The good and the bad
and the chance riff
l-rod once asked if we save
and i saved not
lord, i saved not
The insane and the lyrical
and the fallen arch
files come and files go
to laugh or to cry
to hit one's head
or to say goodbye
to a year's work
poems, treatises and glory
The absurd and the predictable
and the dead hard disk
the wagging finger of fate
to zen or to cling
to walk the sands of chaos
or to zip up in a 'featherbed'
today's jam
is tomorrow's trash
judih
ode to a wordless brain
-
Doreen Peri
- Site Admin
- Posts: 14539
- Joined: July 10th, 2004, 3:30 pm
- Location: Virginia
- Contact:
whoa!
did you lose the glow
of words to an electronic nether?
did they go
like a depleted stash,
crashed ones and zeros?
oh no!
i have lost more words
than i can count!
i have aborted my own verses
like fetuses, some have
grown and left home
never to be seen again,
others have died an early death
by the hand of electronic fate,
zapped, murdered, against
protest, without remorse!
i understand this plight.
each of my lost words
haunts me at night!
did you lose the glow
of words to an electronic nether?
did they go
like a depleted stash,
crashed ones and zeros?
oh no!
i have lost more words
than i can count!
i have aborted my own verses
like fetuses, some have
grown and left home
never to be seen again,
others have died an early death
by the hand of electronic fate,
zapped, murdered, against
protest, without remorse!
i understand this plight.
each of my lost words
haunts me at night!
ora - bindi...make mine hindi
twas India I read with your
eyes lookin' down on me
across saharan deserts and
raging atlantis seas....yo!
like they say it on the streets
here in b-moreville do they shine
eyes that hold eternities smile
lookin' down on me...O India...
beware the red plague and the
language of charade...the hostel
that mahatma paid the way for
lord buckley to tell...those hip
thoughts that do speak as he spun
the white material that was worn...
no sheep was shorn....no cabenza
de vaca tootin' his horn...with 7 hundred
and 77 crocodiles nippin' at his heels...
as old ikkyu said, "you will find me at a
sushi house drinkin' sake or in a brothel
or perhaps in lady mori's arms ...suckin down
all her charms....then spending the lonely
night in the canyon ...listening to the wind!"..........wired
twas India I read with your
eyes lookin' down on me
across saharan deserts and
raging atlantis seas....yo!
like they say it on the streets
here in b-moreville do they shine
eyes that hold eternities smile
lookin' down on me...O India...
beware the red plague and the
language of charade...the hostel
that mahatma paid the way for
lord buckley to tell...those hip
thoughts that do speak as he spun
the white material that was worn...
no sheep was shorn....no cabenza
de vaca tootin' his horn...with 7 hundred
and 77 crocodiles nippin' at his heels...
as old ikkyu said, "you will find me at a
sushi house drinkin' sake or in a brothel
or perhaps in lady mori's arms ...suckin down
all her charms....then spending the lonely
night in the canyon ...listening to the wind!"..........wired
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