stay

Kwyjibo

you're the best part of my long dreary day
and I don't even get to see you anyway
unless I flip through my wallet and know
that you're out there somewhere,
somewhere I can't go

but the best part of my long dreary day
is imaging the possibility
that one day you'll visit again
you'll visit... but you'll stay

ISN

by the bumper cars, in the pretty twining light,
i may have gone too far,
i may have gone too much, too long.
i'm a dull and witless boy.
in the after bars, think i was sullied by a dream.
in the killing jar,
you and me at war at arms
all falling in embrace.
tell me why you lied
and what it is you do to keep your eyes all shiny
a tawny gypsy girl
sleeping blanketed by stars
beneath the tilt-a-whirl
where we were coyly caught alone
all fumbling with your blouse
tell me why you lied
and what it is you do to keep your eyes all shiny
and in the rollercoaster din
by the parachutes in saddle shoes you break your shin
but i have never seen two eyes so shiny
and the sullen beery swine
try to tangle you in sullen beery balls of twine
have they ever seen two eyes so shiny?
the boys in denim vests
smoking cigarettes between their bootblack fingertips
sweetly tipsy by the half-light
the light and the half-light
tell me why you lied
and what it is you do to keep your eyes so shiny

now that's poetry.....I like stay too

Kwyjibo

I'll say your uncle was a crooked french canadian
and he was gutshot running gin
and how his guts were all suspended in his fingers
and how he held them, how he held them, held them in

and we'll remember this
when we are old and ancient
though the specifics might be vague
and I'll say your camisol was a sprightly-light magenta
when in fact it was a nappy bluish grey

FinsburyParkCarrots

Originally posted by Kwyjibo
I'll say your uncle was a crooked french canadian
and he was gutshot running gin
and how his guts were all suspended in his fingers
and how he held them, how he held them, held them in

and we'll remember this
when we are old and ancient
though the specifics might be vague
and I'll say your camisol was a sprightly-light magenta
when in fact it was a nappy bluish grey

The uncle made me think of a guy in an unmade Sergio Leone western. Not exactly sure why the guy's nationality was mentioned though; a "crooked french canadian" might be read as a stereotype by some people, even though you might not intend that.

But I like the poem's idea of vague specifics. That would make a good title for this, poem, actually: "Vague Specifics".

Cheers for this.

Barroom Hero

Originally posted by FinsburyParkCarrots
The uncle made me think of a guy in an unmade Sergio Leone western. Not exactly sure why the guy's nationality was mentioned though; a "crooked french canadian" might be read as a stereotype by some people, even though you might not intend that.

But I like the poem's idea of vague specifics. That would make a good title for this, poem, actually: "Vague Specifics".

Cheers for this.

Hopefully it is a stereotype. Never liked the French Canadians...;)

ISN

it reminds me of ...."when you are old and grey and sitting by the fire"...Yeats....and Bob Dylan for some reason....

nailz100

Don't be dissing the Canadians......we'll come down there a lay the smackdown on your ass.....with snowshoes.

of_the_girl

pat.

why are you so fucking awesome? eh? EH?

bossman3188

"Stay"...speechless poem. love it

Barroom Hero

Originally posted by nailz100
Don't be dissing the Canadians......we'll come down there a lay the smackdown on your ass.....with snowshoes.

The English speakers are alright in my book!

But, at the threat of being beaten with a snowshoe, I will lay down my armss...and surrender to you.

bossman3188

i wanna bring back some of the old poems that have left this part of the message board....its been down so long i figured some should be brought back


~~~the classic bump~~~