Thank you Lori,

I haven't written anything in so long with the exception of 1 recent poem. I decide to the juices going w/the Karnak threads... And perhaps post something for critique after I polish if off abit.

That stanza is the one I can most relate with too. I think many of us rush around not taking time to enjoy life too often.

Hugs, Liz ...
Look for more of these... I love the way they sound.

"I don't remember childhood years"

has such significance for me... but for different reasons than your well-done poem portrays... though I identify with the content here as well.

It's hard to believe you've not written much... and I miss interacting with your always excellent insight.

Love in Light, Daniel

I’m ambling in the woods again
where I escape with pad and pen…
yet mustn’t leave
my chair, for I would not return;
that wanderlust would twist and churn…
my mind deceive.

I dare not quit my desk today;
unanswered calls, home visits weigh
upon my mind.
Vacation left some work undone,
so now is not the time for fun…
back to the grind.

Vacation left some work undone,
so now is not the time for fun…
back to the grind.


Back to the grind again Daniel - I can relate to that one.

Hope you are relaxing away from work now....

Hi Daniel,

Sorry I hadn't gotten back to this... Sometimes, with time constraints, I have to decided which forums to spend time in while on line.

I miss interacting with you and learning from you as well...

Thank you...

Your latest Logarhyme is also quite fitting and in my mind and life, I can more than relate--It is as if someone is writing about me and what is going on in my life... THank you... for sharing

Best Wishes, Liz

Thirst Comes First

I'm pleased to find your voice in here;
along the way, one bell's pealed clear:
To write of me
is apt to loose a readers' chains
to face those run-away-from pains
I feel and see.

Third-person writing does help teach,
but oft a reader's thought I'd preached...
and run away;
but when we sense we speak of me
it's easier for us to see
ourselves... an' stay.

© 07 Aug 2006 MLee Dickens'son

deLightin' in the process, Daniel

Very powerful message. Don't quite well. When you have some time, perhaps posting it for revision will weed out any little clunks and bring out the profound message for many others to see. I think the message here is valuable and needs to be read by many.

Best Wishes, Liz

Thanks, Liz... and I'll post it as my next one in Homely Herman's Hideaway... as soon as I can rent a space.

dashing... sLightly, Daniel

On This Night- Logarhyme

Tonight's the night, I wait all year
to fill with fright and put in fear
all who will call.
When little goblins, ghosts or imp
come trick or treating, watch me limp
stumble and fall;

I needn't wear a costumed dress
for on this night I must confess
No mask have I.
Old pumpkin head is who I am
my fame recalled; that little lamb
I once made cry.

A knocking on my door it came,
and witnessed me lighting the flame
on candle wick-
The little lamb had took to flight
into a dark Halloween night.
My treat, his trick...

To see me there, by light of moon
with orange smirk just like a loon
noone would ask-
When midnight strikes, I'll go and hide
my pumpkin grin, all tucked inside
a handsome mask.

My shoeless ex in garbage stench
was sitting quiet on a bench,
this early morn.
I quickly asked why was he there
but he just sat, grub in his hair-
his clothing torn.

I tried directing him inside
to save myself a little pride;
no neighbor's out.
He mumbled, grumbled, stumbled up
and on his feet, said "Hey's what's up"
he yelled quite loud-

I led him in, walked down the hall
toward the bathroom's shower stall.
An aweful smell
coverd about with gravy and goop
a slight scenting of doggy poop,
oh what the hell ...

In his rambling I heard him say,
"I came to call this holiday
and have a chat-
I slipped a passed your window sill
intent to offer a sudden thrill;
stepped on the cat.

The dog awoke and chased me down
I jumped the fence, and there I found
a garbage can.
This guy appeared within my sight
and gave to me an awful fright,
who was that man?

That's quite a story, Liz, my friend;
I hope there is a pleasant end
to give us too.
There's myst'ry hid inside your lines
that sends sharp chills all up my spine;
is all this true?

appreciatin' Light, Daniel

Dear All,
This is a real peach of a thread. I doubt I've ever read a better thread!
Cheers, ron

Too many months have passed since we
have played this tune. Some repartee
is overdue.
No Grace, no Liz... we've lost their fizz...
but we can get 'em back, gee whiz,
to fill their pew!

