Grateful Dead

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Joined: Jun 13 2007
------------------(-----@

...and there I was all curled up
in a song, remembering the words
I had etched on paper from a
summer writing I had done about
what I had done. So for sport,
today I'll type what I read...so
you can read it too.

I slipped a rolling paper from
the pack. I gently wiped the
sweat from my sweaty brow and
laid it to dry. I had some tobacco
on a tray and I spit at it for
as thou it were a blessing on it.
The dried roses in the vase had
many a thorn, I snapped one off.
I pricked my skin, like a diabetic,
to bring blood across the external
threshold that keeps me. As the
blood revealed itself I dragged the
rolling paper into it and it turned
red in spots, then, placed it to
dry. I took some time to think...
as thinking is to be. I thought
about how I was just near dead so
near dead, it was close enough to...
um yeah, I thought of good and I
thought of bad, I thought of my
favorite people that lay dead and
all the skin, unable to be. My
blue eyes filled with silky tears
I did not think but then I knew
cry into the tobacco and let it
dry. I returned hours later after
being participatory in breathing.

There was a moment to never before;
having just arrived. I picked up the
skin of now ten thousand chuckles and
bent it. I was inside and outside of
me and going to beat death one more time!

I pinched and put and winced my eye as
I rolled a cannon to point to the sky.
It was handcrafted and unique and no
one around (so to think). I evened it
out and twisted it up and with a special
kinda lick then made it stick.

To bring this one to life I had to get
my 40th Anniversary BIC lighter to bring
the flame with one special light.
I tipped up and in festive supplication
pointed it to the sky then woosh it lit.
( insert high cheeky grin). Then next
round of thoughts were so jokingly serious.

I can't forget Willie on this one so,
yeah---one for Willie!

I was take back to Rothbury when we smoked
the roses from the World Peace Roses before
the Dead started. The remorse intact that
Willie Nelson didn't get his Roses from the
World Peace Mandela Sands. I gave them to
My Uncle who was one of Willie's best fans
and he had them with him to his dying day.
My Uncle is still one of the greatest men I
have ever known. My Aunt will not let us
smoke him however. My love for him was in
those tears, he's in. I have so many beautiful
gifts to remind me of his love, we will be
forever together in spirit. He loved to smoke
Camel's til they cost ten bucks a pack in NY.

I inhaled again, sweet and tasty was I. I
exhaled and laughed with silliness; it was
innocent and robust. As I went for another
hit, I knew I had smoked myself, and that
I indeed...was good, xo!

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Joined: Jan 8 2011
. . .

Rowing Gently

I'm rowing gently down the stream
They say that life is but a dream
But where the walls come closing in
That's where the rapids begin

I feel the rushing of the stream
I hear the laughter and the screams
So hold on tight for the ride
We'll make it to the other side

I'm walking gently up the trail
Into a land of fairy-tales
A grizzly bear hands me a flower
While pointing to the Rocky towers

The trail leads up onto a Table
Where people gather telling fables
Pilgrims singing nature's song
With the Grand One looking on

Singing, I believe in your Love
I believe it's enough
Be it easy or tough
I believe in your Love

I sail a board upon the sea
The wind has come to set me free
And as I dance upon the waves
Thanksgiving washes over me

And suddenly I want to sing
I feel the wind beneath my wings
While gravity is letting go
I get the feeling that you know

That I believe in your Love
I believe it's enough
Be it easy or tough
I believe in your Love

I'm rowing gently down the stream

V1-Am-C-G-F
V2-Dm-Am-Em-F
Chorus-C-G-F

Mike Edwards's picture
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Joined: Jun 17 2007
I Met A Meta Haiku

A formal poem
Whose seasoned lines signify
Short attention span

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Joined: Jan 8 2011
a rocker

Make It Count

hot summer nights
cold winter days
sometimes I got to go out
get up above all the haze
go sliding down mountains
or floating down streams
maybe fall from the sky
through a sea of dreams

it's a once in a lifetime day today
it's a once in a lifetime day today
it's a once in a lifetime day today
so make it count

we're out on the field
playing the game
waiting for the deal
the cards are never the same
the clock is running on empty
it's hail mary time
fly with me to the end-zone
where everything is all-right

it's a once in a lifetime day today
it's a once in a lifetime day today
it's a once in a lifetime day today
let's make it count

