Kevin's Watch

This is the Infinity Poem- a poem that will live forever. Please, keep adding new parts to it so this poem never ends and may never be stopped.

Taking Friendship to the Next Level
A poem
By babybottomfeeder, sgt.null, and Lord Foul


I thought about those stars and I was pretty sure I was looking at the same one, from the picture in the music book. I thought about people looking at those stars a hundred years ago and two hundred years ago and maybe thousands of years ago and I felt free from the time I am in and the body laying on the roof and the freedom.

II.

thought about those
stars and I was pretty
sure I was looking at
the same ones, from
the picture in the music
book. I thought about
people looking at those
stars a hundred years
ago and two hundred
years ago and maybe
thousands of years ago
and I felt free from the
time I am in and the
body laying on the
roof and the freedom.

Reduce spin by half
and your theory fits
perfectly in a regard.
Although this statement
is vague, we will not
need to be specific. We
will grind more. You tell
us this is odd (essentially
unique) Induce a map
from the lies. Ultimately
this is a question of
definition. Time is the
necessary further delay.
And now the punchline:
You are defined by the
relationship: in a sense,
in contrast. Because now
something curious appears.

III.

O blessed stars,
How did thy sprites
Amass these limbs
Of thought and movement?
What secret wealth
Does thy light portend

Jettison cool afterthoughts;
Know now the day, its
Lurking reason, creased bright

Here strides illusion
And alteration—words
Left useless
And unspoken

Words—known
Then and you will know them
Now and know—
Know what
Has fallen and how
It will begin and that the fallen
Has begun again and
What has fallen has
Already begun

The Gods have multiplied
In the vast, tractable depths
Of unsowed black,
Where no silence ascends

But the thought that there should be
Sound to know that there is silence

(um... actually the first stanza is a line from my story, "The Roof". I love what you've done with it! Are others invited to add, and is it something culled from something in the HoG?)

Taking Friendship to the Next Level
A poem
By babybottomfeeder, sgt.null, and Lord Foul


I thought about those stars and I was pretty sure I was looking at the same one, from the picture in the music book. I thought about people looking at those stars a hundred years ago and two hundred years ago and maybe thousands of years ago and I felt free from the time I am in and the body laying on the roof and the freedom.

II.

thought about those
stars and I was pretty
sure I was looking at
the same ones, from
the picture in the music
book. I thought about
people looking at those
stars a hundred years
ago and two hundred
years ago and maybe
thousands of years ago
and I felt free from the
time I am in and the
body laying on the
roof and the freedom.

Reduce spin by half
and your theory fits
perfectly in a regard.
Although this statement
is vague, we will not
need to be specific. We
will grind more. You tell
us this is odd (essentially
unique) Induce a map
from the lies. Ultimately
this is a question of
definition. Time is the
necessary further delay.
And now the punchline:
You are defined by the
relationship: in a sense,
in contrast. Because now
something curious appears.

III.

O blessed stars,
How did thy sprites
Amass these limbs
Of thought and movement?
What secret wealth
Does thy light portend

Jettison cool afterthoughts;
Know now the day, its
Lurking reason, creased bright

Here strides illusion
And alteration—words
Left useless
And unspoken

Words—known
Then and you will know them
Now and know—
Know what
Has fallen and how
It will begin and that the fallen
Has begun again and
What has fallen has
Already begun

The Gods have multiplied
In the vast, tractable depths
Of unsowed black,
Where no silence ascends

But the thought that there should be
Sound to know that there is silence

IV

there are no gum-boots
to fit even the least among...

if i held forth, even by a
third, in a second would
you take first in my heart?

Taking Friendship to the Next Level
A poem
By babybottomfeeder, sgt.null, and Lord Foul


I thought about those stars and I was pretty sure I was looking at the same one, from the picture in the music book. I thought about people looking at those stars a hundred years ago and two hundred years ago and maybe thousands of years ago and I felt free from the time I am in and the body laying on the roof and the freedom.

