My dream girl's not a doll, no Kewpie cutie,
Or an heiress, or an actress on the screen.
She's neither nun nor acrobat,
Nor wears fine feathers in her hat,
No frump for Trump Republican,
No beauty queen.
She's not a princess trapped inside an ivory palace
Awaiting rescue by a valiant knight like me.
She doesn't dazzle like aurora borealis,
Or sing arias from "Carmen" like Ms. Callas,
Or practice taekwondo,
Or even know tai chi.
But the girl I dream about has joy and laughter,
And her heart's as full of love as it can be.
When my spirit's low, she lifts it to the rafter,
And I know we'll have a happily ever after
Every time I dream of her
And she of me.
Categories:
callas, dream, humor, imagination, romance,
Form: Rhyme
Both as Crass and as Callas
As it is to admit openly out loud
I find myself recently trying to reconcile
Why it is I sorely miss much more
Not those amongst us currently here
living I beside
But those who have both sadly moved
and been passed on
I wonder if it is because the dead do
not so much annoy anymore
As apposed to those long already
dead residing besides once happy
joyous memories in ones head
We can talk to them about later on at
night before we go to bed
Because they wouldn't let us get a
word in edge way's or shut up and
stop endlessly going on about
themselves
And I am going on holiday with
said set of individual's tomorrow
As unfortunately they who I am
referring to are my nearest and
dearest family
Whom unlike friends I never got to choose
Categories:
callas, love hurts,
Form: Free verse
A radio aired an awful auld aria,
Astounding all my aged aural edifices
In eerie aura of araucaria trees
Aching angrily in a loud typhonic breeze.
My brain wanted to burrow to escape the pain
Of sounds as a warren of rabid jackrabbits
Digging to escape mangy slobbering coyotes
Howling hungrily in panting pursuit of prey.
Such a scratchy song, if played in the briny deep,
Would chase crazy-eyed kraken to the mountain tops.
Callas, Verdi and Puccini would flee their graves
For a screechy symphony of barbed wire sitars.
Praise be! The off button my shaking hands did find;
I woke up, pressing on my belly button hard.
Categories:
callas, angst, emotions, music, storm,
Form: Free verse
they say
that Maria
Callas lost her
voice but one day
while out walking
i heard tonal
leaves of a
tree sing
ing with
a trill from
the wind and
then keeping beat
of a woodpecker
kept her in
and on
time
as i
admired
the sound of
a one of a kind
voice knowing that
the tree leaves
would leave
or be taken
by the
next or
very next
breeze to
follow as
they dried so
the sound would
in time take time to
also change
to be arranged
with a score never
more to be the same
but life is about
not lasting but
living and i
heard in
her voice the
punctuation of
a poet showing
her vocal chords
and words
while acting
the true part of
what it means to
be a
Diva
Categories:
callas, muse,
Form: I do not know?
Oh my dear Mama
I am in love with her
I want to go to Port Rossa
To buy a wedding ring
Yes, yes, I want to go there
And if my love were in vain
I'd go to Ponte Vecchio
And fall to my destiny
I struggle with this tormenting
Oh God, I'd like to die
mama have pity on me
mama have pity on me
To be sung to "O mio babbino caro" by Puccini
You can find it on YouTube I suggest Maria Callas.
Categories:
callas, character,
Form: Ballad
~Enchantment~
(Free Verse)
Colored glasses spinning light,
From tulips blooming very bright.
Bedding glorious beauty past,
As you smiled at me so glad
Blessed Grace by the Most High,
Zephyr flowers opened wide,
Callas lilies graciously stood,
As Shakespeare rhymed so well
Skilled artists painting clouds
Perfect strokes filled the skies,
Dogwoods, juniper and hemlocks
Showing nature's souvenirs' best
Petals ripening airy and fair
Sunny gates facing winds and sun,
Swaying branches high and low
From the mellowed chestnut trees.
