I don’t like cats, really,
They scare away birds, pretty ****,
The robin, the blackbird so smart,
They think only of eating weaker than them,
That to jump the balls of innocent wool,
My garden had a sweet music yesterday,
Today it is quieter than a grave,
Cats scare away, nice birds,
They don’t see much further than their pretty nose,
Oh the caresses they expect, what false money,
Turn your back; they devour all your friends.
Je n’aime pas les chats, vraiment,
Ils font fuir les oiseaux, les jolies mésanges,
Les rouges gorges, les merles si intelligents,
Ils ne pensent qu’à manger plus faibles qu’eux,
Qu’à sauter les pelotes de laine innocentes,
Mon jardin avait hier une douce musique,
Aujourd’hui il est plus silencieux qu’une tombe,
Les chats font fuir, les gentils oiseaux,
Ils ne voient pas beaucoup plus loin que leur joli nez,
Ah les caresses qu’ils attendent, quelle fausse monnaie,
Tournez le dos, ils dévorent tous vos amis.
How beautiful and discreet, this port, at night,
When you listen to fado, come that voice, Misia
It becomes deep and mysterious, sonorous,
Its numerous lights are warm as wool.
How enchanting this port, at night, o night
Between the sea and the starry sky that sleeps,
Its illiterate cranes are so stupid, yes,
Yet they really know the pain of the world,
How beautiful, so quiet on the horizon, this port,
When listening to fado, O Misia, my queen,
We want to love you like Lisbon or Porto, now
I understand Rimbaud abandoning poetry.
Qu’il est beau et discret, ce port, la nuit,
Quand vous écoutez du fado, cette voix, Misia
Il devient profond et mystérieux, sonore,
Ses lumières sont chaudes comme la laine.
Qu’il est enchanteur ce port, la nuit, O nuit
Entre la mer et le ciel étoilé qui dort,
Ses grues analphabètes sont si bêtes, oui,
Elles savent pourtant la douleur du monde,
Qu’il est beau, si calme sur l’horizon, ce port,
Quand on écoute du fado, O Misia, ma reine,
On veut t’aimer comme Lisbonne ou Porto, Enfin,
Je comprends Rimbaud qui abandonne la poésie.
In the midst of the storm, when the world's cold and gray,
Her beacon of light brightens my day.
A friendship of kindness she shares every way,
Her heartbeat of joy reflects our sun’s rays.
A melody's silence, a calm in the storm,
Her comforting presence, energetic & warm.
In the darkest of night, she's my guiding star,
I get lost in her thoughts as light shines from afar.
Her smile, lit sunshine, as my solace remains,
A joy that stays hopeful as kindness attained.
I hope you’re aware as my eyes gaze through your stare,
Your precious reflection is unrequitedly rare.
Through the highs and the lows, the joy and the pain,
She's joy made from sunshine after each rain.
With a friendship so pure & free from life’s strain,
I pray she remains my gifted friend, Laine.
Your rainbow sky lights above colorful rain,
The strength that sustains when all efforts wane.
With a bond oh so rare & a complexion of care,
Her precious friendship is beautifully rare.
So here's to Laine, a friend I hold dear,
A bond unbroken year after year.
May our friendship endure through thunder & pain,
Pulsating in sunshine , forever unchained.
On the tides of words,
The eyes too light,
In the running of zebras,
I’m looking for it,
Under the wool, night dreams,
On the precious jewels,
The faces without worries,
I’m still looking for it,
On the torn heart,
By the Mayan treasures,
On the sleeping sun,
I’m looking for it,
In my nervous city,
In the fields of olive trees,
On the softened glass,
I’m looking for it,
In the bed of sources,
On the stopped trains,
On the docile clocks,
In the riddles of heaven,
I find it,
The happiness you’re running from.
Sur les marées de mots,
Les yeux trop légers,
Dans la course des zèbres,
Je le cherche,
Sous la laine, rêves nocturnes,
Sur les bijoux précieux,
Les visages sans soucis,
Je le cherche encore,
Sur le cœur arraché,
Par les trésors mayas,
Sur le soleil qui dort,
Je le cherche,
Dans ma ville nerveuse,
Dans les champs d’oliviers,
Sur le verre adouci,
Je le cherche,
Dans le lit des sources,
Dans les trains arrêtés,
Sur les horloges dociles,
Dans les énigmes du ciel,,
Je le trouve,
Le bonheur que vous fuyez.
