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American solar eclipse
         moonlight on her lips
                   green flash as it dips ...


                               traces
Corpses for...

                      If any question why we died,
                 Tell them, because our fathers lied.

                                       -Kipling

Drones fall like broken promises upon
The burning decks while errant missiles fly
From sea to murky sea keeping the peace
Of headless bodies bobbing in the surf

Our leaders’ wars are yeah-boy video games
(With single-malt) across a shiny screen
But workers’ wars are blood and dirt and death
And “Thank you for your service” (now go away)

The good die young, so do the bad, but not
The sons and daughters of our nomenklatura
Your ‘umble scrivener’s site is:
Reactionarydrivel.blogspot.com
It’s not at all reactionary, tho’ it might be drivel.
Lawrence Hall’s vanity publications are available on amazon.com as Kindle and on bits of dead tree:  THE ROAD TO MAGDALENA, PALEO-HIPPIES AT WORK AND PLAY, LADY WITH A DEAD TURTLE, DON’T FORGET YOUR SHOES AND GRAPES, COFFEE AND A DEAD ALLIGATOR TO GO, and DISPATCHES FROM THE COLONIAL OFFICE.
Brick by brick
I'm building a new foundation
In weakness and strength
I hide in fear of some of God's creation
but there are just somethings
That need to be admired
The tree's, The rivers and open oceans
The mountains that stand tall over us
But most of all I admire you

I'm hanging on every word you say
(ooh) Speechless
Hopelessly lost within your words
(So) breathless
I can't even say a word
She's everything a man dreams of
Her voice is sweet, honest and true
Oh, girl, I'm amazed by you

Struck with a new sensation
Brick by brick
I'm completing a new foundation
I'm starting to learn
She can be my medication
She makes everything better
With her dedication
Her kiss, Kiss
Has got me (Blushing)
It starts my blood (rushing)
Her sweet, Sweet taste
Has created a new flavour
She's making me feel
A little bit braver
I can try, But I know I can't win
She already has my heart
Caught in a string

I'm hanging on every word you say
(ooh) Speechless
Hopelessly lost within your words
(So) breathless
I can't even say a word
She's everything a man dreams of
Her voice is sweet, honest and true
Oh, girl, I'm amazed by you

If I could give you the stars (I would)
It's heaven on earth
When I'm with you
I feel there's nothing that I can not do.
You're so amazing, girl.
I can feel my heart racing,
the fires of love are blazing
She's a princess
that leaves me speechless
Caught up
And hung up on you
I'm trapped, in a web,
I can't break loose

I'm hanging on every word you say
(ooh) Speechless
Hopelessly lost within your words
(So) breathless
I can't even say a word
She's everything a man dreams of
Her voice is sweet, honest and true
Oh, girl, I'm amazed by you

©2017 Written By Benji James
 Jul 2019 Busbar Dancer
juno
thank you.

thank you so much.

i agree.

you should block me.

:)
 Jul 2019 Busbar Dancer
Wk kortas
There is no question of her cycling up the hill;
She has no upscale concoction
Of carbon-fiber frame and painstakingly engineered gear-ratios.
Her bike is a single-speed Schwinn
Of as uncertain vintage
As the woman herself,
And she walks it,
An occasional spoke missing,
The paint chipped here and there,
Up where she once climbed
In a ’54 Chrysler convertible
Next to the man
She later visited at the TB sanitorium
Which once sat at the top of the street,
Two sons giggling and bickering
In the back seat
(The boys long since gone,
Having fled the snow and the downsizing
For other climes)
But now she peddles her bike
Around Massey and State Streets for a bit
Before she coasts back downhill,
And sometimes drivers glare
At her (she is, to be fair
Something of an impediment to traffic)
And carfuls of kids or soldiers in convoys
Headed up to Fort Drum
Will heckle her--Hey, lady!
The Tour De France was last month
!
She no longer has any interest in
The stares or commentary;
She is focused on the bottom of the hill.
To enjoy the past without the need
Of moving there with trunk and suitcase.
To recall any tragic times gone by
Without the gasping tears of sorrow.
To relive the many precious moments
But not put up a tent and stay there.
To fight the long ago won battles
Once again without the hate and malice.
To revel in the youth and vigor
Of another long gone time and day,
But only stop by for a visit there,
To spend a pleasant while and leave.
To travel back to now and be content.
Remembering the purple velvet petaled pansies,
And the roses in the silver moonlight,
But then go out and water the petunias of today.

ljm
A lot of petunias in my world lately.
Can’t you feel it?
The change?
The light is different?
Less intense
The air is getting cooler
Calming breezes
The season is upon us

Crisp nights
Colors coming
Reds, yellows, oranges and golds
Trees showing their best
Apples abound
Smells of cider and cinnamon
The season is upon us

Sweaters in stores
Fall coats
Warm socks
Blankets
The season is upon us

Hot chocolate
Soups
Apple pie
Bright colors
Hypnotic scents
The season is upon us
 Sep 2018 Busbar Dancer
Nonah
It
 Sep 2018 Busbar Dancer
Nonah
It
It keeps me awake
then
It keeps me asleep

It seeps like well water
as
Virginia vines may creep

It is who I am
yet
Not at all

I am defined by it
though
I am in control
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