II.

thought about those
stars and I was pretty
sure I was looking at
the same ones, from
the picture in the music
book. I thought about
people looking at those
stars a hundred years
ago and two hundred
years ago and maybe
thousands of years ago
and I felt free from the
time I am in and the
body laying on the
roof and the freedom.

Reduce spin by half
and your theory fits
perfectly in a regard.
Although this statement
is vague, we will not
need to be specific. We
will grind more. You tell
us this is odd (essentially
unique) Induce a map
from the lies. Ultimately
this is a question of
definition. Time is the
necessary further delay.
And now the punchline:
You are defined by the
relationship: in a sense,
in contrast. Because now
something curious appears.

III.

O blessed stars,
How did thy sprites
Amass these limbs
Of thought and movement?
What secret wealth
Does thy light portend

Jettison cool afterthoughts;
Know now the day, its
Lurking reason, creased bright

Here strides illusion
And alteration—words
Left useless
And unspoken

Words—known
Then and you will know them
Now and know—
Know what
Has fallen and how
It will begin and that the fallen
Has begun again and
What has fallen has
Already begun

The Gods have multiplied
In the vast, tractable depths
Of unsowed black,
Where no silence ascends

But the thought that there should be
Sound to know that there is silence

IV

there are no gum-boots
to fit even the least among...

if i held forth, even by a
third, in a second would
you take first in my heart?

V

There is a ripple
on the mirrored surface
And the puddle muddied
beyond recall.

There the drop from your heart
fell and osmosis began...
There irrecoverable the frozen solitude
of winter night black sky,
The chillblain fear of shadows.

There begins.
Begins the azure,
begins the zephyr,
A drop is now a wave, sshhhwwwhhh.

Seashells? Bladder-wrack?
The taste of salt foreshadows tears to come
But now the sand is warm and shoulders bare.

Taking Friendship to the Next Level
A poem
By babybottomfeeder, sgt.null, Lord Foul & Deer of the Dawn

I.

I thought about those stars and I was pretty sure I was looking at the same ones, from the picture in the music book. I thought about people looking at those stars a hundred years ago and two hundred years ago and maybe thousands of years ago and I felt free from the time I am in and the body laying on the roof and the freedom.

II.

thought about those
stars and I was pretty
sure I was looking at
the same ones, from
the picture in the music
book. I thought about
people looking at those
stars a hundred years
ago and two hundred
years ago and maybe
thousands of years ago
and I felt free from the
time I am in and the
body laying on the
roof and the freedom.

Reduce spin by half
and your theory fits
perfectly in a regard.
Although this statement
is vague, we will not
need to be specific. We
will grind more. You tell
us this is odd (essentially
unique) Induce a map
from the lies. Ultimately
this is a question of
definition. Time is the
necessary further delay.
And now the punchline:
You are defined by the
relationship: in a sense,
in contrast. Because now
something curious appears.

III.

O blessed stars,
How did thy sprites
Amass these limbs
Of thought and movement?
What secret wealth
Does thy light portend

Jettison cool afterthoughts;
Know now the day, its
Lurking reason, creased bright

Here strides illusion
And alteration—words
Left useless
And unspoken

Words—known
Then and you will know them
Now and know—
Know what
Has fallen and how
It will begin and that the fallen
Has begun again and
What has fallen has
Already begun

The Gods have multiplied
In the vast, tractable depths
Of unsowed black,
Where no silence ascends

But the thought that there should be
Sound to know that there is silence

IV

there are no gum-boots
to fit even the least among...

if i held forth, even by a
third, in a second would
you take first in my heart?

V

There is a ripple
on the mirrored surface
And the puddle muddied
beyond recall.

There the drop from your heart
fell and osmosis began...
There irrecoverable the frozen solitude
of winter night black sky,
The chillblain fear of shadows.

There begins.
Begins the azure,
begins the zephyr,
A drop is now a wave, sshhhwwwhhh.

Seashells? Bladder-wrack?
The taste of salt foreshadows tears to come
But now the sand is warm and shoulders bare.

