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August 2017


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Ali zonak @ 08-18-17 16:40
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Larry @ 08-16-17 13:58
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Ali zonak @ 08-13-17 17:29
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Ali zonak @ 08-9-17 19:35
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Ali zonak @ 08-4-17 14:53
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Ali zonak @ 08-4-17 11:01
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Psyche @ 08-4-17 00:17
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Larry @ 07-31-17 08:25
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The Rock’n “S” Ranch and Wrangler Bill's Demise
Posted by Ali zonak - 08-18-17 16:40 - 0 comments
Gate to Ali's/Lynda/s Homestead in Arizona
Attached File  35m_se_of_kingman_az.jpg ( 478.86K ) Number of downloads: 0

The Rock’n “S” Ranch and Wrangler Bill's Demise

It happened some five miles from home,
the Rockin’ S Ranch in the vale;
Old Wrangler Bill died on his horse,
he was as dead as a doornail.

His ol’ Nell brought him home at dusk,
one hand still holding tight the rein,
the other clutching his mare’s mane;
he was beyond all earthly pain.

We heaved him from the saddle which
by no means was an easy chore,
for here’s the doggone, honest fact
I had not thought of much before:

His pair of legs in chaps were shaped
much like the split-down letter “O”,
he’d rode them horses for so long--
on ground he walked bowlegged--like so: ( )

Each leg looked like a hunting bow,
just as behooves a buckaroo,
but now he’s dead. When all was said,
it’s better him than me or you.

We buried him on top Boot Hill
right next to his old pardner Dave.
We hung a bridle on a cross
and whizzed upon that cowboy’s grave.

We said some words to fit the bill,
then raised a glass of some vile swill
and drank a toast to him and went
to see what he’d left us in his will.

Well, that night we had El Niño
a-comin'-down. That flood we get
about ev’ry so many years—
it rained and rained and all got wet,

and mud came sliding down the hill—
and so did Bill who didn’t pause
till he had reached the bunkhouse porch--
half-buried in the mud he was.

Though muddy, wet, old wrangler Bill,
he did arrive at heaven’s gate;
St. Peter looked him up and down,
and asked, “How come you are so late?”

Well, Bill then hemmed and hawed, told tales
about the saintly life he’d kept
and some such lies to beat the band,
until St. Peter sobbed and wept,

and let him join the heaven’s host.
In lieu of harps, he plays guitar
and jangles both his rusty spurs.
At times, you hear him from afar

a-singing ‘bout his rugged life
down at the ranch called Rockin’ S
and his beloved a-RI-zo-NA,
then bitchin’ about me, I guess.

Happy Trails, Pardner Bill.

Read 3 times - make a comment   

City Boy
Posted by Larry - 08-16-17 13:58 - 2 comments
City Boy

Bouncing like an underinflated ball,
I sat on the old Farmall tractor seat
towing a bush hog through grass that’s too tall
for push or riding mowers to compete.

Leaving rows that could be turned into hay
if one were to possess a good baler,
which I don’t; I made use of them all day
for guidance like I was a poor sailor

lost at sea. Getting sweaty and too hot
to continue; my inexperience
at any farm work showed that I was not
the person for that job and ever since,

I’ll let Mother Nature take her own course
while I watch grasses grow without remorse.
Read 30 times - last comment by Larry   

Boat versus Boot
Posted by Ali zonak - 08-13-17 17:29 - 0 comments
-------------- DAS BOOT-----------VERSUS ----------- THE BOOT
Attached File  clip_artDasBoot.png ( 179.3K ) Number of downloads: 0
------Attached File  100_0909.JPG ( 1.26MB ) Number of downloads: 0

“Das Boot versus The Boot”

“Das Boot” I wore for riding--
I would not ever wear plain shoe;
one time it had a rusty spur.
I gave the boat to Lynda Lu

who cleaned it up with saddle soap.
I told her, “Get that speck of &%*&...,”
She said, “Go put a sock in it,
Gawd’s sake, you just don’t ever quit!”

“Das Boot” was caught up in a war;
A submarine is called a ”Boat”
but the German says, “It’s a Boot,”
as I, of course, was quick to note,

Shown here is one oil-painted “boat,”
but where the other one might be--
I could have sworn I had a pair--
I guess THAT boot was lost at sea.

