"mose" poems
You sat on the other end of the table
Glistening, shining, and taunting me
Rosy cheeks with spurts of Yellow and Green
Silently teasing
A juicy, little Apple.
Hopefully no one would see me, no one would pay any attention
As I grabbed the treat and the knife
And began to dangerously peel.
I knew I was doing it wrong
My hands shaking while my cheeks began to flush
Embarrassed by my ignorant inadequacy.
Are you left-handed? she asked from my left.
Humiliation filled the corners of my eyes, wet and distraught.
No, I mumbled. My cheeks reflecting Mose's Red Sea.
I was beginning to drown.
Your thumb needs to move, You make me nervous,
and she sounded nervous indeed.
Put it down here. Help yourself control it. Guide it.
Everyone was staring now, the whole table awed
My ignorance showing, like a medallion at my chest
My shameful Apple as pathetic proof.
You're doing it wrong.
Non così. Basta, faccio io.
Let me do it.
You're about to graduate, and you can't peel an apple.
I began choking, drowning in tears of Humiliation.
No, let her do it the small Voice on my left said.
She is finding her way. Let me watch her.
I finished peeling the Apple
Suffocating my tears as I ate.
You remind me of Daisy, she said soon after
From The Great Gatsby.
I choked and laughed, more ashamed than ever.
I'm not sure that is a compliment.
I could barely muster a mumble.
She couldn't do anything by herself.
She looked at me, gentle and forgiving.
I think it is, she replied
Wistful and Wise.
Daisy was vital to the story, you know.
And I believe that given the chance, she could have done anything that she wanted
On her own.
May 5, 2014
May 5, 2014 at 6:27 PM UTC
oh dear god!!!
help me, please
i have just realised
i am a crazy cat lady
of the virtual kind
...on pinterest...
i own
one hundred and three
cats..
and still want more....
please dear god...
help me
save from myself...
and this
odd
compuction for more cats's
for
consecratation to my virtual feline nation
and
continuing attraction
to cute kitten paws
wait
i have had a thought
at least they don't shed
cat hair, in the wardrobe
drawers ...
or leave unpleasant gifts
on the laundry floor....
i don't have to feed them
or
let them out the door
so when i think about it
i mose well
have more
call me the
catlady sublime...
Jul 23, 2014
Jul 23, 2014 at 4:56 AM UTC
Brushwork
If I were a jazz pianist I would pay
my dues in one lump sum on a tip
from some country singer on his way
down who gives me the shirt off his back
a Nudie with piping and plenty
of rhinestones that catch the stage
lights just so and sweep in reflection
across the polished planes of my 1890
rosewood Steinway Grand Modal C
a beaut with a pedigree, one I won’t fail
to mention from the stage in the second set
during the pause between How High The Moon
and I Love The Life I Live from behind
a bobbing cigarette, sharing the remarkable
fact that this is the very same piano
Mose Allison played in a two night stand
at the Blue Note in 1962. Later I’ll work Jimmy
the trumpet player’s name into a tune and trade
winks with the guy on upright bass
the drummer slack jawed oblivious, lost
to us all in some very tasty brushwork.
Oct 10, 2016
Oct 10, 2016 at 7:49 AM UTC
Oh, Tennessee wind is blowin',
Skies been lookin' grey.
**** hounds keep on whinin',
And I ain't seen your face.
Oh... in so many days...
I'd ask you over, baby,
But it seems there ain't no space.
Oh, Mose is in the front room,
Sleeping on the floor.
There's a leaky pipe in the bathroom,
And no henge on the door.
Oh, if I hardly please you,
Can't give you a home you'd like.
When I worry about the things I say,
Honey, that ain't no life.
Jul 31, 2011
Jul 31, 2011 at 3:19 PM UTC
Goin to New England for a couple of weeks
won't have to deal with any NYC creeps
I'll be livin in a cabin on a White Mountain peak
Layin low, coolin my jets in some splashy creek
it's been a ****** of a summer, so to speak
Though in August I had a little hot streak
9/12 I'm back, and won't be meek
to **** the numbers with the havoc that I wreak
Mose Allison:
Your Mind is on Vacation
jbm
8.25.86
NYC
Jun 2, 2013
Jun 2, 2013 at 10:26 PM UTC
He opened the door as so many times befor the old man not giving thought to a stranger
inside in wait.
His smell gave him away even in the darkness it's always that moment just befor that
excite's me so.
As his feeble hands flicked the switch he gave no thought to a intruder
he only cursed the light.
Godammit! I just bought that bulb!
His voice like a memory lingred within my thoughts of hatred.
The mouse was in the vypers cage and I thrived in knowing the strike would
be savage in nature.
He stumbbled his way to the kitchen and as he was met by only the promise of more darkness it was then he would hear my hiss.
Hello Jim it's been so very long.
His eye's were so perfect in there grasp of terror for he knew the devil well.
Who's there? Get the hell outta my house I'll call the cops!
I couldnt hide my laughter Oh Jim how can you call the cops
When the phones dead besides didnt you miss me?