VII

the reverse of the curse
carried by empty planes
carrying plain, white wrappers.
it's a holiday, so remember
to write home and right wrongs,
long left to fester, not so
festive in design or our minds...

Taking Friendship to the Next Level
A poem
By babybottomfeeder, sgt.null, Lord Foul & Deer of the Dawn

I.

I thought about those stars and I was pretty sure I was looking at the same ones, from the picture in the music book. I thought about people looking at those stars a hundred years ago and two hundred years ago and maybe thousands of years ago and I felt free from the time I am in and the body laying on the roof and the freedom.

II.

thought about those
stars and I was pretty
sure I was looking at
the same ones, from
the picture in the music
book. I thought about
people looking at those
stars a hundred years
ago and two hundred
years ago and maybe
thousands of years ago
and I felt free from the
time I am in and the
body laying on the
roof and the freedom.

Reduce spin by half
and your theory fits
perfectly in a regard.
Although this statement
is vague, we will not
need to be specific. We
will grind more. You tell
us this is odd (essentially
unique) Induce a map
from the lies. Ultimately
this is a question of
definition. Time is the
necessary further delay.
And now the punchline:
You are defined by the
relationship: in a sense,
in contrast. Because now
something curious appears.

III.

O blessed stars,
How did thy sprites
Amass these limbs
Of thought and movement?
What secret wealth
Does thy light portend

Jettison cool afterthoughts;
Know now the day, its
Lurking reason, creased bright

Here strides illusion
And alteration—words
Left useless
And unspoken

Words—known
Then and you will know them
Now and know—
Know what
Has fallen and how
It will begin and that the fallen
Has begun again and
What has fallen has
Already begun

The Gods have multiplied
In the vast, tractable depths
Of unsowed black,
Where no silence ascends

But the thought that there should be
Sound to know that there is silence

IV

there are no gum-boots
to fit even the least among...

if i held forth, even by a
third, in a second would
you take first in my heart?

V

There is a ripple
on the mirrored surface
And the puddle muddied
beyond recall.

There the drop from your heart
fell and osmosis began...
There irrecoverable the frozen solitude
of winter night black sky,
The chillblain fear of shadows.

There begins.
Begins the azure,
begins the zephyr,
A drop is now a wave, sshhhwwwhhh.

Seashells? Bladder-wrack?
The taste of salt foreshadows tears to come
But now the sand is warm and shoulders bare.

VII

the reverse of the curse
carried by empty planes
carrying plain, white wrappers.
it's a holiday, so remember
to write home and right wrongs,
long left to fester, not so
festive in design or our minds...

VII

Next level.
Is this all there is?

All there is.
Stars white laddered into infinite black
Unknown to any but
The one who knows their names,
Who knows my name.

Who knows my name?
If I could only remember.

But you.
You know my name.
More than that.
You know the taste of the inside of my mouth.
You know the scent behind my ears.
You know the curve of my collarbone,
The weight of my leg,
The touch of the ball of my foot,
What my level best looks like.

Taking Friendship to the Next Level

A poem
By babybottomfeeder, sgt.null, Lord Foul & Deer of the Dawn

I.

I thought about those stars and I was pretty sure I was looking at the same ones, from the picture in the music book. I thought about people looking at those stars a hundred years ago and two hundred years ago and maybe thousands of years ago and I felt free from the time I am in and the body laying on the roof and the freedom.

II.

thought about those
stars and I was pretty
sure I was looking at
the same ones, from
the picture in the music
book. I thought about
people looking at those
stars a hundred years
ago and two hundred
years ago and maybe
thousands of years ago
and I felt free from the
time I am in and the
body laying on the
roof and the freedom.

Reduce spin by half
and your theory fits
perfectly in a regard.
Although this statement
is vague, we will not
need to be specific. We
will grind more. You tell
us this is odd (essentially
unique) Induce a map
from the lies. Ultimately
this is a question of
definition. Time is the
necessary further delay.
And now the punchline:
You are defined by the
relationship: in a sense,
in contrast. Because now
something curious appears.