Hi Daniel,

I read this thread with great interest and amusement. Thought I'd give it a try. If I have failed to comply with the rules of this form, let me know.

Larry



Impaled upon the vagaries
of fate; or fortune if you please
I shall embark
upon a yet untraveled trail
of Logarhyme, which may entail
trips into dark
or dimly lighted errant steps.
I know precursor guidance helps
me through the stark
and scary realm of something new.
Where this may lead, I can’t construe.
It’s just a lark.

Dear Larry, you have started well,
and where you go, no one can tell,
but I expect
with how you've written here thus far,
you'll move ahead, pass many a star
you'll intersect.

You've used enjambment well, my friend,
continuing right through the end.
I tip my hat.
I've nothing more to teach you here,
so move ahead, where'er you steer.
Frame them with matte.


deLightingly, Daniel

Thanks Daniel!

I'm so delighted that I got
a big thumbs-up; it means a lot
coming from you.
For in this form, words seem to dance
from tongue to page, given the chance
and thus, imbue
the thoughts we wish to share with those
poetical or even prose.
Although they're few,
a permeating swell of rhyme
entices strangers to this clime
'till there's a queue.

Larry

Here then is my first real attempt to write a long Logarhyme. Hope it pleases!

Love Bug Billions

There is a tale I must impart
about a plague which seems to start
as summer wanes.
It’s not a virus or a germ
but its effect I can confirm.
No baseless claims
are made of the severity.
It’s rampant, the epitome
of Southern woes.
Entomologic magnitude’s
extent must not be misconstrued
for Nature throws
a plethora of wing’ed swarms;
red-eyed with lust, in fields and farms
which nothing eats.
In tandem flight, they’re always seen;
a procreating bug machine
‘till it completes
that yearly rite, but I digress.
I’m here to tell you of the mess
they leave on cars.
The Love-bug’s why I’m so aggrieved
through evolution, they’ve achieved
adhesions stars.
For reasons unbeknownst to man
they’re filled with glue which no one can
get off with ease.
On roads and streets, on freeways too
they turn to kamikaze goo
on glass and paint
of every car and truck. The blight
continues on both day and night
without constraint.
I’ve seen the evidence first hand
of body parts which can withstand
ten gravities
while pasted to a speeding car.
Your wiper blades will only jar
your fantasies.
If there’s an innovative mind
who can concoct or maybe find
a way to glean
that magical adhesive blend
of love-struck bugs will comprehend
what riches mean!

Oar Again

I'm sorry that it took so long
for me to read your sad, sad song
about love bugs.
The sticky subject fills my mind
with things that I have left behind...
with great heart-tugs.
But I cannot be thinking now
of what's behind, for I must plow
the furrow here
and plant and water; then I'll reap
what I have sown, and then dig deep
to be austere
'til we retire with something saved
since former years that we had braved
ere starting o'er
with nothing sixteen years ago
and marching through the ebb and flow...
who knows what for?

© MLee Dickens'son

"He" Provides

It's sad that you must now restart
retirements hedge. It breaks my heart
for I'm as old
as you my friend. I now depend
on checks from "Sam", watch what I spend
and what I fold.
I ne'er would ask "What was the cause?"
Being so rude would give me pause.
That wouldn't do.
So I'll just say, "Good Luck", "God Speed",
I know He tends to every need
and so do you.

We ran a mission right from scratch,
helped many folks, did not detach
until too late.
I didn't act as some advised
and ended up hospitalized;
it was my fate.

My family finished up the year;
the school-year months are just a blear
inside my brain.
We used the little we'd accrued
to get a mortgage, acting shrewd.
We'd start again

with nothing but my Chaplaincy
and temporary jobs; we'd see
what God would do.
Now ten and seven years have passed
and Uncle Sam pays me at last,
soon Eileen too.

But we must work at least a while,
repairing, sharing without wile
to pay our bills.
A year or two, or maybe three
we may retire, but we will see
through all our ills.