I am tripping more than you are. Battling razzberries

[still.trucking]

I always liked that song.

Spooky

Santana, Classics IV

In the cool of the evening
when ev'rything is gettin' kind of groovy,
I call you up and ask you if you want to go
and meet and see a movie.

First you say no, you've got some plans for the night,
And then you stop, and say, "All right."
Love is kinda crazy with a spooky little girl like you.

You always keep me guessin', I never seem to know
what you are thinkin'.
And if a fella looks at you, it's for sure
your little eye will be a-winkin'.

I get confused, 'cause I don't know where I stand,
And then you smile, and hold my hand.
Love is kinda crazy
with a spooky little girl like you. Spooky!

If you decide someday to stop this little game
that you are playin', I'm gonna tell you all what my heart's been a-dyin' to be sayin'.
Just like a ghost,
you've been a-hauntin' my dreams,
So I'll propose... on Halloween.
Love is kinda crazy
with a spooky little girl like you.
Spooky, Spooky, Spooky, Oh-whoa, all right,
I said Spooky!

[SadLuckDame]

I'd never heard it before. Gonna youtube it.
That poem is a snapshot. I love it because it's the best picture of the usedman (catfish) I have. I pinned him down good in that one. Whenever I read it he jumps alive to me. That was him and the dame when it all began.

[SadLuckDame]

To be Diverted

He's but kept her quite severely alone.
Look how angry she sleeps!
a grip on her dressing
offering the night a temper
during its abundant range of howls.

The snow plowed towards her
with long fingers of frozen white
trying to go the length of her neck
and chilling her slight frame.
Her nightmares reaching
due to weather.

He'd made a splendid suggestion--
why not he visit her on tip toes
a whiskey after-wards to enhance
such occasion.

He readily available
and they tied by fate's
humorous gesture;
it surely a preservative.

She'd been tenderly beside him
devoted in prayer, over articles
and silence.
There were none other,
none with claim on magic.

It an attractive situation
to be audience of
I'd persisted in watching
intimacy without the hassle
of true involvement.

He'd go to her softly
an irresistible urge
to speak quietly in her ear
as an Ariel--
he'd frighten her awake
clinging and taking such liberties
in his arms from the fear.

"I'd have her altogether this way
a pill on an eve that I'd like nothing more
than a lady's distraction."

Shrugging into his thick black coat
he entered the climate
the bottom edge of his jacket
trailed the snowy streets.

He'd nothing else to go to sleep on
but the familiarity of her manner.

[SadLuckDame]

"Death is inevitable. I can't stop to attempt preventing it. No, I must go indoors. I must repair, repair, and repair, so that I'll be ready when it claims me; in whatever fashion it does.
It'll be at my windows
it'll examine mine heart
and those within.

It'll cruelly rip them from my clutches and show how they were but smoke, but illusion, only mere creation. It'll put me on the stair, walk step by step to push forth emotion, to trigger my loves, and could I love enough or well? Could I retreat and resist the darkness long enough to love well?

My loves, my son and daughter and I know how much allusion you are, but I can't stop holding you. I can't stop pushing back your bangs to see your beautiful little souls and I can't stop my mothering and how you're mine, but not so much at the end of it.
Today you are my little hearts
I'll regrettably watch flash off with less importance of how much I liked to look at you.
Today I'm still repairing and preparing.
Patience to learn the meaning of this going to light, going to lose the forms, to lose the solidity, trying to become friends with your souls and I'll know you later this way.

When I'm gone and you're here, be knowing that I'm still there softly. I'm preparing for it and I'll not let the darkness have my lights. I'll not let it stir me now, or for long when it does. Lay me in the ground and know that it's not much you're laying down. See you after-words."

[Doreen Peri]

OK.. where are you going? Get back here, you!

lol

I read something on here I wanted to reply to yesterday and now I can't find it. I'm lost on the internet super highway.

