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Marian Oct 2012
The Brook
I come from haunts of coot and hern;
I make a sudden sally;
I sparkle out among the fern
To bicker down a valley.

By thirty hills I hurry down,
Or slip between the ridges,
By twenty thorps, a little town,
And half a hundred bridges.

At last by Philip's farm I flow
To join the brimming river,
For men may come and men may go,
But I go on forever.

I chatter over stony ways
In sharps and trebles;
I bubble into eddying bay;
I babble on the pebbles.

I chatter, chatter as I flow
To join the brimming river,
For men may come and men may go,
But I go on forever.

I wind about, and in and out,
With here a blossom sailing,
And here and there a ***** trout,
And here and there a grayling.

And here and there a foamy flake
Upon me, as I travel
With many a silvery waterbreak
Above the golden gravel,

And draw them all along, and flow
To joing the brimming river;
For men may come and men may go,
But I go on forever.

I steal by lawns and grassy plots;
I slide by hazel covers;
I move the sweet forget-me-nots
That grow for happy lovers.

I slip, I slide, I gloom, I glance
Among my skimming swallows;
I make the netted sunbeams dance
Against my sandy shallows.

I murmur under moon and stars
In brambly wildernesses;
I linger by my shingly bars;
I loiter round my cresses;

And out again I curve and flow
To join the brimming river;
For men may come and men may go,
But I go on forever.

 **~Alfred Tennyson 1809-1892~
Continue reading...
Alfred Lord Tennyson
The Brook (excerpt)
'O babbling brook,' says Edmund in his rhyme,
'Whence come you?' and the brook, why not? replies.

    I come from haunts of coot and hern,
    I make a sudden sally,
    And sparkle out among the fern,
    To bicker down a valley.

    By thirty hills I hurry down,
    Or slip between the ridges,
    By twenty thorps, a little town,
    And half a hundred bridges.

    Till last by Philip's farm I flow
    To join the brimming river,
    For men may come and men may go,
    But I go on for ever.

'Poor lad, he died at Florence, quite worn out,
Travelling to Naples. There is Darnley bridge,
It has more ivy; there the river; and there
Stands Philip's farm where brook and river meet.

    I chatter over stony ways,
    In little sharps and trebles,
    I bubble into eddying bays,
    I babble on the pebbles.

    With many a curve my banks I fret
    By many a field and fallow,
    And many a fairy foreland set
    With willow-**** and mallow.

    I chatter, chatter, as I flow
    To join the brimming river,
    For men may come and men may go,
    But I go on for ever.

'But Philip chatter'd more than brook or bird;
Old Philip; all about the fields you caught
His weary daylong chirping, like the dry
High-elbow'd grigs that leap in summer grass. [grig = cricket - m.]

    I wind about, and in and out,
    With here a blossom sailing,
    And here and there a ***** trout,
    And here and there a grayling,

    And here and there a foamy flake
    Upon me, as I travel
    With many a silvery waterbreak
    Above the golden gravel,

    And draw them all along, and flow
    To join the brimming river,
    For men may come and men may go,
    But I go on for ever.
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Ebor Genzi Sep 2016
Untitled
My troubled hands
trembling as I truss
trusted tricks
tried

Tragic tropes, tracks
Trampled trips and trippy trends

Trawlers tread
Trebles tremored
Trimmed but trackless

I      don't know  
what
this means anymore

Trump
a testament to trump's traction with his target demographic
#alliteration #trump
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Bronx Peach Nov 2013
Crescent City Blues
365Nectar #8    Crescent City Blues                      
Tues. Oct 1,2013 10:21 P.M.

In the deepest attic
the thumping blues
paint pastel portraits
of the Crescent City

In burning ripples
words slap strangers
taking refuge in Armstrong Park

Slender, ****, and Shorty
growl muted tones that ravage old bones
whip thru Mid-City
and saunter thru the Garden District
all just practice to sizzle in a wild tap dance in the Quarter

High steppin Indians
march toward God
and defy gravity.

