Drinking Alcohol taught me how to fly
Then it took away the sky....

Tuesday, July 15, 2014

MEMORY--OH! WHERE YOU GO?



DREAMS

Dreams borrowed from god of night,
next day trying in vain to recall
so to excite with my pondered write

Straining to replace what's melted away:
Inspiration
perspiration
Respiration
might they together "save the day"

OR....

Wheels of my mind...HALT!
STOP! in your suddenly meshing grind
In frozen moment, press Shift, Control, Alt...
realize what was lost was not mine.

Allowing thoughts of serene peace and love
to silently meet with me at the first of light.
--Smiles

--steveroni
07/15/2014

I performed a Google "image search", could not find source...


Wednesday, July 9, 2014

MAG #227 The LATE PRIEST



From Magpie Tales

THE PRIEST WHO CAME LATE TO MASS

In old church I prayed, sitting solemn on my ass
Young man came in...reflected in the glass
Walking--in a hurry
Holding something furry
Said, "Please take this kitty, while I offer mass..."

--Steve E
Posted for Magpie Tales

Sunday, July 6, 2014

Please say, "HE LED A COLORFUL LIFE"...




IMAGE: Photographer Marcy Purdy


Hans Christian Andersen

In the little town there is much festivity:
they are holding a wedding there with dance and play.
To the happy man, the wine sparkles so red;
but the bride looks like whitewashed death.

Yes, dead she is to him whom she cannot forget;
he is at the feast but not as the bridegroom.
He stands among the guests at the inn,
stroking his fiddle cheerily enough.

He strokes his fiddle, his hair turning grey.
The strings resound: shrill and loud;
he presses it to his heart, paying no heed
whether it breaks into a thousand pieces.

It is quite hideous when one dies this way,
his heart young and still striving for joy.
I cannot and will not watch any longer!
It will make my head spin.

Who are you, with your fingers pointing at me?
O God - graciously protect us
from the madness that may overwhelm us.
For I am myself a poor musician.

--HCA