"faye" poems
Stopper allsh Chub forsh shrame Good Chinwag, yah?
Arsh sieve Combatibles posh Boys bare playe
Shaye, yay Share! Bar score thore Pieces me - bah!
Mayse Lion bare thine; Yare Deer-Berry splaye
Wot cot Beagle-Risen thorse Polliwog
Spout Arms dash Legs arsh instant forsh shore Sport
Water-Rouse, rebound! Spare Skin-Sherry shogg
Staple coach-wires faye John Tom's Report
Behave, tharne! Parallipparel Shape conduct
Pour-Pore noodlesee Six-Squares shrub contesse
Mare beere yorsh Chest torso-avenue locke
Reprodpress marsh baye Bub-Peppers finesse.
Staye-upon-staye bore thoose talkitook borough
Boy-ish-Boy-font-fare-Potiphar-although.
Mar 22, 2013
Mar 22, 2013 at 7:59 AM UTC
found she had broken in
was naked but for my dress shirt
unbuttoned but covering her shoulders
on my bed
reading my copy of Dostoevsky
I had the NY Times in my hand
the cigarette burnt down
my finger like a
reminder to wake up
let it burn
pain had left my being
blonde and sweet , not the blonde of Marilyn
Bridgette but the sanctified
sweet of Faye Dunaway , smoke lingered
wafted tobacco and burnt flesh simmering
told her, anytime, didn't expect this,
she paid me no attention acted
or read like she was engrossed
in the greatest thoughts of social reform
or the realisms of crime and punishments
maybe debating socialism and capitalism
there naked in my shirt
taking the novelists cue I undressed
laid down acting casual worldly when
she asked me the oddest question
you like Dostoevsky
we debated the rest of the day week
night dark and days bright
she left such a sweet scent
on my shirt
the window she busted has never
been fixed
May 28, 2017
May 28, 2017 at 6:30 AM UTC
The graceful flowing of her night gown as she walked slowly throughout the house
Her hair I would play with when I was a young boy
Somehow, she is gone
I was there when she stood up in church praising a god who may or may not exist like a religiously fanatic zealot
But she was not a fanatic
She was full of love and passion
The one woman that got me through my childhood with her kind advice and her wise words
A sage that I seek now in desperate times.
All I can do is wait..and hope to see you again in the beyond
RIP Betty Faye Presley (Nana) 1931-2012
Sep 23, 2013
Sep 23, 2013 at 4:56 PM UTC
I’d thought that they were extinct until
I found one in the coop,
A genuine Jersey Giant, strutting
Up on the henhouse roof,
Twice the size of the other hens
As I said to my sister, Faye,
‘Where did it come from?’ She replied,
‘Not there yesterday!’
‘I go to collect the eggs each day,
Do you think that could be missed?
That bird is a giant,’ she declared,
‘So don’t blame me, desist!’
I calmed her down, for she used to flare
At the slightest hint of crit.,
‘Whatever it is, it’s here to stay,
Perhaps we can breed from it?’
There wasn’t a cockerel near the size
Of this random Jersey Black,
‘It must have come visiting overnight,
I joked, ‘from a neighbour’s shack.’
She wandered into the henhouse and
From behind an empty keg,
She said, ‘You’d better come look at this,’
And showed me a giant egg.
An egg so big that you wouldn’t think
That a chicken could let it pass,
Tall and brown with a pointed crown
And a shell as thick as glass,
‘Are we going to let it hatch it out,’
Said Faye, ‘or crack it yet?
I wonder how many that would feed
As a giant omelette?’
‘We’ll leave her be, and we’ll wait and see
If a monster’s there inside,
We might as well, if a cockerel
It can be the henhouse pride.’
So we let her sit on the giant egg
For a week, or maybe more,
Then Faye came running inside one day,
‘You’ve not seen this before!’
The egg emitted a humming noise
And rocked a bit on its base,
While through the shell there were coloured lights
That would fade then grow apace,
And as we stood it began to crack
Then pieces would fall away,
It almost gave me a heart attack
For what I saw that day.
For spinning inside the egg we saw
A tiny universe,
With a sun-like star at the centre and
Our planets, in reverse,
And as we watched it began to grow
To float out the henhouse door,
Swelling constantly as it rose
To the skies, with a mighty roar.
I don’t know what it has done to us,
The sky doesn’t look the same,
There are three moons now in the evening sky
Since the Jersey rooster came,
I lopped the chicken that laid the egg
And I wait for the slightest sight,
With an axe for the Jersey cockerel
That Faye prays to at night.
David Lewis Paget
Feb 2, 2015
Feb 2, 2015 at 3:45 PM UTC
Can you see? Can you see?!
Where the Faye roam free,
Where the earth and the sky are one in the night.
Can you see, can you see?
Where the Faries fly free,
And dance in the light of the moon shining bright.
