Happy Birthday PastaNazi
setaside2
Posts: 1,084
The queen and Gaia of all she surveys.
A quick lick of the nib and perhaps some flick poetry shall give a settled glance sly and a smile shy and a little more love to live by...
<cough><clears throat><holds sheet high><grabs mic in quieting cafe>
...........
On your birthday, your man
Sitting here surrounded by the highest of tech...
imaging and sound
all binary things with which to sculpt light and shape waves
Carving those petroglyphs you showed me in
color and cosine.
all subtly and not so subtly done for you.
I've learned many tricks of trade
licks of flame
from you and the gaze you toss about room and field with near carelessness
Somehow catching all you see and bringing it back into view and clarity on
boxes and highways.
I have the pleasure of watching your Camels brightened with jetstream appear as
pockets of fire
a she-volcano continues her circadian poetry
bonded ash feeding the very grass at our feet ready
to be cut.
You're a gardening fiend.
And.
Nobody loves like you do.
Check the children who watch with starry eyes
worshiping your ground
Standing in your footsteps in wonder, in awe, just how
you can manage to stride as long as you do regardless
of your height.
Always told you, "Underneath all that there'll come a day when
someone's come along
to unfold you and hold you up and realize your length and your depth
and your geometry and biometaphysiology will assume a form merely
8 feet high."
With wings, I am secretly certain. And eyes of beryl.
And a Honda Civic with Buttercup bumperstickers.
Beating wings in the faces of strangers a startled swan
satin and silk
the tones sung and inflections painted
stain and affect, steal and project, life and rejuvenation to
those wanderers on
Strength of ten women and hence 40 men, you astound:
limestone bedrock strength
with the supple tempered tactile feather of soft heather and thyme
a 15th century bed fit for a king, his queen, and all their dreams
held close darkly;
Held close dearly by her personal furnace, her steady pilot light,
her fire hydrant in a hurricane...
bright eyed with a hand outstretched
looking for a
wake to calm.
I love you. Happy Birthday. I owe you so much.
And you continue to amaze and amaze and amaze.
Love always.
Seta
p.s. love, sorry this one's a bit rough <shy smile> written on the fly you know.
A quick lick of the nib and perhaps some flick poetry shall give a settled glance sly and a smile shy and a little more love to live by...
<cough><clears throat><holds sheet high><grabs mic in quieting cafe>
...........
On your birthday, your man
Sitting here surrounded by the highest of tech...
imaging and sound
all binary things with which to sculpt light and shape waves
Carving those petroglyphs you showed me in
color and cosine.
all subtly and not so subtly done for you.
I've learned many tricks of trade
licks of flame
from you and the gaze you toss about room and field with near carelessness
Somehow catching all you see and bringing it back into view and clarity on
boxes and highways.
I have the pleasure of watching your Camels brightened with jetstream appear as
pockets of fire
a she-volcano continues her circadian poetry
bonded ash feeding the very grass at our feet ready
to be cut.
You're a gardening fiend.
And.
Nobody loves like you do.
Check the children who watch with starry eyes
worshiping your ground
Standing in your footsteps in wonder, in awe, just how
you can manage to stride as long as you do regardless
of your height.
Always told you, "Underneath all that there'll come a day when
someone's come along
to unfold you and hold you up and realize your length and your depth
and your geometry and biometaphysiology will assume a form merely
8 feet high."
With wings, I am secretly certain. And eyes of beryl.
And a Honda Civic with Buttercup bumperstickers.
Beating wings in the faces of strangers a startled swan
satin and silk
the tones sung and inflections painted
stain and affect, steal and project, life and rejuvenation to
those wanderers on
Strength of ten women and hence 40 men, you astound:
limestone bedrock strength
with the supple tempered tactile feather of soft heather and thyme
a 15th century bed fit for a king, his queen, and all their dreams
held close darkly;
Held close dearly by her personal furnace, her steady pilot light,
her fire hydrant in a hurricane...
bright eyed with a hand outstretched
looking for a
wake to calm.
I love you. Happy Birthday. I owe you so much.
And you continue to amaze and amaze and amaze.
Love always.
Seta
p.s. love, sorry this one's a bit rough <shy smile> written on the fly you know.
I'm stepping in front of the gushing hydrant in a hurricane. I'd like to see the traction I keep.
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Take care and God Bless,
Lizi.
edit: seta, that was BEAUTIFUL!
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
But then You make me crawl
And I can't be holding on
To what You got
When all You've got is hurt
----
Underneath this smile lies everything
All my hopes and anger, pride and shame
So.
lol.
Happy Birthday.
For REAL.
Now.
not like that other thing there wasn't for real, because, you know, it was...
but you understand.
To you Rachel, Happy Buffday sistah! May the year ahead bring you all your heart desires and give you a million joyous moments........
i gave up on making sense a loooong time ago. happy b-day girl
love n' such to you
http://www.myspace.com/alotalotbetweenus
*pops the top and sips a bit of CHEER!!!*
As she slams the door in his drunken face
And now he stands outside
And all the neighbours start to gossip and drool
He cries oh, girl you must be mad,
What happened to the sweet love you and me had?
Against the door he leans and starts a scene,
And his tears fall and burn the garden green
H`A~P`P~Y B~I`R~T`H~D`A~Y!!!!!!!!!!
lovE,
ALLISON:)
(aLI)
A whisper and a chill
adv2005
"Why do I bother?"
The 11th Commandment.
"Whatever"
PETITION TO STOP THE BAN OF SMOKING IN BARS IN THE UNITED STATES....Anyone?
AND
Such a sweet serenade, seta!
Love,
Yer Palli
xoxoxo
The risk I took was calculated, but man, am I bad at math - The Mincing Mockingbird
whether or not I sing it well, or write it well, or do it honor.
well, that's another thing altogether and cannot often be helped lol.
hello to all.
just south of the northern boarder
one small memory on my mind
everybody, they know me there
don't get any second glances
chances are that they don't care
world has come undone
like to change it everyday
change don't come at once
it's a wave
building
before it breaks
...just a little intro music... like that found on answering machines and the like...
thank you, marc... the poem is lovely and speaks higher of me than i deserve. the honor song and word done most well, if I may say so, myself. I love you and am looking forward to holding hands by the brook under the stars in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1....
and with a wave (building before it breaks) to all my friends, perfect lefts... i will be there, once more... a gremmie
peace to all, specific gravities and such
Rachel
vinte cafe americano, por favor
merci