Random Baked Objects

I loved you, but doesn’t everyone?

I picked your name because I liked its sound

Triangles are square and orbits are round

You ate my pancakes, I combed your hair

And the others stopped keeping track of us

So now perhaps we’ll take the bus

You’re vaguely familiar in that biblical way

Like all weekdays that end with “day”

We sailed away and counted stars

I’d go with you to settle Mars

Cameras lined up in my head

They look at what my pigtails dread

You’re fond of green and blue and red

And patterns filling up my head

Maybe we would build a zoo

With cows that bark and dogs that moo

They can’t bake like we can do

A plate for one, a pie for two

*     *     *

Found this, wrote it a while ago.... originally for a Spektor parody collaboration idea with Sumodude, but I kinda like it as is... of course, if the collab happened that would be cool too.

Angelic

Being

Coruscate

Dancing

Euphonically

Faintly

Gliding

Haphazard

Intrepidly

Jesting

Kaleidoscopic 

Lilting

Mosaics

Nuancing

Orbiting

Precariously

Quixotic 

Remnants

Softly

Tenacious

Until

Veritably

We
Xylophonically
Yield
Zygotes.

Just kidding, that's inappropriate. How about "Zeppelins"?

I can rhyme too.

Lancaster
Zoroaster
Alabaster
Solo's Blaster

Aster

Plaster

Master

Vaster

Exasperate

Dick Dastardly


Curses upon grocery store radios for getting the chorus of "I Run To You" stuck in my head.

Take 45

A failure to live, or a failure to die?
No, this isn't about mortality
A different kind of soul

One that exists only in a certain frame of mind
So many souls coming and going, it seems

An irregularly perforated timeline speaks only when ignored

An introspective curse

In an outwardly expanding universe

Notches

Do you think it's possible
We say that we're insane
Is that really sun or do you think it might rain
Isn't being sore from dancing better than the ruts of staying low
Could we trust when the world whispers that there are more ways to grow
Forgetting when it happened, spinning in and out of sight
Don't forget that what you see may not be what is right
In rhymes and dimes and lovely things, no pattern is seen yet
All it is will carry on
By sunrise or sunset

Mariachi Rhymes

Didn't we say nothing would be wrong

Perhaps it was singing to fill our own ears

Or just spinning in circles for so long

Drumbeats cutting out the patterns for our years

Am I really the only one who ever gets curious

Oh to set the not knowing into past tense

But then who said we have to be serious

Nothing always did make the most sense 

Sometimes it's not so great to be good at pretending

Although maybe I'm just fooling myself

Yes the double-triple meanings are unrelenting

Gonna fall; they're halfway off of the shelf

All I can think of is that maybe it's theft

When saying what you couldn't have meant

So much and so little of the time we have left

Or maybe that we've already spent

Influenced

In the end when the words wash over us
and the golden light wasn't enough to keep
on dreaming, being afraid to fall asleep
for fear of waking up. All doubts
would seem to not matter, except
the regrets which refuse to allow such
memories to decay. The tortuous havens
of silence which by choice or necessity,
were the only way to continue. Beauty
and inspiration seeming unreachable once
again. But all of it not mattering.
For then we come to wonder if the
inherent irreplaceableness of those souls
that bring color to the world is simply inside
our own minds.
Until we find once again, that it's lovely to
be wrong.

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."