L-et
A-crostic
I-mplement
N-ame
E-mploying
F-orm
A-s
J-oy
A-nd
R-apture
D-o
O-perate
Topic: Birthday of Laine G. Fajardo (June 28)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
Tommy joined up in 1914
Though he was really too young
He was just seventeen
They gave him a uniform
They gave him a gun
They sent him to France to fight the Hun
Why he was fighting he wasn't sure
He was an innocent victim
Of a terrible war
He stood in a trench in water and mud
He watched as his comrades
Gave their life blood
His friend Johnny Laine stood at his side
A snipers bullet hit home
And young Johnny died
His tunic was splattered with Johnny's blood
Tommy's eyes filled with tears
As he lay in the mud
Tommy looked up to Heaven and angrily swore
That never again
Would he go to war
Just six months later his promise came true
As a snipers bullet
Pierced him right through
As he lay dying on that cruel day
This brave young man
Was heard to say
Johnny I'm coming we'll be together again
Far away from the trenches
Far away from the rain
So Johnny and Tommy are together once more
Where no bullets are flying
Where there is no war
So like Tommy lets swear as he did before
Never again
Will we go to war
L-yrical
A-crostic
I-s
N-icely
E-xpressed
F-orming
A-nother
J-oy
A-s
R-ispetto
D-elights
O-penly
Topic: Birthday of Laine G. Fajardo (June 28)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
As Arkansas could never be Alaska,
so no-one wants Montana to be Maine.
Could North Dakota claim to be Nebraska?
Can Vachel Lindsay double for Hart Crane?
If Sing Sing isn’t Appalachian Spring,
and Justin Bieber can’t be Frankie Laine,
or William Burroughs isn’t Stephen King,
then Terminator Two’s not Citizen Kane.
If Fifty Shades is not The House of Usher,
and Ginsberg couldn’t write the Wayside Inn,
why should you think that China’s part of Russia,
or Kim Il Sung is also Ho Chi Minh?
Why should they be colluding, callous elves?
Why can’t they be as different as ourselves?
hail yee not my empty butterfly
for thy heart yet not to die
i chose yee being alike
in some sort of way
not all the day
thou art thy pain suffering rain
on feathers flying of solitude laine
how art thy note and fled to boat
no love no vain no notice
why now shall i blame
for what once was a game
Hard to fathom what makes us tick
We're all unique as they say
One person loves rock and roll music
Another loves Sammy Kaye
Was always a true Glenn Miller fan
And big bands of the 40s and 50s
Vocalists like Sinatra and Como
And Frankie Laine was also nifty
WOW! Am I living in the past or what
With crinolines and saddle shoes
Terribly miss these much simpler times
Suffering from a case of the blues
Guess each generation misses their past
When things were a lot more fun
This roller coaster ride can get us down
Just enjoy your day in the sun
Must be realistic and accept the future
With all of it's scary unknowns
If you approach it with a great big smile
You'll wonder where the years have flown
© Jack Ellison 2015
75 Words
Close by relation and
Distant by miles
Distance, dissonance descending
Deeper delivering doubt that
Seeps like a teabag you steep
Is the mountain as you stumble
Dirt crumbles under your feet
Is the measurement of
How far you fall when
You won’t see the hand waiting
To catch you because
Hidden truth is the same color
As a lie in wait
For words spoken
In a voice you have yet to create
Time for
Change.
?????~ Susan Laine
Hard to fathom what makes us tick
We're all unique as they say
One person loves rock and roll music
Another loves Sammy Kaye
Was always a true Glenn Miller fan
And big bands of the 40s and 50s
Vocalists like Sinatra and Como
And Frankie Laine was also nifty
Boy! Am I living back in the past
With crinolines and saddle shoes
Terribly miss the much simpler times
Suffering from a case of the blues
Guess each generation misses their past
When things were a lot more fun
This roller coaster ride can get us down
Just enjoy your day in the sun
Must be realistic and accept the future
With all of it's scary unknowns
If you approach it with a great big smile
You'll wonder where the years have flown
© Jack Ellison 2013
With the Pied Pipers, you first achieved success.
Not many women had your vocal prowess.
As a duet with Frankie Laine and Gordon MacRae,
you garnered much popularity in your day.
You were most famous as a solo artist.
The hits you recorded made a very long list.
Your wonderful voice sounded so heavenly,
with your great melody “You Belong to Me”.
I can’t get enough of another song of popularity.
That would be the number one hit “Make Love to Me”.
Yes, success in the industry came so easily for you.
I miss you since 2008, when you bid adieu.
Ancient Goddess
humans have worshiped you
for love, fertility, night, mist
and ocean's blue-
Huntress, protector
Creator of the sweetest nectar.
Many civilizations
for thousands of years,
under many names-
You have been the benevolent
defender of mortal fears
Moon haze she sweats-
worshippers on knees bow
when her silver hue and human eyes are met.
M inerva
O ps
O shun Ana
N ott
G efion
O dudua
D ionysus
D iana
E laine
S akhmet
S elket
for the Whole New Worlds contest
Oh, my sweet Soup sweethearts,
So much love you send my way.
How much more can a man ask for?
Sharon, Christy, Rhoda, Catie,
Farah, Renee,Sweet Ruby, Sue,
Patricia, Sandra, Carol,Karen,
Heidie, Elaine,Teressa, Trix,
Caryl, Vernette, Julie, Anita,
Bella, Laine, Susan Cousins,
Karen O'Leary, Melainie Ross,
Patricia Contreras, Judith, Bella,
Louise, Crystal, Melanie,Alexa
and all other of my poetic vixens,
wiser than men in many ways,
I love you all!!
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