Morning Song
At night, I always forget
Not to neglect or defer
Silence above me -Whispering
My wrists capalling - In the Tunnel of Love
Some may find my songs pain-in-the-asstic
And sing out to me
Get that shit eating grin
Off your clovey-chippey-cheeks
I think I will open my toes
And feel the watery flow
As tame mornings
Wake me to the sound of waves
Pounding against
The roots of shoreline roses
So joycholically delightful
The silence advances
The Moon begins to cool
Through lumpish bands of doubt
The new silence emerges
I quickly hide as you
Reach for my hand
Not sure if we should
Fly high above the planet
Unsure
Unsaved
Unctolicious



Salon.com
Comments
How does your garden grow?
With silver bells, and cockle shells,
And pretty maids all in a row.[1]
The oldest known version was first published
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
This made me cry as I have lived it.
This whole piece touched me.
HUGGGGGGGGG
As tame mornings/Wake me to the sound of waves/Pounding ~
The night and the quiet make me forget, too...feels great.
Thanks for the Oliver and thanks for yours, always ~
When delightful beautiful clever nice ladies tell me “I don’t know what the purpose of this exercise is, but I sure had a lot of fun doing it” and then augment it with playful upmaking-of-words ,
I am always well pleased.
The Moon begins to cool
Through lumpish bands of doubt
Made me drop my metaphorical butcher’s knife! I was paroxysmed with perfectly catharsizing laughter, of a Prometheanishly prototypical kind.
Last time that happened, I was dropped on my head as an infant and slid sixty feet along the ice safely into the arms of my rascally uncle, Uncle Lefty.
♥R
& yours was fun.
rated ♪♫•**•.¸♥¸.•*¨*•♪♪♫•**•.¸¸♥ D.
Your poetic talent knows no bounds. I love "Oliverized..." Rated!