It was something about your boss saying nasty things about people. I just wanted to say I can identify with that. The company I work for has gone from 50 people to a staff of 12 in the past 2 years. Hard economic times. Some were fired or let go because of a reduction of staff. Others quit because our pay was coming in late. How I still have a job with them is beyond me. I guess they like me?

Anyway... every time we have a staff meeting, the boss badmouths people who aren't there... the ones who aren't with the company any more. She blames everything that's gone wrong on them. It is very troubling to me.

When it's my turn to be let go (and that could happen any time), I can't imagine the crap she'll say about me when I'm not in the room.

Of course, it doesn't really matter... I'm just making a point... some people blame others and don't take responsibility. Some people talk behind other people's back. It's just something I very much dislike.

[SadLuckDame]

Aww Doreen, I'm hoping no where soon, though we never know I s'pose. Anyway, I was on this train of thought after reading in lit by P.D. Ouspensky, that sweetwater posted up. I was fortunate enough to experience my own 'sudden death, sudden life' one eve and it intertwined similarly. Then I thought of my children, as my son was my last thought then. It all came back as it often does.

Yes, the boss lady is fantastic with her gossip, a little sneaky whisper in our ears here and there. We'll be sure to be next. Already have been, for she'd mentioned me within ear shot of my daughter, whom came to me in tears over the episode. But I told my darling daughter how much karma had just bitten, because I'd spent an entire week venting over this boss lady previously. So, I was rather deserving, lol.

It can be a cycle, all involved, all goes round and round the merry go round. I know just what you mean. What an experience the work experience is. Quite unattractive, though we must be willing. Must bring home the meat, I'm often hungry.

Doreen, I'm awaiting the day you pop on here and say you've given up the work place to be at home with your paintings. I look forward to it and the beauty that comes out of it with you.

[SadLuckDame]

God has made me laugh

I'd make a try at keeping you near
nearly like the mossed forest floor
when I go down upon it
dig my knees into it's fleshy green
pushing onto the bone
the raw rock
sorely a creature of wild
for I'd robbed your rib
I'd stretched my hand
across where.

I've but an Eve's sorrow
and hear Sarah's laughter.
Fill me with babies
they'll grow to be strong killing boys
and my daughter will cry next to me.

[SadLuckDame]

Girls with Brothers

She painted box turtles
on the bottom shell
red, blue and blacks
to identify them.

Her mother smiled
and let her release them
in the strawberry patch.

Summer came hot
and burned the bottom
of her feet on dirty roads.
There on the dust lay
dead dried up turtle bodies.

She went home in tears
and to her mother's arms
with their broken, painted shells.
Her mother said,
"Your brother went out bored
awhile ago."

[SadLuckDame]

And now I gots to go.

[mousey1]

Girls with brothers. Ain't it so.

That one made me sad. A shocking end to peaceful pretty.

Brothers. What a penis will make you do!!!

Just dropped by, reading some. I wade here and there. You are a good writer.

[SadLuckDame]

Hello my mousey friend, we've a party underway with you and I. I'll grab the dry wine, but I've sweeter if you'd prefer...
cheers to your visiting on a winter's eve, it's good to see you, have missed your presence. You remind me of a friend on another board with a similar smile and personality.

We'll drink to friendship, turtles and sisters, we'll smoke cigars and tell stories of brothers. A girl will go out to make beautiful, and a boy will dirty it up behind, I s'pose, what I had in mind was

little girls are made of sugar and spice,
everything nice.

Boys are puppy dog tails,
frog legs, crushed bugs and snails.
Or something like that.

It was a true story, all except I don't have brothers, they were neighborhood boys. My neighborhood meant boys hunting, deer hung upside down with slit throats, squirrels skinned on clothes lines, turtles on the road.
And the girls played with doll-babies. Strange differences, but we somehow work it out.

Smiles from me...

[stilltrucking]

Leonard Cohen writes such impeccable lyrics
He can write about the spirit with out gender.

