BetterMost, Wyoming & Brokeback Mountain Forum
Our BetterMost Community => Creative Writer's Corner => Topic started by: Shakesthecoffecan on September 28, 2007, 05:01:05 pm
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I dreamed I could fly,
Falling asleap thinking of you,
My mind turned to the hills,
And the pastures just outside your door.
And I was gliding along,
In the sweet twilight.
But I was gliding alone.
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Hey Truman,
Lovely write.
Good to see ya around these parts bud. :)
~M
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I dreamed I could fly,
Falling asleap thinking of you,
My mind turned to the hills,
And the pastures just outside your door.
And I was gliding along,
In the sweet twilight.
But I was gliding alone.
That was so beautiful and bittersweet. Thanks for sharing.
Marie
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I am a poor boy,
Having paid the cover charge,
I have enough in my pocket for
Three beers.
It won't be enough I know.
To let my guard down,
To unclip my tongue and speak
To someone.
I will have to streach them out,
As long as I can,
In hopes someone will speak
To me.
Perhaps he will offer to buy me one.
A fella can dream, can't he?
-
In another hour,
You will be suspended above the world.
Another will be waiting for you there,
To carry you off,
To see bats, eat Mexican and dance,
Dance the night away.
I will feed your dog,
Who will not come out
From under the porch.
She, too, has only a need,
And then she is off
Dance the night away.
But that is another hour,
You buy me a biscuit,
You tell me you'll call
When you get there.
Go, I tell you at the curb
Dance the night away.
-
Matters not how early I rise,
I will always leave the house running.
Running late.
My shoes pair'd up, but I reach past them
For my boots.
Stomped full on they carried me
Out of a sunny day in California,
Cotton Eyes Joe ringing in my head.
Carried me down the streets and dancefloors
Of San Francisco.
The heals push me that little distance
And I am Six Feet tall, and thiner.
These boots wil carry me into my day,
Thru the clouds and the loneliness,
And remind me of better days.
-
Come friend, as I am sleepy,
And I can see you are tired,
Lets us curl up here together a while
And Nap, as I can always sleep better,
Curled around someone,
Perhaps you can too.
If we put our heads side by each,
If we touch them together,
Maybe we will have the same dream,
Maybe we will not be apart at all,
And a little more time will be ours,
Where there is never enough.
-
I went to Florence once,
David was everywhere,
In all his naked and marbled glory
The vendors in the markets
Sold postcards of his penis.
And that night,
I dreamed of a Cyclopse.
"Oh" I thought when I woke,
"Now I understand".
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I do not know if I have slept or not.
The room is starting to fill with light
In an hour or so he will rise, and,
Start his hunt.
Another thanksgiving,
The children and the grandchildren
The meal I will work on for three hours
And that Damned Electric Knife.
Their faces about the table
Smiling, Indifferent,
My fork pushing food while he
Grates my nerves one more time
Every year I tell myself
I will make it go away
Every year I scrape the plates
And remember.
This is my life, my outcome
With man who said he would
Love my girls.
Ennis, I am so sorry.
-
I am a poor boy,
Having paid the cover charge,
I have enough in my pocket for
Three beers.
It won't be enough I know.
To let my guard down,
To unclip my tongue and speak
To someone.
I will have to streach them out,
As long as I can,
In hopes someone will speak
To me.
Perhaps he will offer to buy me one.
A fella can dream, can't he?
:(
this one makes me sad. I am so shy in person....maybe I should take up drinking... :-\
-
:(
this one makes me sad. I am so shy in person....maybe I should take up drinking... :-\
Nah, save your money! ;) This one is pretty autobiographical. That was me when I used to go out to bars to try and meet someone.
-
Open the windows,
Let the house breath.
Let out the bad humors,
Let in the smell of sweet grass.
Let the breeze stir the dust,
So the cat will have a new toy.
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Open the windows,
Let the house breath.
Let out the bad humors,
Let in the smell of sweet grass.
Let the breeze stir the dust,
So the cat will have a new toy.
Spare and quite evocative. Very nice Truman.
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An Intro for Ones Journal:
It is good you have come,
It was long my hope some one would,
Though it has been many years,
It is my hope that any memory you have,
Will be some kind of fondness.