Roaring second line
being led by woman powered Pinettes Brass Band
hold rush hour traffic hostage for days
belting greasy mingling tunes
in the eye of the dusty moon

A pitch black struggle
with the old moon
liberated old souls
entangled in soaked strings
and sobbing fingers

A quintet churns and
challenges the loneliness of pain

Strumming fingers
make out with
humming strings
under a starry blue grey sky

Stomping down long black Oak-lined roads
blowing thru shotgun homes
like winter cold howling
lifting heavy weights
from shoulders
like the sun shifting against bad weather
the blues lady
open the veins
of drunken roses

Lungs full of tears
Irma holla's, cries, and moans remedies
north south east and west of a street called Desire
Oh Etta
At Last

Dim Misty light
cast a heavy shadow
on wiggling spirits
as they cast off pain
Allen Toussaint
in smokeless blaze
tips the night air

Kermit blows
Dusty blues
seducing suffering souls
bounding them to each other in bliss

Whispering around town
in a perfect velvet midnight
sweet exhalations of song birds from corner joints
dance the Ruffin groove

fiery trebles wave at people passing by

Down right ***** blues
muzzles twilight
trombones,tubas, and trumpets
lay harmony
under the harmonious thunder
of the Marsalis Masters
and low down deep
in a musty sleepless corner
is the missing Bass-man..

hung over.

Copyright ©2013  Crescent City Blues
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Brycical Mar 2012
Picking up my saxophone for the first time in several years
When the wood touches
my lips
my whole body trembles--
           triplet trebles drip quickly
out....


In my head,
I sound nothing
like the spheres surrounding
        the guitar's melancholy,
        mellow below comes above
and I WAIL.....
          sailing these sounds
swaddling the drumbox beat
to  a crescendo
      exercising all the ills
I've swilled and spilled--
           FILLING
the house
              FILLING my self....
radiating away all thoughts
of doubt.
a reminder of the Bird 'Tranes
a reminder of the names
I used to sing......


Silence
seems like such a foreign concept again.
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Raymond George Dias Oct 2015
Luna.
Cooking up a blizzard.
Lost and unguided tendrils of space hold me captive,
the trebles of your heart beating
leads me back to my my Home.
That infinite gaze of yours into my dilapidated eyes,
is like a portal to you to look into my soul.
You blanket all my darkness
With your semi-pixie cut.
You’re my tree of knowledge
I bask in it’s shade.
Powdered Sugar coating on cupcakes.
Your silk armour protects your vulnerability,
My sincere apologies to all the arrows that gaped through.
Cover me under your angel wings,
Dab away my streaming reservoirs and replace them
with pollen and sweet nectar.
Your wishbone sacramental daydreams and dreams.
I feel so lost without you.
Bandage my old wounds with your tender hands,
Kiss me with your lush lips
sending jolts of star dust upstream,
within my veins dancing with yours palpitating feet.
My shot of euphoria and bleeding antidote.
My poetry.
You, Kalon.
Let’s raise a toast to your
beauté remarquable éternel, mon soleil
your free spirit,
your beauty of a ghost,
your heart racing with joy,
your heart steaming up with reticent sadness,
build up anger that come crashing down
like a typhoon detaching from the human perspecta.
I miss you.
Your emotional mess and literal mess,
I’m your magic broom.
You, my inspiration.
You, my groove.
You, my you.
You. My everyone and everything.
You’re fun filled supressed omnipresent electric feel.
You, The only Solis in my galaxy.
I love you.
Sharing your grandoise orangy tinge yellow light.
Bottling up a few star
in a bottle of red wine,
For her Luna.
Solis is 21 a (000,000,000) today.
**You’re irreplacable.
Happy birthday my best friend/my lover.
#love #sun #moon #happy #space #galaxy #happybirthday
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T Zanahary Oct 2012
Bird Songs
Everyday I am born to gods relaying
lineage through winged messengers.
****** radiance enkindles immaculate retinas
in solar flares
and picturesque mornings' idolatry.
Tones entrancing, blue jays
or northwest mockingbirds,
their range of majestic differences
eluding attentive innocence,
elation ebbs to pain's perpetual flow,
streaming hypno-suggestive claims
finding me inexorable
to beliefs I've not died.
Impassioned voices usher me through,
by mid-day I've learned
to speak their tongues,
strange hisses
and twisting trebles
an attempted appeasement for
conforming to continued cyclical living,
instinct selection seeking final detention,
rebirth a trapped evolutionary trait.
Dreading each twilight,
coping through whichever maiden
may allow my musings
to conform to her form
for the night,
overlapping until I
am but a shadow
dominated by her presence,
her brilliance illuminating every scar
of the side perpetually left
to the dark,
enlightenment held
in the warmth of her touch
until she too
falls beneath the horizon.
Sun setting upon this silhouette
and whispering tomorrow
in stagnant sleep speak,
settling to sacrifice's sufficience.
I fear this rest.
Gleaning premise from barbaric genealogy
qualitated as residual spatial pandemic,
leaving this life cycle
reduced to just one more death.
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Mark Aug 2018
The Wistful Dove (Sonnet)
Routinely lark, though this day depth therein
bemused as why the warbling fluter turned
instilled and sung laments, residing within
and perched unkind; that brittler branches - spurned.

