Hotel Anywhere
Unseen conspirators by day
incorporate by candle:
resonance will soon invade
the easy lace.
It will not focus
too obliquely under eyelock,
nor stop too force
the unseeming question
with a prowling stare.
Instead it will content itself
with some astute inaction,
a deft reconnaissance
of symmetry and safety,
assessing the supple distances
and risk of knee
or chin. Napkins and coasters
will advance, and smartly,
unlit cigarettes
playing prelude to assault.
Alias will again haunt
the house of synesthesia.
Connection of lyrics and perfume
will be remembered.
Horoscopes will be utilized,
proper persons, places and things
partially named.
Off stained cushions
and discreet naugahyde
conviction will be born.
Along crowded piano bars
trivial ideas will be taken in
as deserving orphans.
Brave indirection will contrive
by the small wattages
of the garish lounge.
Innuendo will be busy.
Velvet beggars will huckster
the thin soled pun.
Double entendre will teach
the careless and the faithful.
By exquisite accident
resistance will be unbuttoned.
Overreaction will not alter
contingent plans.
Hatreds will go incognito.
In the midst of plenty
generosity will become poor.
Disdain will smile.
Random guilt will comingle
with the tight promise
of its earringed sleep.
Logistics will be forgotten.
Cowardice will soon invent
a different prayer.
Further debriefings will occur
by sinks, at midnight,
and vague appointments
again confirmed by doors ajar.
Emotion will excrete
in the straw hat of intuition.
Prerogatives will atrophy.
Dreams will unsynchronize,
as they descend unused exits
to pause on the quiet
landings of recarpeted stairs.
Acceptance will be chauffered.
Hope will define fragile.
Bystanders will be struck by cars.
Hotel lobbies will reconfirm
many of yesterday’s reservations.
Propinquity will lose her luggage.
Frayed Velcro day ends
will mesh and gradual hooks
of quasi friendship attempt to cling.
And rowdy gatherings
will continue to assemble,
elsewhere, to festival the promise
of the unloved night
and to await the second advent
of the helpless moon.
Boston, 1980
Another recent lyric:
What Have I Become?
I saw the rain on England's fells
Smelt the cows and heard their bells
But it didn't move me
I saw a battle on a green
Kept the score and moved the screen
It still didn't move me
What have I become?
Am I just another person I don't really know?
I hear the baby took some steps
Took a spill and all the rest
But I don't remember
All the people gathered round
Home and hearth without a sound
I wish I didn't remember
What have I become?
Am I just another person I don't really know?
I climbed the old Dutch elms
Soaked my conkers, painted shells
Can't remember, days and days
Lost my way, yes I lost my way
Headless chickens on the run
They can't see their day is done
They just keep on moving
Heads and hearts are torn in twain
Sew them back and start again
We got to keep on moving
What have I become?
Am I just another person I don't really know?
The Queen Arrives
A poem posted with permission from the author, texasnewt:
---------------------------------------The Queen Arrives----------------------------------
Impasse, or an army slain,
my pawns shall take no prisoners nor flee from pain.
Gallant, skilled knights mount-up, Rex Nemesis is nigh,
and steeds do charge to the front,
before the enemy hears the fierce bishops' battle cry.
Opening campaign was a land grab;
center squares are all.
Whilst midgame pieces frantically grapple,
to find a winning combination or fall.
Castles herald the endgame;
anon the denouement is at hand.
Their liege has ordered them to battle,
now that few remain and stand.
Advance now the rooks,
adorned with the terrible Aegis of old,
Titans laying claim to the open files,
with the war hammers they hold.
But now, o'now, a silence as deafening as raging thunder,
stills the troubled board.
For a majestic, ruthless Imperatrix has moved
to slay King and opposing horde!
Originally posted by RabidRookThe plan was bewtix’d and adjourned, before (b4) or thee one(d1)?
The Queen Arrives
A poem posted with permission from the author, texasnewt:
---------------------------------------The Queen Arrives----------------------------------
Impasse, or an army slain,
my pawns shall take no prisoners nor flee from pain.
Gallant, skilled knights mount-up, Rex Nemesis is nigh,
and steeds do charge to the front,
bef ...[text shortened]... bled board.
For a majestic, ruthless Imperatrix has moved
to slay King and opposing horde!
Yet without wanting I bent thee’fore (d4), taking my gambit.