III.

O blessed stars,
How did thy sprites
Amass these limbs
Of thought and movement?
What secret wealth
Does thy light portend

Jettison cool afterthoughts;
Know now the day, its
Lurking reason, creased bright

Here strides illusion
And alteration—words
Left useless
And unspoken

Words—known
Then and you will know them
Now and know—
Know what
Has fallen and how
It will begin and that the fallen
Has begun again and
What has fallen has
Already begun

The Gods have multiplied
In the vast, tractable depths
Of unsowed black,
Where no silence ascends

But the thought that there should be
Sound to know that there is silence

IV

there are no gum-boots
to fit even the least among...

if i held forth, even by a
third, in a second would
you take first in my heart?

V

There is a ripple
on the mirrored surface
And the puddle muddied
beyond recall.

There the drop from your heart
fell and osmosis began...
There irrecoverable the frozen solitude
of winter night black sky,
The chillblain fear of shadows.

There begins.
Begins the azure,
begins the zephyr,
A drop is now a wave, sshhhwwwhhh.

Seashells? Bladder-wrack?
The taste of salt foreshadows tears to come
But now the sand is warm and shoulders bare.

VII

the reverse of the curse
carried by empty planes
carrying plain, white wrappers.
it's a holiday, so remember
to write home and right wrongs,
long left to fester, not so
festive in design or our minds...

VII

Next level.
Is this all there is?

All there is.
Stars white laddered into infinite black
Unknown to any but
The one who knows their names,
Who knows my name.

Who knows my name?
If I could only remember.

But you.
You know my name.
More than that.
You know the taste of the inside of my mouth.
You know the scent behind my ears.
You know the curve of my collarbone,
The weight of my leg,
The touch of the ball of my foot,
What my level best looks like.

VIII

Ode to the Langoustines

floor laminate - we know the
drill, even when feeling ill...
three gallons fixed for three
galleons, whistles and irate
pirates. hungry ceiling fans
littered among the bitter house
mates, each clinging to fate.
men had moxie then, so who
added the photos? damn city
going to catch on fire, broil
in oil those tasty treats, please
go ahead and eat, my treat...

Taking Friendship to the Next Level

A poem
By babybottomfeeder, sgt.null, Lord Foul & Deer of the Dawn

I.

I thought about those stars and I was pretty sure I was looking at the same ones, from the picture in the music book. I thought about people looking at those stars a hundred years ago and two hundred years ago and maybe thousands of years ago and I felt free from the time I am in and the body laying on the roof and the freedom.

II.

thought about those
stars and I was pretty
sure I was looking at
the same ones, from
the picture in the music
book. I thought about
people looking at those
stars a hundred years
ago and two hundred
years ago and maybe
thousands of years ago
and I felt free from the
time I am in and the
body laying on the
roof and the freedom.

Reduce spin by half
and your theory fits
perfectly in a regard.
Although this statement
is vague, we will not
need to be specific. We
will grind more. You tell
us this is odd (essentially
unique) Induce a map
from the lies. Ultimately
this is a question of
definition. Time is the
necessary further delay.
And now the punchline:
You are defined by the
relationship: in a sense,
in contrast. Because now
something curious appears.

III.

O blessed stars,
How did thy sprites
Amass these limbs
Of thought and movement?
What secret wealth
Does thy light portend

Jettison cool afterthoughts;
Know now the day, its
Lurking reason, creased bright

Here strides illusion
And alteration—words
Left useless
And unspoken

Words—known
Then and you will know them
Now and know—
Know what
Has fallen and how
It will begin and that the fallen
Has begun again and
What has fallen has
Already begun

The Gods have multiplied
In the vast, tractable depths
Of unsowed black,
Where no silence ascends

But the thought that there should be
Sound to know that there is silence

IV

there are no gum-boots
to fit even the least among...

if i held forth, even by a
third, in a second would
you take first in my heart?

