#1
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! Mums ! ~
*
Maybe you breathe a sigh of relief. But wait, what’s this? A quill plucks the instrument’s strings. A soundboard transports sound. You listen close to what I say. Nothing guarantees I will have the right answer before the evening closes. But ample time remains before midnight. You glance at me occasionally to acknowledge I am reading the correct score, as the pages now are gathered randomly, collected in their loose-leaf portfolio. Should we dine, I ask you sometime later? You appear not to understand me, and you return my question with a glazed expression, before you nod your head solemnly, gesturing, yes, now is a fine time to dine. You look off into the distance, ponder some thought, which, I think, may or not be related to dinner. I turn on the kitchen light, open the refrigerator door. The radishes roll out onto the floor… * _______ Blog, or dog? Who knows. But if you see my lost pup, please ping me! http://journals.aol.com/virginiaz/DreamingofLeonardo |
#2
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Perhaps you breathe a sigh of relief.
But waiting, which is this? A girl named Fern plucks the coiled cords of the instrument. A soundboard transports far, Away from the city street’s noise. You listen close To what I have said. Nothing guarantees, so thusly, I arrive. I bring you the good answer Before evening closes, myself hungry, starved for you. But know! Sufficient time remains before midnight. You throw a stern glance on me, From time to time I recognize you want me, And so, my white lily, my virtue, Corrects our Scrabble game points, my impoverished score So sorely reveals my paucity of aggression, my meager Sense of winning, my loss over the game’s objective, Other than merely to mingle together On the floor, or over the kitchen table, over warm Wine or silliness. Because the pages, My collection of words, now collected by chance, Gather in their booklet of sheet music. If for us dinner, If I ask you formerly later, will you say Yes? You seem not to include me, To not understand me, Ad you return my questions, my letters, with a frozen expression, Before you solemnly incline the head your head, Making gestures, yes, now is a pleasant time for dinner. You examine me, from a far, this distance The distance we’ve traveled from. You ponder a certain thought, which, I think, Can or not to be related to our dinner. I light The light of the kitchen, open the door of refrigerator. The radishes roll outside, On the floor... * _______ Blog, or dog? Who knows. But if you see my lost pup, please ping me! http://journals.aol.com/virginiaz/DreamingofLeonardo |
#3
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*
You ponder a certain thought, which, I think, Can or not to be related to our dinner. I light The light of the kitchen, open the door of refrigerator. The radishes roll outside, On the floor... * Perhaps you breathe an uneasy sigh. But what waits, what is this? A raster plucks out these sounds, Ropes my instrument. Our sound board transports Us beyond the noise. Company, they hear, What I am, our legend. But nothing guarantees I will half myself, heal my dividing wound, alchemize A good answer before the evening’s close. But sufficient time remains before midnight. Our company, Our audience, once more throws a pair of dice, Hoping for our paradise, our view of The Occasion Identifies to me my white lily. Another toss Of the Game of Chance, and alas, Finally, I win, score the correct points! If only because The sides, all four, gathered now outside our door, But not by coincidence. In their sheet music, Their booklet’s score, my pages They have so diligently collected, inspected, harmonized, To help me recollect. But what, O, have I Already forgotten, or have you? To collect you Now I come. If we, to evening, our Fate’s arrival know, Please, may we now eat? I require your company, As in our former times. Now, or later? You seem intent on understanding me, and you Refer to my question of you, reflect more, With a knowing expression, before you Solemnly bend your head to mind, makes gestures I only vaguely recall, but know well enough to oblige, And now you bless our pleasing time, our dinner, In order to eat together this evening. Our company, They examine us from a far, know this distance Ponders, harmonizes a certain ordained thought, Which, I think, I know, or not, but for now, it matters Not, for, only our dinner I want, in communion, Where we recollect our lost connection, where Now we gather these strands of time, tossed From the sea, washed up, now, on the sand. And I, To the end of the light, searched, finally found You standing in the kitchen, where I now see You open the door of the refrigerator. The radishes Already rolled outside, over the floor, On my soil... * _______ Blog, or dog? Who knows. But if you see my lost pup, please ping me! http://journals.aol.com/virginiaz/DreamingofLeonardo |
