Mr.Duck on 16/11/2009 at 17:31
With apologies to the cynics, I just felt like posting a small poem that popped in my head. Don't worry, it's not a new wave of "OMFG, DUCKY'S GOING TO SURROUND US WITH CRAPPY POETRY!!!". Just felt like sharing.
+Before The Morning+
Came the dew to my face
Sled across as if tears
To wake me up swift
Before the morning
Silence split in two
As the grass bent
Like the day's whisper
Calling me back
Eyes open curious
As sunlight warms my lips
And I open my mouth softly
Taste the day as it holds me
Hands close around cool dirt
I feel it slip 'tween my fingers
Like a dream my mind can't cage
I begin to move upwards
I look around the waking world
From heaven above to earth below
It holds me, tempts me, fills me true
And I am part of it once more.
-------------------------------------------
Ulukai on 16/11/2009 at 20:15
Don't ever stop being MrDuck, you crazy Mexican hombre :D
demagogue on 16/11/2009 at 21:12
Thank you Duckey.
Something very special happened to me just before this morning (about 5 am), and like the poem it made me feel warm and a part of the waking world once again. And right after that I read your nice poem. I don't know how my special thing will turn out; it's a possible new adventure yet unwritten; but it was an auspicious time for such thoughts.
Aerothorn on 16/11/2009 at 21:14
Quote Posted by demagogue
Something very special happened to me just before this morning (about 5 am).... it made me feel warm
giggle giggle snort snort
PeeperStorm on 16/11/2009 at 21:50
An obvious metaphor for rampaging cyborgs. I'm kind of curious as to the ultimate fate of of clown in the water tank though.
hopper on 16/11/2009 at 21:52
Quote Posted by MrDuck
Hands close around cool dirt
I feel it slip 'tween my fingers
Like a dream my mind can't cage
I begin to move upwards
"cool dirt", eh?
Kolya on 17/11/2009 at 02:20
So how's it going golf clubbers
I see you got your rubbers
Tiger Woods is my caddy
Your ladies call me sugar daddy
Do lookie lookie, watch it now
When I boogie woogie and I don't know how
I'm a-swinging my wang and I ejaculate
at 88 MPH on the interstate
I'm juggling three Droids,
I just need more than the rest
Hold on, incoming friendship request!
Hello officer, of course it's not safe,
I'm a beta tester for google wave
And you're blocking my wifi
but there's one thing more
These aren't the iphones you're looking for.
june gloom on 17/11/2009 at 02:27
Night has fallen as I walk across the dead city centre
A fountain shrouded in light, surrounded by nobody
Papers fluttering across the square like leaves
I see a salaryman with his briefcase in one hand, his jacket over his shoulder
Looking for his car
The jazz singer on the corner, tired from singing
“Lord, it’s another sad day” all day long
As tears stream down his brown cheeks
Has packed up his things
I feel a chill in the air as I walk across the bridge
Beneath my feet thunders a single train
Its yellow-light windows reflecting the backs of tired waitresses’ heads
As it slides like a snake into the tunnel
I don’t smoke, but a cigarette dangles from my lip
Hanging on for dear life
The quiet ocean-noise of a passing car- is it the salaryman’s?
Seems to be the only sound for a moment
I pass a diner, something Hopper would have come up with
And inside I see Chandler and Gibson
Discussing society
Gibson seems bent on inventing another genre on a white napkin with a pen
It seems like the sort of scene
A session musician with a saxophone might have something to say about
I think about going inside but I decide I’d rather go home
I look up at some point, into softly falling snow
And realize I don’t know where I am
A narrow city street, a warren of dwellings behind the quiet facades
Signs of a city that wasn’t planned
But darker than night
The only people on the street are the girls
But one of them is sweet, like she’s only there for the bus
And to my surprise I feel a kiss on my cheek as I pass
I’m lost in moments as I feel the scar of a cold kiss
I flick my unlit cigarette into a gutter
Pull my coat around me
I think of going back to ask her name but she’s already gone
I wonder where Gibson will sleep tonight.
In a Victorian bed
Or in a tube, one of hundreds, rentable for $2 a night?
PigLick on 17/11/2009 at 03:11
My E string sucks, the intonations out
on top of that I'm developing gout
my back is sore and my knees wont bend
times like this that I need a friend
TTK12G3 on 17/11/2009 at 04:15
There is not a moment I let pass,
That fails to enlighten me.
Every day something changes,
Yet I do not know where it will lead.
A new word, a new tone,
a strange sight, an odd time.
Something that is foreign to me
Calls with glee.
I welcome you strange one,
You who I have never held dear.
What will be your gift,
and what shall be mine?
Oh how it pains me still
to think that the path is dark.
What, oh what do you demand?
How can one see what is not there?
