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AAron Roz May 2018
Music is loud or quiet.
Music is soft or heavy.
Music can have meaning or not.
Music can be nothing or everything.
Music is:
◾Art Punk
◾Alternative Rock
◾College Rock
◾Crossover Thrash (thx Kevin G)
◾Crust Punk (thx Haug)
◾Experimental Rock
◾Folk Punk
◾Goth / Gothic Rock
◾Grunge
◾******* Punk
◾Hard Rock
◾Indie Rock
◾Lo-fi (hat tip to Ben Vee Bedlamite)
◾New Wave
◾Progressive Rock
◾Punk
◾Shoegaze (with thx to Jackie Herrera)
◾Steampunk (with thx to Christopher Schaeffer)

•Anime
•Blues ◾Acoustic Blues
◾Chicago Blues
◾Classic Blues
◾Contemporary Blues
◾Country Blues
◾Delta Blues
◾Electric Blues
◾Ragtime Blues (cheers GFS)

•Children’s Music ◾Lullabies
◾Sing-Along
◾Stories

•Classical ◾Avant-Garde
◾Baroque
◾Chamber Music
◾Chant
◾Choral
◾Classical Crossover
◾Contemporary Classical (thx Julien Palliere)
◾Early Music
◾Expressionist (thx Mr. Palliere)
◾High Classical
◾Impressionist
◾Medieval
◾Minimalism
◾Modern Composition
◾Opera
◾Orchestral
◾Renaissance
◾Romantic (early period)
◾Romantic (later period)
◾Wedding Music

•Comedy ◾Novelty
◾Standup Comedy
◾Vaudeville (cheers Ben Vee Bedlamite)

•Commercial (thank you Sheldon Reynolds) ◾Jingles
◾TV Themes

•Country ◾Alternative Country
◾Americana
◾Bluegrass
◾Contemporary Bluegrass
◾Contemporary Country
◾Country Gospel
◾Country Pop (thanks Sarah Johnson)
◾***** Tonk
◾Outlaw Country
◾Traditional Bluegrass
◾Traditional Country
◾Urban Cowboy

•Dance (EDM – Electronic Dance Music – see Electronic below – with thx to Eric Shaffer-Whiting & Drew :-)) ◾Club / Club Dance (thx Luke Allfree)
◾Breakcore
◾Breakbeat / Breakstep
◾Brostep (cheers Tom Berckley)
◾Chillstep (thx Matt)
◾Deep House (cheers Venus Pang)
◾Dubstep
◾Electro House (thx Luke Allfree)
◾Electroswing
◾Exercise
◾Future Garage (thx Ran’dom Haug)
◾Garage
◾Glitch Hop (cheers Tom Berckley)
◾Glitch Pop (thx Ran’dom Haug)
◾Grime (thx Ran’dom Haug / Matthew H)
◾*******
◾Hard Dance
◾Hi-NRG / Eurodance
◾Horrorcore (thx Matt)
◾House
◾Jackin House (with thx to Jermaine Benjamin Dale Bruce)
◾Jungle / Drum’n’bass
◾Liquid Dub(thx Ran’dom Haug)
◾Regstep (thanks to ‘Melia G)
◾Speedcore (cheers Matt)
◾Techno
◾Trance
◾Trap (thx Luke Allfree)

•Disney
•Easy Listening ◾Bop
◾Lounge
◾Swing

•Electronic ◾2-Step (thx Ran’dom Haug)
◾8bit – aka 8-bit, Bitpop and Chiptune – (thx Marcel Borchert)
◾Ambient
◾Bassline (thx Leon Oliver)
◾Chillwave(thx Ran’dom Haug)
◾Chiptune (kudos to Dominik Landahl)
◾Crunk (with thx to Jillian Edwards)
◾Downtempo
◾Drum & Bass (thx Luke Allfree)
◾Electro
◾Electro-swing (thank you Daniel Forthofer)
◾Electronica
◾Electronic Rock
◾Hardstyle (kudos to Dominik Landahl)
◾IDM/Experimental
◾Industrial
◾Trip Hop (thank you Michael Tait Tafoya)

•Enka
•French Pop
•German Folk
•German Pop
•Fitness & Workout
•Hip-Hop/Rap ◾Alternative Rap
◾Bounce
◾***** South
◾East Coast Rap
◾Gangsta Rap
◾******* Rap
◾Hip-Hop
◾Latin Rap
◾Old School Rap
◾Rap
◾Turntablism (thank you Luke Allfree)
◾Underground Rap
◾West Coast Rap

•Holiday ◾Chanukah
◾Christmas
◾Christmas: Children’s
◾Christmas: Classic
◾Christmas: Classical
◾Christmas: Comedy
◾Christmas: Jazz
◾Christmas: Modern
◾Christmas: Pop
◾Christmas: R&B
◾Christmas: Religious
◾Christmas: Rock
◾Easter
◾Halloween
◾Holiday: Other
◾Thanksgiving

•Indie Pop
•Industrial
•Inspirational – Christian & Gospel ◾CCM
◾Christian Metal
◾Christian Pop
◾Christian Rap
◾Christian Rock
◾Classic Christian
◾Contemporary Gospel
◾Gospel
◾Christian & Gospel
◾Praise & Worship
◾Qawwali (with thx to Jillian Edwards)
◾Southern Gospel
◾Traditional Gospel

•Instrumental ◾March (Marching Band)

•J-Pop ◾J-Rock
◾J-Synth
◾J-Ska
◾J-Punk

•Jazz ◾Acid Jazz (with thx to Hunter Nelson)
◾Avant-Garde Jazz
◾Bebop (thx Mwinogo1)
◾Big Band
◾Blue Note (with thx to Jillian Edwards)
◾Contemporary Jazz
◾Cool
◾Crossover Jazz
◾Dixieland
◾Ethio-jazz (with thx to Jillian Edwards)
◾Fusion
◾Gypsy Jazz (kudos to Mike Tait Tafoya)
◾Hard Bop
◾Latin Jazz
◾Mainstream Jazz
◾Ragtime
◾Smooth Jazz
◾Trad Jazz

•K-Pop
•Karaoke
•Kayokyoku
•Latin ◾Alternativo & Rock Latino
◾Argentine tango (gracias P. Moth & Sandra Sanders)
◾Baladas y Boleros
◾Bossa Nova (with thx to Marcos José Sant’Anna Magalhães & Alex Ede for the reclassification)
◾Brazilian
◾Contemporary Latin
◾Cumbia (gracias Richard Kemp)
◾Flamenco / Spanish Flamenco (thank you Michael Tait Tafoya & Sandra Sanders)
◾Latin Jazz
◾Nuevo Flamenco (and again Michael Tafoya)
◾Pop Latino
◾Portuguese fado (and again Sandra Sanders)
◾Raíces
◾Reggaeton y Hip-Hop
◾Regional Mexicano
◾Salsa y Tropical

•New Age ◾Environmental
◾Healing
◾Meditation
◾Nature
◾Relaxation
◾Travel

­•Opera
•Pop ◾Adult Contemporary
◾Britpop
◾Bubblegum Pop (thx Haug & John Maher)
◾Chamber Pop (thx Haug)
◾Dance Pop
◾Dream Pop (thx Haug)
◾Electro Pop (thx Haug)
◾Orchestral Pop (thx Haug)
◾Pop/Rock
◾Pop Punk (thx Makenzie)
◾Power Pop (thx Haug)
◾Soft Rock
◾Synthpop (thx Haug)
◾Teen Pop

•R&B/Soul ◾Contemporary R&B
◾Disco (not a top level genre Sheldon Reynolds!)
◾Doo ***
◾Funk
◾Modern Soul (Cheers Nik)
◾Motown
◾Neo-Soul
◾Northern Soul (Cheers Nik & John Maher)
◾Psychedelic Soul (thank you John Maher)
◾Quiet Storm
◾Soul
◾Soul Blues (Cheers Nik)
◾Southern Soul (Cheers Nik)