(Did I make myself quite clear?) No,huh?
Read 38 times - make a comment   

Attempting a Portrait
Posted by Ali zonak - 08-9-17 19:35 - 2 comments
Attached File  OilPortrait_9_06.jpg ( 225.42K ) Number of downloads: 2

Attempting a Portrait

Your hair is soft. Gossamer would feel coarse
against my cheeks. Your locks, splendidly fine,
would throw fair Venus into fits of jealousy
By daylight, when you are awake, I must
attempt to paint your portrait in oil, but I know
that once again my skills shall fail me.
Do I render this flower in radiant colors to achieve
such lovely bloom? Still, I should have failed
to do you justice. Paint those parting lips?
Ah! I must touch them and look into your eyes—
eyes that enhance your features, like the stars
that serve to beautify heaven. But you are asleep.
Read 62 times - last comment by Ali zonak   

Lover's Lighthouse
Posted by Ali zonak - 08-4-17 14:53 - 5 comments
Lovers' Lighthouse (Inspired by my Oil Paintings)

A light for those in peril on the seas,
this lighthouse stands upon a ledge to warn
away the erring ship. At night one sees
its sequence, flash—dark—flash, until the morn,
but sweethearts know, this structure built on reef
notes all their secret words divulged at night.
Though interspersed with gloomy darts of grief,
it carries Cupid’s smile on beams of light,
and should a love feel threatened by cold haze,
the lighthouse proves receptive to one’s plea.
Its beacon, bound to heartless rock, will blaze
and cast its rays of hope across the sea
in ever constant sequence, 1—4—3,
which, every lover knows, means: “I—love—thee.”

Note: Minot’s Ledge Lighthouse —known by south shore locals as the “I Love You Light” for it’s 1-4-3 flash signature.
Read 85 times - last comment by Ali zonak   

Two Lighthouses, photos by Ali Zonak
Posted by Ali zonak - 08-4-17 11:01 - 7 comments
Greetings to all poets and writers:

This week we have two lovely pictures provided by our fellow poet Ali Zonak. They are here to inspire all of you to write sonnets, ballads, villanelles or any other form you wish. You may also write FV poems and short stories. Select both or one of the pictures.

Attached File  JerrysLighthouse2017_1_1.jpg ( 805.25K ) Number of downloads: 0

Attached File  point_loma.JPG ( 1.24MB ) Number of downloads: 3

MM always looks forward to your answers to these challenges. Can't wait!

Good luck, Psyche

butterfly.gif claps.gif dove.gif ballet.gif cheer.gif thumbsup.gif hsdance.gif
Read 168 times - last comment by Ali zonak   

Patagonia Lost**
Posted by Psyche - 08-4-17 00:17 - 7 comments
I've posted this poem here because it has end rhymes. Not all perfect ones.
I'm mostly interested in a few suggestions to give the lines some sort of fixed form, perhaps changing some words to achieve that. I don't want a complete re-write of my poem, so if it's too complicated don't take the trouble!
Thanks a lot!


In many ways I’ve left behind the dreams and loves
I cherished most, and yet as years go by the word
adios still binds me to the coos of turtledoves;
the glare of Austral skies, where a circling bird

swoops to snatch a creature fleeing in the brush.
Of trails Tehuelche braves stalked in bygone days,
or nomad’s camps safe from the Holy Grail rush;
before winka sliced the steppes with railways

forged by slaves to traffic Remingtons, or purged
the patterned prairies of jaguars and ñandues.
Concrete dams and buzzing pylons emerged
on cactus lands, carcasses shed lucent hues

on llanos swept anhydrous by the wailing winds.
Thus memory is laced with fuzzy images
of childhood pastures… heartstrings
my thoughts will not let go despite the ravages

of time and loss. So to the present day I smile
at all my lost or wayward worlds -red horizons
receding in a cone of plangent light- meanwhile
spirits summon me from crowded pantheons

of Patagonian lore. Captive of the fading
tones that grip my heart or force an odd grimace
cling to phantom walls, I cannot rouse the swaying
poplar trees, nor speak to you, caress your face.

by Psyche.

Read 103 times - last comment by JustDaniel   

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