The January 21 Knock Yer Socks Off Jam

Jan 2005
perezoso

Post by perezoso » January 22nd, 2005, 1:29 pm

Jus' another winter day
with nothin' standing in her way;
'tis time for a spot of earl grey--

So.

Malvolio says to Feste,
you, fool, work for the King
and shall feel resentment's sting

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Artguy
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Post by Artguy » January 22nd, 2005, 1:38 pm

The tragic jester he jests not as he hangs in early morning light....

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Lightning Rod
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Post by Lightning Rod » January 22nd, 2005, 1:39 pm

now the snow like projectile nerf bullets
from the barrel of heaven's Smith & Wesson
tons of white yearning moisture
frozen as a lilly tormented by cold
"These words don't make me a poet, these Eyes make me a poet."

The Poet's Eye

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judih
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Post by judih » January 22nd, 2005, 1:58 pm

heaving away
theme grows silver
snow blocks avenues
night clouds moments

sighing into last minute saturday
simple twist of fate
holds my mind

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tizz
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Post by tizz » January 22nd, 2005, 2:08 pm

all is white
can't hardly see
blanket thick with crystal tears

all is quiet
traffic stopped
as moke swirls up from a neighbor's chimney

sweet serene
so calm and still
waxing up the runners of grandpa's fexi flyer

love the snow
so clean and crisp
set it up with the chiropractor

excuse me while i shovel on out

perezoso

Post by perezoso » January 22nd, 2005, 2:12 pm

High Ho, Silver Avaunt!
Anon! Entonces, Tontitos;
Ranger, Lone, with erect bone
thick, rippled, fleshly stone:
Tonto!

HOW.

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mindbum
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Post by mindbum » January 22nd, 2005, 2:13 pm

morning blues
are covered quick
by snow

it didnt take long
for the street to disappear
the ground is so cold
godless & songless, western man dances with the stuffed gorilla through all the blind alleys of a dead-end world.

-maxwell bodenheim

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Doreen Peri
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Post by Doreen Peri » January 22nd, 2005, 2:13 pm

The sky is virtually solid white. It is coming fast. There is something spiritually awakening about the earth getting buried in a cold white blanket while we are warm inside.... like a cave.

Here's last year's snow poem..... written spontaneously at the time so it's a jam, I guess.

snowed in ice verses

virgin snow white lays
down with seven inches
coming; earth cold hardened,
molding angel wings on porch
swings; branches reach to embrace
her; she, enLightned by virtue of
a new blanket; thankful for god's
pure weep; clothed in the keeping
of a winter promise.

hyptnotize me with eye shine -
i dine on your glistening,
listening to time silenced,
following your path dug in,
my hand ready to give,
gloved perfect, held to your
breast;

the rest of the world has disappeared.
all i see are snowflake tears,
each unique; all i hear is
your voice singing
cardinal songs, red
with a background
of white jazz.

i, the virgin breath of life
read by you, bloodied,
undefiled, never truly touched
or seen until you saw through
passages, shoveled away
dare and doubt, allowing
my drift, skating over
pooled ice on a protective
reflection pool, discovering
warm fire placed inside
heartwires;

i am the virgin hope,
the unrefined scope
of storm, finally adorned
by your squall;

and i came,
sheer, simple, called
to a snow kiss, diamond
eyes, pristine sighs, each
flake, each flake awakening,
faces turned up to catch
skydrops;

there are fence posts
buried below inches of pain;
you uncover me aglow, snowrain
making halo rainbows
atop of ice miracles.

you thaw me.
you thaw me.

fences can keep out unwelcome
visitors or help protect spring's
garden now being saturated
with immaculate ice, crystalized

the tempest is fresh fallen,
laden with trust; rue the force;
imbue the surprise, the forecast
never accurate, forever compromised

there are buds blooming on evergreens;
purple blossoms not to be pruned;
soon comes the melting, in tune
with comfort, sped in, slowly seasoned.

we reason the falling - eve on her back -
virginal tracks of cats dance on keys, playing bass
to accompany the upcoming sacrifice.
ice will melt. there will be the digging out.

i touch debussy's reverie with unrehearsed fingers
trying to locate appropriate notes to linger
as witness to miracles, whispered.
a goddess never shouts. she
offers instead a snowkiss.

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judih
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Post by judih » January 22nd, 2005, 2:19 pm

pulling out memories of snows from say, 26 years ago,
i come up with freeze-dried amnesia
hot ratatouille
long evenings listening to erratic tales
boots and capes and dark hotels

hot lust warming up strange snowed in cul de sac
rendezvous with adultery
ice cubes bursting out of tray

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tizz
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Joined: December 31st, 2004, 9:55 pm

Post by tizz » January 22nd, 2005, 2:21 pm

"mommy can i go outside now?"

not yet sweety it's snowing too hard

"but i found my snowpants moomy, can i go outside?"

not yet kiddo you will only get mad at the wind and snow in your face

"mommy i got my sled can i go out now?"

no wait for it to let up

"i found my goggles can i go out yet?"

sweetheart what did i tell you before?

"but you can't talk like that to me can i go out now?"

is anyone else out yet?

"no i get to be the first. can i go outside now please mommy?"


.......................................

10 minutes of getting ready, fight over the hat, the gloves are on wrong "i don't want a scarf!" "no not that sled the purple one!"

omg she has to go potty.......

ok 20 minutes later outside so cold the wind is stronger than i thought. each crystal stings gods i need new boots and sox. not i can't make a snowman the snow won't stick.....

1 minute 24 seconds later

"mommy i'm cold can i go inside now"








sigh

perezoso

Post by perezoso » January 22nd, 2005, 2:21 pm

O purple blossoms yet unpruned
thine sugared scents doth make me swoon--

When from on high fall crystal flakes
by hearth we tend to fleshly aches.

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Lightning Rod
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Post by Lightning Rod » January 22nd, 2005, 2:28 pm

snow bleaches the land
lika SmithinWesson in drag
a lethal bride portrayed
the sky is earnest and gray
and the flakes move
like cartridges of ice
a fatal, frigid flow
Last edited by Lightning Rod on January 22nd, 2005, 2:31 pm, edited 1 time in total.
"These words don't make me a poet, these Eyes make me a poet."

The Poet's Eye

perezoso

Post by perezoso » January 22nd, 2005, 2:30 pm

Frosty, the Chester,
had a thing for little boys
he plied them with a
candy cane
and took them home
to play with toys


O Frosty, the Chester,
was drawn to little girls--
he lured them in
to his '73 gremlin
then petted their tender curls......


:twisted:

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judih
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Post by judih » January 22nd, 2005, 2:33 pm

brandy
rotating by the fire
you, me, intoxicatingly

nights so slow to pass
toes under thigh high socks
roll down sultry bare
skin rug, hot dare

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judih
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Post by judih » January 22nd, 2005, 2:34 pm

short and sweet
takes on new meaning

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