Melodic angst has never sprung so dim
and tunes of fathomed trebles; parted love?
Perchance the ballad pours a swansong hymn;
and from aloft the skies - returns a dove.

If song an' bird be taken dazed with stars
beliefs contort and bowing strings apart
nor stealth be known as fervent dwells the scars,
though bleak the lust for any other heart.

O' feathered, pennate cherub play her whim!
Remain upon the sill and bygones swim.
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Poetic T Sep 2014
Nightmare Dreams
I dreamt in black and white
The horrors of old
Haunting my every moment
"Frankenstein"
8 foot tall
Hands bigger than my head
His footsteps
The earth trebles
Lunging forward
He grabs me
Speaks,
Would you like to join my
"Sewing group"
I scream in horror,
AAaaaahhhhh,
Hours past a blur
Cross stitch,
Arrowhead stitch,
Backstitch,
They all must be learnt
He speaks
"Who do you think mends my stiches"
"When they come loose"
His logic, I haven't a witty comeback
He lets me walk off
As I walk in to the woods,
I come to a crossroads,
Left path
ETERNAL DOOM,
8 miles
Right Path
FREEDOMS ESCAPE,
3 miles
Mmmm
Right path I think ill take
Alone I walk,
Hearing my beating heart
Then I hear a howl
AAaawwwww,
I turn slowly, heart racing
I swallow it back down
A hairy beast
Wolf Man,
His teeth shine in the moon light
Fangs,
Claws,
Hair,
He growls,
I faint, when I  came around
He speaks perfect English
"Brush in your hand"
"I cant get the back "
Do you know how hard it is to make
This coat so shiny and clean
I hit knots unseen ,
He
Snarls,
Growls,
Claws,
Sink into the ground
I "Gulp"
So loud it echo's into the woods
Hours pass when will this horror end
Eat me now I think in my head
And then a shimmering coat is seen
"Thank you"
Many run when they see me
"You stayed"
"Helped"
An animal man in need of help,
He guilds me safely
Now out of the howling woods
AAaawwwww
I hear in the background
Teeth smiling
In to the woods he returns,
I walk on my way
Taking in the sights
Then as sign I see
HOTEL TRANS VACTION
I think what could go wrong
I see a white haired lady
Sitting in a rocking chair
Knife in hand
She laughs as she
Plunges,
Gouges,
Slices,
And then I see a cake ,
Red juices pour out
As she licks the juices from the knife
I pail man speaks
"How do you do"
"I am Drac-Ula"
That Name rings a bell
"I get that all the time"
Would you like your bags
Taken to your
Drank blood red room
"Say what"
Its a themed hotel sir
Did you not read the sign
Mmwhaaaaaa
As I go in to the bar
What are the special's sir
****** Mary,
******-tini
&
Devils Handshake
I'll have the
Handshake please
Sign here please
......................................
?????
Ok I think
Wow that blew my soul away
With but one sip,
"Can I have another please"
Sorry sir bars closed,
"Only one soul per drink"
I go off to my bed, to rest my head
I awake with a startle
To see Drac-Ula
Floating in the air
I shake my head
Rub my sleepy eyes
Opened wide, was I still in a dream
"Hello sir"
A Bloodwiser  Night-cap
"Thanks I said"
What friendly people on this trip
As I drifted off to slumber
It felt like an eternal sleep
I awoke as my alarm went off
08:00AM
It said, was that all a dream??
My neck was really stiff,
Must have slept funny
I put on my trousers
Riiiiipppp,
Dam I haven't got time for this
Where's that sewing kit
10 minutes later
There that's done,
"Darling"
I hear the wife is  awake
I take up a coffee
"Morning dear"
You coldnt do me a favour
Help with my hair
So I
Brush
Curl,
Style
There you go my dear,
Open mouthed,
I put my finger underneath her chin,
You'll catch flies if you left it open an more,
I walk out the door
Off to work,
Ouch the suns really hurting my eyes,
That was one really strange dream I had...
#dreams #sew #blood #hair #horror #bite #howl #stomp
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Karla Groenewald Jan 2016
I Dream
I dream in trebles,
I dream in bass,
And also I dream,
Of a far,far-off place.

