Poetry Pages

yeah, ditto that!! i've had many a night like that.

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BOUNCY BOUNCY! any of you newbies? any comments?

<a name="#forty four"> Bar Band </a> For all of you who wonder if I write anymore, yes. I don't like to post anything before it's ready. So here's an oldie. You can decide if it's a goodie. I know damn well it's timeless. The long hair, baggy silk shirts, and cookie-cutter Ibanez's of when I wrote i...

<a name="#forty three"> Can't Scream on Screaming Hill </a> It's late; it's early; it's 3:30. Too late to party, to early for sumrise. Meteor showers, alone empty hours; shouldn't be up here, it's really not wise. Drove up the hill, screaming hill they call it, at least that's what we use it for, to...

<img border="0" alt="[Bump]" title="" src="graemlins/bump.gif" /> wow, jenn (another wow!) that was kind of everything at once... rapid & slow, light and dark, in (society) and out (cast). you pulled it off wonderfully. it made me sad to read, that people feel that way (not like i don't at times). b...

</font><blockquote><font size="1" face="Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif">quote:</font><hr /><font size="2" face="Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif"> The bespectacled boy was not crying now. He was weeping painfully. His goateed friend could feel tears come to his eyes. The boy continued. “I’ve made a co...

<a name="#forty two"> Those Girls Who Write </a> Those girls who write are just so weird. They sit and scribble; they don't talk, flirt, or do normal "girl" things. It's really no wonder, in and of itself. Often they're not very pretty, or they're hefty heifers, they don't wear make-up. Hell, they'r...

<a name="#forty one"> Human Touch </a> Just a touch, a human touch is so simple, and loaded with complications. Like a flashback song the need arises out of familiarity and repression. So sing to me first since it's all you've got to give; all the old cadences of self-deception. May I have your perm...

<a name="#forty"> Time out of Mind </a> Will there ever be a time, time out of mind, when I don't think about looking at you just one more time? Will there ever be a time, time out of mind, when you don't show up in my sleeping psyche which waking thought responds to with a magnetism that it takes e...

yeah, i've had some words with this one myself. gordy, that was too, too good! edgar might have no clue what a pixelled door is, but i'll bet he's giving you a peace sign. <img border="0" title="" alt="[Cool]" src="cool.gif" />

<a name="#thirty nine"> The Couch </a> So very worried was the little boy about his impending Christmas joy that he is up way past his bedtime. He speaks at random, not touching the real subject, of cards, computer games, his brother whose hazing of him never ends. Maybe this year he'll hit the jack...

yeah, same here. I liked all the internal (and external) conversation.

<a name="#thirty eight"> Just a Child I Once Knew </a> When you were so sick I stood over your bed and cried and prayed as you slept even though I never admit to doing either of those things. Cleaned you, fed you, inserted tubes, and waited for your awakening each time they wheeled you off. The brig...

<a name="#thirty seven"> No, No, No, and No </a> I see you are courting him now, and why, if I might ask? Surely your life is full; with your man and your children, all the myriad things you do all day and write about. How could this futile and redundant debate possibly interest you? You talk of cha...

hey, michael. couldn't let this one get buried. [img]images/smiles/icon_biggrin.gif[/img] personally, i think a LOT has changed in ten thousand years. particularly the last thousand. or the last hundred. or twenty... it seems like we're all caught in a whirling vortex of changes and radicalness from...