for Joel Frye
whose bear roar will n'ere be diminished,
for one who has the good sense to laugh at himself,
is destined to live in the permanency of the place where memories smile and our
hearts store our affection unlimited,
for this earth, better for him
Deities and Muses!
you are herby responsible to guarantee this quality will never be lost from him and his residence, his near and dear, or else!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
in my mind a thorny paw
is irritating my most private
mirror-revealed thoughts,
asking me to fulfill obligations
oft have I writ of our chosen crew,
daily do we cement bonds,
with winks and nods and
meet away from the
glare of likes and reads
we exchanges vows
with stronger than the strongest words
for
there in not a single letter,
A's, B's or
even C's
that give us pause, no terror,
we bend them to our will
Betterdays wrote:
"i am a word written down.. any word, any word.
i am undeniable, desirable often incomplete
always open always waiting
for some one.........just like you ...
to open your heart let me in
to recognize a new start
to have a play, a scribble,
doodle, pen jive. to become
alive.... to thrive, just begin with a single letter.....then another,
go on be brave.............grant me liberty......"
the alphabet,
is the grantor of freedom,
for the component integers,
sum of the words
is greater than any all of us...
your words, her words, my words,
all of the crew's speak spokes
a language common but peculiar,
we transpose and borrow,
transgress and combinate,
all the better for interaction
that allows the *******
to the places we want revealed,
indirectly, we shine the light on our
recesses and are unafraid for it,
indeed we are better for it...
these poems are the streams and
wellsprings you know well,
lay your body upon these verbal waters
and float forever, though deep,
they are the fluids of your soul,
permanent poetic nourishment
and your claim upon them
all the greater for having three years plus,
added to and lived their pleasures...
for did you yourself not write your place is where
"The ocean's pulse, the ebb and flow
of constant waves' re-nourishment
bespeaks to me of life, although
an undercurrent message sent
in whispered sighs of Gaia's breath
upon the shoreline where I sit
relates a tale of bounteous wealth;
the wind, the rain - that we exist
at all is purely by the grace
of Nature's cycles. Also heard,
a gentle, soft, disturbing voice
reminding me without a word:
when we have come and we have gone
the ocean's pulse continues on"
perhaps you forgot!
you are part and parcel
of that ocean's pulse,
waves of letters forming and reformed,
your simple words above
re-nourishing me constant and even,
perhaps,
*their author?