< kEEp iT up Sir!!! may bE mi imagination - but you'rE gEttin' bEttEr all thE tiME . . . SIR!!!

Serenity (Rescue)

i hear you singing
cross my heart
i feel you dreaming
i'm torn apart

teach me from the distance
touch my heart
even as i'm sinking
You take my part

tell me your reason
make me smile
i'll be here waiting
like a child


2006 d. b. michel

Thank you very much, Richard.

>You Are Very VelcoME Sir . . . though i actually didn't 'avE anything to do with thE 'crEation' of that piECE . . . ;)

JABBERWOCKY


T'was brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!"

He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought--
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.

And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!

One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.

"And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Calloh! Callay!"
He chortled in his joy.

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

by: Lewis Carroll (1832-1898)

---

“Genius is always allowed some leeway, once the hammer has been pried from its hands and the blood has been cleaned up.”
- Terry Pratchett

THE WALRUS AND THE CARPENTER

The sun was shining on the sea,
Shining with all his might;
He did his very best to make
The billows smooth and bright--
And this was odd, because it was
The middle of the night.

The moon was shining sulkily,
Because she thought the sun
Had got no business to be there
After the day was done--
"It's very rude of him," she said,
"To come and spoil the fun!"

The sea was wet as wet could be,
The sands were dry as dry.
You could not see a cloud, because
No cloud was in the sky;
No birds were flying overhead--
There were no birds to fly.

The Walrus and the Carpenter
Were walking close at hand;
They wept like anything to see
Such quantities of sand--
"If this were only cleared away,"
They said, "it would be grand!"

"If seven maids with seven mops
Swept it for half a year,
Do you suppose," the Walrus said,
"That they could get it clear?"
"I doubt it," said the Carpenter,
And shed a bitter tear.

"O Oysters, come and walk with us!"
The Walrus did beseech.
"A Pleasant walk, a pleasant talk,
Along the briny beach;
We cannot do with more than four,
To give a hand to each."

The eldest Oyster looked at him,
But never a word he said;
The eldest Oyster winked his eye,
And shook his heavy head--
Meaning to say he did not choose
To leave the oyster-bed.

But four young Oysters hurried up,
All eager for the treat;
Their coats were brushed, their faces washed,
Their shoes were clean and neat--
And this was odd, because, you know,
They hadn't any feet.

Four other Oysters followed them,
And yet another four;
And thick and fast they came at last,
And more, and more, and more--
All hopping through the frothy waves,
And scrambling to the shore.

The Walrus and the Carpenter
Walked on a mile or so,
And then they rested on a rock
Conveniently low--
And all the little Oysters stood
And waited in a row.

"The time has come," the Walrus said,
"To talk of many things:
Of shoes -- and ships -- and sealing-wax --
Of cabbages -- and kings --
And why the sea is boiling hot--
And whether pigs have wings."

"But wait a bit," the Oysters cried,
"Before we have our chat;
For some of us are out of breath,
And all of us are fat!"
"No hurry!" said the Carpenter.
They thanked him much for that.

"A loaf of bread," the Walrus said,
"Is what we chiefly need;
Pepper and vinegar besides
Are very good indeed--
Now, if you're ready, Oysters dear,
We can begin to feed."

"But not on us!" the Oysters cried,
Turning a little blue.
"After such kindness, that would be
A dismal thing to do!"
"The night is fine," the Walrus said.
"Do you admire the view?"

"It was so kind of you to come!
And you are very nice!"
The Carpenter said nothing but,
"Cut us another slice.
I wish you were not quite so deaf--
I've had to ask you twice!"

"It seems a shame," the Walrus said,
"To play them such a trick.
After we've brought them out so far,
And made them trot so quick!"
The Carpenter said nothing but,
"The butter's spread too thick!"

"I weep for you," the Walrus said;
"I deeply sympathize."
With sobs and tears he sorted out
Those of the largest size,
Holding his pocket-handkerchief
Before his streaming eyes.