•Reggae ◾2-Tone (thx GFS)
◾Dancehall
◾Dub
◾Roots Reggae
◾Ska

•Rock ◾Acid Rock (with thanks to Alex Antonio)
◾Adult-Oriented Rock (thanks to John Maher)
◾Afro Punk
◾Adult Alternative
◾Alternative Rock (thx Caleb Browning)
◾American Trad Rock
◾Anatolian Rock
◾Arena Rock
◾Art Rock
◾Blues-Rock
◾British Invasion
◾**** Rock
◾Death Metal / Black Metal
◾Doom Metal (thx Kevin G)
◾Glam Rock
◾Gothic Metal (fits here Sam DeRenzis – thx)
◾Grind Core
◾Hair Metal
◾Hard Rock
◾Math Metal (cheers Kevin)
◾Math Rock (thx Ran’dom Haug)
◾Metal
◾Metal Core (thx Ran’dom Haug)
◾Noise Rock (genre – Japanoise – thx Dominik Landahl)
◾Jam Bands
◾Post Punk (thx Ben Vee Bedlamite)
◾Prog-Rock/Art Rock
◾Progressive Metal (thx Ran’dom Haug)
◾Psychedelic
◾Rock & Roll
◾Rockabilly (it’s here Mark Murdock!)
◾Roots Rock
◾Singer/Songwriter
◾Southern Rock
◾Spazzcore (thx Haug)
◾Stoner Metal (duuuude)
◾Surf
◾Technical Death Metal (cheers Pierre)
◾Tex-Mex
◾Time Lord Rock (Trock) ~ (thanks to ‘Melia G)
◾Trash Metal (thanks to Pierre A)

•Singer/Songwriter ◾Alternative Folk
◾Contemporary Folk
◾Contemporary Singer/Songwriter
◾Indie Folk (with thanks to Andrew Barrett)
◾Folk-Rock
◾Love Song (Chanson – merci Marcel Borchert)
◾New Acoustic
◾Traditional Folk

•Soundtrack ◾Foreign Cinema
◾Movie Soundtrack (thanks Julien)
◾Musicals
◾Original Score
◾Soundtrack
◾TV Soundtrack

•Spoken Word
•Tex-Mex / Tejano (with thx to Israel Lopez) ◾Chicano
◾Classic
◾Conjunto
◾Conjunto Progressive
◾New Mex
◾Tex-Mex

•Vocal ◾A cappella (with kudos to Sheldon Reynolds)
◾Barbershop (with thx to Kelly Chism)
◾Doo-*** (with thx to Bradley Thompson)
◾Gregorian Chant (hat tip to Deborah Knight-Nikifortchuk)
◾Standards
◾Traditional Pop
◾Vocal Jazz
◾Vocal Pop

•World ◾Africa
◾Afro-Beat
◾Afro-Pop
◾Asia
◾Australia
◾Cajun
◾Calypso (thx Gerald John)
◾Caribbean
◾Carnatic (Karnataka Sanghetha – thx Abhijith)
◾Celtic
◾Celtic Folk
◾Contemporary Celtic
◾Coupé-décalé (thx Samy) – Congo
◾Dangdut (thank you Achmad Ivanny)
◾Drinking Songs
◾Drone (with thx to Robert Conrod)
◾Europe
◾France
◾Hawaii
◾Hindustani (thank you Abhijith)
◾Indian Ghazal (thank you Gitika Thakur)
◾Indian Pop
◾Japan
◾Japanese Pop
◾Klezmer
◾Mbalax (thank you Samy) – Senegal
◾Middle East
◾North America
◾Ode (thank you Sheldon Reynolds)
◾Piphat (cheers Samy B) – Thailand
◾Polka
◾Soca (thx Gerald John)
◾South Africa
◾South America
◾Traditional Celtic
◾Worldbeat
◾Zydeco
etc...
Robin Carretti Aug 2018
This is far from a
car S-p-a--C-y
Oh! My? Crossover traveler
The Phyton
Top of the rank
collision-course
New job space
planning tech magic cursor

Magical Podcast*

Do we have space
Sci-Fi-Hi Meeting
Googling creating playing
Cheating Overexaggerating
And faking our
(dead)lines

Not meeting our deadlines
What is the right time?
Spacewalking on the yellow brick
the road you are my sunshine*
"Million light years away from being rich"?

     Lucy in the Sky
       LSD-Little space devil
No/space for Jack the shinning
of diamonds, this isn't Oz
Emerald City or spin-off

Climb the ladder space objects clutter
Posh-Rich Witch is which
The last epidemic standup comic

Crawling having a ball Spalding

That Spiderwomen kvetch
Wolftie face switched
Fox lies moms moon pies
The collision of the moon
Space monkey baboon
The equation or burning
Sun people in devastation

Magic God

What time holds the
Mass control Einstein the professor
The brain exploding stars
Study hall those equations

In Princeton New Jersey
Those tiny particles lost in space
This corporation division
*
Space Between_

*Hard paper scissors and
Mr. Rock

It's time to money pound
The Big Ben clock
"Do we act like the only
one on this planet"                  
The Singularity
The multiplicity
The burning sun
*
War of the Military
Hot fun "Twin City"
Medieval twin planets

She's brace-space and he's
Well known physic
energy flowing one
step beyond collision of '
     Two Gods"

Magic space-lotus love of "Venus_
Pond

The Mall of America Star Spangle Banner
Next International flight became a winner

Plants and animals
The primal magic
Catching the
planets there both
emerging
The submerging eye
Space-out engaging

The civilization nightmare
On the cusp right here
Martian stripe and stars
Wipeout species of mars
Gravitatious collide of lovers
Confused about earthlings
More siblings another planet colliding

Like a space odyssey ground control to
      "Major Tom"
Fe fi fun on space run
Our Earth Mondadori
Spicy pleasure taste for
Chicken Tandoori
Magical dish
Make a wish

Magic hands believing

Metagalactic space and time
Holy God realistic
Osprey someone is the prey
In the movie magical classic
Breakfast at Tiffanys
Holiday mind dressed up window
"Out of our comfort zone
eating to the end twilight zone widow"

The extra enchanted evening
For the Moms only
Our heads over space
heels hit the ceiling

Eggs Benedict, the salt wasn't kosher
Artsy Audrey Hepburn don't push her

Celestial Ocean Space Steven Universe
The Christmas madness sale
Poison Ivy Pointsetta what
a vendetta
Interstellar meeting her
new race feeling out of place
Adulation like a prosecution
Space collide anytime
can explode

Two worlds become tragic
Space station not a game
A haunting catastrophic
Collision Titanic ship

Magically got more modified
Needing a space program the
spy to identify  

Dragonfly to Madame Butterfly
Space of magic crime-space
All spots, not Dalmatian
Space wings set up for Superman
Magic fan rising adrenaline
Monster cookies for Madeline

Fire and Ice Global warming
wildfires now the collision
On another planet warning
Miracle blessing of magic
Someone before or after
just to touch them

We cannot stop this craziness
The outburst goes pop the weasel

Magic place portal
Something in the way
to crumble like a baby
firstborn rocking her cradle

The curiosity space philosophy
Like breed of cats,
Licking tongue envelope
The cats eye Egyptian
Terrified space milk the tabby
Meeting my space hubby

Microscopic became two dots .-.
Space became a new buried plot
Is this all I got Twitter
Home run ball and
New York Dodgers
Brooklyn bat *******

So compelled to the computer
Designed the Rover robot lover
Magical Elton John
wedding
space planner
Across the Universe
John Lennon
Bennie and the Jets
Like a science
Teacher's pets

Eyes spaced out the magic place within**
So sacred magic hat Rabbit
Mountain bear Airspace Hobbit
Roll over Beethoven
The dog bone playing space I tunes

The spaceship magic
fingers piano
Plays one enchanted evening
Let me see the beautiful
new awakening
When Robin sings
Her magical wand
Lights up the world
of hands magical awaits

Remember "A Poem" can be magic
Collison in Space or Good earth how do we collide into one another planet some fire exposed in our words can we change the way we feel we collide again but what happens when our planets collide
aine garcia May 2016
We are a team, That have a dream…
We don’t stop, no not even when we drop.
other teams are lame , cause we got game.

Sprint, pass, shoot, dribble, assist, defense
Thats our life as we thrive. This is our house
And the game is our spouse.