#4
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~ * ~
Musik der Kloester Music of the Monastaries Saint Martial de Limoges Rupertsberg Santiago de Compostela 1100 ~ 1200 Aquitanian Monasteries Alleluia! Lustus ut palma florebit Clara sonent organa O Maria, Deu maire Instrumental piece Saint Martial de Limoges Rex Salomon fecit templum Letamini plebs hodie fidelis Rupertsberg Instrumental piece Favus distillans O Ecclesia Instrumental piece Santiago de Compstela Ad superni Regis decus Exultet celi curia. Fulget dies O adiutor … Oui subvensis … Portum in ultimo Regi perhennis glorie ~ * ~ _______ Blog, or dog? Who knows. But if you see my lost pup, please ping me! http://journals.aol.com/virginiaz/DreamingofLeonardo |
#5
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Twittering One wrote: * You ponder a certain thought, which, I think, Can or not to be related to our dinner. I light The light of the kitchen, open the door of refrigerator. The radishes roll outside, On the floor... I open the door of my refrigerator, and it is empty! Not even radishes are there. I't cold and rainy; I don't want to go out. Where did I put that pizza order menu? Double-A |
#6
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*
Living with the carnival, long ago Lost, I, a White Lily, thread the crowd. The wild music, The forest, encourages my alchemy, my music, Makes my curiosity hold hands with my prudence. My body’s moisture condenses my desire. Black starts to throw off his clothing. The Topics, The Labors, The Hours Consider sounds echoing beyond the complex completion, The Competition, The Demonstration of Dark And impermeable wood ~ Black leans on the brass balustrades, Writes poems on the wall, Sipping his brew. Primitivism stokes, strokes, And ignites a fire. Carolers de Chorus, signifiers De personal obsession, queue apart from the door, Clearly conscious, their flamboyance owing To the fact that, the interior, the light turns The right line. Each anima maintained here, Every animas only founded upon provision ~ Of the effervescent effects affecting transport By The Intermediary, a subtle leer, a sharper argument Leveled harshly with a calculator. A fixed glaze Functions to gild the lily, foils transparency Back until so much design again melts Into the fact. A second’s wrapping hand Rebuilds, launches a simple knowledge, Banks a code of formal operations, until the second Second hand’s revolution recounts the first. A clutter of toys multiply my figurations. Our festive trifles joke and joke their questing way, agreed They already are in spirit. A costume dreams catalogues Of our shared inspiration. Now, the impatient one, I Brush my object’s finish, light the vapor of superb realism. These galleries connect our names toward The unknown Master, where Beauty serves lightening Struck, in spite of an overflowing abundance, While we fidget, fight, and flutter For a point of view. Prospect two. The Beacon of Laser arrives to Carneval late, Hesitates, Stirs up a need to generate more misty fog, Accentuates the reflexion of the reflexion. A talented Exhibitionist beseeches Brutal Symmetry, begs Her partner, Virtual Illustration, for a dance. Meanwhile, A Double behind us says, A! ~ Your Assistance-Of-camp, your notice of the invitation, I require. You, meanwhile, retire resistance, disband The quarreling band of resistance runners, Enough! This dance, only me, your partner. Black’s Ignition lights. A White Lily lights. A beacon’s Knight knows how nondefinite, fugitive, broke light Faults in the reduction of a second, a slit of an impulse, Strips two bathers to their sympathy. A symphony lights up. A surface re-reading imbues The constraint with the imprisonment. Trembling, insistent, My ambiguity yields downward for Thee ~ Our essay Of reference disguises us as something Shimmering out of the conflict when two adversaries Measure and rebound in this loveliness, A metaphorical figure ~ A Marriage, Simile And Allegory. * _______ Blog, or dog? Who knows. But if you see my lost pup, please ping me! http://journals.aol.com/virginiaz/DreamingofLeonardo |
#7
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"I open the door of my refrigerator, and it is empty!