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2005
September.26.2015
Categories:
callas, beautiful, flower, magic, nature,
Form: Free verse
I am Nebuchadnezzar
As I eat grass
As my arrogance and pride
Turned me into an ass
I am humbled, I am lost
I am on all-fours
And I cannot even count
The cost
I am Rommel
As I charge through the sands
As hot metal oil steel
Conquers vast empty lands
I am lost
As I count the cost
As billions of flies
Sit on a thousand dead eyes
I am Callas
I am Coriolanus
I am Yeats
I am Bill Gates
I am – I am
One of a kind
As the sleeve-strapped jacket
Has buckled my mind
I sing for my supper
My supper sings back
As my hidden fleet will scupper
As my U-boat’s hulls crack
And as I sink in my sleep
My debris will rust
Down to the deep
Of madness and lust
Categories:
callas, angst, conflict, confusion,
Form: Dramatic Verse
You are not the man, you want to be
You said you were my Father, till, I discovered different
Enduring, daily beatings
Bashing the living day lights, out of a woman and a child
Repetitive, bad ass attitude, nasty streak
Mean and aggressive!
Fists, knives and guns, your weapons of chose
Out of control, abusive, devious
Relentless, over – bearing!
Breaking me, piece by piece
Confusing a child, with unhealthy love
Hand fed your ********, brain washed
Using me as your human, punching bag
This innocent child’s blood, staining your callas hands
My child’s curiosity, asking you one day
“Why do you hurt me and Mum?”
Your retort: “I am not your blood!”
I didn't understand, back then
Now, as an adult, I clearly understand!
Believe me, when I say
There was never a day that went past
That you didn't remind me of that!
My freedom, restrained
My sanity, tested
Caged, like a wild bird in captivity
Behind bars, looking out
Here, I am today, free from your grip
Nursing, this inner child’s, bleeding love
Categories:
callas, angst, child, childhood, confusion,
Form: Free verse
Hear the hated song
Think things will go wrong
Cannot relax, on edge, scared
Expecting illness
My fate seems hopeless
Sweating like a creature snared
Play the remedy
Callas works for me
Relax, unwind, heave a sigh
Play again for luck
Lets me off the hook
Smile and wave ill luck bye bye
Jack Horne for Nette's Aloutte your Cleansing Ritual
Categories:
callas, music,
Form: Rhyme
For Adeleke's Top Ten
Snow
James Bond
Will Shakespeare
Woman in Black*
Maria Callas
Roberto Alagna
Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales
Agnetha Faltskog from Abba
Shakespeare’s house, Stratford-upon-Avon
Drinks: Bitter, stout, Guinness, Benedictine
* Susan Hill's ghost story
Categories:
callas, happiness
Form: Etheree
My childhood memories of the 1970s in England
Flared trousers
Platform shoes
Long hair, sideburns, beards
Abba and beautiful Agnetha
Raleigh Chopper
The Exorcist
Open shirts
Lava lamps
John Travolta and Olivia Newton John
Starsky and Hutch and Charlie’s Angels
Star Wars
Decimal currency
Three piece suits, long collared blouses
Hendrix, Callas, Elvis and Bolan die
Carry on films with Sid James
Brut and Hai Karate
David and Angie Bowie
Margaret Thatcher
Workers strikes
Jack Horne for Nette's TwentyNet contest
Categories:
callas, nostalgia
Form: Verse
Her Casta Diva truly great,
Maria Callas soothes my soul,
The music moving me to tears,
This is the finest piece I know.
I listen to her voice and smile,
Get goosebumps at her perfect tone.
She sang Bellini’s masterpiece
And made the aria her own.
For Soul Tunes
Categories:
callas, music
Form: Rhyme
From poverty to superrich,
A Prima Donna - some say witch -
But what a voice that lady had.
Oh, she was Tosca, driven mad,
And she was Norma, Butterfly,
And many more who loved, to die.
She died alone, a broken heart:
Maria Callas lived for art.
(witch wasn't the word I originally wrote, but it wasn't permitted - witch in this
context means shrewish woman).
Categories:
callas, art
Form: Rhyme