Daddy Bear

Inscrutable - a name pronounced in snowflakes swirling, then changing into teardrops twirling in the tempest's waterspout we kicked out. The thing about wielding a sword, as good as they are for protection, is we don't always reckon both sides of the blade. My Inscrutable - all my own, or kind of could be - I thought I heard her say she should be in the tick before she fled as we bled. And the thing about saving the world, as good as it is to have heroes, is the world does not always prefer to be saved. Luke and Mark and Matt and John, bless the bed she lies upon, the pillows that she cries upon, the covers she relies upon for safety when the night is long. Saints, preserve this weary one until she joins the dawn.

I call out to you... even knowing you will not answer. I beg forgiveness... even knowing you will flatly refuse. I await tomorrows... even knowing you will not be part of them. I plan my journey... even knowing you will turn your face from mine. I honor your name... even knowing you will not be pleased. I do these things... even knowing you will never again take me in your heart. And I will regret none of it on that last ever morning, because I will have loved you without cease through times when love was not the easier way.

Makes me want to hang myself, but in a good way. I was eating some leftover IHoP pancakes when I read this and my throat closed up so tight with emotion that I had to run to the fridge to wash down the clog with milk. LMAO! That's one powerful piece right there.

That's a load of monkey trumpets, strudel. I saw your latest posted work and it was damn sure no thang to peeze at. Maybe posthumously. I hear that's where the money's at.

Elegant, eloquent, excellent. I'm heartened by what sounds for all the world like progression in healing.

After reading this once, I find it necessary to avert my eyes. Its quiet horror is reminiscent of the visceral pangs evoked by Live's somber "Lightning Crashes" video, which I've always found very hard to watch.

one eye - the left - and paint is peeling half a head hits three-foot ceiling claustrophobic cedar steamer trunk magicienne, ventriloquist pretending lies were on his lips justified her lopping off a chunk good plan good act good axe good thunk she took a bow and now her dummy's junk

Deeply felt here. Give us another?

Wendy O. Williams 1949 - 1998 image removed image removed image removed Final Days (Another Angry Tribute) You were rocking in the aisle at the Perkins one night Gunpowder burns in a hot white spotlight Leaped from my seat and we danced and I knew It didn't mean a f___ing thing to you Queen of shock rock Bi-color Mohawk A pig that wears a wig Is a big blonde pig We all would eat it Everything's pretend But the animal's best friend Had nothing to defend You were rocking down in London town with Lemmy and his band But it wouldn't be your plan to "Stand By Your Man" Just a bunch of words and you laughed and they knew That nothing meant a f___ing thing to you Did you have to shoot? Did Lemmy wear a monkey suit? I wonder what you wrote In your suicide note I wouldn't read it Powder burns again Wasted in the end There's nothing to defend

"This one has The Gift."

eighty-something keys that don't work on a stolen brass ring twenty-something blackbirds in a pile but none of 'em sing a bad motor scooter that he never gonna ride somethin' ain't clickin' inside he misaligned cookie on the table with a bite taken out milk all over the floor a million-power telescooper trained at the moon he don't wanna see any more his watch, it half-stopped and his gun, it half-cocked the boy, he frozen in time he misaligned tie on straight but he neck all crooked once he had a hat but he know she took it he pushing down donuts with wine misaligned, misaligned dozen-dozen-thousand angel choir it still sound weak DJ rape Rapunzel in the tower now she don't speak Holmes look at Watson and he shake he giant head and what good a detective when you dead? malignant signs the world so fine just misaligned

Ha, don't believe the hype. I only put up this Gingerbrot-Haus to lure chubby Kinder into mein stewpot. *sharpens knives together*

Thanks, thanks and thanks. Just a hind paw note here: I can't rightly hold anyone other than myself responsible for the real-life events that spawned this little doohickey. Bears are feeling critters, though, and I definitely do feel like my heart's been swiped.

My thanks to everyone for the kind comments. I'd also like to mention that the material in post #1 is copyrighted by Syslexic Dongs Inporcorated.

Felony I never thought that I would see that kind of brazen robbery You executed perfectly A wonderment of crime Felony I lie in chains no more to be a man whose heart beats quietly And ain't that just the irony for if you brought it back to me it still would not be mine And what did you get? What did you get for your larceny? A handful of coins thirty or so bright and silvery? Did you exchange for a handful of change something more precious, my dear? For a heart can be gold but a heart can be sold and formed into rings for a nose and an ear Oh, Felony I can't describe the misery My nights alone agony I still love you, Felony So slowly goes the time.

Thanks, unabashed! The monkey should get most of the credit but I did do all of the typing myself.

Reported for flaming.

Dude, that has got to be the worst poem I've ever read. You stink with a capital 'S'.

Once upon a monkey, I had a little time. We'd speak in strange bananas as he peeled and ate a rhyme. "You're what," he late me asked one night, "a frong man, or a stool - or are you but the little girl who follows lambs to school?" "I'm so anfused," I conswered back. "My doubt is full of mind. I want to best the do I can but hard is hope to find." The chucky monkled. "It's all right, keep hollowing your feart; for though your fruit seems journeyless, you're almost to the start." "You mock me now!" I lied out croud. "A Nero I am hot!" "Oh, boysense, non," he scolded me. "That's bunch a just of rot. You need to just unclench your brain; your sphincter's in a knot!" "I stand I underthink!" I gasped. "I've been up too fartight! The more intense, the more I tense, and nothing comes out right!" "Ah, now you're talking sense, I sense; goodnight, Good Knight; goodnight." With that, he curled up in a ball and I turned out the light.