Can you hear? Can you hear?!
The laughter of the lutes,and the songs of the Stars.
As they pull you to their world, too enchanted to run.
Can you hear, Can you hear?
The songs of the Sirens trying to beguile,
And the tunes of the Naiads calling you to drown,
Into the depths of the water, of which they both ware the Crown.
Apr 8, 2014
Apr 8, 2014 at 12:15 PM UTC
Last night
starseeds planted electric grids
dancing faye and other spectres glided
alongside
dancing dusk painters. poets. speakers. seekers.
lovers. sages. mage. warrior. shamans. stories.
I witnessed miracles most ignore.
Two shimmering light birds ignited the midnight--
new moon skies.
Inner Outer space beings danced with the stars.
Those at the labyrinth table return.
*We seven beings weave light.
We close spaces.
We honor One Tree Nation &/of Mother Earth.
We honor Sky Spirit Clouds &/of Father Sky.
We open our hearts & third-eyes simultaneously.*
Our spirit guides dance together,
totem animals play.
I am in awe.
Warm gratitude tears trickle down
my face.
Here, with these beings,
I am safe.
We are safe.
We are love.
Jun 29, 2014
Jun 29, 2014 at 8:58 AM UTC
Gratis I'll be the judge and jury.
Faye Dunaway does it for me.
Her modus operandi is elemental,
an acting force to be reckoned with.
Meanwhile travelling light with my freshly sealed
Olympus OM1 MD.
At the drop of a hat, loading slow film
captures the prevailing waves of ozone
Mercury in the high seas and I heartily
concur with the portent of
"Call Me a Liar"
by the Edgar Broughton Band too.
Somethings are bound to offend Aphrodite these days.
Jun 6, 2013
Jun 6, 2013 at 4:32 PM UTC
*Her metaphysical elephant
drips in blueberry-orange watercolors.
It watches us share a glorious
evening with star compadres
gabbing about healing thoughts & solutions,
as the rain gently whispers and drips outside.
This is our continued celebration of the summer solstice
dances and twirls like gyrating hips
humming Native American sounds
outside with the same Moonrise Star-children.
The previous morning began with a twisting journey
unto & into our golden selves,
vibrating hysterically in the foamy
fig beaches.
Days prior, on the solstice eve evening
we drank & spoke
in an intimate swamp faye bar
with a Neil Young cover band on hand
to embrace our cosmic gypsy heritage.*
Jun 25, 2014
Jun 25, 2014 at 3:09 AM UTC
I will live my life as a lobsterman's wife on an island in the blue bay.
He will take care of me, he will smell like the sea,
And close to my heart he'll always stay.
I will bear three girls all with strawberry curls, little Ella and
Nelly and Faye.
While I'm combing their hair, I will catch his warm stare
On our island in the blue bay.
Jan 13, 2016
Jan 13, 2016 at 4:43 PM UTC
Hope you had a good night’s sleep Faye
He coos holding the cup to her lip
*Nice isn’t it the morn’s first sip
And be ready for a lovely day!
By the way sweetie I had a good sleep
Long, dreamless, deep
If I don’t count that recurring nightmare
You’re sitting broken on your favorite chair!
Can’t stand to see you broken that way
From me you ever being taken away
And one morn here I’m alone to weep
Not holding a cup to Faye’s lip!
You know sweetie I meant it true
When I said would die without you
For you my love is so deep grown
I see it mirrored in the rusted bone!*
Faye’s eyes don’t move a blink
His words in her quietly sink
There’s a thrill in her timeworn bone
That her man would never have tea alone.
Aug 26, 2014
Aug 26, 2014 at 12:32 PM UTC
She’s into ravens and dragons,
charms, prayers and spells.
Enchantment and mystery,
spirits and fantasy.
Phantom and magic,
dreams and stardust.
She’s into fascinating connections,
rituals and meditations.
She gives thanks to the sun,
the stars and the moon.
She trusts patience and love.
She adores understanding souls,
She’s into all these
and a thousand things more.
Apr 22, 2020
Apr 22, 2020 at 10:53 AM UTC
Girl in a shop.
After the brandy and Mandy and Rita and Faye Dunaway,
what did that girl in the corner shop say?
'you'll be sorry
you'll be sad
you'll wake up tomorrow and you'll be feeling real bad'
she was of course right
I should have put last night on the back burner
and turned over a new page.
She is my sage,
her name is on the door above the shop
she's licensed to sell tobacco and the alcohop pop
that I so like.
Mike, her old man looks at me dead pan
he knows what I come for
and it's nothing that's written above the front door
Cor..
but she's sweet
I'd like to treat her
meet her socially
but that's not going to ever be
when she's wed
I'm fed up.
Jun 18, 2013
Jun 18, 2013 at 7:34 AM UTC
Some think it cute when young girls twerk,
Or use cosmetics like Tammy Faye.