"O Oysters," said the Carpenter,
"You've had a pleasant run!
Shall we be trotting home again?"
But answer came there none--
And this was scarcely odd, because
They'd eaten every one.

by: Lewis Carroll (1832-1898)

---

“Genius is always allowed some leeway, once the hammer has been pried from its hands and the blood has been cleaned up.”
- Terry Pratchett

"When Love Is Here And Now"

when love is here and now...you smile
but you'll cry if it's over
that's the difference that time can make in your life
when love is here and now...you're mine
but i'm lost if it's over
that's the way that a moment changes a life

---

PROUD TO BE TFFE!

My Country
Dorothea Mackellar



The love of field and coppice,
Of green and shaded lanes,
Of ordered woods and gardens
Is running in your veins;
Strong love of grey-blue distance,
Brown streams and soft, dim skies -
I know but cannot share it,
My love is otherwise.

I love a sunburnt country,
A land of sweeping plains,
Of ragged mountain ranges,
Of droughts and flooding rains,
I love her far horizons,
I love her jewel sea,
Her beauty and her terror -
The wide brown land for me.

The stark white ringbarked forests,
All tragic to the moon,
The saphire-misted mountains,
The hot gold hush of noon.
Green tangle of the brushes,
Where lithe lianas coil,
And orchids deck the tree-tops
And ferns the warm dark soil.

Core of my heart, my country!
Her pitiless blue sky,
When sick at heart, around us,
We see the cattle die -
But when the grey clouds gather,
And we can bless again
The drumming of an army,
The stealthy soaking rain.

Core of my heart, my country!
Land of the rainbow gold,
For flood and fire and famine,
She pays us back threefold;
Over the thirsty paddocks,
Watch, after many days,
The filmy veil of greenness
That thickens as we gaze.

An opal-hearted country,
A wilful, lavish land -
All you who have not loved her,
You will not understand -
Though earth holds many splendours,
Wherever I may die,
I know to what brown country
My homing thoughts will fly.

---

Join Calm Chaos

Sweet Confections.

What sends men sailing over turquoise seas,
Or scaling building' heights that freeze the bones
To jump through open windows in the night
And leave their gift for lovers in their flight?

What smooth and mouth-watering delectation
Has now invaded nearly every nation,
Excites the tongue - is every Sweet Tooth's saviour,
And comes in a variety of flavours?

What causes healthy teeth to rot and shudder,
And toothache thumping in the mouths of others,
And keeps keen dentists busy with their drills
And makes their wallets swell with every bill?

What delectable and devil's treat,
Enables us to keep our lives so sweet,
And tastes like heaven to the willing tongue,
And has timeless appeal for old and young?

What smooth dark sweet did Everest heroes carry,
To give them extra energy to tarry
On mountain heights and air-thin virgin dunes -
Or give them strength to withstand altitude?

Health experts continually warn
Of too much sugar in a certain form.
It is the comfort drink of fireside lovers,
And serves as a panacea for others.

So Willie Wonker's laughing from on high,
Within his candied factory in the sky.
And as he sits and counts his golden pennies,
He wonders how we do in earthly levies.

So, sweet lover, if you, whilst in flight
Leave your box of treats within my sight,
I'll stand and count to mystic number seven -
And gorge myself - at last - in chocolate heaven.

Susan.

One of my favourites is A. E. Housman. Several composers have set A Shropshire Lad to music, including George Butterworth, whose tune I always think of when reading Is my team ploughing, where the verses are spoken by alternate voices and there is a splendid windup in the final verse!

George Butterworth in Wikipedia:

In 1911 and 1912, Butterworth wrote two song cycles on Housman's poems. They are rarely performed in full today, although six of the songs are often presented together, with "Is My Team Ploughing?" being the most famous. Another, "Loveliest of Trees", is the basis for his 1912 orchestral rhapsody, also called A Shropshire Lad.

Artist: Stompin Tom Connors
Song: Margos Cargo


Have ya heard the news in Newfoundland, rollin around the rock?
How Reggie brought for Margie home a cowsee dungsee clock?
With Margie bein a farmgirl, she almost took a fit-
To find the cowsee dungsee clock was really made of it
The clock was from Toronto,and her mind was soon made up-
She said to Reggie, get the cow, and load her on the truck
We're headin for Ontaro, We're off to make 'er big-
Cause Margo's got the cargo bye and Reggie's got the rig!

