Welcome newcomers! Please introduce yourself
Come on in!
Coffee & Tea under the window, platters of treats on every table
Open Mike
Poetry Night
May the 4’s be with you
Froggy Bottom Lounge: Open Mike – Poetry Night!
About The Author
katiebird
Get out of Iraq. Healthcare & a Living Wage for everyone. Two sentences: A Democratic Platform.
The sound is set up, the lights arranged, and the bar stocked.
Come on up!
Sorry, sweetie….
I couldn’t wait my lameass poems….the Hokies are down 10-0….
My first visit to the Cafe. I’ve been on BT for quite some time, but haven’t wandered into the cafe.
SO HAPPY YOU WANDERED IN!! oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to yell — bri, you are one of my favorite writers, and I appreicate all you do and am happy happy happy to see in you in cafe.
Got a poem, prayer, happy face to help the Hokies win tonight??
GO GO GOBBLERS!
Shucks. blush
Here’s a poem/song about Katrina:
Two Tales of America
Cold, alone…so afraid
Storm waves shriek with rage
That crash upon the shore
Bang down the door
Find the stairs
Water grabs from the floor
Oh to be poor
Across town
They got all they need
Pack their things and then flee
Inside their SUV
All the way to Tennessee
High and dry with friends and family
Money sets you free
Two Tales of America
One gale warns America
It’s true we are all the same
Dealt different hands in the game
that we continue to play
The wind blew the house of cards away
Will we learn or will we pay
What will tomorrow say?
Two Tales of America
One gale warns America
bri — thanks for sharing that.
I had a call from a young woman from NO this evening…I can’t write about it yet — thank you for yours.
Hi, I’ve seen you around — I’m glad you’re here. Would you like something to drink or a salty snack?
I”m a beer and chips guy…those over there would be fine.
Beer…corona is my favorite…
Hey, I’ll take the beer, too….
Here they are:
I’ve got my own opener…..
Just think of all of the free 4s you have been missing out on all this time?
Nice poem too! Thanks for sharing.
(yes, inspired by but not a ripoff of mark Knopfler….)
i love you
that means something somewhere
i don’t go to that place anymore
it’s dark and unfriendly
and it hurts my pride
the doors are all locked
with keys from outside
you need me, you said
but only in bed or maybe your head
and the dust is beginning to gather
in the room where you took me
to unfold your heart
and trach me just how to be
afriad of the dark
i want you, you said,
to stand on the stair
don’t come to me, I’ll come over there
i stood and i stood
then i couldn’t stand anymore
i left there, came here, for somewhere to hide
i love you, i said
and you locked me inside
AAARGH!
i hate having to type wha t I must speak….this line
and trach me just how to be
TEACH
so much better spoken…i am very grumpy hokies are losing
Heya Bri,
Any chance I can get a banner sometime in the near future?
I have a few other offerings from the day in the other thread. Can I crosspost or link to them?
Here’s another one anyway
BANG!
Shocked upright in bed.
Whistling wind
through my ears,
found me instead.
Heart racing seizure,
palpatations posing
prelude to panic
without relief nor cure
Fists clench sheets
dripping anxiety
soaked with shock
exhausted by repeats.
Force myself to breathe,
focus inward,
regain control
Once more if I…BANG
Searing pain stretches
my chest apart,
stabbing deeply,
penetrates my heart
Self negotiaton slowing pain,
reinforce control
I’ve done before,
A subdued child did refrain
Darkness here and nothing more,
refute the word,
repenting now,locked
behind the cellar door.
A mere child then
as much as now
ever trapped
more so than before..
Crosspost — yes, bring us everything you’ve got!
If it’s within my power, of course!
and if you were John Keats?
What would you write your ode to? (or not)
Hi everyone . . . .
I hurt my back last night & I just can’t sit at the computer any longer. I’m very, very sorry to abandon the cafe.
brinnainne, rumi — could you two co-host the cafe? It just involves serving drinks and salty snacks once in a while. And keeping the conversation going.
I’d really appreciate it.
Feel better…and thanks for the beer…
Being more musically inclined, and, most assurededly not a poet, I offer the following from my favorite poet, songwriter, performer and all-around derelict…Tom Waits:
Back in the Good Old World
When I was a boy, the moon was a pearl the sun a yellow gold.
But when I was a man, the wind blew cold the hills were upside down.
But now that I have gone from here there’s no place I’d rather be
than to float my chances on the tide Back in the good old world.
On October’s last I’ll fly back home rolling down winding way.
Scare crows are all dressed in rags out at the edge of the field I lay
and all I’ve got’s a pocket full of flowers on my grave.
Oh but summer is gone I remember it best
Back in the good old world.
“I’d rather have a bottle in front of me than a frontal lobotomy”
Peace
Excellent, dada….
–in the Pac NW at least. Here’s our year-round outdoor paradise today.
I’ll have some hot Earl Grey tea as I enjoy the offerings.
In honour of Catnip’s “Clutter Open Thread”
I think that I shall never see
A poem as lovely as CLUTTER FREE!
For those of you with a lot of junk…
Try this link:
My wife has introduced this to her daily routine (Yes, I do all of the stuff too!) and all of those really troubled spots in the house are starting to get smaller and smaller. There has been no overnight change, but I think that by the end of a few more weeks we may actually be on top of things around here, instead of buried underneath it all…
I think it actually works???
You sign up, they send you the daily Emailed instructions and, if you follow them, within a couple of weeks all of those little chores are getting to be smaller and smaller.
They kind of focus on making everything into small jobs and changing daily habits. With both my wife and I coming from a long line of “packrats” these are habits we really do need to change! lol
This is supposed to be published in a Welsh magazine this year (Linkway).
Wood on the Mall
In the strip mall development
that is middle America
a lonely sapling shoots
among broken concrete
centered in a curbed oasis
in an asphalt parking lot desert
midway between take-out pasta
and trendy café.
Maybe maple, maybe oak
as close as pop
culture can say.
It stands fresh
in grayed night
suburban breeze.
Behind the tree (birch or ash?)
young pines
a line thin forest.
Innocent majesty the wood
towers over nation
wide book chain,
hides barren inter
state ramps.
Hides too on-road old
women blazing the cement
trail in sport
Cadillac utilities.
They glance on tiny
wood and ponder
other outlet malls.
Poetry for Guy Fawkes Night:
I’m off to burn a couple effigies. Ta!
No poetry tonight, but for anyone who’s interested, I did post my Curried Chicken Rice Salad recipe over in the Clutter thread.
Got home a short while ago from dinner and a movie — if you have not yet seen “Good Night and Good Luck”, get thy arse out and see it if you can! Some very poignant parallels to what’s going on today (“Dissent does not equal disloyalty”, or whatever the exact line was); I hope that when the DVD comes out, it becomes required viewing by all future journalism students. Murrow, in his television days, was more akin to one of today’s “talking heads”, but he had no hesitation against taking on controversial issues, and he had a great staff to go and dig out the necessary information, clips, etc.
It ended with this quote from Murrow:
“This instrument can teach, it can illuminate; yes, and it can even inspire, but it can do so only to the extent that humans are determined to use it to those ends. Otherwise it is merely wires and lights in a box.”
If Murrow could see what “television journalism” has descended to, he would not weep…nay, he would rise from his grave and return to kick some ass and take names.
Hollywood could flip a firm middle finger to the neocons and Religious Reich by bestowing a few well-placed Oscars. This is truly an adult movie, not in the sense of being pornographic, but in the sense of being for adults; a movie that gets one thinking, not just staring at pretty lights on the screen.
Here endeth the movie review…