one more try

[stilltrucking]

I call you creative soul
cause I can't remember your
name at my age I have no need for no one woman anymore
I want them all

our fast reproductive skills
and our gas guzzling brains
were good survival skills a long time ago
I don't need a pickle
I need an evolutionary dietician

I used to be a smart
I used to have teeth
I used to be circumcised

[stilltrucking]

Every woman must have a name I suppose
Her name Rose of Agudas Achiem

the internet such a spooky place these days
I must protect the innocent

well her name was rose
and my hands were lightly wrapped around her neck just firm enough to feel the pulse in her carotid artery
and I was froze right there, I could not tighten my grip anymore
it was the expression on her face that stopped me
no fear, only deep sorrow
all she ever wanted for me was to be grateful to be born and I am
grateful to be born
Resurection or reincarnation
however it came to me
this body is a gift from my parents
from the rose of agudas achiem
and crazy mike the stone cold atheist jew
who was my father
yep
women should see right through me
call me "Mr Cellophane"

spooky feeling never having children
a tumbling tumble weed in the chain of life
all I know is other peoples children
and that it cool enough
just call me "Unk"

I'll call jana
I think I will remember now

[tarbaby]

"her name was only money"
and it is my fault I gave her a thousand dollars to see a dentist.
I say to her with absolutely no guile , "your absolutely right, it is a a 100% my fault. '

She asked me if it was sarcasm, I knew her daddy well, he had streak of sarcasm a mile wide. I don't due it much anymore. except with God now and then.

I ride the ego trip
of joy and sorrow
and life goes on

[silent woman]

must take at least two people to create a language
Now—
If I could only get stilltrucking to shut up lord knows I have tried.
life would be a dream
my homeboy even wrote a song for him
"shut up still trucking I am bored with your blues"

[creativesoul]

Call me jana - call me banana - but do call me- ma Beasley ( no- no - she almost killed herself with the Cajun drummer)
Ms bianchi
That was something of a fantastic unreal fairy tale love which upon closer inspection- I was a young American in Europe
- Italy
He was a “ big man “ in Nigeria
Italian
I learned the language
I wore the clothes
I had another in law with 7 sisters
One was a nun
She would ring my doorbell at 7 in the morning to give me a candy bar
Trust me
I could not do that again

But I was really lonely and stupid

Try Mine
One more time
I met the golden Adonis surfer with a great sense of humor
I was a gonner
I just loved him
He was funny
Anyway
Love is worth it

[silent woman]

call me a fool
I found true love
and walked away from it.
and then years later I did it again

Now I don't know what true love is anymore.
Maybe it's the love of a brother for his sister?
I that is the truest love I know.

thanks for visiting me in the asylum jana
Thanks for writing
I like reading your poetry.

I like her poetry too

He loved three things, alive:
white peacocks, songs at eve,
and antique maps of America.
Hated when children cried,
and raspberry jam with tea,
and feminine hysteria.
…and he had married me.
Anna Akhmatova

altman-akhmatova.jpg (53.86 KiB) Viewed 8020 times

https://www.spectator.co.uk/2005/07/a-t ... sian-icon/

[Unk]

flies in the kitchen
lawn needs mowing
and I sit here and type
the road to hell is paved with keystrokes

[creativesoul]

I think that love is a small quiet place inside
Where all my lives have visited
Left to remember the sweet little thing
That they did
This secret place is all mine
Will make me smile again

It is here
I do not have to pretend
To be what you want or need
I can love my little life
Love is not a visitor- a guest- or person of interest
Love is a state of mind
In some cases we are struck stupid as if by lightening
But remain forever changed from the charge

[stilltrucking]

these days I hardly ever think of love.
love is something that I feel every day the sun shines on my face, and the stars look down on me with tender indifference.

[silent woman]

But God was nowhere, nowhere to be found

So man made an image and he gave it a name
But this man-made god brought nothing but pain
Man started shouting "God! Where can you be?"
"I'm right here man, inside of thee."

Oh, man was so shocked, he was really surprised
'Cuz he looked everywhere, but right there inside
Now when man found God, man found love
And man found out what we all are made of

God is in you and God is in me
To love all of God is to love humanity
God is in you and God is in me
To love all of God is to love humanity. "—
Sonny Terry & Brownie McGhee God and man Lyrics

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cpadlJr0nTo


I thank G d for the music

[creativesoul]

Way cool

[stilltrucking]

thank you for reading

[tinkerjack]

Ted_Hughes_Birthday_Letters_Apprehensions_Shaeffer.JPG (36.59 KiB) Viewed 7924 times

Image source

“The poets? The poets lie too much,” Nietzsche said. Since 1959, however, there have been a number of American poets determined not to lie in verse. Whatever the cost in public exposure or private anguish, their subjects are most often themselves and always the things they most intimately know. The emotions that they portray are true to their own feelings. And the opinions they express are born of deep personal conviction, not currency of literary fashion. These poets have been called “confessional.” (Philips The Confessional Poets 1)
Cultural anxieties: the mother as palimpsest

[silent woman]

to remember love

note to self

never too late

like the first breath of a baby
or sunshine feeding daises [jprine]

Baby, you're a chocolate cookie and you bring out the boogie in me
Baby you take me back to 19 and 43

[Brownie McGhee & Sonny Terry - You Bring Out The Boogie In Me]Lyrics | MetroLyrics