"If It Be Your Will"

If it be your will
That I speak no more
And my voice be still
As it was before
I will speak no more
I shall abide until
I am spoken for
If it be your will
If it be your will
That a voice be true
From this broken hill
I will sing to you
From this broken hill
All your praises they shall ring
If it be your will
To let me sing
From this broken hill
All your praises they shall ring
If it be your will
To let me sing

If it be your will
If there is a choice
Let the rivers fill
Let the hills rejoice
Let your mercy spill
On all these burning hearts in hell
If it be your will
To make us well

And draw us near
And bind us tight
All your children here
In their rags of light
In our rags of light
All dressed to kill
And end this night
If it be your will

If it be your will.

I had a woman boss who would let her male employees slide on everything, she would give all the nasty jobs to the women. She was a total bitch to women. But she was all smiles with us guys.



"What is the perfect man?"
"An oxymoron"

[Artguy]

Oh to live in the tower of song....

[SadLuckDame]

I really likes it Jack, thanks for sharing the lyrics, they're beautiful.

I've been in such a spiritual struggle lately, after the atheist comment I'd made, and other things. To battle myself, I'm in such a battle, between my childhood, and the fears and my heart wanting to be a gentle heart, a kind heart. When we talk spirit there's so much crazy stuff in my head and how I was raised, I withhold nearly everything, I fear it, I become the scared little child and I want to curl up till it all goes away.

Growing up Pentecostal. I should write a book on it. What they put in a child's head, a lot of fears, tons of it. If God is unhappy with me he'll burn me up right on the spot. I don't know how to say this stuff I keep in. I don't want to be burnt up to a crisp, but I don't want to instill my fears in anyone, not at all, so it leaves me in such a strange spot I've no inner preparation for.

They taught me everyone's going to burn up, no ones safe, only the children and perfect people, since no one's perfect then only children are safe. I don't even know what to tell non-believers, I refuse to put what freaked me out on their shoulders cause I live with the side-effects of it, and sometimes I just want to go out screaming like a lunatic, "I have to tell you about God or else I'll burn up right here on the spot! Let me tell you not to save you, but to save me! If I don't I might die in a horrible way."

I'm so helpless or selfish.
I've never saved anyone. I'm boogled down with strange things, demons are in people's eyes, leap from trees, hide in doorways. Angels spook them away.

And I grew up with nothing too much to pass on other than just trying to be gentle, more a woman's heart is to be gentle, and I try to forget the fears, but I'm scared lately with these talks, cause it surfaces a lot of fears I've had since I could run from the demons lurking behind me, around me...the devil on my scent, God too might burn me up, and I'm full of paranoia.

That's a good reason why I shouldn't talk much about it.
It won't win friends, it wouldn't be anyone's encouragement and I'll look more crazy as I am, plus especially I don't won't to do what was done to me. I've got too much harshness put into me, I scare myself.

To add another layer to other conversation, I guess I forgive the beatings mostly cause I deal with an idea that he got the belt out for the same types of fears, if he didn't beat every demon in me as a child, he might too burn on the spot, he may of been afraid of that. I've a lot of messes to clean up from childhood, too many, too much work and most I can't face or understand.

You're not gonna wanna know this stuff. You're not going to want to know what is buried deep in me.

It's not soft, not sweet or kind. Only thing of that sort I've got to lean on was letters my nana sent to me when she'd write I've a friend in Jesus. They were the only beautiful spiritual pieces of my life, the only saving and comforting. I've nothing else, it's my only beauty spiritually. My apologies.

[silent woman]

I was born one of the chosen few
I was spared those demons
Only heard them as old wives tales
and in Short Stories by I.B.Singer.

Sometimes I likes to drink a little whiskey
and looks the jackofnightmares in the eyes

We are onions
To add another layer of complexity
It was jitterbug who taught me how to stop her from the beatings.