V

There is a ripple
on the mirrored surface
And the puddle muddied
beyond recall.

There the drop from your heart
fell and osmosis began...
There irrecoverable the frozen solitude
of winter night black sky,
The chillblain fear of shadows.

There begins.
Begins the azure,
begins the zephyr,
A drop is now a wave, sshhhwwwhhh.

Seashells? Bladder-wrack?
The taste of salt foreshadows tears to come
But now the sand is warm and shoulders bare.

VII

the reverse of the curse
carried by empty planes
carrying plain, white wrappers.
it's a holiday, so remember
to write home and right wrongs,
long left to fester, not so
festive in design or our minds...

VII

Next level.
Is this all there is?

All there is.
Stars white laddered into infinite black
Unknown to any but
The one who knows their names,
Who knows my name.

Who knows my name?
If I could only remember.

But you.
You know my name.
More than that.
You know the taste of the inside of my mouth.
You know the scent behind my ears.
You know the curve of my collarbone,
The weight of my leg,
The touch of the ball of my foot,
What my level best looks like.

VIII

Ode to the Langoustines

floor laminate - we know the
drill, even when feeling ill...
three gallons fixed for three
galleons, whistles and irate
pirates. hungry ceiling fans
littered among the bitter house
mates, each clinging to fate.
men had moxie then, so who
added the photos? damn city
going to catch on fire, broil
in oil those tasty treats, please
go ahead and eat, my treat...

No. 9

red fish caught, ought
to know his ending. he
sought escape & relief
form the un-ending inky
black blackness that was
his only (lonely) world.
until he sought the light
at the edge of the depth,
the net he met that ended...

Taking Friendship to the Next Level

A poem
By babybottomfeeder, sgt.null, Lord Foul, Mrs.Null & Deer of the Dawn

I.

I thought about those stars and I was pretty sure I was looking at the same ones, from the picture in the music book. I thought about people looking at those stars a hundred years ago and two hundred years ago and maybe thousands of years ago and I felt free from the time I am in and the body laying on the roof and the freedom.

II.

thought about those
stars and I was pretty
sure I was looking at
the same ones, from
the picture in the music
book. I thought about
people looking at those
stars a hundred years
ago and two hundred
years ago and maybe
thousands of years ago
and I felt free from the
time I am in and the
body laying on the
roof and the freedom.

Reduce spin by half
and your theory fits
perfectly in a regard.
Although this statement
is vague, we will not
need to be specific. We
will grind more. You tell
us this is odd (essentially
unique) Induce a map
from the lies. Ultimately
this is a question of
definition. Time is the
necessary further delay.
And now the punchline:
You are defined by the
relationship: in a sense,
in contrast. Because now
something curious appears.

III.

O blessed stars,
How did thy sprites
Amass these limbs
Of thought and movement?
What secret wealth
Does thy light portend

Jettison cool afterthoughts;
Know now the day, its
Lurking reason, creased bright

Here strides illusion
And alteration—words
Left useless
And unspoken

Words—known
Then and you will know them
Now and know—
Know what
Has fallen and how
It will begin and that the fallen
Has begun again and
What has fallen has
Already begun

The Gods have multiplied
In the vast, tractable depths
Of unsowed black,
Where no silence ascends

But the thought that there should be
Sound to know that there is silence

IV

there are no gum-boots
to fit even the least among...

if i held forth, even by a
third, in a second would
you take first in my heart?

V

There is a ripple
on the mirrored surface
And the puddle muddied
beyond recall.

There the drop from your heart
fell and osmosis began...
There irrecoverable the frozen solitude
of winter night black sky,
The chillblain fear of shadows.

There begins.
Begins the azure,
begins the zephyr,
A drop is now a wave, sshhhwwwhhh.

Seashells? Bladder-wrack?
The taste of salt foreshadows tears to come
But now the sand is warm and shoulders bare.

VII

the reverse of the curse
carried by empty planes
carrying plain, white wrappers.
it's a holiday, so remember
to write home and right wrongs,
long left to fester, not so
festive in design or our minds...

