A Paco Lips

Oh, life's a ball and we're having it so
Always some sunshine, don'tcha well know...
Gotta have rain to make the flowers grow
I'll gather them, tie them up with a bow
And give them to you for when there is snow
When it's too cold in the day, we'll dance all the night
Not too old to play, young enough to be right
Our mountains and treetops become metaphors
While slipping and sliding on those hardwood floors
I tell you, I can't master those things in socks

And I love how we never have ends to our talks

When life becomes dreary, we'll splash in the puddles

And laugh hard enough to forget all our muddles

And then, as you know, sometimes things will be cheesy

But too many kittens just might make me sneezy

So all in all, as I've been trying to say

However we got here, I'd have it no other way

Just off the top of my head.... a very whoosh poem.

"You may tell me."
"Post it! Nao!"

A story.

We were better friends than we’d admit

Understood more than we let on

But less than we wished

Teasing, arguing, condemning

Neither ever backing down

New kids in class together

Fourth grade

You were the genius kid the girls nicknamed Fatman

Fifth grade

You knew how to make people laugh, although sometimes they didn’t and you laughed alone

Sixth grade

You didn’t cry at school anymore

Seventh grade

I didn’t like you because you teased and knew it all

Eighth grade

We discovered the power of letting ideas feed off each other

You gained reputation as the coolest student body president in the city

The girls liked you now because you were fit and had good hair

Ninth grade

You ran to catch up in the hallway and matched your stride to mine, silently

You'd grumble about your problems
And could talk your way into or out of anything

Then

After one last project

You never talked to me again

Not even on graduation day, when you sang for all of us

I looked you up on a whim

You were accepted to the best university in the country

And you have ugly hair now

Wrote this because of an idea Lisa gave me... one of a series. Remembering things forgotten for years... funny how unemotional one gets.

Chance of precipitation: 100%

 Have I ever told you
  The questions I would ask you
  If I were not afraid
 Listen, can you hear that music?
  Were I as forthright as it

 Have you ever wondered
  The question I would ask you
  Were you not so silent
  So many voices unrelenting
   I begin to lose track of the music

These days will change to tomorrow
  So they say
 And the dirges repeat and fade

When looking forward keeps you going
 What happens when you can't see?

Hear it now
 Rising falling we are
  Rising falling we fade


"What are you doing?"
"I'm transferring a poem... because it's rainy. And that's what you do on rainy days."

Wonder Wander Goose and Gander

We built our towers higher
As the clouds tumbled down around
The music
            it battered us
 Seeking that which we could not name

 The directions and maps of no one's making
   Or perhaps our own
 Forging a destination

 To save nowhere from being nothing

 Perhaps the air grows thinner

If we could but take off
  From the edge of uncertainty
Too cautious for wings
  We must reach it another way

  By our towers

Where shall we put the summit?

the number you have dialed phenomenon

I want to say Tell me

  Tell me it's not my head

 Tell me what you haven't said

Tell me why you won't 

          Speak

And then I fall asleep

   But even in my dreams

        You won't

I can't sleep

    My mind won't be still

You might know why

Don't ask me

     It tumbles like a machine

       Polishing stones with sand

  Over and over

 Until they become smooth and beautiful

    When will the words become beautiful?

  Over and over...

Fall

In daylights neverending
Speaking sometimes of love
Every successive moment taught me
Those things we knew nothing of

Like the silhouettes upon my wall
Dreaming beyond where I awaken
The only path we had
Was the one that's never taken

In words there is no sense left
There are songs that won't leave my head
I don't believe them anymore
Things aren't true just because they're said

Finding out a different way
New definitions for hastily placed rhymes
Try, let's see if we can make it
To that place we left all those times ago


This is what happens when I write while listening to music... I looked back at what I wrote and went "oh, really?" ... and I have half a feeling it isn't done.

Vanish Inside

Slipping and skidding
  In a choking rain
 As I stepped out into the dizziness
  Of flinging caution away
 And the world was about to dissolve
 In churning colors and thickening beats
 I heard something I recognized
  A song projected upon your voice
   So many times over
  Now again it clears the sky
   Now again my breath returns
The clouds have edges now

Making Perfect Nonsense

 In a time that shouldn't have been
    There was a reality that wasn't
      An unsymmetrical reflection
        And it all passed by
         But didn't
       Because it was never there to begin with
    And when it came again
  (But didn't, because it couldn't because it was never there back when it shouldn't have been even if it was, which it wasn't)
   I greeted it again.

Snippets of ZipCee™

“Do you think people will see us?” Cee wondered softly.

“I think if they look closely,” Zip replied.

More than 360,000 kilometers below, a young astronomer at Mauna Kea Observatory drew back sharply from the eye of his telescope and blinked. Girls? On the moon? Those alien world video games must be getting to him. He peered cautiously around the side of the telescope to double-check where it was pointed. Nope, it was directed smack at the moon as it should be. Drawing a deep breath, he looked into the eyepiece again. Nothing but craters and shadows. Very slowly he leaned back and gazed up at the softly glowing full moon above him. A quiet, still slightly puzzled smile spread across his face. Instinctively, his fingers started drumming out a beat on the arm of his chair.

Zip and Cee Go to the Moon

One night when the leaves were crinkly and the slate clouds reflected the reddish glow of a sleepless city, Zip and Cee decided to go to the moon.  Zip had never been to the moon, but Cee had gone almost halfway once and knew a bit about the process.

“We have to walk around backwards first to erase our footprints so the moonbeams don’t get dusty. It wouldn’t be nice manners,” Cee said solemnly.

                “But how will we find our way home without footprints?” Zip looked slightly worried.

                “We’ll leave them in the most important places,” Cee said. She handed Zip a small potted rose with a single furled bud. “I have one too. We’ll meet back here when they begin to blossom.”

                The girls started slowly walking away from each other backward, picking up speed as they grew more confident.

                “It’s easier to go fast if you stay on your tiptoes!” Zip called to Cee who was disappearing into the dark, determinedly matching her foot to each footprint.

A little while later, Zip thought she heard a shout and far-off “ooph” but ignored them as she was busy trying to figure out how to leave a footprint on top of a rock. She finally gathered some nearby moss and arranged it to look like a sole and five toes. Satisfied, she straightened up and saw that her rose was almost open. She climbed down and made her way back to the small clearing, well-lit now by the rising moon.