I am tripping more than you are. Battling razzberries

[SadLuckDame]

I've liked the blank feeling lately
when my mind goes oom
just as if it were a small crocus blossom
lifting in the snow...

it seems as a silent conversation
and we're merely making eye contact
and my bosom close-by me going
beat, beat


anticipation

I, in my anticipating.

You gave me a postcard
and I love the emotion escaping from it...

like we are nude.

[the mingo]

i pass to you
the scent of pine trees
before the rain

[SadLuckDame]

You are tree.

[the mingo]

I once walked up this hillside where these big maples grew. I don't know why I did this but I stopped and turned around to face the wind that was moving that day. Then I didn't move. For over two hours I stood there not moving. I wanted to see what it would be like on that hillside if i were a tree. After awhile I put my arms out as if they were branches and stayed like that for awhile too. When I finally walked off that hillside the thing that went with me was the not moving. The being rooted to a spot, not able to turn away from anything, having to face it all. All the time. It was a revelation of sorts.

Ya know, the sea is awesome, but the forest, any forest, is sublime. I like forests. I like being out in them. I like walking in them. I like sleeping in them. I like waking up in them.

I don't know if trees talk but they certainly have a language. Worlds within worlds in a forest. There is always countless things going on all at once in every square inch.

Trees know earth and sunlight and rain and wind. A forest is intimate on a very deep level. I mean, when trees die they don't "go" anywhere. They fall into the forest and remain an active part of it. Every particle and molecule of them gets lifted up once again to be part of the moss and fern & tree & not metaphorically, but for real.

Mornin', Annie B.

[SadLuckDame]

Good morning, mingo
mingling with me in the forest. ppp

[the mingo]

[SadLuckDame]

[the mingo]

ok - i'm takin' a limb here and guessin' for a dove - and if I'm wrong, well, I didn't do so hot in chess tonight either. Nite, Doll.

[SadLuckDame]

I really wanna play chess.

[the mingo]

if you are up for a game we can set one up here. I know you have mentioned it before but I don't think it ever got settled in my mind if you actually played or not.
if you do we can do it here with algebraic notation. But have to start tomorrow because I'm calling it a day for myself. Let me know. Catch ya tomorrow.

[SadLuckDame]

Yes, I need to sleeps, too.
I don't know how to play though, do I need to know how before I begin?
All I knows if pawns can move anywhere at a diagonal.

It would help me to be involved again, I'm pretty distant with myself right now.
I'll read up a little on the rules tomorrow, but usually in cards, etc.
I'm better at figuring it out as I go.

[the mingo]

yeah I've felt that - I mean distance. Just tellin' Jack it's quiet here today, no wind, overcast sky but I don't smell rain. Just wanna throw a grenade out onto the lawn. God bless the boom. So yeah you do need to know how the pieces move. read up on it and when you're ready I'll be here. So quiet I can hear my heart in my ears. Yeah, I need a BOOM!

[SadLuckDame]

I read up on it, played a try game and don't think it made a bit of sense to me.
Nothing at all likes holding aces in my hand. I don't knows, mingo. I'm kinda loopy about it. I need a big boom, too. Me and you both.

[the mingo]

asked for a boom and got rain. no thunder - just rain. began a poem about rain early this mornin' and i should have left it at that but the words just would not let the thing be and off we went hell's bells over hill and dale sheesh and i can't even tell ya 'bout it. it's just too crazy like a bird on the tip end of a branch causing the branch to bob. Too much.

Doll it's raining dog city out there. dog city i tell ya. o sundown is natural - put it beneath your tongue.
o samurai gum!

the rain is like a fence too high to cross today.

[SadLuckDame]

It has cooled all down, but we had thunder and lightening.
I don't knows what it is anymore, only though my contributions are not making the situation any betters. I'm giving a go at not being too heavy.
Tongue tied and see what happens.

Where is your rain poem, mingo?
I'd like to look in at it.