And the there is the possibility, real,
You have no memory of me,
Maybe I was already gone when you got here.
I think of that, when they take my picture,
It is you I am smiling it. ;D
However our lives overlap or not,
I welcome you, your are the next,
And perhaps not the only one.
This is my story, warts and all.
It is now a part of yours.
O0 ;)
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There was always someone with a car.
There was always pocket change,
There were places within reach,
That were not right here.
There were laughs that could be counted on,
There were smiles you could expect,
There was an expectation that one day,
But that day never came.
-
...
If we put our heads side by each,
If we touch them together,
Maybe we will have the same dream,
Maybe we will not be apart at all,
And a little more time will be ours,
Where there is never enough.
So glad to have found this thread today, Truman. Beautiful poems. Thank you so much for sharing them.
-
Thank you!
-----------------------
4SH
Roll up my sleeves now and reach under the cabinet,
Find just the right old flask,
I will distill the feeling of a John Denver song,
Bottle and send it to you.
Man I never met,
The son who forgave.
In my life I have come close to you often,
But until now, the lock never opened.
That bird, where did it go?
The one that had my words,
They were mine, ment for my page.
Until I forced my attention on it.
Make his wheels stay firmly on the road
Make his sleep uninterupted,
Make his time bountiful,
And his burden a shared one.
Fill his heart with joy,
As only the spirit can, when so moved.
Fill his song with life,
And his mind with peace.
And in the darkest time of the night
When the mind screams wake,
Let his heart say:
Rest.
-
Thank you!
-----------------------
4SH
Roll up my sleeves now and reach under the cabinet,
Find just the right old flask,
I will distill the feeling of a John Denver song,
Bottle and send it to you.
Man I never met,
The son who forgave.
In my life I have come close to you often,
But until now, the lock never opened.
That bird, where did it go?
The one that had my words,
They were mine, ment for my page.
Until I forced my attention on it.
Make his wheels stay firmly on the road
Make his sleep uninterupted,
Make his time bountiful,
And his burden a shared one.
Fill his heart with joy,
As only the spirit can, when so moved.
Fill his song with life,
And his mind with peace.
And in the darkest time of the night
When the mind screams wake,
Let his heart say:
Rest.
I like this one
-
4SH
Roll up my sleeves now and reach under the cabinet,
Find just the right old flask,
I will distill the feeling of a John Denver song,
Bottle and send it to you.
Man I never met,
The son who forgave.
In my life I have come close to you often,
But until now, the lock never opened.
That bird, where did it go?
The one that had my words,
They were mine, ment for my page.
Until I forced my attention on it.
Make his wheels stay firmly on the road
Make his sleep uninterupted,
Make his time bountiful,
And his burden a shared one.
Fill his heart with joy,
As only the spirit can, when so moved.
Fill his song with life,
And his mind with peace.
And in the darkest time of the night
When the mind screams wake,
Let his heart say:
Rest.
4TA
I’ll reach across
The wooden table
For just the right old flask
And drink as the tune
Worms its way out of
The bottle and into my soul
That man you have met,
That son that did forgive.
How close you have come
And stayed is for us alone
As one key is alone meant
For that lock.
Caged I am, but not forever.
I will return your words soon
Not yours or mine, but ours,
As we both draw on them.
Your gentle touch on the wheel kept me driving safely
Sleep will return as peace does
Time is bountiful for it’s our time
Burdens lighter for your soul in mine
Joy will follow sleep and peace
For they all know the spirit
Of grace.
My songs are fuller now for you
And my mind freer to call for peace
So the dark isn’t quite any longer
My mind only humming a sweet tune
Its words reverberating:
Rest.
-
You Bet! ;)
-
I was 15 whe you were born,
still riding a school bus.
The day before your birth was the much
anticipated day I could get a learners permit.
I had a lot to learn.
Mainly that I always would
Have a lot to learn.
There I was,
old enough to be your father,
Sitting in the dark,
Staring at you larger than life.
Janice Ian singing in the background.
You were killing me softly, with your song,
Telling my whole life,
With your few words.
The most you'd spoke in a year.
I sit here now, feeling no older than I did,
stepping off that bus at my driveway.