Not even radishes are there. I't cold and rainy; I don't want to go out. Where did I put that pizza order menu?" ~ Double-A I have it over here, See? Peppers or pepperoni? Tomatos or salami? Olives, green or black? Beer or wine? Light or dark? _______ Blog, or dog? Who knows. But if you see my lost pup, please ping me! http://journals.aol.com/virginiaz/DreamingofLeonardo |
#8
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*
A metaphorical figure ~ A Marriage, Simile And Allegory. ~ * ~ The wild music of the forest lives the Wissbegierde with the caution with the Carneval, which pulls from the quantity, and encourages, to mix humidity of the bodies of the evaporation of the demand. Beginning of black, in order to throw its clothes. The materials, which were considered over the complex demonstration ~ from dark and waterproof wood outside, lean on the parapet walls from brass, written brew Sipping. This Primitivism places at the fire. Carolers of Chorus, signifiers personal frightening, queue independently of the conscious door, clearly, which is to due to the fact that, inside, light turns the good line. Love-more worth everyone, which remains maintaining here, only, justified supply, gushing effects, which concern transport over an astute persuasive power, which levels simply with a computed firm view, which function with the back to so much at the basic concept still in the fact. One second, which develops the simple introduction knowledge again, banking transactions of the revolution on the next. Dish of the toy. The representations increase. Bagatelles joke and joke their kind, which was agreed upon clothes, which were dreamed about the catalogs of the inspiration. The impatient brushes of the article terminate, the light steam of magnificent realism. These galleries connect their names toward the unknown master, struck service beauty, despite Avec Deuce Deus de Abundance, while we fight for a criterion. Perspective two. The flag of the laser moved upward of a necessity to penetrate the fog misty, stresses the consideration of the consideration. The talent asked for the brutal symmetry by the virtual illustration, double exhibitionist behind, as aide De camp of ~ nondefinite from invitation, volatility, errors in the reduction of the impulse column broke, examines two baigneurs in its sympathy. An external reading confounds the trembling obligation with the detention persistent ambiguity, those down for the simple ~ the reference, as something was disguised over shimmering outside of the abstract conflict, if two opponents reflect to measure and into this loveliness, that now retorts, answers. * _______ Blog, or dog? Who knows. But if you see my lost pup, please ping me! http://journals.aol.com/virginiaz/DreamingofLeonardo |
#9
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Twittering One wrote: "I open the door of my refrigerator, and it is empty! Not even radishes are there. I't cold and rainy; I don't want to go out. Where did I put that pizza order menu?" ~ Double-A I have it over here, See? Peppers or pepperoni? Tomatos or salami? Olives, green or black? Beer or wine? Light or dark? A pizza, yes, I'll order then And big enough for two? We'll eat it here within my den With lots of frothy brew. What kind? No need to argue now, A combo, what the hell. With toppings plenty to allow To customize it well. So sit and eat and sip with cheer, You might as well you know. And fill your empty moments here, While waiting for Godot. Dobule-A |
#10
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Double-A wrote: Twittering One wrote: "I open the door of my refrigerator, and it is empty! Not even radishes are there. I't cold and rainy; I don't want to go out. Where did I put that pizza order menu?" ~ Double-A I have it over here, See? Peppers or pepperoni? Tomatos or salami? Olives, green or black? Beer or wine? Light or dark? A pizza, yes, I'll order then And big enough for two? We'll eat it here within my den With lots of frothy brew. What kind? No need to argue now, A combo, what the hell. With toppings plenty to allow To customize it well. So sit and eat and sip with cheer, You might as well you know. And fill your empty moments here, While waiting for Godot. Dobule-A Asleep already? I just got up! Arising after sunset I see the light of a day not dead yet, But the coldness of the nighttime Reaches out to embrace a lifetime. -AA 1970 And it did! |
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! Mums ! ~ | Twittering One | Misc | 0 | January 29th 05 12:51 AM |