We grieve every loss, cause we hate losing
more than we love winning. But the next game
We go up down, down up back at it with the roundup

We get hungry to get revenge, on the team that
Can’t avenge but we don’t rest til we’re the best.
We’ll be on top one day and they’ll pop.

We steal like thief’s in the night,
We wont lose without a fight,
We have the pace, and we keep up with the race.

There are setbacks, slumps, bumps,
But that only makes us stronger
And it makes us last longer.

We fall as one , rise as one,
That’s what makes us family
Ethan Kreman Oct 2013
What's this what's this there's targets everywhere
What's this what's this there's screaming in the air
I can't believe my eyes, I must be dreaming
Wake up Altair, this isn't fair

What's this..

They're all throwing tomahawks, instead of throwing heads.
They're slitting throats with a blade that's in their wrists now they are dead!
All the people dead, I can't believe my eyes.
I'm so surprised Altair's the only one that had survived...
What's this?
dye Aug 2014
Home
From shelter to smother

Hope
From zero to subzero

Dreams
From ceaseless to evanescent

Feelings
From persistent to transient

Solitude
From instant to rare

Beliefs
From firm to brittle

Judgment
From deep to epidermic

Sobriety
From fascinating to monochromatic

Transitions
From fast to rapid

Life
From tasteful to **insipid
edge moments
10/18/13
CH Gorrie Sep 2013
Lavender parted by blunt wind:
the unkempt morning hair
of a park's running path.
Pale-green grass crawls up everywhere
in tufts like a thousand lost toupées.

In spring
cars, northbound from San Diego,
packed with kids and camping tools
or slimmer businessmen,
get full view of it:
                             a transient glance
between La Jolla and Los Angeles,
a moment of flashing color amid asphalt miles.
Graff1980 Dec 2014
You crossover the cutting board
Quick witted leather fitted
Eyes blasting beautiful rainbows
Muscle rippling with truth
Capes and cowls
Heroes and villains
Smiles and scowls
A league of Avengers
A modern mythology
Patterned after past pantheons
DC to Marvel
The same side of two twisted coins
The same lie that I love to enjoy
Fiction intertwined with philosophy
Violence intertwined with morality
Leaving me with these power fantasies
Of superhero friends and families
You’re on my tv, movie screen
In my comic books, novels,
And even in my dreams
Corvus Apr 2017
Pain.
It's tempting.
Hidden in hearts
That hold onto memories.
Addiction.

Healing.
It's reluctant.
The mind fails
But it always continues.
Affliction.
A double elevenie, which was incredibly difficult to write. http://www.napowrimo.net/day-twenty-three-3/
amt Dec 2012
My mother used to tell me of her dreams of being a figure skater. She made sure to start my brother and I early, so as soon as I could walk, I was on the ice. I wasn't bad... Nothing special, but potential was all I needed. I remember watching the big girls in their pretty, sparkly costumes jump and twist. I remember saying to myself "I wanna be like that." Sunday mornings flew by, each one becoming harder and harder, and soon I was offered a private instructor. At this point my mother had given me the choice to continue. Ten years old and well aware of my strengths and weeknesses, I quit. I wanted to go shopping on Sundays. I wanted to have play dates and eat ice cream. I didn't want to spend it in that freezing cold arena, working on something that I may or may not be good at. So I quit. Gave up.
Occasionally I miss it and go back to that arena. I put on the bright, white 'big girl' skates that I used to look forward to growing into. Doing laps around the rink, I try to recall what I'd once known... Crossover, jump, spin, turn. Not as grand as they used to be...
I see the little girls in the middle, they look about ten. They wear pretty little costumes and shiny white skates as they hop, spin, crossover, jump, effortlessly.
I wonder about where I'd be if I'd continued...
One of the girls falls out of her spin and lays there helplessly on the ice. She looks as if she's going to try again, but her face reads: I want to quit.
She sighs and stands up. I skate over and tap her on the shoulder.
"Don't give up. I promise, you'll regret it."
I hop off of the ice and compare what I could've been to what I am.
Joanna Grace Jan 2014
There are several ways
to cross over to the other side

HUMANS
we spend our existence
disagreeing on what
the other side contains

~FACT~
we all have to go anyway

we all will find out

like an impatient kid
that demands
i want it now
we are too impatient
to wait and see

the universe's ultimate surprise
onlylovepoetry Mar 2019
~for Wendy ~

with my almost two years old poetry advisor,
who loves her Sunday rituals, an extra sabbath,
of waffles and Shrek, kid’s gym and artistic endeavors,
cozying up with Nana and siblings in a big old bed,
snacking and chewing on the good silk sheets

as always, she and and I go off to have an intellectual conversation,
letting the older ones to do kid stuff, while we converse and debate
topics of nature vs. nurture, the weather vs. climate change,
and the future of everything, unbeknownst to everyone else

which is greater, love or honor, she inquires,
sensing my thoughts are preoccupied with matters of honor...
as she strokes my itchy, scratchy day old face,
insuring her having my full attention, while
taking advantage of my loving weakness

grandpa:
honor over everything my opening gambit,
while she coyly harrumphs in response,
one can love without reason for such are
our natural souls programmed,
but honor needs concentration and contemplation,
and if done right,
then love will surely follow!

She-Woman:
ah ha! once again you sidle up to nurture,
cause love is too inexplicable,
old man, old man, did I not love you before
any season of reason crossed my brow,
and my vocabulary consisted of just
more, no, toy and hungry

what did I know of Aristotle, logic, codes of conduct,
the definition of honor yet abstract,
while love is nature’s illogical construct,
coming first without restrictions,
while honor is malleable and
property of the eye of the beholder

grandpa:
wise beyond your tears, you are, and unquestionably correct,
but while coming first, love cannot last,
until cover-coated with honor,
for honor gives us the because, and locks down the why,
honor gives the insight, the rationale, the rules of how to say
yes and no, when love is tendered and an R.S.V.P. is requested

She-Woman:
absent experience, for now will concede,
but be warned this is not over,
fo you have not brought me a definition of what truly honor be

grandpa:
honor is the housing of love, and though you granted me your favor,
comes the day that you will demand proofs that
what was unearthed & unearned
is now earned, a course in credit, a baccalaureate in life’s lanes,
when to heed them, when to crossover, when to say I do, I do,
no to someone else alone, and yes to your honorable self

She-Woman:
adult double speak, I suspect, and you will rue the day
when forced to concede, with a wrenched
‘child, I do not know,’
meanwhile change my diaper
after I karate chop your knee

Grandpa:
yes child, but know,  two of your requests/notifications are
honorable acts and/know real love can be ONLY be exchanged
tween honorable humans
see photo for her  in position preparing to strike

3/3/19 9:45 am
Very often
It is the
Inability
To accept constructive criticism
That will cross a person
Over
From mistaken
To ignorant
Kickin' all the way the Live Coolio
deep in ya Culo/
it's that Boy Yosef comin' with major Flavas/
with so Many Styles more than a Hair Doo Voodoo/
got ya eyes on ya know Who?/
so many ****** wanna Smoke me
Cuz im the New Joint/
puttin' sparks to ya Head ****** Red/
if u thinkin' about Frontin'' Me/
ill make u Crossover like EPMD/
Rap Fanatic since i was Swimmin' in the ******* the Mack Attack/
hittin' all your perspectives
im takin' out all the Primitives/
in the Rap Game Shoot ya Stick
try again my- Flows erected as a ****/
in between ***** *****
so take Chance it ya Want/
Watch the gun taunt
in ya Face  a sad Disgrace/
Slappin' a new taste
in ya Mouth i Dropped it
my Style can't be Competed
you Obsoleted
i'm Makin Profits the Funk Baby!!!!