Chorus:
Reggie's go the rig, Reggie's got the rig-
Margo's got the cargo bye, and Reggie's got the rig!

Now they're rollin through the maritimes, and the truck was nearly full
The cow began to ball, she was lonesome for da bull-
The mountie pulled them over, is there somethin I can do?
Go right ahead sir, Margie said, "get in the back and moo!"
Now when they got to Montreal they missed the autoroute-
But they found that everyone in town was glad to help them out-
The sooner ya hit Toronto they said, the sooner ya'll make it big-
Cause Margo got the cargo bye, and Reggie's got the rig!

Chorus:

Now the truck was overflowin when Toronto hit the rise-
The 401 was full of dung and the cab was full of flies-
We're losin lots of money Reg, We can't afford to stop-
We gotta find the place that makes the cowzee dungzee clock-
Well I wish ya coulda been there on the corner of Queen and Yonge.
When Margo found the company and she dumped her load a dung!
And when she found the office she was singin and doin a jig!
Margo's got the cargo bye's and Reggie's got the rig!

Chorus:

It was later in the evenin when they heard from Mr. Judge!
"I don't know what to give yas, but I'll never hold a grudge!"
I tink a tousand dollars would be fair to hand ya down-
And thirty days of lodging will be free upon da town!
Now Margo says to Reggie, "What a helluva deal we struck!"
"We mighta lost da cow, bye, but still we got da truck!"
And now they're back in Newfoundland,They're loadin up the the pig-
Cause Margo got da cargo, bye and Reggie's got da rig!

Repeat
Chorus:

---

DONATE TO SETI

From Without

when will my lack of faith stop burning?
bridges that have yet to be found
voices in the dark that i'm not hearing
stop me in my tracks without a sound

if i will ever be more than i've been
somehow i must start myself again
leave behind the shackles of my doubt
and let the love come in from without

---

PROUD TO BE TFFE!

I'm Better Than That (Streaming)

May you live a life so ordinary
May you die a long cold death
I could curse you in everything you do

Leave me here waiting for so long
Leave it all as it's all boarded up
These last words could be harsh and cruel

What happened did you loose your edge
What happens when you don't get mad
To come of age and the system is changed
What you're left with is always the same

And plain, and ordinary, you're just as simple
as the rest of the world

I hope you don't think you can win
I hope you know I wont lay down
I may be stunned but not for long
Go get married
Have some kids
get a house
and don't forget the mortgage
welcome to the ordinary
can you hear me?

I'm better than that

jONATHAN iAN 2000-2001.

---

"I'm trying to maintain a shred of dignity in this world." - Me

SNOW SINGER

She came singing soft and low
and brought with her the snow
When all the world stood still and white
she hung stars in the night

She took the nightwind to her breast
and taught him how to rest
She gathered up the fallen sky
and taught him how to fly

She reached her hand to touch the tree
and instead touched me
Forgetting all I knew of day
I went with her away

---

LuneKeltkar

SNOW SINGER

She came singing soft and low
and brought with her the snow
When all the world stood still and white
she hung stars in the night

She took the nightwind to her breast
and taught him how to rest
She gathered up the fallen sky
and taught him how to fly

She reached her hand to touch the tree
and instead touched me
Forgetting all I knew of day
I went with her away

That is wonderful!

---

PROUD TO BE TFFE!

Suffocating Now

It's all spoiled, bring to boil the useless toil
that you don't care to see
Sign a letter it's for the better and so we let her
and just let her be

You're suffocating now
You're gonna fall somehow
(You're gonna burn somehow)
and I'll be there watching from the other side
(And I'll be watching the smoke from the other side)

This code of ethics, i might regret it, spared dramatics
that you'll never see from me
We burn the letters, the kind forgetters, the tiny menace
are the words you hear from me

So the surface, is less than perfect, pretend it's worth it
It's all worth it to me
Tiny cracks in your back take you right off track
And that's all the better for me


Copyright jONATHAN iAN 2000-2001.