Still going on, safe from the bullet once again.
Kicking myself because I knew things were not right
For with you, like what could I do?
I am caught in that place, between what I know,
And what I try to believe,
That you had a purpose in this world, that came with a price,
And if that price was worth it.
I will carry on my friend,
I will make sure, it was not in vain.
Blessed are those who dance with fire,
They shall light the way for the rest of us.
-
When the night comes
And the sky grows ashen dark,
Reach around and hug my neck,
Wisper my name and smile.
I will feel it. ;)
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When the night comes
And he sky grows ashen dark,
Reach around and hug my neck,
Wisper my name and smile.
I will feel it. ;)
:) :( :)
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Valentines Day, 2008
Yes I am a plump onion,
Tears and all,
Roll thru the day of scepticism,
Bounce along with the bumps
And the ruts in the road.
Unseen, the world I keep below the surface,
A life I judge you would not approve of,
If I cared enough about you to tell.
Below that the sacred dance of lovers,
The tortured coat hanger dance.
Ever now and again bendingback
To the original shape.
And on my face
A smile I wear, for no one here.
I wear it for a guy out there in the world,
Who gave it to me.
The guy who likes me.
He who makes my steps leave the earth,
And the knot in my chest,
Act like a heart.
;)
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That's a nice poem Truman. I've been looking on the internet today for love poems to post. As I said in my PM to you, I'm not quite the poet. So far, I haven't found one that catches my mood which would be "bittersweet" right now... :-\
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Feel not the gloom,
Your pain and trials are over.
Fear not the turned backs
Of your friends,
You were important to us.
We shall make you a God. ;)
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I call you just once,
And here you bound out of the woods,
Your lean young body stretched out in full gallop,
Fully off the ground you cover like a bird.
Up to me you dash and consider me with wide eyed balderdash,
And take off, flying, bidding me to chase you.
The steps formerly rubble of other peoples lives,
I use them to carry me and the towels to the lines.
Wet but wrung out, unfurl them in entirety and pin them.
Unfold every lap over, it will be easier now.
The patterns created by the pulling apart will reduce,
To stiff and thirsty faux sandpaper,
Will scratch the dead skin from my back in a short wile.
In dreamtime I wait, and you do not disappoint,
Carried in by beloved arms "Looks what I found on the porch"
You have come, to offer your good bye and tell me you are okay now.
Healed from the ravages of time, and the sourness of life.
You lick my face and dance about.
You suffuse me, I was right.
Accept Loss as a Universal Force.
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That was so beautiful I had to read it over and over! The subject of your poem is a shape-shifting beloved thing that I hope will visit me in my dreams.
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In a stillness that knows no hour I awake from a dream of you.
Reach up with my free hand and undo the latch on the window,
Heal of said hand pushes the sash, I do not open my eyes, there is no moon.
Air, fresh and clean spill over my exposed head and fill my lungs,
Song of the Whipporwill lull me back into a better place, if I hurry,
You might still be there.
-
In that place
Proulx called not sleep, but something else,
I see you standing there,
Pearly whites in full grin,
Smiling eyes.
As happy to see me
As I am you.
-
The midnight prayer of the hamhanded lover
Please, for this one,
Cradled in my arms,
Grant him peace.
Grant him a sunny day and friends who love him,
Grant him a long and healthy life.
Smooth over the bumps in his path,
Even if those bumps be me.
Light the way for him.
His heart be a place of joy,
Bright shining as the moon on the water.
Grant him anything, my grasp cannot provide.
I will pay the tab, with my own short comings.
I will smile as I remember the way he felt.
With my arms now wrapped around my empty heart.
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and he thinks my writing is good.
-
The morning is waiting.
What is it I need, what magic,
To pull me forward into the cold world,
To deal with one more set
Of other peoples dramas.....
You old boots,
Sitting there cold, by the front door,
Any magic left in you?
Will you make my soles vibrate with the
Gentle sliding of the San Andreas,
Will you carry me back
To an Indian Summer afternoon,
Beer in Hand,
Head full of silliness and the flying nun?
No, say the boots,
No more than you just did.
I can only push you an inch higher,
So you can see the crap,
A split second earlier,
And duck. :-*