I dream in melodies,
I dream in chords,
And also I dream,
Of fairies and pirates swords.

I dream in a note,
I dream in a verse,
And also I dream,
Of a child's greatest curse.
To me,a child's greatest curse is that we grow up and lose all our disney dreams and imaginary friends.
#dreams #music #children
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Unlife Jul 2012
Untitled, but Overwhelmingly Significant
I was wading through the dust which slept in my room as I have done for too long,
And finding its sullen grey between shelves, atop books, across screens and sometimes on my sheets.
Many articles of interest in this room, certainly, but mostly?
Dust.
And I plunged into a drawer with curious hands like a child in a sandbox,
And I found that letter you wrote me last December.
Or was it the December before?
The one where your heart bled from your chest, ran down your arms and saturated the page.

You know the one.

Anyway, I read it. Every word.
And then I folded it up, neatly, and placed it back in the drawer from which I had found it,
Much to the dust's pleasure.

I'm moving out now. The way I had always talked about.
Getting a place with some close friends.
(Who will probably become dire enemies.)
It's why I've been rummaging through all of my old ****.
Grandma wants this to be a sewing room. I've got a lot of cleaning out to do, you know.
I'm becoming a man now. An impervious, veteran adult.
But sometimes, amidst the dust - maybe it's ash - I feel a pair of hands
Wrenching apart my insides while I recall the words in that letter.
And I remember how your heart sang to me, and I remember every note.
Every coda; its pianos and its fortes.
Your heart has written other songs now,
With warmer tambre and vivid trebles.
And this 'adult' wonders, amidst dust and ash, why he deafened himself.

Two Decembers ago.
Or was it one?

I am not wanted here.
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Ayelle Garcia Jul 2014
Art of Its Finest
Playing to my senses
Like a classic repertoire;
Strum as it advances,
A beat of my memoir.

With endless notes
That daunts its hem,
Every memory quotes
Emotions hidden each stem.

Up or down,
Trebles to its extreme;
Smile or frown,
Flows accord as it seem.

As you take a stance,
The feet feel heavy;
The perfection of your grace
Prevails over pirouettes.

Pressure’s getting intense,
Many are watching over you;
Looking your every move
As you bring in the show.
For the love of aesthetic things.
#art #beauty #2011 #aesthetics
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Sonja Benskin Mesher Feb 2014
1092. nuns
strange habit, breakfast at lunch.

strangle collars that hold, strangles
the voice into trebles. trinity
meaning three.

we fought the way from darkness,
into light, birds singing early
without the need, of alarms.

he said it was raining there.
here it was not.

now it is.

there are nuns in dolgellau.

sbm.
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Dash Jun 2014
The Countless Ways
In our release comes freedom to explore.
So, as our tearful pas de deux subsides
Do we lose ways to love each other more?

The artsinger at coda of her score
Exhales, her trebles rest, at last beside
Someone she's long sought freedom to explore.

In sultry shade on Serengeti's floor
A lion lounges, purposed by his pride,
He searches ways to guide, to love them more.

My hourly regret, my Sweet Adored.
Now his Adored? His Prize?  Why'd I provide
Him license, grant him freedom to explore?

You question, "Was I really such a bore?"
(no, never!) "Why was time and touch denied?"
"Is he away to love another more?"