Isn’t it cute to hear them curse?
Childhood?- Oh, that’s so passé.
Dress them like their older sisters;
in clothing barely more than slips.
Put ****** heels upon their feet
to roll those prepubescent hips.
I pity those who think this progress.
I put the ball back in their court.
The taking of innocence, I find appalling.
It makes childhood nasty brutish and short.
Oct 23, 2014
Oct 23, 2014 at 9:20 AM UTC
My dearest daughter
My lovely Faye,
Oh, how your smile
Lights up my day.
Ten perfect fingers
And ten perfect toes.
And your daddy says
You have mommy's nose!
Feb 3, 2014
Feb 3, 2014 at 12:58 AM UTC
Christmas is the time of year when people are nice to you
You give presents and have hot dinners and pull crackers and we tell jokes from them crackers and we invite all of our friends to really enjoy the party
Bop bop bopity boo
Christmas is coming and we celebrate too with eggnog and beer and wine oh yeah and we have a smack up BBQ which is cool
You see we play carols on YouTube and on tape
And we sing jingle bells jingle bells jingle all the way
Oh what fun it is to ride on a one horse open sleigh
How much would you pay
For a ride on your sleigh
For cousin Pete and uncle Donald and dear Aunty Faye
We sing let it snow but we pray for it bad because in Australia
Christmas is hot very very hot
Like burning the **** out of a baby in a cot
We wish you a merry Christmas
You have to do the dishes
Because if you don't you will live in a unorganised filthy house I wouldn't let my pet mouse who loves filth live there
Rudolph the red nosed reindeer
Is a fine fellow indeed
You think, if you wanna good garden nature grows and we sew the seed and Santa Claus eats the seed after traveling the country on his sleigh
** ** ** merry Christmas
Nov 23, 2016
Nov 23, 2016 at 8:26 PM UTC
A black and white long hair
getting up there in years.
She's not my cat
but she knows I'm a sucker.
Once a day
she comes looking.
She'll stare me down
and guilt me in to a petting session.
She sheds black and white
to paint a grey on the sleeve.
Now she can get back to
being the old girl that she is.
She will withdraw
to sleep away her day.
Mar 29, 2015
Mar 29, 2015 at 1:20 PM UTC
Every time I look up
Into the black ocean of night
I expect to see a falling star
Inevitably
The only ones whose light reaches my eye
Are fixed and fated
To remain eons after I've gone
That should be wonder enough
But I love a falling star
She guided my hand to the right spot
Said "This is how it's done"
I said "This is all there is?"
"Isn't this enough?"
"I thought it would be so different"
"It isn't"
"You're like a stranger to me now"
"Run your finger down the side"
"Your skin is dry and unfamiliar"
"Kiss me on the lips"
"Your tongue is like a withered flesh-prune"
"That Meat Loaf song is so romantic"
"I never bargained this with you"
"Aren't you the lucky one"
"Inside your mouth is like a desert"
"Keep your hand out of my pants"
"Oh, I really don't know what it was doing down there, as I'm not interested"
"Is it past midnight yet?"
"Long ago, this lesson has gone on too long"
"I'll let you love me tomorrow"
"By then it will be too late"
May 4, 2015
May 4, 2015 at 1:10 AM UTC
There are days when this depression is a
Whisper
A ghost hiding in the corner
That feeling that you just can’t shake but never
See
That buzz in the back of your
Skull a bee’s nest
There are days when I say I’m okay and I
Mean it
And there are days the covers are lined with lead
I’ve never been a weightlifter but I know the
Feeling of crushed lungs
This bed is an ocean and I am out to sea
With no anchor
Rough water
Tossed overboard
There are days when this depression is standing
On the shore, yelling
“You should have learned to swim”
But thank the
Universe
For handing you a life jacket and a map to me.
-Alyssa Faye Heckart
Nov 3, 2017
Nov 3, 2017 at 11:11 PM UTC
(This poem can be sung to the melody of "Tammy" by Jay Livingston and Raymond B. Evans.)
You topped TV's televangelist scene.
Tammy Faye, Tammy Faye, you were the queen.
When hubby Jim Bakker was forced to come clean,
Tammy Faye, Tammy Faye, you were still queen.
Will we ever know
What it was
That made you tick?
And people still wonder why
Your make-up was so thick.
We can still picture your face with its sheen.
Tammy Faye, Tammy Faye, you were the queen.
When other preachers were badmouthing gays,
Tammy Faye, you had new pathways to blaze.
You offered them love in so many kind ways,
Even though there was much money to raise.
When the world was cruel,
So very cruel,
To people with AIDS,
Compassion for them became
One of your crusades.
Although people blasted your actions and mien,
Nonetheless, Tammy Faye, you were the queen.
