Movement Shod
Heeling halt
Abbreviated democracy
Flank in route
Gaurd maneuver out
Folded company
Beret for address
Redress complete
Back in Britain
Marina Ann Hantzis
Princess Matilda
Vulnerable Matilda Prodigy
Florence of the ash reddened twine Nightengale
Graphic design
I come from a brass adorned general
We don't resemble excess points
I am exit of branch in brass adjacent brad
Minute brigadier
Halt
Ag is creation
In duration of appointment
Grass is yawn
Foreign testimony
Irresolute burden
Friendly visions 1
The refusal of hindrance
Nulled void in presence of buddha
Blvd.
Bill of ardent
Assembly of literature budget
Education boundary activities
25th hour calls on sight
My friend most beautiful
sat shoulder to shoulder with me
after the lights went low
and the show began.
We took in ballad after ballad
the tender voice hour after hour
and a spell was cast.
The song of Don’t Let Me Be Lonely Tonight
spoke to me— I could almost cry.
I glanced at her
and she looked straight ahead.
This was the night I wanted for months
although we had some casual dates
o the times when I pleaded for more
but tonight she was so tender
when I put my arm around her shoulder.
I knew the night was good for her
when we stepped out the elevator
onto her dormitory floor
and the music resonated in my mind.
The taste of her kiss was so sweet
on that special night.
She must have known
it was our last.
Reading a poem about a horse
with a stain
on the author’s page. Patron
ate something saucy,
as he read of a war statue,
forking or spooning
probably pasta or slurping
poetry, precariously, I ponder,
as I wait for the oven timer
to deliver dinner. Deviled
ham quiche - the aesthetic
embodiment of
eggs & cream, cheddar,
onions & cayenne
firmly held in its shell.
I’ll eat in the early afternoon
and get a lift
to see Cheap Trick &
Rod Stewart. Not the cheap
seats, but the special ones
saved for the limo driver’s guests;
he will be chatting it up
behind the stage or
just standing by.
I can’t get past a couple
pages, having stopped
at the blot. A library lie
that these hard-covered words
are all mine, well his;
a-muse-d at a blank page,
how I’ve filled its plate,
and how
I will separate
my pie from my eye.
I sat next the guy who sat to that"ole Gal"
that night that they talked it over.
Over and Over again
they talked about it.
I heard words of love
and endearing concerns.
They talked about everything
from frustations to ferns
they spoke of the need to understand
and a bneed to know more
one things for sure
they talked it out.
See what is worth mentioning
in all this constant tentioning
were it needed explaination
it turned up straightened
they talked it over
they talked it over
so that all could understand
hold on Mister
the lady has a point
stand up for
yourself
get out in front
don't hide behind your woman
her needs have been addressed
you got the first part
now lt's finsh this rest
the contract is negocated
so to all concerned
we have one signuture
it's the other parties turn
there it
we should all stand and appluad
thank you all for your
pateince
now lets thank the LOrd!
When asked, 'If the orchestra conductor
had made an effort more concerted
not to miss the concert
and a sordid scene averted,
would he have been less disconcerted?'
"Don’t ask me, I’m only the drummer,"
replied I in chagrin.
And, altho' the name of my favourite band
is the one I am currently in,
I do like the sound of the moniker, 'Big Ben,'
it's music to my ears and have to admit,
it has a certain ring to it."
As it appeals one feels it would sell well as a bell
(at fifteen point one short tons)
and wake everyone with its loud knell.
After the concert
Now, in the afternoon of my life
My thoughts are about love and romance
These pesky things are disturbing
My tough exterior makes me soft and weepy
When no one looked is now in front and
Naked I appear; yes, you old fool
Words of love and music for the heart
Make me cry and loosen the knot of old
Resentment tells me nothing matters
Except loving someone and not being afraid
Love is the freedom that gladdens the
Tired heart and cleanses the dust that fell
On wisdom and truth
A rowdy, rollicking time
writhing in fresh mud and slime
A pig might even call it ‘a bath’
~ didn’t mitigate mom’s wrath
moonlight and a Parisian concert ~ floating along the Seine, inert
primary colors on canvas spilled ~ artist's perspective was fulfilled
Today my grandson played trombone;
His sister danced around
As this nana and their grandpa
Soaked up every move and sound.
For as they grow up, it isn’t always
Easy or stress-free,
But this mid-day concert made the day
As good as it could be.
The time ahead is limited
So now we must enjoy
Every upbeat minute with our very
Favorite girl and boy.
Tonight,
A pretty older mother,
At my retirement community's July 4th summer concert,
Speaks to her daughter with a thick Korean accent.
The Traveling Wilburys tribute band plays songs by
The Wilburys, Bob Dylan, George Harrison, Tom Petty, Roy Orbison, and ELO,
All bands and artists who've made music that has excited my heart and spirit
Almost my whole life.
Mother and daughter
Have so much fun,
Dancing to every song.
A man in front of me
wears jewelry and a loose-fitting robe,
covered with colorful animal pictures.
Separate souls
Choose to join
In one happiness.
Someday, I hope to make it rhyme.
Noise, the medium, of endless tedium
low decibel levels at a premium
Female artists as naked as Eve
snake around poles the devil weaves
Rubbernecks gawk, pay top dollar
to writhe in sweaty squalor
A sinuous strain of a cello
With a lovely violin to follow
A harmonic piano's echo...
as it walks up the corridor
From my battered, sullen heart...
to my bewildered mind
A love once so sweet and kind
Why is peace so hard to find?
And so, the concert continues as it somberly plays
Melancholic, poignant registers in these days
Along cacophonies of front bands, I’ll play harps for all my apples.
harp
to the mouth at the mic
on one side
the awe-maker
on the other side
the awestruck
harp
to the ear at the air
invisibly gained
bleed the crowd
The fourth grade band was playing
But my eyes were there alone
Not for flutes or clarinets or drums,
Just Henry on trombone.
All the music was familiar
From the practicing he’d done,
So I knew just what was coming
Once the concert had begun.
He looked confident and happy
Sitting up there on the stage
As I realized, in his childhood,
He has turned another page.
What a thrill to watch him growing
And I know if I’m around,
That wherever music takes him,
That’s the place where I’ll be found.
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