Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

I tell him when he has knots in his hair.
He shrugs and doesn't seem to care.
I tell him when his shirt is buttoned wrong.
He ignores me, sings a little song
and so I sing along.

He never says a word when my makeup's on askew.
I view myself in the mirror. I inquire if he knew
and if so, I ask, why he didn't say.
He answers, "If I told you, you would fix it.
And I love you just that way."

I tell him when his reasoning is erred.
"That argument's not logical at all," I point out.
He, of course, refutes my claim,
restates his case without a doubt,
looks me in the eye as if he has an ace
up his sleeve and my thinking is impaired.

He let's me know he doesn't want to go
to whatever place I want to go that day.
But then he goes anyway.
And when I ask him why he came,
he answers with a groan,
"Because I wanted to be with you
instead of home alone."

He doesn't inform me about
various and sundry topics
since his tendency is toward
the philanthropic.
He's generous to a fault that way.
If I knew about some things,
it could ruin my day!

I always let him know
when I've heard from an old beau.
That may sound absurd
but I have to say it since
I know he'll read these words.

This is great. Would love to see the comic book version or the animation.
(or is it too late;have i already provided the sidewalk, sideways look and the lipstick kissed crooked?)

judih

doreen,

this is one of the best poems you have written

(I'm not just saying that because it's about me.)

it's funny and universal

and so, so doreen

that's all it takes to be poetry

really like the way you structure your poems
and weave them amazing
zingy
and when you do that it conveys a special magic around the theme.

This was an amazing piece of writing Doreen....
I enjoyed it, what a tribute to the man you love...

judih - that's a cool idea! Comics to go with silly poems ... gotta think about that. Nah... it's never too late. Everything's been done before. That's the glory of it! Every time somebody does it again, it's different! Thanks for reading

Lightning Rod - ummm... one of the best poems I've ever written? you really think so? And you're not just saying that because it's about you? OK. Thank you. Glad you got a kick out of it. It cracked me up writing it.

jimbo - you're a dear...... glad you enjoyed this bit of fluff & whimsy. I was thinking of writing another one called Fluff, the Magic Dragon... no wait! That's been done. Dammit.. everything's been done!

Cathy - how great to see you here! Thanks for reading... I'm happy you enjoyed it. Hope to see you here more often!

high i am just so muchflufffff

sweetie


how did you know




oh jazz hazz it like that every thing done before iz worth celebrating'

the ancestors

what we don got
heal the ancestors


tell the truth now
speak out unruly chillen


tell thee truth about colonialism
savor the culture of zimbeezlebubwe
above the ivory coast
un named gods
unumbote

Doreen ,this is a major likable poem ,i enjoyed reading it -gave me a smile.

Doreen
That was, Sweet as Tupelo honey.

Doreen:

This is a warm and witty love poem. The oblique statement of love through objects, or, to put it another way, finding objects that seem to reflect love, or possibilities for love, is a gift.

You possess that gift, and the wit to cast it into form.

Here is another favorite "oblique" love poem of mine. I have pinned it to the bulletin board in the study, and there it has remained for probably twenty years. But I read it now and then, still, even though the persons to whom it seemed to apply are out of my life.

But then, those persons are really never out of your life, are they?

And my present love wins the medal of this poem, too.



LOVE POEM


My clumsiest dear, whose hands shipwreck vases,
At whose quick touch all glasses chip and ring,
Whose palms are bulls in china, burrs in linen,
And have no cunning with any soft thing.

Except all ill at ease fidgeting people:
The refugee uncertain at the door
You make at home; deftly you steady
The drunk clambering on his undulant floor.

Unpredictable dear, the taxi drivers' terror
Shrinking from far headlights pale as a dime
Yet leaping before red apoplectic streetcars--
Misfit in any space. And never on time.

A wrench in clocks and the solar system. Only
With words and people and love you move at ease,
In traffic of wit expertly manoeuvre
And keep us, all devotion, at your knees.

Forgetting your coffee spreading on our flannel,
Your lipstick grinning on our coat,
So gayly in love's unbreakable heaven
Our souls on glory of spilt bourbon float.

Be with me darling early and late. Smash glasses--
I will study wry music for your sake.
For should your hands drop white and empty
All the toys of the world would break.


--John Frederick Nims



http://www.poets.org/poet.php/prmPID/687




--Z

Listening to Doreen and Clay on the music post, My Favorite Things

This is what came to mind as one of my most favorite love songs


She's got everything she needs,
She's an artist, she don't look back.
She's got everything she needs,
She's an artist, she don't look back.
She can take the dark out of the nighttime
And paint the daytime black.

You will start out standing
Proud to steal her anything she sees.
You will start out standing
Proud to steal her anything she sees.
But you will wind up peeking through her keyhole
Down upon your knees.

She never stumbles,
She's got no place to fall.
She never stumbles,
She's got no place to fall.
She's nobody's child,
The Law can't touch her at all.

She wears an Egyptian ring
That sparkles before she speaks.
She wears an Egyptian ring
That sparkles before she speaks.
She's a hypnotist collector,
You are a walking antique.

Bow down to her on Sunday,
Salute her when her birthday comes.
Bow down to her on Sunday,
Salute her when her birthday comes.
For Halloween give her a trumpet
And for Christmas, buy her a drum.

ten years ago
i had a fling with a 20 year old babe
from cincinatti
half paleface
damn her to crazy hell
she tore my heart out
when she turned 21
said she was gonna put on her best ho dress,
go to ybor city and pick out the best guy in the place

which she did
threw me away from a last titty squeeze

later i sent a letter of reference to a hospital in indian country on her behalf
she got hired and went there
a nurse, married an indian and had a papoose
i still have her parting gift
a little music box
she had put a little card in it that read
"someday all you will remember of me is my butt"

she had a red rash in her ass
i didnot fuck her