VII

Next level.
Is this all there is?

All there is.
Stars white laddered into infinite black
Unknown to any but
The one who knows their names,
Who knows my name.

Who knows my name?
If I could only remember.

But you.
You know my name.
More than that.
You know the taste of the inside of my mouth.
You know the scent behind my ears.
You know the curve of my collarbone,
The weight of my leg,
The touch of the ball of my foot,
What my level best looks like.

VIII

Ode to the Langoustines

floor laminate - we know the
drill, even when feeling ill...
three gallons fixed for three
galleons, whistles and irate
pirates. hungry ceiling fans
littered among the bitter house
mates, each clinging to fate.
men had moxie then, so who
added the photos? damn city
going to catch on fire, broil
in oil those tasty treats, please
go ahead and eat, my treat...

No. 9

red fish caught, ought
to know his ending. he
sought escape & relief
form the un-ending inky
black blackness that was
his only (lonely) world.
until he sought the light
at the edge of the depth,
the net he met that ended...

X

Redfish
Bluefish
Snapper
Swordfish
Jesus was a carpenter
who lived by the sea.
He broke bread for thousands
but took time to fish for me.

(cont'd...)

11
The light at the edge of the water
Golden, with a black-spotted
frog suspended in glory- for a moment then jump
with a skip of my tiny heart.

So insubstantial is the net we're alluding to.

It was also in the tautness of the sun-washed sails
The red glance of the American Robin, returned
The hissing trees bent under storm winds

A net that took years to mend
So the fish could hang suspended also
in golden light
at the edge

Taking Friendship to the Next Level

A poem
By babybottomfeeder, sgt.null, Lord Foul, Mrs.Null & Deer of the Dawn

I.

I thought about those stars and I was pretty sure I was looking at the same ones, from the picture in the music book. I thought about people looking at those stars a hundred years ago and two hundred years ago and maybe thousands of years ago and I felt free from the time I am in and the body laying on the roof and the freedom.

II.

thought about those
stars and I was pretty
sure I was looking at
the same ones, from
the picture in the music
book. I thought about
people looking at those
stars a hundred years
ago and two hundred
years ago and maybe
thousands of years ago
and I felt free from the
time I am in and the
body laying on the
roof and the freedom.

Reduce spin by half
and your theory fits
perfectly in a regard.
Although this statement
is vague, we will not
need to be specific. We
will grind more. You tell
us this is odd (essentially
unique) Induce a map
from the lies. Ultimately
this is a question of
definition. Time is the
necessary further delay.
And now the punchline:
You are defined by the
relationship: in a sense,
in contrast. Because now
something curious appears.

III.

O blessed stars,
How did thy sprites
Amass these limbs
Of thought and movement?
What secret wealth
Does thy light portend

Jettison cool afterthoughts;
Know now the day, its
Lurking reason, creased bright

Here strides illusion
And alteration—words
Left useless
And unspoken

Words—known
Then and you will know them
Now and know—
Know what
Has fallen and how
It will begin and that the fallen
Has begun again and
What has fallen has
Already begun

The Gods have multiplied
In the vast, tractable depths
Of unsowed black,
Where no silence ascends

But the thought that there should be
Sound to know that there is silence

IV

there are no gum-boots
to fit even the least among...

if i held forth, even by a
third, in a second would
you take first in my heart?

V

There is a ripple
on the mirrored surface
And the puddle muddied
beyond recall.

There the drop from your heart
fell and osmosis began...
There irrecoverable the frozen solitude
of winter night black sky,
The chillblain fear of shadows.

There begins.
Begins the azure,
begins the zephyr,
A drop is now a wave, sshhhwwwhhh.

Seashells? Bladder-wrack?
The taste of salt foreshadows tears to come
But now the sand is warm and shoulders bare.

VII

the reverse of the curse
carried by empty planes
carrying plain, white wrappers.
it's a holiday, so remember
to write home and right wrongs,
long left to fester, not so
festive in design or our minds...