Many Emcees sweet as a KitKats
so cut the Chit Chat/
cuz im bout to Splatter their careers into pieces
Gotthem Envisionin' Doubles
like Noah i Told ya
the Tru Soldier Rollin' Dogia/
marchin' to the Beat with my Vocal
a Tru Loco/
when i'm sippin E & J **** an Airplay pinin' Indo/
playin' suckas close like who's holdin' the most/
weight? Pushin' rhymes like weights
Loots stay Connected like freight Train Crates/i Dominate from all states
that's why they Call Me All-State/
but ya Ain't in Good Hands
-tryna Step to the Big Man
keep u heated galore like Afghanistan gettin' in that *** like Sand/
so take Stand and a Bow cuz im the Prowl/
for that Number One Slot
ya rhymes loose as Jar Jelly
**** what the critics tell me
"Mr Big Stuff" girls call me "Heavy D"
From then shaft that lays between me
the Funk Baby!!!
70s funk soul poetry real hip hop southern *****
Nat Lipstadt Oct 2013
There is a song, each of has one.
It is that song that you listen to not once, not twice,
but over and over again.
This song I loved, and put it aside, 'lost' it,
and this afternoon, on a drive to Monterey a year ago,
it found me again.
Below are the words.
Find a video of Richie Havens (see the notes) singing it.
It is a song that you will listen to not once, not twice,
but over and over again, for when he cries out
follow, you will.

Why today?
For a number of reasons.  Primarily, because the first rock festival to change the nation was the 1967 10th Anniversary of the Monterey Jazz Festival, a crossover, because, Richie and Janis Joplin were included and exploded the world, paving the way for Woodstock, the festival heard round the world, where Richie was the opening act!

The headliners were: T-Bone Walker, B. B. King, Richie Havens, the Clara Ward Singers, Dizzy Gillespie Quintet, Modern Jazz Quartet, Ornette Coleman Quartet, Carmen McRae, Earl "Fatha" Hines, Richie Havens, and Big Brother & The Holding Company w/Janis Joplin.

Teach your children well, their father's hell will slowly go by...Crosby Stills and Nash

Soon it will be six months since Richie passed (April 22, 2014).
Patty M. reminded of Van Morrison today, and it in turn, brought me to this place, where my heart resided a year ago today.


*FOLLOW
(Words by Jerry Merrick)

Let the river rock you like a cradle
Climb to the treetops, child, if you’re able
Let your hands tie a knot across the table.
Come and touch the things you cannot feel.
And close your fingertips and fly where I can’t hold you
Let the sun-rain fall and let the dewy clouds enfold you
And maybe you can sing to me the words I just told you,
If all the things you feel ain’t what they seem.
And don’t mind me 'cos I ain't nothin' but a dream.

The mocking bird sings each different song
Each song has wings - they won’t stay long.
Do those who hear think he's doing wrong?
While the church bell tolls its one-note song
And the school bell is tinkling to the throng.
Come here where your ears cannot hear.
And close your eyes, child, and listen to what I’ll tell you
Follow in the darkest night the sounds that may impel you
And the song that I am singing may disturb or serve to quell you
If all the sounds you hear ain’t what they seem,
Then don’t mind me ‘cos I ain’t nothin’ but a dream.

The rising smell of fresh-cut grass,
Smothered cities choke and yell with fuming gas;
I hold some grapes up to the sun
And their flavour breaks upon my tongue.
With eager tongues we taste our strife
And fill our lungs with seas of life.
Come taste and smell the waters of our time.
And close your lips, child, so softly I might kiss you,
Let your flower perfume out and let the winds caress you.
As I walk on through the garden, I am hoping I don’t miss you
If all the things you taste ain’t what they seem,
Then don’t mind me ‘cos I ain’t nothin’ but a dream.

The sun and moon both are right,
And we’ll see them soon through days of night
But now silver leaves on mirrors bring delight.
And the colours of your eyes are fiery bright,
While darkness blinds the skies with all its light.
Come see where your eyes cannot see.
And close your eyes, child, and look at what I’ll show you;
Let your mind go reeling out and let the breezes blow you,
Then maybe, when we meet, suddenly I will know you.
If all the things you see ain't what they seem,
Then don’t mind me ‘cos I ain’t nothin’ but a dream .
And you can follow; And you can follow; follow…
Try

http://vimeo.com/37671417

The last time I saw Richie A-live, of all places, a poetic place perfect,, where we keep our treasures.



http://www.last.fm/event/588961+Richie+Havens+at+The+Metropolitan+Museum+of+Art+on+2+May+2008
Robert Ronnow Aug 2015
Just watching raindrops slapping leaves
is better than anything requiring electricity
including fame and posterity. Monday
morning I walk over to the art museum
stand before Homer. I'm imagining
life in ancient Greece, the land largely
deforested to build a navy, white as bone,
a tourist attraction. The sea too being
denuded of its fish, super-efficient fishery
fleets, and every human wanting a healthy
dose of omega 3. O my God, omega!

the 24th and last letter of his alphabet,
which means great and has a value of 800,
often used to denote the last, the end, the
ultimate limit of a set, as in I am the alpha
and the omega
(which was omitted
from the oldest manuscripts). In physics,
ohm is a unit of electrical resistance,
in chemistry, oxygen-18, a stable isotope,
in statistical mechanics, it represents multiplicity
(the number of microstates) in a system.
In astronomy, the density of the universe
(density parameter), the ranking of a star’s
brightness in a constellation, and the orbital
elements: the longitude of the ascending node
and the designation of the argument
of periapsis of an orbit.

Also the solid angle or rate of precession
in a gyroscope. In particle physics,
omega baryons. In complex analysis,
the Omega constant, a solution to Lambert's
W-function. In calculus, a variable
for a 2-dimensional region, usually
corresponding to the domain of a double
integral. In topos theory, the codomain
of the subobject classifier of an elementary
space. In combinatory logic,
the looping combinator. In group theory,
the omega and agemo subgroups of a p-group.
In Big O notation, the asymptotic behavior
of functions. Chaitin's uncomputable constant.

Omega watches, badge of the Supreme Court,
last mission of the Space Shuttle program,
God of War, Heroes of Olympus, Pokemon's
Omega Ruby, Sonic the Hedgehog's E-123.
Symbol of resistance to the Vietnam War draft.
Year of date of death. Lowest-ranked wolf.

In molecular biology, a two-point crossover.
The lower case omega denotes the carbon atom
furthest from the carboxyl group of a fatty acid.
One of the RNA polymerase subunits.
The dihedral angle associated with the peptide group.
A measure of evolution at the protein level.
In dynamics, angular velocity or angular frequency.
In computational fluid dynamics, the specific
turbulence dissipation rate. In meteorology,
the Lagrangian time rate of change of pressure
for a parcel of air. Natural frequency
in circuit analysis and signal processing.
The omega meson.
NULL, a missing or inappropriate value.

The first transfinite ordinal number.
The first uncountable ordinal number.
The complex cube roots of 1.
The Wright Omega function. A general differential form.
The number of distinct prime divisors of n.
An arithmetic function. The self-application combinator.

The elasticity of financial options.
The tracking error of an investment manager.
In linguistics, the phonological word.
The archetype of a manuscript tradition.
In eschatology, the symbol for the end of everything.

The beginning of my first week without tv.
No more movies. If I have nothing to do
or I'm too bored to do anything, I'll just sit still
see what happens. Be like weather.
Be under the weather, with the weather,
in weather. Watch weather from the window.
Wait for change, in me and the weather.
How will I change? This is life and not life.
In 15 years or so I'll be gone from the earth,
bones whitening on some mountain
or rotting in the lowlands river or estuary I lived near,
flesh to sweat flesh with the population, dead.

This death, consciousness of which should give
this life's activities perspective, except for the red
sunset which remains untouched by atomic IQ;
and dead, laying open to the blue sky and dry leaves
one autumn like last autumn, or the autumn
I realized my insignificance.
--after the Wikipedia entry, “Omega”

www.ronnowpoetry.com
judy smith Feb 2017
In 1983, the Fashion Design Council burst on to the Melbourne scene like a Liverpool kiss to the mainstream fashion industry. Inspired by punk's DIY aesthetic and armed with an audaciously grandiose title, an earnest manifesto and a grant from the Victorian government, FDC founders Robert Buckingham, Kate Durham and Robert Pearce were determined to showcase the burgeoning Melbourne design scene in all its outrageous glory.

"People resented hearing about Karl Lagerfeld," says Durham. "Our movement was against the mainstream and the way Australians and magazines like Vogue treated Australian designers."

