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Posted: March 19th, 2005, 11:23 pm
by Lightning Rod
There is a mosh pit in Jerusalem
it springs eternal as the Wall
kids in Yassar robes and piercings
carrying it further

Posted: March 19th, 2005, 11:30 pm
by Lightning Rod
Sammy Hagar
he was a soul singer
in the White Bread sort of way

the syrup was more surypticious than you think
like maple vinegar or a lubricated infection
the coma was a persistent rumor

De Sade couldn't have done better
the weather was changing
like sweet preserves and pregnancy.

Posted: March 19th, 2005, 11:38 pm
by Doreen Peri
Mythmaking is the taking of history,
complete with valid facts, usurping the
surreptitious quiet, dark secrecy of
characters and melding them, validly
into a storyline, all for the cause of
a moral.

Revisionist historians depend on
mythmaking. Revolutionaries, powerkings,
queens of salutary conclusions, storyboards
composed by advertising giants, mystical
matters reconstituted for a new season.
MTV comprehends the elevation of
gossip, NBC revises daily reports,
CNN has content management software
installed with a space for non-descript
citizens to reply in public eye.

Mythmaking is an art. Ads to promote
an ideal, feel-good sensationalism.
Stratas, strataspheres.

Truth is this.
Spring is no myth.
Eggs can be painted with blood or
despersed by semen, seeds planted
yielding dirt beneath nails.
Someone falls
off a cross every day,
no matter the way the sun sets
or the time behind mountains, hills,
skyscapes, his or her blood staining
the ground we walk upon and this is good.
This is good.

Spring is no myth.
It appears vigilent within
a quarter rotation, Love reborn
with a jonquil.

Still, my heart entwined with yours,
recipients of wonder and delicate

Trace life with the surface of an index finger
around a circumference of a facial profile!
Touch me with your myth!
I rise from below silt and residue to become!
Each myth is young! Each, vibrant!

Spring sings silent
songs which long
for play!


Posted: March 19th, 2005, 11:40 pm
by judih
annotated inferences

sammy hagar
a good boy with a nasal condition
he meant well but he just couldn't blow his sound
jericho was a no-go

de Sade recommended killer red ants
along with the syrup
but the packages were never fresh

The sunny side of the street
is always greener

Posted: March 19th, 2005, 11:59 pm
by Doreen Peri
Each preceding year,
I have flourished with the
equinox, this, an annual ritual!

I arrive once more
resurrected by music
composed under your eyelids,
performed by a sunbath!

eyelid existence

Posted: March 20th, 2005, 12:36 am
by judih
if i were an eyelid existence
i'd surely rebel
bursting through skin molecules
navigating membranes
heading for the light

o say can u c

Posted: March 20th, 2005, 12:41 am
by judih
it's getting near time
it's almost closin
spring's on tap
whatcha don't drink today
will change tomorrow

Posted: March 20th, 2005, 12:53 am
by Doreen Peri
Daylight is equal to
Darkness. It is a time
for confusion and balance.
Honored to share your space,
hear your voice amid a rush
of angelswift answers!
Darkness equals

It is the Equinox.
You are just as much
Royalty as jelly stored
in hives for tasting!

I blow candles out with an exhale,
thank each and every wordsmith
for a lovely song, wait in the
greenroom for the cast

Good morning!
Good clever repartee!

Spring is in the wings!
Spring is in the wings!
The audience takes roses
with a bow!


Thank you all for being here and participating... I enjoyed your words and I'm honored to host the Word Jams. You all inspire me so much, I'm afraid I rambled on! Apologies and welcomes! Your insights are lovely .... so beautiful your verses!