VII

Next level.
Is this all there is?

All there is.
Stars white laddered into infinite black
Unknown to any but
The one who knows their names,
Who knows my name.

Who knows my name?
If I could only remember.

But you.
You know my name.
More than that.
You know the taste of the inside of my mouth.
You know the scent behind my ears.
You know the curve of my collarbone,
The weight of my leg,
The touch of the ball of my foot,
What my level best looks like.

VIII

Ode to the Langoustines

floor laminate - we know the
drill, even when feeling ill...
three gallons fixed for three
galleons, whistles and irate
pirates. hungry ceiling fans
littered among the bitter house
mates, each clinging to fate.
men had moxie then, so who
added the photos? damn city
going to catch on fire, broil
in oil those tasty treats, please
go ahead and eat, my treat...

No. 9

red fish caught, ought
to know his ending. he
sought escape & relief
form the un-ending inky
black blackness that was
his only (lonely) world.
until he sought the light
at the edge of the depth,
the net he met that ended...

X

Redfish
Bluefish
Snapper
Swordfish
Jesus was a carpenter
who lived by the sea.
He broke bread for thousands
but took time to fish for me.


(cont'd...)

11
The light at the edge of the water
Golden, with a black-spotted
frog suspended in glory- for a moment then jump
with a skip of my tiny heart.

So insubstantial is the net we're alluding to.

It was also in the tautness of the sun-washed sails
The red glance of the American Robin, returned
The hissing trees bent under storm winds

A net that took years to mend
So the fish could hang suspended also
in golden light
at the edge

XII

time I lay down,
leave my burdens
behind. won't you
join me please?
a place where the
sun shines bright
and grass grows
long. streams run
cold. a place we
can grow old.......

Taking Friendship to the Next Level

A poem
By babybottomfeeder, sgt.null, Lord Foul, Mrs.Null & Deer of the Dawn


I.

I thought about those stars and I was pretty sure I was looking at the same ones, from the picture in the music book. I thought about people looking at those stars a hundred years ago and two hundred years ago and maybe thousands of years ago and I felt free from the time I am in and the body laying on the roof and the freedom.

II.

thought about those
stars and I was pretty
sure I was looking at
the same ones, from
the picture in the music
book. I thought about
people looking at those
stars a hundred years
ago and two hundred
years ago and maybe
thousands of years ago
and I felt free from the
time I am in and the
body laying on the
roof and the freedom.

Reduce spin by half
and your theory fits
perfectly in a regard.
Although this statement
is vague, we will not
need to be specific. We
will grind more. You tell
us this is odd (essentially
unique) Induce a map
from the lies. Ultimately
this is a question of
definition. Time is the
necessary further delay.
And now the punchline:
You are defined by the
relationship: in a sense,
in contrast. Because now
something curious appears.

III.

O blessed stars,
How did thy sprites
Amass these limbs
Of thought and movement?
What secret wealth
Does thy light portend

Jettison cool afterthoughts;
Know now the day, its
Lurking reason, creased bright

Here strides illusion
And alteration—words
Left useless
And unspoken

Words—known
Then and you will know them
Now and know—
Know what
Has fallen and how
It will begin and that the fallen
Has begun again and
What has fallen has
Already begun

The Gods have multiplied
In the vast, tractable depths
Of unsowed black,
Where no silence ascends

But the thought that there should be
Sound to know that there is silence

IV

there are no gum-boots
to fit even the least among...

if i held forth, even by a
third, in a second would
you take first in my heart?

V

There is a ripple
on the mirrored surface
And the puddle muddied
beyond recall.

There the drop from your heart
fell and osmosis began...
There irrecoverable the frozen solitude
of winter night black sky,
The chillblain fear of shadows.

There begins.
Begins the azure,
begins the zephyr,
A drop is now a wave, sshhhwwwhhh.

Seashells? Bladder-wrack?
The taste of salt foreshadows tears to come
But now the sand is warm and shoulders bare.

