pastoral

patent leather rain pelts morse code

on amber waves of multi-grain  

and christmas geese guard easter goslings from black hawks

Photobucket

there’s a madman at the lake

throwing fishing line into emeralds,

singing to the willow weeping there

he’s looking for the 9am express to Never Never Land

but where’s the door, Alice? no. silly.

Alice doesn’t live there anymore. ask for Tink.

he’s the fool at the lake

mouthing god’s words…

and alarmed at cat calls in infant growls

everything is something else, he says

nothing needs to be what it is

he knows it.

the world is this… mixed nuts

41 comments

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    • pfiore8 on May 8, 2008 at 4:43 pm
      Author

    mornings

    • RiaD on May 8, 2008 at 5:19 pm

    love this pf8!!

    • Edger on May 8, 2008 at 5:33 pm

    For the inspiration this morning, pf8. 🙂

    • Alma on May 8, 2008 at 6:00 pm

    Love it!!!

    Just the kind of stuff I dig.  🙂

    • OPOL on May 8, 2008 at 6:40 pm

    Rainy day…dream away…

  1. I used to date Tink’s sister.   Like Tink, she believes that everything is something else, and that nothing needs to be what it is.

    She always told me the rain’s gonna wash away.  

    I believed it.  I still do . . .

    Tink’s sister always slept when it was raining.  She should have been writing poetry instead.

    Thanks, pfiore, I love this poem!  

  2. I came home and slept fitfully after work. Weird dreams that I remember vividly. No wild sex, but plenty of strange adventures. And the phone rang all day but when I called my grandmother and mother, neither had tried to reach me.

    The problem is I am exhausted as if I slept none and now I have to go back to work. Blah.

    • RiaD on May 9, 2008 at 12:58 am

    but youtoobz doesn’t have it…..

    i know you know it so pretend its playing & sing it in your head….

    james taylor~ suite for 20G

    Slipping away what can I say

    Won’t you stay inside me month of May

    And hold on to me golden day, slipping away

    Sunshine on my wall

    To keep my mind on the things I’m saying

    Footsteps in the hall

    To tell me I’ve been this way before, nevermore

    Let it rain sweet Mary Jane

    Let it wash your love down all around me

    Come inside and put it down

    Let it rain

    I’ve been trying hard to find a way to let you know

    That we can make it shine most all the time

    This time ’round I’m searching down to where I used to go

    And it’s been on my mind to make it shine

    You can say I wanna be free

    I can say someday I will be

    You can say I wanna be free

    I can say someday I will be

    When I catch a common cold

    Wanna hear a saxophone

    When I let the good times roll, baby

    Slide me a bass trombone

    Walk me down old Funky Street

    Lord knows I feel good enough to eat (now)

    Oh my soul. Now, I’m sure enough fond of my rock ‘n roll

    When I go to sleep at night

    Wanna hear a slide guitar

    When I’m feeling loose and right

    Riding in my automobile

    Boney Maroney and Peggy Sue

    Got the rocking pneumonia, got the boogey-woogey flu

    Baby, hold my soul. Said, I’m sure enough fond of my rock ‘n roll

    Good God, y’all, lookey here

    • brobin on May 9, 2008 at 1:18 am

    Teasing!

    Sometimes…

    everything is something else

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