Pushing the envelope outside the box
if only here to accentuate
the many ways in which
emu may emulate
by delivering nutrients' benefits
and what's more
help repair with anti-aging hydrate
yet won't clog your pores
they herd the birds in a mob
not a troublesome job or task
with ladle fire pit pot and hob
'How is it collected?' I hear you ask
as allegedly good for the skin
anti-inflammatory emu oil
is scooped off the bubbling surface
when they're brought to the boil
sky cracked
hunchback
moon spreads
her bed
window
soft glow
staging
chasing
nighttime
lifetime
coming
going
sleep tears
sleep fears
brim full
hollow
Written By:
A. Pseudonym
The Motif was decided to
precede each new verse
The words were written
to inspire a sound
a big bold beautiful
sound
happy enough to smile
melancholy from the frustration
of lacking inspiration
having been blessed with those
who share the interest of completion
and a strong spirt
those music lovers
are willing to collaborate and compose
to complete that full rainbow of
emotion that put's signatures
on something which
pride allows those
to understand.words that inspire music
the joy of collaborative efforts
the sadness of not being able to full afford
the full Orchestra
the freedom to create
the human experience( in celebration of)
and the natural way it feels to be around lovers
of Music in a creative sense!
Characterized by Professionalism
and Collaborative Effects.
Strong Bold Big Sound Music Company
Performances By Us Inc.
Tux-Gowns
rags and Sheet' music
I saw him put sand on the epoxy rosined floor
to create a sound when he Tap Danced.
It was his way of helping up
create a sound a melody and beat.
It worked we did several Compositions from
this feat.
When not out clubbing
hey-ho the merry oh
at night with the Inuit
I suspect by intuit
an intrepid Inuk named Nanook
a-hunting walrus he would go
with his trusty harpoon
traipsing 'cross the ice and snow
then when paddling afloat he went
in the harsh Arctic environment
to keep out the bitter cold and damp
in the very bottom of his boat
there was a fiery seal oil lamp
which eventually burned a hole
and without trace into oblivion he sank
with nothing to mark the place
in those deep dark blue depths so dank
even so who can ever forget
this tall tale chilling yet true
as his demise to the pithy proverb gave rise
'You can't have your kayak and heat it too'
For Jason and his Argonauts, golden wool was theirs to fleece
For the British, Iran's oil was theirs to drill and steal
In '53 the West led Iran's democracy into a tyrant's peace
Now we call the trouble since all part of God's grand will
So many harsh lessons are learned in winter's darkest days
Only to be forgotten as we approach a warm September
Yet in the annals of time the truth is on display
It is incumbent upon us to stop, pause, look and remember
J=Juniper berry oil for hair,
U=Urinary health wellness care.
N=Natural detoxifier if I dare,
I=Improving circulation with a prayer.
P=Promoting healthy aging is what I need,
E=Evergreen small shrub I will plant and feed.
R=Reducing skin irritation so I do not bleed.
Do you know for a split second you stopped my heart?
So I'd feel the jolt when your touch made it restart
Your hands paint feelings that never truly depart
Those eyes— two gorgeous brown galleries of fine art
My words are thick oil; you've painted with them boldly from our start
Our duet's masterpiece; allowing us to enjoy every part.
Oil Fields
Too many long hours in the day.
Many hard days under the sun and in the rain.
After so many years, I now understand.
You worked a hard job on the land.
I don’t thank you enough.
With iron you have to be tough.
Sun up oil and dirt.
I appreciate all your time as I observe.
Sorry for leaving you behind.
You have impacted my life.
You have always been someone I could talk to.
You’ve influenced me to work hard, so true.
I still miss the old house in a small town.
The good old days lost and found.
Wewould go fishing on the weekends.
Thanks for taking time to listen.
From father to his son.
Through blood we are one.
Weboth look the same.
I think about you every day.
A hard man's life in the oil fields.
You can finally rest in the green fields
I gaze upon the spectrum of the past in rainbows and oil stains,
The lights dissolve into a sea of colors, of green, blue, and red,
And I fade with them, like a dream slipping away at dawn,
I sigh my words onto the window, a silent poem meeting your gaze.
On nights like this, even breathing becomes a heavy task,
I hold your hand, but in your palms lies the weight of an unyielding war,
You watch me weep the tears of a life, a river of memories,
In a silence that sings the burden of an unspoken farewell.
There must be a way out, a path from the labyrinth of shadows,
Where light reconciles with darkness, and the soul finds peace,
A place where goodbye becomes a gentle whisper, carried by the wind,
And where the heart can learn to beat again, free from the weight of the past.
So I let the rainbow embrace me, to wash my colors clean,
As I move away from the specters that held me captive,
Seeking that corner of the sky where silence embraces hope,
And where parting becomes just a step toward a new day.
The bottle pours too fast,
gold-green streaks darkening the wood.
It smells like something honest,
I wipe it clean
before anyone notices.
Hearts shattered
Open ice
Friendly smiles
Competitions vice
A tie, they say
A game well loved
How can we win
When peace is the ideal above
We slaughter them humanely
We butcher them halal
Oil don't do well on our coast
And Orca's don't do well there
Are we better at entertaining than winning?
Now there's an original thought
We'd better burey the Oilers
Otherwise we'll get caught
I was but a tin man,
A cold and heartless can,
Frozen solid stuck on my feet,
But then I heard a beat,
It was you that oiled my joints,
Many unrivaled selfless points,
You cared for this piece of tin,
To give life where none had been,
Caring for me with little rest,
Until again a beat from my chest,
Showing me what true love was about,
Recovering a can when he was down and out.
Sardines in olive oil
A shop in Lisbon exclusively sold sardines
this interested me since my Norwegian mother
had worked at a factory selling tinned sardines
I asked if they had sardines from other country
they didn't but told me in tinned bacalao they
cod fish came from Norway
I noticed sardines in olive oil with the year the tin
was made, began from 1905 to 2024
but the years from 1930 to 1943 were missing
I asked why, but no one knew, I think no one had
noticed the gap
The staff at the shop, when I told them about
my mother was charmed and gave me a couple
of sardine tins from 1944
Oil on paper, skies are grey
It’s a windy autumn day
I see linens on the line
Bedsheet swings behind the vine
There's your shirt of navy blue
And my sweater of green hue
And it was so long ago
Where now do we belong?
I’m not sure I can tell
Memory can’t serve that well
Can you recognize the place?
Did we really leave a trace?
Oil on paper, V&A
Sunrays flash impales the grey
Linens, swinging on the line
Through the foliage of time.
Waiting patiently in the customer area with a room full of quiet people
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