I went in my knighted thoughts, to hasten to;
And rounded within a second, to knight but not on e2.
I was underway, and my plan was unfolded before me,
Such that all followed pursuit, that the plan became choosing for me.
I cursed the middle, indexed my fiddle, and played in augmented fourth;
And there she came, in her dress and her crown, just slowly extending forth.
The castle arrived, and I danced and jived, exchanging a little jump forward
And the blacked sky, appearing quite dry, became much more unlord.
I gaited my line, seeing a cross and a shrine, and his pawn just simply vanished,
As I straddled a fence, across his defence, and his corner was no longer banished.
‘Twas not long much after, that I threw in my bish
Against what he thought was a might great wish;
And I finished my plan, against an unseemingly distasteful rush,
‘Cause no matter his woe, and all he could try, I painted mate with my brush!
-mel
Hints given for the unknowing... 😉
- Joined
- 10 Dec 11
- Moves
- 143494
The Rook
/not the piece but the bird/
A pair of Rook lost gain their own young
The youngster is walking on the ground
Incapable to fly, and the parents are in panic
I can hear their frantic sound
Whilst they try to scare off possible enemies.
I lost a Rook in a chess game.
Originally posted by Grampy BobbyLovely
[b]The Blue Ones
Your jean play on the banisters.
of my sleep.
I hear footsteps sometimes.
Your last blue pair of sneakers
walk around
in the parks of my dreams.
I see new grass stains on the toes.
Your white socks
are inside out, I am almost sure.
I wonder if they need pulling
up, again,
right now wherever you are
and if you are running easy
and if those
yellow laces are still untied.
1995[/b]
Originally posted by FMFDude, why you have become John Booth of course. 😛
Another recent lyric:
[b]What Have I Become?
I saw the rain on England's fells
Smelt the cows and heard their bells
But it didn't move me
I saw a battle on a green
Kept the score and moved the screen
It still didn't move me
What have I become?
Am I just another person I don't really know?
I hear the baby took some steps
Took a spill and keep on moving
What have I become?
Am I just another person I don't really know?[/b]
Right Words
Behold, right words
fitly spoken…
yada, yada, yada.
Nobody’s talking
about ornate apples
or golden bowls.
No, my kinsman,
wordy is too common.
Brevity is okay,
concision’s better.
Strip away the fat.
Expose the bone.
Forget multi-syllable
verbs and nouns.
Please learn to respect
your mother tongue,
by valuing each
consonant and vowel.
Pay rapt attention
to the freight
of moving meanings
into tight sentences
and stand alone words.
Think first, then
toggle your vocabulary
to fit the need.
Stay on the high road.
Avoid getting stuck
in some awful ditch
or swampy bog.
Keep your head
on straight, and your
feet on solid ground.
Speak softly...
no need to shout
or carry big stick.
Language always knows
more than we do.
Listening matters.
Dream in color
and surround sound.
Write with a fever.
Revise stone cold.
Marry right words.
Leave the others alone.
Summing up: wordy
is too common.
Brevity is okay,
concision’s better.
Stay relaxed, easy
in the harness.
Keep things honest.
Worms, measured
responses and social noise
are for the birds.
Light the path
out from the woods
by day. Pitch a tent
on moonlit nights.
Live life fully,
to the hilt, then die
and be done with it.
May patience, wattage,
gratitude without regret
outlast your days.
May, 2012
.........................
Sometimes we are Kings,
Standing quietly while others go forward to protect us.
Sometimes we are Knights,
Hopping about in a dance of death.
Sometimes we are Bishops,
Staring down sinners from a faraway angle.
Sometimes we are Rooks,
Waiting in corners like reptiles.
Sometimes we are Queens,
Slaying the lesser beings who threaten our heart.
Sometimes we are Pawns,
Poking at enemies and dying for friends.
Heaven is filled with Pawns.
- John Osmar
Taught Me
She did menus the way devout parishioners do hymnals.
Would roll the sleeve of a straw, nonchalantly, then
place it by the flowers as if setting aside a toy.
Required two napkins, one to adorn the splendid
symmetry of her lap and the other, never unfolded,
to safeguard the silverware lest it chance to come
in contact with questionable linen or a bare table.
Knew how to giggle as if accompanied by music
and how to cry, with or without the benefit of tears.
She was a Texan with blond angel hair, pulchritude
trailing perfume all the way. Often hid the diamond
glint of her righteous indignation. Displayed her nails.
