:" Translation" "You're wicked!" meaning "you are tremendously good at what you do."......... Last edited by cousinsoren 06-02-2010 at 08:06:01 PM |
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RE: Stroll Through MyselfThank you, cousinoren. Wickid works for me! |
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RE: Stroll Through MyselfAs I travel the landscape of my heart, |
Poetry is not the expression of personality but an escape from personality.
T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) American-English poet and playwright.