I'd like to go back
to where it all began
kids on a slide
playing in the sand
down by the boardwalk
memories in hand
a tower has risen
celebrations are planned
and I want to be there
when it's time for the fair
dancing for freedom
wave your hands in the air

it's a once in a lifetime day today
it's a once in a lifetime day today
it's a once in a lifetime day today
go make it count

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Joined: Jun 13 2007
------------------(-----@

smell a rose with
dew dripping on red petals
open sun rises

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Joined: Jan 8 2011
a little dance number

Taking & Giving
10/18/13

I wake up and raise the shades
Is it sunny - is it grey?
Dreamland slowly fades away, into
the daily grind
I slip into my comfort zone
Check messages on the phone
Grab the keys it's time to go
Who knows what we'll find?

We're taking and giving
Making a living
We're looking for thrills
While punching the clock and paying the bills
We're out on the town
Just cruising around
The lost and the found
One big family

This life is a dance
Of time and circumstance
And taking the chance
To make somebody smile
Life's up and it's down
It's turning around
It's thorns and it's crowns
And love is a fine wine

Taking and giving
Making a living
Looking for thrills
Punching the clock and paying the bills
We're out on the town
Just cruising around
The lost and the found
One big family

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Joined: Jun 13 2007
------------------(-----@

Time unfolds
in the autumn
afternoon. The birds
are singing a
grateful song that
celebrates
this day on the Earth.

As I waited for the
next pack- pack of
wild geese flying in
formation to a different
home
an arrow head approach
that makes the traveling
easy. All knowing it's
better together.
Singing the song they sing.

Someday...

Randall Lard's picture
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Joined: Jul 30 2012
Poems

My wife with the hair of a wood fire
With the thoughts of heat lightning
With the waist of an hourglass
With the waist of an otter in the teeth of a tiger
My wife with the lips of a cockade and of a bunch of stars of the last magnitude
With the teeth of tracks of white mice on the white earth
With the tongue of rubbed amber and glass
My wife with the tongue of a stabbed host
With the tongue of a doll that opens and closes its eyes
With the tongue of an unbelievable stone
My wife with the eyelashes of strokes of a child's writing
With brows of the edge of a swallow's nest
My wife with the brow of slates of a hothouse roof
And of steam on the panes
My wife with shoulders of champagne
And of a fountain with dolphin-heads beneath the ice
My wife with wrists of matches
My wife with fingers of luck and ace of hearts
With fingers of mown hay
My wife with armpits of marten and of beechnut
And of Midsummer Night
Of privet and of an angelfish nest
With arms of seafoam and of riverlocks
And of a mingling of the wheat and the mill
My wife with legs of flares
With the movements of clockwork and despair
My wife with calves of eldertree pith
My wife with feet of initials
With feet of rings of keys and Java sparrows drinking
My wife with a neck of unpearled barley
My wife with a throat of the valley of gold
Of a tryst in the very bed of the torrent
With breasts of night
My wife with breasts of a marine molehill
My wife with breasts of the ruby's crucible
With breasts of the rose's spectre beneath the dew
My wife with the belly of an unfolding of the fan of days
With the belly of a gigantic claw
My wife with the back of a bird fleeing vertically
With a back of quicksilver
With a back of light
With a nape of rolled stone and wet chalk
And of the drop of a glass where one has just been drinking
My wife with hips of a skiff
With hips of a chandelier and of arrow-feathers
And of shafts of white peacock plumes
Of an insensible pendulum
My wife with buttocks of sandstone and asbestos
My wife with buttocks of swans' backs
My wife with buttocks of spring
With the sex of an iris
My wife with the sex of a mining-placer and of a platypus
My wife with a sex of seaweed and ancient sweetmeat
My wife with a sex of mirror
My wife with eyes full of tears
With eyes of purple panoply and of a magnetic needle
My wife with savanna eyes
My wife with eyes of water to he drunk in prison
My wife with eyes of wood always under the axe
My wife with eyes of water-level of level of air earth and fire

- André Breton

Anna rRxia's picture
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Joined: Dec 25 2009
Autumn

Still warm at the beach
Walking a five mile crescent
Labor Day leaves a few

Anna rRxia's picture
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Joined: Dec 25 2009
love it

mike!

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