Saw things as they were, including her shortcomings.
An aura of hope and mark of humility became her,
never quite realizing she was better than she knew.
Magnificently childlike, yet savvy. Intense without guile.
Cherished dolls and life. believed in Christ. Taught me
I was less than I imagined in rthe sight of God.
Summer, 2004 (From 'Whispering to An Angel'😉
.
On God’s Green Links
Lovely hardwood floors in my brand new major city apartment
appear to be level in each of the well appointed and commodious
rooms, at least to the naked eye. Some glorious days, in and out
of the kind old sun, all my footsteps seem to go straight downhill,
yet on others every blessed one becomes an upward challenge.
Wonder why? Wonder if Sisyphus hangs out here, working his
day job every other week when he’s on the lamb or out of town.
Whether here or not, I’ve learned to simply play it where it lies.
(Over coffee Wednesday morning. June 6, 2012)
.
Read this to the tune of 'You picked a fine time to leave me Lucille' not the chorus, the verses....
The day off work!
In a bar down in Queen Street, where all of the drunks meet;
On a cold and wet Thursday afternoon:
I was walking with my friend and inside we both went;
Because they were playing his tune:
As I ordered the beer, I could see very clear;
That this day would change his whole life:
All the bums were appearing and the crowd they were cheering;
And my mate said “oh look there’s my wife.”
She was drunk but still able, to dance on the table;
Whilst slinging her clothes in the air:
I was laughing that much; I had to grab my crutch;
As the pub folk were all stood on chairs:
I said “come on lets go” he said “I’m watching the show”;
As his wife danced and was smiling with glee:
Then she turned around and fell to the ground;
When she realized that she’d seen me:
Well the look on my mate’s face, was in total disgrace;
As his wife picked her clothes from the floor:
She said “let me explain, I’m just playing a game”;
He said “I don’t wanna see you anymore.”
So we finished our beers and the crowd full of cheers;
And my mate he was in total shock:
We got drunk around the town, like a couple of clowns;
And drank all night until 4 O’clock!
In the morning we woke and I stumbled and croaked;
As I heard my mate beginning to curse:
He was in bed with a woman; my mate was a rumen;
She was looking around for her purse:
Then as I rubbed my eyes, I soon realized;
When I saw the size of her frock:
That something wasn’t right and I got such a fright;
When I saw my mates bird had a cock!
Brian Clark;
Sunday 5th December 2010!
🙂
Rapping Great Weekend!
On Friday afternoon I bought my self a lovely shirt;
It cost a lot of money and it made my pocket hurt;
I’ll be wearing it this evening I can tell you that’s a cert;
I’ll be feeling very confident and ready for a flirt:
I’ve been in the pub, since nearly half past eight;
I’ve had ten pints of lager, with me very best mate;
Having loads of laughs and fun and feeling great;
Looking for a woman and to take her on a date:
I dance like no-one’s watching coz I just don’t care;
Surrounded by pretty women that are everywhere;
There’s a fine line with eye contact and having a stare;
But if the body language is right I’ll be over there:
It’s nearly 12 o’clock right now we’re gonna leave the pub;
We’re walking through the busy street and going to a club;
I wanna keep on drinking so I’ll be asking for a sub;
We’ll get slung out at 4 o’clock then go and get some grub:
I met a lovely girl tonight I wish that she was thinner;
I gave her all my witty charm and said I’d take her out to dinner;
But she doesn’t really know it yet that I am a real sinner;
She’ll spend all night at my place then in the morning I will bin her:
I woke in the morning, said I’d be seeing her again;
She thought that I was wonderful and said she liked my friend;
She was getting on my nerves by now and sent me round the bend;
But we’ll do it all again tonight, when will it ever end?
By Brian Clark;
21st August 2009!
The purge of saddened laid trough
Walked deep with Kelly’s long cough.
And splutter he’d live with oft’
E’er a day with swine and the waught.
For ‘twas with grace he turned to his dues;
A daily drudge to harbor life’s wanton mews.
His courage unseen and forbode to be,
As he quietly looked his sounder as key.
A swine destined for consumption unknown
Thereafter Kelly’s morn’s and chores simply thrown.
Yet the sounder had little to know before their turn
As Ole Kelly knew, and life decided to adjourn.
-m.
(Ten mins ago 😀)