-by Bob B (9-21-21)
Sep 22, 2021
Sep 22, 2021 at 9:14 AM UTC
it hits me in waves
funny to think that one day someone who's there
suddenly isn't
you wake up and keep living, yet they don't
and it isn't fair
i see her face in photos, in memories
we go through the motions
trying to find a mundane sense of normality
people don't realise it's the little things that'll get you
walking through the door, seeing her shoes
never to be worn again
the postman, obliviously dropping a harsh reality
through the slit in the door
i look around
seeing reminders of all i've lost etched everywhere
in everything
my fathers home is my mothers creation
heart and soul blatantly poured into all, an unknowing invasion
every nook and cranny
every angle and decoration
it SCREAMS the loss of her humanity
it's funny that songs frequently heard throughout my life
suddenly resonate with my pain
their lyrics fill me with a remembrance of you
no longer do i take their words for granted
joni mitchell, belting carey and a case of you
paul simon, my first concert at hyde park, the sky clear as crystal blue
bjork, in all her raw beauty, confirming all that i was certain i knew
do you remember us singing till our voices cracked
desperate with the need of wanting more?
you taught more lessons than you saw
i remember the sentences that lead to the end of your story
your tired lips, they tried so hard to mumble nonsensical spatters of loving farewells
as you slept
me sat by your side
your hand in mine
unable to shake the feeling of certainty
that we would never meet again
and god, did it break my heart
when my doubt proved me right
i took your hand and i cried
**** lord knows part of me died
i tried so hard to clutch on to the memories we'd never have
the possibility of all that wold never be
as i heard you mutter your last goodbyes
your last words were 'you're such a good girl, i love you so'
and at least i know that you know
my love for you has no bounds
and i hope at least in some universe, and in some way
you'll finally be reunited with faye
your soul and the energy it provides
or whatever it is that we are made of
will finally lay itself to rest
cos **** life
**** its unwarranted test
all we can do is try our best
and that's what you've shown me to do
so, mum, i guess this is how i'm trying to say
my lord how i'll miss you
Nov 28, 2020
Nov 28, 2020 at 1:50 AM UTC
She walks silently in the darkness, a predator of the night, floating in the sleeping shadows. The very image of her face is both mystical and terrible. A goddess, a devil, an angel, a demon, all could be said about her. She looks human, but she is nothing like. She is cold and without mercy. And in the words of Faye Valentine, “A demon from heaven, or an angel from the underworld”. Her face would deceive the undecieveable, for that is her bait. Her beauty is beyond compare, not even Cleopatra could compete with this thing that waits for the perfect moment to make another tragedy, for the paean hymns to fill the air once again. For deep down, she enjoys the dirges. The songs of death they keep her entertained. Maybe you’ll meet her one day. If you’re nice to her she’ll return the favor. But don’t be afraid and don’t bed her for your life like a coward…Because then you might not do anything more in this life or plane from that point on.
Apr 12, 2020
Apr 12, 2020 at 7:14 PM UTC
.
did you ever wonder
as you looked into the night sky
as you dreamed of stars and sunnier days
that things would turn out this way?
i didn't
and it pains me to see
what things have become
without you around
to hold my hand
oh faye, if only you knew
though years may pass
and days go on
you live within me
you're always on my mind
and these tears still flow
and it is through this that i've learned
everything is temporary
and things don't last forever
but my heartache will
and it does
.
Jul 25, 2017
Jul 25, 2017 at 11:34 PM UTC
My Personal Testimony As A Christian :
I came to know Jesus Christ in 1979 at the P.T.L Club in Charlotte, N.C.
was baptized by their pool by brother Anthony.
Had the opportunity to meet Jim & Tammy Faye Baker there.
Growth for me as a Christian took time I went to various Pentecostal Churches that were spreading the world of God.
I always read from the King James Version of the bible.
Since 1989 I have written more then 1,000 poems and two short stories featured on line.
Many years would pass having every reason to grasp the true message of the gospel.
I decided to enter the New England School of The Bible in 1996 studied under very good teaching by Pastor Townsley.
A few years later I drifted away back to alcohol & drugs.
Then I repented in 2007 and joined the Wolcott Christian Life Center.
It was there I discovered the 12 steps of Christianity & prison ministry.
I went to Manson Prison unit in Cheshire Ct to spread the word of Christ there.
That brings me up to today in which I'm a practicing Charismatic Catholic at St. Michaels Church in Waterbury, Ct under the pastoral care of Rev. Labarda.
Jesus Christ to me is the true essence of life. He's my love the reason I get up in the morning.
I share with others daily the true message of the gospel message which is Christ in you the hope of glory.
My life verse is II Corinthians 10 vs 3-6.
Thank you for the opportunity in sharing my personal testimony with you all.
In Christ,
Poet Mario William Vitale
Aug 2, 2017
Aug 2, 2017 at 8:16 PM UTC