Over its 10-year lifespan, the FDC launched such emerging designers as Jenny Bannister, Christopher Graf and Martin Grant. But what was perhaps most exciting was the FDC's ecumenical approach. Architects, filmmakers, artists and musicians all partied together at runway shows held in nightclubs.

"It was an inventive time when people came together and made people notice fashion," says Durham.

Among the creative congregation, Durham remembers artist Rosslynd Piggott, who constructed dresses of strange boats with children in them and filmmaker Philip Brophy, who used "naff" Butterick dress patterns. Elsewhere, an engineer made a pop-riveted ball dress out of sheet metal. The crossover between music, art, graphic design and film extended to architects such as Biltmoderne (an early incarnation of celebrated architects Wood Marsh) who designed the FDC's favourite runway and watering hole, Inflation nightclub.

"Clothing was confronting," says Durham. "It was brash and tribe-oriented. It was quite good if you weren't good-looking. People liked the idea that this or that clothing style was going to win you friends."

Today, however, even Karl Lagerfeld has a punk collection. To complicate matters, "fast fashion" appropriates the avant-garde at impossibly low prices. The digital era too has caused the fashion world to splinter and bifurcate. What's a young contemporary designer to do?

"The physical collective is no longer that important," says Robyn Healy, co-curator of the exhibition High Risk Dressing/Critical Fashion, which uses the FDC as a lens to view the current fashion landscape. "These are designers who are highly networked through social media who put their work up on websites."

Fashion designers still use music, film and architecture, but in different ways. Where FDC members might document its runway shows with video, studios such as Pageant use video as the runway show and post them online. Social media is perhaps the big disrupter. Where FDC designers might collaborate with architects, today it's webdesigners.

"Space has changed," says Healy. "Web designers might be the equivalent of the architect today. It's a different use of space."

As grandiose as the FDC, yet perhaps even more ambitious in scope, is contemporary designer Matthew Linde's online store *** gallery, Centre for Style. Like the FDC, it offers space for "artists who aren't at all designers per-se, but they're dealing with a borrowed language from fashion", Linde told i-D magazine.

"It's an extraordinary juggernaut across the world with a huge amount of Instagram followers," says co-curator Fleur Watson. "[Linde] has created a brand that uses social media in an interesting avant-garde way."

Yet unlike their often untrained FDC counterparts, these designers are perhaps the first generation of PhD designers, notes Watson. "Robert Pearce had a belief in culture changing the world. That's what these new designers are reflecting on in their research, their position in the fashion world and how do they change the way fashion works?"

While it's also true that new technologies offer exciting possibilities in embedded fabrics and experimentation with 3D printing, fast fashion has created certain expectations.

As Cassandra Wheat of the Chorus fashion label laments: "It's just hard for people to understand the complexity and the value that goes into production without being really exposed to it. They think they should have a T-shirt for cheaper than their sandwich."

During the course of the exhibition Chorus will produce its monthly collection from one of the newly designed spaces within the gallery. The exhibition's curators have commissioned three contemporary architects who, like its '80s counterparts, work across the arts, to interpret FDC-inspired spaces. Matthew Bird's Inflation-influenced bar acts as a meeting place for the exhibition's forums and discussions on the contemporary state of fashion. Sibling architects abstracts the retail space, while Wowowa's office design resembles a fishbowl. For Watson, the exposed shopfront/office has as much front as Myer's. Its architecture suggests the type of brazen confidence every generation of fashion design needs. Says Watson: "Fake it till you make it."Read more at:http://www.marieaustralia.com/cocktail-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-2017
BellaBloom May 2015
To My Piano...

I spill out the good tunes
high octaves and silence
the silence not even Brahms
can play out
two sharps one flat
crossover crossover
do you hear the sadness
tremble the pain roar
I feel it
I feel it
steady on the pedal
wandering hands
my eyes skip a beat
putting these keys
to such warmth
push the words
to melody
my unforgiving chant
I want to crawl
slither up your spine
can you feel me
can you hear me
because I sing for you

co. 1999 Bellabloom
Apr 16, 2005, 6:02:44 PM
DMJ Jun 2013
The moment you graced my presence, my mind switched to 16-bit mode.

You was a classic type of adventure, one evolution rarely shows.

All these side quest chicks you made me put on pause soon to be ended.

Cause playing sandbox style wasn't the type of image you've given.

Hips more curved than a sonic loop makin me want to do a quick run thru.

But your eyes told no lies they made me more than see.

That your quest was bigger than any final fantasy

So I'm taking my time to learn this pattern

To figure out how to beat your robot masters

Stage 1 your name Stage 2 your number skip to stage 6 make sure I'm the thoughts in your slumber

My mind's so focused my inputs gotta be right

One wrong move and I lose my last life tonight

No save points just passwords you say I gotta learn your codes

Wouldn't dream of cheating ya besides I don't know what buttons to hold.

Well **** baby you say that I made it to the end?

What's that? To see the true ending I gotta... Beat it.... Again?

But there's somethin about you that just seems worth the hassle.

Cause you got me jumping like mario racing to bowser's castle.

You're as cunning as zelda, as sweet as peach

As scary as you want when you feel your inner sheik.

You got a smile more connected than the perfect tetris

An old school star that's leavin me feelin rather hectic.

Cause you see it's so easy playing for the highscore

But when ya add a lil passion you don't get as easily bored

So I see this challenge as straight 2D

No circular levels just a series of puzzles between you and me

Let's make this purely one on one a street fighter thing.

No crossover tag action hyper fighting fling

See you got it all twisted just check my guide book

A good portion of character data is written on your look

Quick call doctor mario I think I got the flu

I need help tryin to convey these abstract thoughts to you

See you're like 16-bit beginnings hand drawn and expertly crafted

drawn so precisely each movement in action

So I'm focused on this quest like them double dragon twins

Ready for whatever final boss you got at the end

It makes everything worthwhile when I see your beauty on the go

And I drop my ps3 world to switch to my 16-bit mode
Nat Lipstadt May 2016
eight years on,
she, airplane borne,
takeoff - a minute from,
texts a parting thot

"love you madly"

you can't recall ever
that prescient précis designation
on any earlier editions
of your other old lovers resumes

this tidbit of reckless abandon
moves fury fast,
direct to the top of the list

madly, manly madness,

when you man,
allow the crossover to occur,
when boundaries twixt honesty and
sensibility
are declared
voided laws

when the white cloth napkin of careful sanity  knocked, swept to the floor

maddening love rawest realized
conceded

in madness, completion is indivisible,
indivisible, completion is madness

manly madness
Open up your eyes realize
Everybody out to get you sin through
Ya body mind and soul take control
Don't let the ******* bury you
Take a sip of this tangeray
To calm you
Picture your adversaries buried
Restin' with the rest of the dead
Puffin' **** clock Gs til.my eyes bloodshed
Look in my eyes tell.me what you see?
Ya see a nigguh down for the Revolutionary
Most see an early cemetery I never worry
God's on my side but I was put on this earth for suicide
Can't hide from the pressure
Since I'm.human I'm.prone to feelings
I mentally prepare myself Cuz I'll be murdered in cold blood
From a bunch of thugs
Naw! not street thugs I'm.talkin' DC thugs
They stay lurkin' in the dark
And there I was
Chillin' suddenly I seen a spark
Eyes flash quickly death roads ahead
Will I struggle and toggle to survive?
Or will I let the crossover thrive?
On me my soul wants to be free
Damage is done so theres no more saving me
Its time to go done being bounded on hells shoulder
Tryna find a heaven but I'm.stuck in this boulder as my body grows colder
I'm shell shocked
I thought I told ya this is the ballad of a dead souljaaaaaaaa!!
Ballad of a dead souljaaaaaa!!
Mary-Eliz Jan 2019
There's a song...
a piece of music
I wish you could hear

when I hear it
a couple appears in my mind

they move lightly
step forward
back
forward
smooth
two as one

the music
flavor of Latin
sultry guitar
dulcet violin
breathy flute
suffuses their bodies
tawny velvet skin
ignited in a warm glow

hands raised
palms touching
crossover steps
bodies syncopated
perfectly in time
perfectly in step
perfectly together

turn
turn

his hands on her
slender waist
move softly
in rhythm
with the easy swaying
of her hips

her silky dress
floats and ripples
a scarlet river
shining under fluorescent "stars"

their gaze steady
into each others' rich
mahogany eyes
until she is twirled
back to his chest

hands still on her waist
his lips tenderly brush her neck
he takes her hand
she turns
into him again

in that moment
no one
nothing else exists
only the music
and their fiery zeal
""Ak Verlang Na Ju" is a song in Africaans. It means "I'm longing for you." recorded by Wouter Kellerman. the CD "Love Language". The song is by Sonja Herholdt.
agdp Aug 2011
All through the afternoon,
among these drinkers
to their tables to java cups
all from a bird’s-eye view.