---

"I'm trying to maintain a shred of dignity in this world." - Me

Where Did Your Star Go?

where did your star go?
at the end of the night
in the lightness of morning
does it still shine as bright?
do you feel like a stranger?
wherever you light
where did your star go?
at the end of the night

(2007 db michel)

---

PROUD TO BE TFFE!

I'm Better Than That

jONATHAN,

These lyrics strike at the heart of poetry. I can't even guess the number of times that I've heard or used the phrase, "I'm better than that," but your lyrics caused me to pick up, dust off, and reconsider a phrase of the language that I had let fall into habitual use. That's the cool thing about poets, I think: They hold words to a shade of light that wouldn't normally shine in our shadows. Here's another example from your lyrics:

. . . you're just as simple
as the rest of the world

I don't mean to presume, but I always know that I've been hit with a good line of poetry when my immediate thought is, "Dang, I wish that I'd written that."

---

LuneKeltkar

Where Did Your Star Go?

where did your star go?
at the end of the night
in the lightness of morning
does it still shine as bright?
do you feel like a stranger?
wherever you light
where did your star go?
at the end of the night

(2007 db michel)

Day Dreamer

On the edge of a rainwet empty planet
he shivers
a shimmer in space-time
to all he sees
seeing only Chimaera
How comes day to him
dazed by a lone star rising?

Skylarks shiver
Silence sings where song shuddered
Naked trees, fists clenched
terrorize sparrows

Stargazer goes
good gallant man
sleeps in his empty nest
dreams of a lone star rising

[PostScript]

Daniel,

Thanks for the poetry, and thanks for this message board.

[/PostScript]

---

LuneKeltkar

Night Song

Singing in French he lightly touched my brow
As we lay in the orchard by a sleeping cow.
The moon strode the sky with a silver scow.
The dawn! The dawn! Oh God, how soon it comes.

Night without end walking the halls of space
While wild cat and the nighthawk hunted in the place.
Old owl flew the sky with a greywhite face.
The dawn! Oh God! The dawn, how soon it comes.

Eyeing the sky we shared a man-made kiss
While nightwinds sang the song of the lone serpent's hiss.
We watched a star falter and fall from bliss.
Oh God! The dawn! The dawn, how soon it comes.

From the apple trees where the dark birds sing
Came the soft singing flutter of a feathered wing
Nesting all the night with a silvered ring.
But the dawn! The dawn! Oh God, how soon it comes.

---

LuneKeltkar

I'm Better Than That

jONATHAN,

These lyrics strike at the heart of poetry. I can't even guess the number of times that I've heard or used the phrase, "I'm better than that," but your lyrics caused me to pick up, dust off, and reconsider a phrase of the language that I had let fall into habitual use. That's the cool thing about poets, I think: They hold words to a shade of light that wouldn't normally shine in our shadows. Here's another example from your lyrics:

. . . you're just as simple
as the rest of the world

I don't mean to presume, but I always know that I've been hit with a good line of poetry when my immediate thought is, "Dang, I wish that I'd written that."

Hi LuneKeltkar,

I'm not Jonathan Ian (Mathers) who wrote this lyric. Jonathan Ian is the "father" or creator of Foamy which you can find here and you can see his own site here. He has released 4 albums and some E.P.'s which you can buy from his shop or download from iTunes.

I like his songs very much, I have listened to his albums a lot since I bought them. I'm happy you like this song too.

---

"I'm trying to maintain a shred of dignity in this world." - Me

I'm Better Than That

Hi back, Fuzzy Hollynoodles,

You wrote

I'm not Jonathan Ian (Mathers) who wrote this lyric.

Well, good heavens, I should have checked your profile rather than assuming that the attribution line was a signature block. At any rate, the comments still apply to the song. I'm glad that I didn't say something really stupid, such as, "Gee, Jonathan, you really should release an album."

Best,

---

LuneKeltkar

Where Did Your Star Go?

where did your star go?
at the end of the night
in the lightness of morning
does it still shine as bright?
do you feel like a stranger?
wherever you light
where did your star go?
at the end of the night

(2007 db michel)

@ Dan - ProsE @ iT's bEst SIR . . . kEEp iT up mi friEnd ;)