Today's poet

[Hes]

My goodness, its 8.35pm and nobody has posted on the poetry thread today. Looks like it will be down to me to get it started (before I disappear off to cook my tea).

Don't Let that Horse

Don't let that horse
eat that violin
cried Chagall's mother
But he
kept right on
painting
And became famous

And kept on painting
The Horse With the Violin in Mouth
And when he finally finished it
he jumped up upon the horse
and rode away
waving the violin
And then with a low bow gave it
to the first naked nude he ran across

And there were no strings
attached

Laurence Ferlinghetti

[freckle]

My goodness, its 8.35pm and nobody has posted on the poetry thread today. Looks like it will be down to me to get it started (before I disappear off to cook my tea).

Don't Let that Horse

Don't let that horse
eat that violin
cried Chagall's mother
But he
kept right on
painting
And became famous

And kept on painting
The Horse With the Violin in Mouth
And when he finally finished it
he jumped up upon the horse
and rode away
waving the violin
And then with a low bow gave it
to the first naked nude he ran across

And there were no strings
attached

Laurence Ferlinghetti

This is funny Hes! thank you!

[freckle]

Not sure how much I will be on tonight as I have work to prepare for tomorrow but thought I would offer this wistful piece from Hardy...have a nice night all if I am not back....

We sat at the window
Thomas Hardy


We sat at the window looking out,
And the rain came down like silken strings
That Swithin's day. Each gutter and spout
Babbled unchecked in the busy way
Of witless things:
Nothing to read, nothing to see
Seemed in that room for her and me
On Swithin's day.

We were irked by the scene, by our own selves; yes,
For I did not know, nor did she infer
How much there was to read and guess
By her in me, and to see and crown
By me in her.
Wasted were two souls in their prime,
And great was the waste, that July time
When the rain came down.

[Alf]

The Parakeets

They talk all day
and when it starts to get dark
they lower their voices
to converse with their own shadows
and with the silence.

They are like everybody
—the parakeets—
all day chatter,
and at night bad dreams.

With their gold rings
on their clever faces,
brilliant feathers
and the heart restless
with speech...

They are like everybody,
—the parakeets—
the ones that talk best
have separate cages.

Alberto Blanco

[Stef F]

Sad heart beating time
Precious days and moments pass
Stuck here in limbo

[freckle]

Sad heart beating time
Precious days and moments pass
Stuck here in limbo

Aw Stef, limbo isn't a great place to be (and I should know right now believe me), I hope things move sooner rather than later...

Alf I liked your post, were you being ironic by any chance?

[Stef F]

D is for daring to sneak a kiss
E is for every moment I miss
R is the reason for being I'm sure
B is the beating heart I endure
Y is for years; a future it seems

T is for tent; he'll know what I mean
U is for understanding the person unseen
P is a pie filled with hopes and dreams

[Alf]

Alf I liked your post, were you being ironic by any chance?

No freckle, I don't have that much imagination

[freckle]

D is for daring to sneak a kiss
E is for every moment I miss
R is the reason for being I'm sure
B is the beating heart I endure
Y is for years; a future it seems

T is for tent; he'll know what I mean
U is for understanding the person unseen
P is a pie filled with hopes and dreams

How utterly lovely..............you just made my night, sitting her doing boring old work and suddenly cheered by some good old fashioned romance!

[Stef F]

Aw Stef, limbo isn't a great place to be (and I should know right now believe me), I hope things move sooner rather than later...

Thanks Freckle.

Yes limbo is a bit grim, we have something in common there!

Poor/non-existent communications are testing my nerves and it would also seem I've fallen for a bout of the post holiday blues. The Highlander this weekend should be a good distraction.