Blended individuals,
of varying hues
too much sugar, no need to stir
hot, no ice - “a language of their own”
adding “cream to this crop”
like fraternity’s rushing thought
to seemingly **** out the weak.

Textbook before my face, coffee to my right
surrounded by chatter, and apparent debacles
behind the rearing of my ear lobes
set the seem from my shirt and cut
play the motion picture, film, pan out.

360 crossover,
these eyes wander, merely to ponder
conscious parenting to the mind; reminded
yes I did complete that -
atoning to what could be done,
view now from my eyes
around clouded peripherals
(zooming into this page)
trying to read to figure
a Venn diagram of the temporal lobe;
committing to memory ironically
it’s long-term function to maintain
the conception of this thought.

Distracted, back to this drink
re-calling coffee mythically impedes growth
or so they say to stray from focus -
the holder is the cup, to handle is abrupt
but we drink it, to straighten our view
so much as this morning vice stimulation
branded by a jaded graphic mermaid,
or possibly a siren, or to some a muse.

But, it’s the afternoon; no need to rush,
just here and there, casually taking sips
temporary jolts of caffeine
a temple of thought,
temporarily fading,
due to lacking the day-to-day rest.

Same perspective,
but this time curious, calm, and collected
like a child looking above an ant-farm - proud
gazing at moving points like synapses
of our coffee cups as opening our wakefulness.

Can we just remember to understand
that everyday is different.
Our mornings may start mundane
but we find joy in the day
for afternoon connections
no matter what they may be, just to remember,
so that we can have lasting memories,
and not the caffeinated ones.
http://soundcloud.com/medicinalpoet/agdp-caffeinated

AGDP © 2011
By Jennifersoter Ezewi

They sat at the gate
Waiting for me to crossover.

I flew over their heads
Laughing at their foolishness.
The poet affirms that God works in mysterious ways.
yo the homie Juan C
pass the mic to me
so i wreck this beat
like SPC protege of k rino
hos call me mandingo poppin' ***** tapes demo
never rode a limo
only smokes primo n got pitches in otcos
8 bars make ya see the star im far from soft
f them boys in the nawf
woth south side ****** til we die
we ride with the hardest regardless
if they try to break our clique
we still gone spit ****
like a cobra ya know its over
once the venom in em then couple.of minutes later
finish em
mortal combat **** all the rats
despise chit chat call my youngest ** ***** cat
pack a black gat
we push loot in the golden regal
every thang we do is illegal
lethal
as gibson they don't want none
boys crackin' rhymes til the crack of dawn
then wake up next day just
to bust another one
my OGs rollin' with Don Key n Pokey
hardest in the pit
and if you disagree we make haters **** our ****
sloppy **** no ****
them ******* can lick the pigment off a ***** stick
but i play it safe n cool
cuz hos try to burn you
got it played smooth groove
to the sound bound to get down
if ya down bow down listen to the gun shots sounds
now ya leakin' where ya be speakin'
now ya body tweekin' n geekin'
soon to crossover
like epmd mic check ya know me my crew be
fascinating minds with our hocus pocus never lose focus
my raw raps got them nervous
got Juan C next to me
and got the tech services
and no playin now from the htown
still holding top with no crown
dont need a status we the baddest
turn the lane three wheel leanin' with bird chirpin'
still smokin' up the scene
with clip fully loaded magazine
glock cocked we aint gone stop
sip the prometh to the day i drop
dont stop
the music cadillac funky so ya know im gonna abuse it
drip up drapped out know what im talking bout
deep in the south we put guns in ya mouth
no flappin' we stay strappin'
like willis ya know whats happenin'
and we aint gone stop the rappin'
mad at us cuz we bring the real
o so real make every nation feel
what them southern slangers do
dangerous as the Bronx Zoo
what ya wanna do
with stay with more than sun tzu when death comes to you
them boys n blue
cant save u
on the mic i gets wicked after a meal ticket sadistic
as charlie manson
got a twenty two mansion
followed a long benz with the big blue lens
zero percent window
so i can smoke my indow
what they dont know wont show
follow the peckin' order my game smarter
jaun n yosef isthe real hip hop martyrs
and we ready to battle
sogo ahead and shake ya rattle
cuz we'll be quick to slaughter


yea man let me come through
versace with the blue
jeans coming clean sip lean
with an ounze of promethazine fiends
be on the look out
cuz ya know im about
to clown harder than Corey Holcomb
boys gettin' dumb dumb
got hos thats chewin bubble gum
shakim' *** too fast
make a ***** urge for a ***** lick
yea im rollin' with the *******
up clique we sick
as a muthafucka
enticin' all types of diseases
cuz the lyrical content pleases
many foes and hoes
i wear baggy clothes with jabos
dont ya know
im rap don vito stack chips like frito
lay i parlay
on sittin on the dock of the bay
jammin k
or that *****
htown is how we do?
ride ***** with the bulls
euro grills caprice with pipes made of steel
o so real still
got every nation on they feet
they cant feel
this uh coming down on ya blvd
ya can see me on tv or 60 inch screens dvd
**** blue rays i rock ray ban shays
like Mj ya can catch me on a fade
doing what i do in the paint
with a Styrofoam cup full of drank
grams of dank
smoke so much we cant think
eyes cant blink im on the brink
of an overdose
ya suppose to rock the flows like me
im like biggie
spittin the classic mr magic
girls call my **** game fantastic
stretch ***** holes like elastic
leave her visions plastered
like she drunk as ****
im pushin luck six flat riding a black truck
40 oz in the gut gangsta strut
im the best ***** whatttt?
im ina rage one luv to homies
in the cage
when i hit the stage
ya know the crowds gone get wild
im flagrant like a fouls problem child
use my cash bills to fans thrills
no spills on *******
ya know the deal
hos be reachin' still teachin'
n im all about mass appeal
lmnsinner May 2018
“extra condoms” (explicit!)

a title deposited in the poem-to-do file/notebook,
with no body yet to follow through on or upon

which she tumbles to, an irresistible unrepentant
crooked finger hook line and she is sinker stinker caught,
worming in her feigned anger

current curiosity comes
fast and furious further,
demeanor—demanding
ex-explain-nations,
how could this
ever be a
poem?

stare ferocious, I am the prettiest pretense
of a pride incarnation hu-mane incarnate

call me in another language
Vasco da Gama
a sea route to India will uncover
on your worldly tattooed body,
drawing maps as we go along

devour her neck with stingless bites,
explorer voyager a rambunctious tongue undenied,
every space in and between needs  
surging surgical tastings, erupting into her indentations,
inserting her appendages into my places where they
have a business going-knowing

just in case that’s the one!

secret passageway canal holy crossing crossover

later she whacks me because the question goes unanswered
and no sheath employed when my tongued fingers are ten times
more demanding and supple and supply the exploratory course closing with spices and woven silks in Indian colors vibrations
why then,
extra?

god she is so lovely locomotive annoying!