Glad you liked them, Supa. Thanks for commenting. Margin note I'd like to make known to all readers that the second piece is strictly comic relief. The story, such as there is to speak of, is fictional; I have no bitter "FU" for anyone and least of all for my ex-kitten. She gave her best, the best I've seen, under the most trying of circumstances and stuck it out for as long as she could stand.

Thank you, friends. I have another one, but I can't post another thread so soon after this one so I'll shoehorn it in here. Uhh, you kind of have to picture me strumming along on a guitar in order for it to make any sense. Flight of the Half-Conchords, if you will. F.Y.G.F.L.M.A.K.M.I.T.O. I met a girl her name was Girl she made my mind into a whirl ...ygig She had a dog his name was Cat that's short for Catherine not a thing to laugh ...at And the girl named Girl got under my skin she overtook my life 'til I wanted her Cat to be my gay dog and her to be my ...knife Up, down, all around, scooby dooby doo this verse is filler but it still sounds cool in, out, waterspout, give a dog a bone maybe I shouldn't go there So anyway it's a big heartache because she dumped me flat as a pan ...pans are pretty flat And the moral of the story in this one-minute song is really not clear 'cause it wasn't very long So I hope you liked the melody of the tune my dark side calls "F___ YOU GIRL FOR LEAVING ME AND KICKING ME IN THE ...overalls" Thank you! Goodnight!

I am not writing these words late at night 'cause I sleep like a baby and everything's sweetness and light I'm not hearing that heartbreaking song where the guy says, "Oh darling, I'm strong" and I'll get along The memory's painless when I think of your face which is nothing that special all that radiant grace... commonplace Do I fear for your safety? You know that I don't! Will loneliness drown me? I'm sure that it won't I have seventeen lovers two more in Japan so I hardly remember your name - Charlie Ann? No checking my email every hour on the hour and the lack of your soft words gives me infinite power Oh, I'm something not human my eyes are not blue they're not misting, they're sweating and for sure I'm not thinking of you Nothing was my fault my conscience is clear I would not beg forgiveness if you'd just reappear I'm better for losing and I don't need you back my door isn't open not the tiniest crack Such a happy and timely goodbye I will not, I will not cry cross my sore heart, hope to die and yes, I deny, I deny this poem's a wonderful lie

Better that every fiber crack and fury make head, blood drenching vivid couch, carpet, floor and the snake-figured almanac vouching you are a million green counties from here, than to sit mute, twitching so under * * * * * ling stars, with stare, with curse blackening the time goodbyes were said, trains let go, and I, great magnanimous fool, thus wrenched from my one kingdom.

Mother England, take me back And cradle me to stay As I've been gone four hundred years Four thousand miles away I cannot claim to know your face The memory's so dim But this true heart will leap to feel The arms that take me in Mother, Mother, though I'm a wanderer You wouldn't be left alone I ne'er forgot the way I was brought The way that would point back home I'm known to stand in New England's sand To reminisce dolefully And o'er the breeze that travels the sea To sail a son's kisses to thee At night the moon comes from the east Reflecting your sweet eyes And gentle voice that sings me rhymes And ancient lullabies For am I not that little black sheep Who'd sacrifice his wool That you could weave a blanket so warm Around us both to pull Mother, Mother, though I'm a wanderer You wouldn't be left alone I ne'er forgot the way I was brought The way that would point back home A few days more I'll linger afar But solemnly I decree One evening soon I'll saddle that moon And ride it on back to thee Dearest Mother, I will be back To cradle you and to stay No hundreds of years, no thousands of miles Can weather our love away

Baby... fight. Fight for what's rightfully yours. For the donut cake. For the satin and lace. For the platinum. For sand in your shoes as jellyfish look on powerlessly from the surf. For colorful arcs accross bathroom walls. For colorful arcs accross the sky. For cuddlathons. For Graduation Day. For Braces In The Bin Day. For Weedabix and Ricycles (sp?) For the Legoton Constabulary construction project. For the grand opening of Club Angeles. For Fudgie II. For your ear pressed against a thumping heart. For x and nom For can't-help-but-grin tuckiefests. To be watched over as you sleep. To wake to jammy sammies. For mornies eye wipes on an occupied Bad Religion t-shirt (size XL). To rub it in their effing cretinous gobs. To blaze a trail through Hell for Broski and Soapy McShroombulb. For the Hello Kitty Room (spooning optional). For a duvet tent. For a lap as a pillow and "Merry Christmas, Mr. Bean". For birthday presents under the tree. For the turkey baster (or equivalent thereof). For happy tears as she's laid in your tired arms. For sauteed placenta Alfredo (all yours, btw). To powder an ickle baby bum. To smell that silken baby hair. To smell those poo-laden nappies (size S). To smell those poo-laden nappies (size XL). To shop at Rugrat Gap. For the first day of school. For crayon art and fridge magnets. For nursery rhymes. For songs yet unwritten. For "Blood & Kisses: The Rock Opera". For Disneyland. For Burning Man. For unexpected floral bouquets. For a pram to roll through the park. For a hand to hold through the dark. For bone-melting backrubs on demand. For a tray of chicken soup and toast when you're sick in bed. For piggyback rides and similar undignified fun when you're up and around. For a pair of eyes that can see no other but you. For a scrapbook chockablock with sparkling memories. And for a million things more. Don't you give up on life now, dammit. Not with all this awaiting. Fight. I believe in you, Kittenfish. I do, I do, I do.