I wake.  My smiling Juliet implores
"See, Love? The poison's false! You never died.
Release won't end our freedom to explore
The countless ways to love each other more."
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Lucia Domingos Fula Jul 2014
Yahwhe may you please ........
May I take a walk with you
Father Father may I have a word with you?
I feel so empty without you in my life,
My soul is weak
Crying out for help
But I haven't had none.
You are the creator of life
And the easer
No matter where I go
Astray or elsewhere
I still hear your calling
No matter how many times I ignore it
My soul trebles.
My eyes are filled with tears
While my heart is filled with pain.
It's broken,  please mend my heart.
Please help me not fall into sin
Guide me
Instruct me
Father, please take a look how my life is colliding.
Please direct me, use me as a tool.
#love #truth #life #inspiration #spiritual
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Laura Jul 2018
Meadow’s Melody
Somewhere along the narrow path,
I dream of what I cannot have.
Lushes and blooms fill the gravels
whisking away at scared ankles.
Skies scream of consistent mellows,
drowing about my broken trebles.
The winds of change play their harps,
but I am singing past their darks.
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ZWS Jul 2019
Hehd
Let me tell you a story that’s told, a place that’s dark and filled with brimstone
A place that can feel hot or cold, a place where brightness can unfold
Where men abroad are worn thin, some seem to think about little else, but skin
And as they walk their walk and talk their talk what they truly want passes like a gust of wind
The body and mind are acutely fixed, they lose their footing, they’re crossed and tricked
Head strong yet clumsy, tempered like an iron bar, these men will tell you what they think from afar
No real who’s, what’s, where’s or know how, their tongue trebles, it declares, without care or clarity, it cracks like a snare
Preaching strong and wide and broad like the big churches of St. Sinclair singing songs throughout outdated speakers, oh god
The opinions of shepherds are often the rumors of sheep, trapped in gossip like the bonds of viral news excused for tweets
They wear it on their arms and nationalize their pride all while being humble, they claim, but knows not who it harms
They make a point to point fingers for points overwhelmed with the poignant denial they pass off as practical
Cracking irony with their minds white washed from the wash and their thumbs I mistake for calloused ******
This human condition we oft’ know well, is dying right under our nose
Medicine won’t help those who are only concerned with what happens above or below
#news #media #ignorance #dying #world #god #existential #stupidity
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Poetoftheway Apr 2020
We Raggedy People:  Above Everything Else, Guard Your Heart
<>

~ “Above everything else, guard your heart; for it is the source of life's consequences.”~
Proverbs 4:23)

these days, good advice overnight trebles in value,
no one I’m sure has consulted Proverbs today,
not me, not you, not anybody, but these words
came to we, the confined, lonely hearted prisoners, we who

are needy to reflect, we raggedy people in solitary.

tonight, some of us will recall an exodus to free,
an escape from slavery, how we put at risk
our bodies in a sea, a desert, more crazy, in an
invisible deity, when that was a heretical concept, we who

are needy to reflect, we raggedy people in solitary.

Above everything else, guard your heart;
for it is the source of life's consequences,
the ***** above/beyond mouths, eyes, even lungs,
it’s what purposed we fragile, petal edging humans who
are needy to reflect, we raggedy people in solitary.
#poetoftheway #potw #raggedy #people #guard #your #heart
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kbww Jul 2019
Black and Blue
Kaleidoscope of energy shifts
amidst these broken bones.
Cracks let colors through in loud verses, pursing lips and urging curses to be lifted. Steady tremors act as tenors
start to bellow in this hollow chest
a mellow cushion for their
consistent shaking, breaking lines in bars
as the melody keeps playing,
off tempo and forsaken,
overlooked for what it’s worth
this curse of trembling trebles and
bounding bass. Facing fear in its space
with a forte of grace and resounding dignity flowing into me looking innocently
the eyes of nature’s demise on my life and standing tall.
Never falling when colors turn and
shift their hue, turning black and blue
to new.

~kb
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Jas Jan 2018
Butterflies do not flutter
Butterflies do not flutter in my stomach in the breath of talking to you,
instead a storm of moths rattle deep inside.
The beat of my heart doesn’t just grow in your presence,
it beats with the force of a million drummer boys on a storming day
My body does not shake when you are close,
It trebles with the intensity of a hurricane and the desire to be close to you.
Continue reading...

— The End —