to peak you peeking
to see your astounding astonishment,
you are our provisions for a sea voyage
and put the risk in, the trigger in,
when wherever you see the world-word,


extra
Nat Lipstadt Dec 2015
For Sheron, On Our Seventh Anniversary:
Bound and Boundless

~~~
different shaped,
a square peg, a round hole,

and yet, the carpenter is pleased

two planes,
different shaped,
yet overlaying,
occupying
conjoined space,
angular symmetry

and yet, the geometrist is satisfied

can


bound and boundless,*

fully opposing notions,
incontrovertible,
yet be in pleasing poetic
combination?

how
can it be,
two bonded,
distinct spheres
contoured with crossover
bordered blended boundaries
exceed aligned,
beyond merest connecting,
overlapping,
intersecting

two circles
electronically collide,
venn diagrammed
to share,
programmed unknowingly for creating
a big bang
of a harmonious, simultaneous
new star creation

this mystery,
this poem,
its
resolution~solution,
comes to the poet
late in life,
yet contented, believing,
it is a far, far
better
thing that he does
now,
than never

life and love
living in unison,
transforming, deserving
of a unique discrete,
le nom est
l'unite

perhaps you are thinking,
this poem, a failed attempt,
neither the best or the worst
of any written anywhere
upon this green globe,
this day

yet he smiles
as it composes itself,
for though without its own sustaining merit,
it is a poem
regarding the best work
he
have ever done,
and the unity
it portrait paints,
is a
nova
worthy surely
of a thousand millennia

and yet, the poet is content
with its
content*

~~~
Dec. 15, 2015
Nat Lipstadt May 2017
Oh Sally,
on the day you "disturb me,"
the messiah will, must have come,
anything else, but a minor inconvenience,
a foolish distraction

Lola! Grandmother!

the things we say with out thinking,
quick retorts that boom an
instantaneous, say hey Willie Mays,
mutual concern cognitive proposition,
and you foresee the child conceived within

"should be a poem in there somewhere"

in the handed pen, drawing heated inspiration,
from the confluent patty platelets of the
shared single river
of heart lungs eyes flowing as one into this
busy subgle poetry pointer finger @ 4:18am

your secret safe well hid within this writ,
you, mother laureate to a thousand at minimum
so many secret lovers and children in your posses,
the eloquence of your kindness world renown
your behind the scenes presence,
I am smiling, stupified, amazed discerning,
and stand awed,
the global Amazon store of only good

so late nite/early morn the clarity rises with sun
so many secrets lay before me in plain sight - prior unrecognized,
what was obvious, delayed, as sometimes I hear,
messiahs are

one more, maybe two, perhaps as many/few as a minyan ten
of grandmother queens raising up the children,
poets all, such as yourself
then, Messiah will be choice-less, compulsed, compelled
to return and bless us all

course, even when that happens
you still won't be disturbing me,
for you will be right-sided beside him

but not to worry for at this continental crossover hour,
most are sleeping, others feeding the babes,
some returning from church or mosque,
no one looking here at ShePo,
a secret of glory disclosed,
revealed,
only you will see,
so as promised Lola,
your key to a certain stairway,
safe tween
just us three

no tears please,
for this but just,
a just confession, an overdue library book,
a poem resting on my night table
awaiting reading, composition, completing,
arrival?
and that's between
just us three
5:11 and the orb majestically rises refreshed
from the East Rivet
and the windows reflect its muted irange presence,
but just one window observatory
winks, sparkles,
musr br loose or eyes tearing
SUNDARAM SARMA Feb 2019
Can you envision a city built on a lagoon?
That's Venice, a name that always makes one swoon,
It has a reputation for canals rather than roads,
And a prime reason why one will never get bored

The famed gondola ride through the labyrinth of canals,
Is a must-have experience that is far from banal,
Gliding through serene waters with hardly a tilt,
While being serenaded by the cheerful gondolier's lilt

The epicenter of Venice is the popular St Mark's Square,
Teeming with tourists with a perennial effervescent flair,
Historic buildings and stately arcades form the periphery,
With an array of cafes and accompanying music for people to make merry

Witness the serpentine line of visitors entering St Mark's Basilica church,
Gazing at seemingly endless luminous gilded mosaics inside makes one almost lurch,
The Pala d'Oro altar of gold studded with hundreds of gems is a marvel to behold,
As are the mammoth innumerable columns that are so mind-boggling, if truth be told

The majestic Doge's Palace bears the stamp of masterpiece Gothic architecture,
Resting on a double arcade of marble columns lends solidity to the structure,
Spectacular halls and staircases adorn the interior, replete with exquisite paintings,
While ornate works of art complemented by more paintings are featured in the ceilings

The Bridge of Sighs is touted as one of the finest bridge architecture in the world,
The stylish Italian Renaissance connects the interrogation room to the prisoners' abode,
The sculptured sad or angry faces while crossing under the bridge can easily be seen,
Depicting sighs of prisoners awaiting their fate, as they mulled "what could have been"

The bustling Grand Canal is the central transport hub in picturesque Venice,
Gondolas, vaporettos and water taxis cruise up and down the canal without amiss,
Flanked by colorful buildings, iconic structures, buzzing markets and cobbled streets,
Time flies in hopping to various locations while savoring the glorious visual treat

The world famous Venetian glass has a history of its own,
Murano's glass museum visit facilitates all there is to be known,
For intricate shapes, it is a treat to watch the glass blower's skill,
Colorful designed vases and sculptures are effortlessly made at will

The lengthy arched Rialto Bridge is as old as the hills,
A crossover between San Polo and San Marco districts with hardly any frill,
It's breathtaking sunrise view receives considerable emcomium,
As a popular tourist spot, it needs no second opinion

As the bell-tower of the basilica, the Campanile is the tallest building in Venice,
The ring of each of the five bells is replete with history that one cannot miss,
The panoramic breathtaking view of Venice from the tower top,
Is one of the reasons why it is a must-experience visitors' stop

The mere mention of Venice always makes the lagoon city so exciting,
Little wonder that the annual Film Festival is a much-awaited outing,
The aura of glamor, glitz and entertainment never wanes any given year,
As folks continue to throng the city from far and near, with their near and dear
mvssbecvming Apr 2015
This is how I imagine I will tell the story of us:
When I was sixteen I spent six months cuddling, laughing and picking my bra up off the same guy's floor once a week, every week. He would pick me up in front of my house and we would hold hands on the way to his house while he told me about traffic and family and jobs and his dependence on caffeine. And sometimes when we stopped at a red light he would rest his head on my shoulder and if a song he liked was playing he'd lift our intertwined fingers into a fist bump just to make me giggle. We'd pull up to his house and he'd tell me who was there by the number of cars parked out front. Then we'd get out and hold hands up the path to his door breaking momentarily so he could unlock it. His dog didn't bark after the first two weeks and after I took my shoes off I'd always back up into the family room and sit on my heels to rub its stomach. Once he got his boots off we intertwine fingers once again and climb the stairs, sometimes I'd lead, sometimes he would. There was a small ledge that stuck out from the wall and I would always rest my elbows there while he fumbled with his keys again to unlock his bedroom door. Then he'd open the door and sit on the bed while I took off my jacket and set my old, cracked crossover purse on the bedside table resting on the wall. He'd talk about choosing a movie from his collection but that would just lead to me telling him I didn't know what we should watch and that I really didn't mind. Then he'd look up from his post, simultaneously pulling me to him and I'd lean down to kiss him. Every time. We both knew we wouldn't be watching the movie for long. And so we'd lay down, my head on his chest and after a few minutes he'd kiss my forehead and I'd look up, and he'd kiss me so softly, so slowly, so lovingly that I knew he knew exactly what he did to me. And that's how it went.
still going
Kurt Philip Behm May 2017
Writing verse,
  my distractions are few

Prose unwritten,
  the Muse importunes

Writing in meter,
  writing in rhyme

Her blessings upon me,
  fortune divine

Spiritual kinship,
  rind bearing fruit  

The flowers to spray,
  the soil to root

Prayers spoken ageless,
  footnotes in time

Words crossing over,
—gift so sublime

(Villanova Pennsylvania: May, 2017)
Nat Lipstadt Sep 2013
You would wake up, clocked, alarmed,
lost in the crossover transition,
from dream to live beauty,
and find me writing
laughing, crying, simulcast.

If you slept with, beside me,
you would put your head
on the chest that warms, enlivens,
the few who ever privileged to touch it,
shape-designed to give what needs taking.

If you slept with, beside me,
your vocabulary would contain
new creations daily, poems, words,
like nippilicious, and thatsridikulus.

If you slept with, beside me,
The first thing you would see thru the window,
that chair, angled toward the sun rising,
where I everything,
and sigh-smile simulcast.

