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Post by laughter on Feb 21, 2015 11:41:47 GMT -5
Fonzy and Potsie on my lunch box yes I exist. Get that thumb away from me! It smells funny! Where the hell's it been??
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Post by laughter on Feb 27, 2015 6:34:44 GMT -5
what it is my life, like any life is kind of mysterious there are things I know but many more I don't I am alone much of the time left to my thoughts and reveries my memories and wishes my hopes and dreams though I don't focus too much on them my life is a massive flow I watch it go by almost like a bystander on the other hand I feel and love deeply I hurt and become overjoyed I give love whenever I can I am lonely at times and gratified at others my sense of gratitude has grown greatly in the words of a saying that I have come to hate make it two ~ its all good and it is what it is . . . charlie giardino 2.26.15 Chazz, my favorite cliche is that cliches are cliches for a reason.
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Post by charliegee on Feb 27, 2015 23:36:43 GMT -5
remnants of you be my succor in May no clouds on the horizon clear as a bird's call in early morning stillness be my warmth in June where the sun settles on shoulders where day lingers long into the night be my swelter in July afternoon sweat begging a glass of cold water the solace of a cool room be my August temper hiding from the humidity the humility of life show a card of endings be my September song I dream of you going though you are still there for me to hold be the door to my October where the omens are clear as the rains blow hard against the coming night may the winter months console me if there be such a thing as I turn my collar up as the remnants of you fade into the smoke of memory charlie giardino 5/19/14
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Post by laughter on Feb 28, 2015 9:10:55 GMT -5
ooooh, wow man.
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Post by charliegee on Feb 28, 2015 17:55:57 GMT -5
a perfect morning
a shower, a cup of coffee a kiss on the back of your neck a soft nibble on your ears then back to bed to cuddle to bless the morning and hold you your back to me until we fall into a half-sleep and into love once more
CG 2/28/15
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Post by charliegee on Mar 1, 2015 3:56:12 GMT -5
no matter what
whatever happened to the dreamers? when did the world become flat again? when did love take a fall and scrape her knees? so that she crawls, bloodied and alone
dreaming of better days when skies were blue and possibilities were endless, limitless when was the color drained from life leaving more than fifty shades of why?
we live in a dreadful world our personal problems are dwarfed by the daily headlines, who'd envision the state of the world today?
who could've forseen the absolute darkness that parades as faith that stains the name of god?
rivers of blood flow in pools of hate whatever happened to the dreamers? if ever they were needed it is now to love no matter what .. ..
no matter what .. ..
charlie giardino 3/1/15
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Post by silver on Mar 3, 2015 9:52:19 GMT -5
I hope you're doing well, cg.
William Blake
"To See a World..." (Fragments from "Auguries of Innocence")
To see a World in a Grain of Sand And a Heaven in a Wild Flower, Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand And Eternity in an hour.
A Robin Redbreast in a Cage Puts all Heaven in a Rage. A dove house fill’d with doves and pigeons Shudders Hell thro’ all its regions. A Dog starv’d at his Master’s Gate Predicts the ruin of the State. A Horse misus’d upon the Road Calls to Heaven for Human blood. Each outcry of the hunted Hare A fiber from the Brain does tear.
He who shall train the Horse to War Shall never pass the Polar Bar. The Beggar’s Dog and Widow’s Cat, Feed them and thou wilt grow fat. The Gnat that sings his Summer song Poison gets from Slander’s tongue. The poison of the Snake and Newt Is the sweat of Envy’s Foot.
A truth that’s told with bad intent Beats all the Lies you can invent. It is right it should be so; Man was made for Joy and Woe; And when this we rightly know Thro’ the World we safely go.
Every Night and every Morn Some to Misery are Born. Every Morn and every Night Some are Born to sweet delight. Some are Born to sweet delight, Some are Born to Endless Night.
~o~
I'm not keen on bittersweet chocolate...poetry is yet another matter.
I hope you all enjoy it.
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Post by zin on Mar 3, 2015 16:11:50 GMT -5
(I enjoyed the W. Blake poem, silver)
Sensation
On the blue summer evenings, I shall go down the paths, Getting pricked by the corn, crushing the short grass: In a dream I shall feel its coolness on my feet. I shall let the wind bathe my bare head.
I shall not speak, I shall think about nothing: But endless love will mount in my soul; And I shall travel far, very far, like a gipsy, Through the countryside - as happy as if I were with a woman.
Arthur Rimbaud (translation by Oliver Bernard)
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Post by laughter on Mar 3, 2015 19:49:57 GMT -5
the myriad of details that one can find if they start counting ... how many things can you name?, right where you are, in this moment? in standing still the perimeters all fade in the silence there are no names
but don't plug your ears, as you might miss the call don't cover your eyes or your shooting star will cross the sky unseen take off your gloves and caress the world silence is not quiet, stillness is a blur and there is no way not to feel, just the poor imitation of numbness
which way does attention point? with eyes closed, there is an endlessly shimmering horizon, where attention meets interest with eyes open, how could you possibly mistake yourself? standing there, with no filter, there can be no mistake
doubt and indecision are just faint echos of that distant error there is no way to fail yourself, as you have nothing to lose there is no way to betray anyone, as the absence of love can only ever be chimera there is no way to lose yourself, as all roads lead you home
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Post by charliegee on Mar 3, 2015 21:31:54 GMT -5
thanks Silver .. hanging in .. hope you're doing well, angel ...
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Post by laughter on Mar 23, 2015 23:10:49 GMT -5
hey, what is that over there? sorry didn't mean to stare! its just that it popped up so sudden ... and then the words got so befuddled! it points a finger and then it waggles in details it tends to get entangled and the more it moves and shrugs and struggles the deeper it gets into the muddle! it puffs and struts and seeks validation it's at the core of every nation every war and all the greed all start with this thing as their seed so simple yet and so persistent but life it can be lived without it it don't mean there won't be fanfare just no heavy burned hot air in lightness dancing it does fade it marched away in the parade and left you floating light and free to witness that not you nor me
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Post by silver on Mar 28, 2015 20:35:33 GMT -5
for glimmer
treated with kindness poems woven effortlessly more than I can bear
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Post by charliegee on Mar 29, 2015 16:16:04 GMT -5
back from Colorado with a new heart...
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Post by charliegee on Mar 29, 2015 16:16:59 GMT -5
here and there
you were there I was here until I went there and we were we
now I'm home and you're still there but you're missing something 'cause I have a piece of your heart
charlie giardino 3/29/15
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Post by glimmer on Mar 30, 2015 3:39:38 GMT -5
title: 'rilke as muse ' Written whilst jumping into the elegies .. as described by me before. prologue what is there to fear but fear this that draws the heart to shutter itself to flutter to glimpse a quick-hold 1-1 stronger than thou is one you will find in the finding turn now in quickness beauty is melting; wilting; shriveling; burning out; fading; all to dust externally the picture ages in the gallery preservation efforts cannot hold back fate turning to each other here now a respite from what we know oh aching heart this is only one end of a solitary thought
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