I dont know what your talking about who the hell are you?
The fear was a drug I knew his heart couldnt take much more but much like the phone he fumbled for it wasnt the only thing that would be left dead in this house.
He staggred back blind was the mose that soon would know my fangs.
My arms around wrapped around the weak old fool he let out a cry but I muffled it
with leather glove.
Oh dear uncle Jim dont you remember me?
You said I was always your favorite you sick ******* *******
How many were there ?
What's wrong are you scared good you ******* freak!
I felt his body tremble just as helpless as he had made me feel
You know old man it's only fitting I should **** you for so long ago you killed me.
His withred lips began to speak my name but soon he felt the sting and the
blood choked the sentance from his mouth.
His throat slit I let the old man crawl painting his kitchen floor a crimsom of pure devilish delight.
I dropped the phone in front of him and enjoyed as he in a last effort to survive
dialed the numders the gurgling noise a sweet music to my ears.
What's wrong Uncle Jim you seem so unhappy?
He convulsed in the floor I watched my creator die in such a beutiful demise.
The sound so sweet to hear my memories were washed clean my past was dead with the
wrinkled old garbage in floor I drove the blade in agian thats for the past you
I drove it in again thats for that helpless disgusting feeling of filth.
I drove it deeper agian and agian blood painted me i was washed clean of his decay.
How i love family get togathers
Oct 18, 2011
Oct 18, 2011 at 5:40 PM UTC
YOU CAME AND REMOVED MY RIND SO I COULD WALK IN LOVE, THE BOUND KNOW ME NOT! YOU SENT ME SO THEY COULD BE FREE.
ALL YOUR CHILDREN HAVE LOVE FROM ME TO COME THIS DAY AND RECEIVE HIM WHO GIVES FREELY.
A SOUL FELT FROM GOD THAT YOU SHOULD NEED A ROD TO REMOVE A CURSE BUT THROUGH ONLY YOU’RE VERSE, LET THE CHILDREN OF EGYPT COME HOME.
LET THEM SEE THEIR SIN AND BECOME AS A FISHER OF MEN. JESUS WILL BRING THEM IN, HE GIVES WISE COUNCIL.
FOR HE WAS GIVEN THE UNCIRCUMCISED TONGUE TO SPEAK THE WORDS OF WISDOM TO SAVE MEN,WOMEN, AND CHILDREN WHO WERE LOST THROUGH THEIR SINS, CONFUSION AND ALL OF LIFE'S ILLUSIONS.
HE SAT THEM ON THE PATH OF REDEMPTION THROUGH THE DOOR OF SALVATION BY THE RENDERING OVER OF THEIR SINS. REMOVE THE MIRROR SO THEY CAN SEE ALL YOUR GLORY AND COME ON HOME.
THANK YOU LORD JESUS FOR BEING OUR GUIDE TO AIDE US IN WALKING BY EXAMPLE WITH THE WALK OF CHRIST. JUST AS YOU DID, LET EVERY ONE THING GIVE AS YOU DID.
FATHER HEARS MY PLEA. LET THE ANGELS OF ISREAL FREE. AMEN.
TRULY MOSE'S DAUGHTER.
Nov 13, 2010
Nov 13, 2010 at 4:56 AM UTC
Whenever you're sad, whenever you're gloomy
I'll only be here for you to make you happy
Even though it may not seem and it's not obvious
But for me you are the only mose precious
You may not know it, but to me you're special
You are the very one and the only original
My feelings fo you keeps growing each day
And I never thought I would feel this way
If you could only ever fathom my heart
You'd know that I've already loved you from the start
Funny it may seems but I did not want you to know
This feeling of mine that doesn't seem to go
But now, I want the whole wide world to see
About how important you are to me
Hugs, kisses, and this poem I offer you
And my heart that will forever be true
Jan 5, 2010
Jan 5, 2010 at 7:02 AM UTC
Mose Allison
Glottal blues sing song
Dixie drawl behind beat, wry
as toast, work as play.
Sep 28, 2016
Sep 28, 2016 at 7:30 AM UTC
so...
this is it!!!
we have reached,
the epoch!
and now busy,
ourselves,
buying souvenirs
and taking selfies.
what next...
if this is the age of,
best "whatever" ever!!!
where do we go from here?
after ever ... is done,
(remember the reality is,
ever is never really done!)
well i suppose we
'mose well pack ourselves,
into the best pine boxes,
ever made and return,
into the soupy oblivion
from whence we came.
with less than a whimper,
more of an apathetic sigh.
as we watch the best ever
epoch slide on by...
Oct 10, 2014
Oct 10, 2014 at 6:36 PM UTC
jeg lægger krop til den mose der vokser ud af sandet som er dig
og jeg bliver overkrop i dette lille ***
og du bliver en indsunken sødme som jeg indtager
gennem kirtlerne der findes på begge sider af mit bryst
og jeg ligger i ske med varmen, der sniger sig ind under vinduet
og beundrer solen, smagfuld, som den tør vise sig her
Mar 14, 2021
Mar 14, 2021 at 6:46 PM UTC