If you slept with, beside me,
you would laugh at that man who takes
that newly arrived coffee mug,
and lifts it to warm that naked chest,
heat external thru skin,
waking up his heart, caffeinated for you.

If you slept with, beside me,
you would get to choose,
your fav body part,
a choice tween tongue
and tongue.

If you slept with, beside me,
we would argue mightily,
what be best,
multitudinous colors of the sky,
grass lush green or,
calm bay blue treading waters,
Bach or Billy Joel.

If you slept with, beside me,
you would not have to read this,
for this would part and parcel your life,
no need to say and see things twice.
  
6:43am sept. 14th

Postscript:
If you slept with, beside me,
You would to bed dispatched,
With the taste poem, of me, lullabyed,
And awake to the poem-chronicle
Of the first few moments of this day,
And in between, a duet,
Sleep, and a poem, entitled, me.
First poem of the day.  From actual to digital in a heartbeat, from the USA to you, so close, yet so far away, from me to you.   If you slept with, beside me...
Everybody wanna hate me
And be me
In the same sentence
Im grimy no need for repentance
They say im too controversial
**** the media
I stay underground f the commercial
Ya born with nothing
Ya die with nothing
So why would I
Try hug the flames in the sky
Searchin' for light
Putting up a fight in the blight
Light my blunts to open my cells
Destined for jail earth is hell
Cant get a break from a job
So 9 to 5 switch to robs
At night i conjure my darkest identity
Me myself I triple darkness regardless
How many form come
I got many algorithm one by one
Step by step page by page
Im in a rage
on the verge of slayin'
Witha 12 guage
MUASSEnBERG **** what ya heard?
ignore the singining birds
They get hot shots for coming to my spots
And **** cops
They deserve to get drop
Slayin' the innocent people
How is thr land of free
But believe youll wake up soon
In this 21 century
Ill be. Exposin' there secrecy
So go ahead and hate me
***** but??????


Histories a lie
I seen imagines
Of Caesar
pretendin- to be Son of Man
Understand
They deify humans
Nothin' but carnal minded
Individual
This world  is precisely
Satirical
Im caught in the diabolical imperial
How i survive is a miracle
Gave up childhood became a miracle
Spinnin' cob webs
Over my enemies and my ashes be
Tokes from **** smoke
Guns is tote
Just incase of an altercation
And you'll be at deaths administration
Beat the case with no hesitation
Im bringing chaos to every nation
Hope them ******* hear me
Clear me out
By the time they find me
Ill be out
Like Snowden spreaadin' luv
With Russia
Dont come to me cuz ill crush ya
Know the 48 laws to power
as i devour your flesh
With gun powder
Try to escape the reign
Only to entice more pain
To ya brain
Since the game done changed
Fools still aint rearranged
The pieces to the puzzle
I found i was stolen
From centuries ago and where do i go
From here i hear the heavens tryna
Give me a sign
Light coverin' the dark spark
For the spliff
Im the edge of th3 cliff
Soon to crossover throwover
Government entity
But nobody will see what i see
I got envisions of my
Enemies in casket im drastic
Graphic
With the designs i illustrate
And if you hate ?
That means you ******* cant relate
But you...
Nat Lipstadt Dec 2014
maybe '14 wasn't so great,
maybe indeed,
it was just
******* awful,
a year out of sequence,
come fifty, seventy years too soon.

here I am
alone at home,
laying about,
and A riddler wishes
me a marvelous holiday,
a merry Christmas,
interrupting my umpty umpth
viewing of Ralph's seasonal quest
for a Red Ryder BB gun

another poem, gestating,
suddenly borning,
kicking my guts
get out here and now,
nine months, of nine minutes are up

another story,
needy for retelling,
another riddle to unravel,
another itch, this day is now stuck on
a poetry assignment, way way too big,
high school football and a good novel,
put far aside and from a
watery weeping state,
here he goes...

ain't no hiding this day,
ain't exactly mine,
a nice Jewish boy,
from the skyscraper city,
brine bred on family lore,
that starts with an escape journey
from the Spanish Inquisitors
some five hundred some years ago  

clueless where to take this travail,
absent answers, questions unanswered,
why do I do this to myself,
looking once again
at the places where pain
comes from,
knowing that my human answers
just a salve of paper thin digital words

how to crossover,
from distressed days
to peace on earth,
when  I ain't got
no talking relationship
with Jesus on an
average bad day,
let alone his manger birthday

this year was not my best neither,
double negatives purposeful employed,
but my bad ain't even close,
to answering riddles and questions
taken as my very own,
making a bad year
that much worse

head butting,
no answers coming,
when my own spirit in the sky,
does it again,
via Pandora,
plays another
nice Jewish boy's answer
to my dilemma,
as if my mind read,
Norman Greenbaum sings his answer
from way back in
1969

well my prayer
sorta exactly answered,
whom am I to disbelieve,
here's another tribe member wrestling
with the exact same interrogatory,
invoking Jesus's intervention
one that sold millions of copies,
to ever question the
unfathomable wisdom of
the spirit in the sky

but my work made even easier,
the question riddler
clues me in
with her answer simple,
and unafraid:

"celebrate the present
and
remember the missing
then celebrate both together"


there is no divide here,
no north, no south,
call your spirit by whatever name,
and
where your story begins,
how it ends,
it's your own poem~composition,
mostly writ,
but not all,
by you,
that cannot be forgot,
for all humans are poems,
past and present
are forever

when at a loss
for the salve of digital words,
well remember Abraham told his only son
some plain words:

"the spirit in the sky,
will provide"

celebrate our portion,
larger or smaller
for are we not family,
one family,
one portion

Riddle solved

-----------------------------------------------
Norman Greenbaum - Spirit In The Sky Lyrics |1969

"When I die and they lay me to rest
Gonna go to the place that's the best
When I lay me down to die
Goin' up to the spirit in the sky

Goin' up to the spirit in the sky
That's where I'm gonna go when I die
When I die and they lay me to rest
Gonna go to the place that's the best
Prepare yourself, you know it's a must

Gotta have a friend in Jesus
So you know that when you die
He's gonna recommend you to the spirit in the sky

Gonna recommend you to the spirit in the sky
That's where you're gonna go when you die
When you die and they lay you to rest
You're gonna go to the place that's the best

Never been a sinner, I never sinned
I got a friend in Jesus
So you know that when I die
He's gonna set me up with the spirit in the sky

Oh, set me up with the spirit in the sky
That's where I'm gonna go when I die
When I die and they lay me to rest
I'm gonna go to the place that's the best
Go to the place that's the best"
For my Southern cousins, the Riddle family,
Christmas 2014.

thank you Ashleigh...

That this poem would be  written was strangely foretold two days ago:

"children
foreign born,
here & passed,
whom I have never met, but,
who are poems
dearest in my breast,
as if, no,
as they are mine own..."

From
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/1007636/our-verse-into-psalm/
Thescientist Aug 2015
As I lie,
his last words ventilated my empty cadaver.
Wishing one final request from me,
from the departed.
No rose, no sweet song,
just ash engraved in stone,
carried by unwanted winds,
spoken loudly.
"Here lies a woman whom I loved so hard,
and shall not crossover 'till returning my heart."
Stephanie Jan 2019
two letter word and the goodness it held;
crossover the forbidden pleasure of sense
no sudden burst of supernova
shall ruin my assayed constellations
if million years do exist, why seconds don't?
but if I have to wait a light-year for my universe,
I will spell out a more magical three letter word
when the time has come and everything's in place
where would I be? in my universe?
I wish I'm with my universe, but first...
let me be drowned in my own bittersweet dreams
I'm not yet done in killing myself so I could finally live
if matter has space and has mass and so do I,
then why I keep asking "do I matter?"
the absolute value is not my care, to whom is
because for those who really care is the essence of worth
many claimed pledges were already burned
by the raging wrath of my trust-doubting sun
in a world full of lies, where should I start
to breathe the purity of painful truths?
so by then...
four letter word will rest in my soul again
01/12/2019 | 22:29
-- these thoughts are dangerous, they are suffocating my mind. begging me to let them finally out. guess i'm hiding myself in messy combinations of words again... :(

— The End —