VII

the reverse of the curse
carried by empty planes
carrying plain, white wrappers.
it's a holiday, so remember
to write home and right wrongs,
long left to fester, not so
festive in design or our minds...

VII

Next level.
Is this all there is?

All there is.
Stars white laddered into infinite black
Unknown to any but
The one who knows their names,
Who knows my name.

Who knows my name?
If I could only remember.

But you.
You know my name.
More than that.
You know the taste of the inside of my mouth.
You know the scent behind my ears.
You know the curve of my collarbone,
The weight of my leg,
The touch of the ball of my foot,
What my level best looks like.

VIII

Ode to the Langoustines

floor laminate - we know the
drill, even when feeling ill...
three gallons fixed for three
galleons, whistles and irate
pirates. hungry ceiling fans
littered among the bitter house
mates, each clinging to fate.
men had moxie then, so who
added the photos? damn city
going to catch on fire, broil
in oil those tasty treats, please
go ahead and eat, my treat...

No. 9

red fish caught, ought
to know his ending. he
sought escape & relief
form the un-ending inky
black blackness that was
his only (lonely) world.
until he sought the light
at the edge of the depth,
the net he met that ended...

X

Redfish
Bluefish
Snapper
Swordfish
Jesus was a carpenter
He broke bread for thousands
but took time to fish for me.

(cont'd...)

11
The light at the edge of the water
Golden, with a black-spotted
frog suspended in glory- for a moment then jump
with a skip of my tiny heart.

So insubstantial is the net we're alluding to.

It was also in the tautness of the sun-washed sails
The red glance of the American Robin, returned
The hissing trees bent under storm winds

A net that took years to mend
So the fish could hang suspended also
in golden light
at the edge


XII

time I lay down,
leave my burdens
behind. won't you
join me please?
a place where the
sun shines bright
and grass grows
long. streams run
cold. a place we
can grow old.......


XIII

when the dreams eventually came back
fast asleep in some different city
having dined with different people
of a different air under different weather

twisting and turning come daybreak
unlike before, you were not about to leave
unlike before, nobody lurking in wait
by the kitchen door, waiting to carry your bags

but waking up to a foreign, different future
differently grey, differently daunting now
you were to stay forever behind, in my reverie
and unlike before, no longer asleep at my side

XIV
This too, a net that draws me under
murky are the depths
where motes dance in brilliance
and sink into shadow...

so is my backward glance
never quite meeting your eyes
but remembering how sunlight
glared on our tangled shoulders

and I am here and you
are

Ooh, editing comment for if anyone else does a giant re-post:
These lines need to be removed from the end of verse 11 and put back at the end of verse 10:

"He broke bread for thousands
but took time to fish for me. "

Good catch Linna (pun intended, ). Since I am mod of this forum I was able to correct the posts themselves. Thanks. Now how about a contribution...

Taking Friendship to the Next Level

A poem
By babybottomfeeder, sgt.null, Lord Foul, Mrs.Null & Deer of the Dawn


I.

I thought about those stars and I was pretty sure I was looking at the same ones, from the picture in the music book. I thought about people looking at those stars a hundred years ago and two hundred years ago and maybe thousands of years ago and I felt free from the time I am in and the body laying on the roof and the freedom.

II.

thought about those
stars and I was pretty
sure I was looking at
the same ones, from
the picture in the music
book. I thought about
people looking at those
stars a hundred years
ago and two hundred
years ago and maybe
thousands of years ago
and I felt free from the
time I am in and the
body laying on the
roof and the freedom.

Reduce spin by half
and your theory fits
perfectly in a regard.
Although this statement
is vague, we will not
need to be specific. We
will grind more. You tell
us this is odd (essentially
unique) Induce a map
from the lies. Ultimately
this is a question of
definition. Time is the
necessary further delay.
And now the punchline:
You are defined by the
relationship: in a sense,
in contrast. Because now
something curious appears.

III.

O blessed stars,
How did thy sprites
Amass these limbs
Of thought and movement?
What secret wealth
Does thy light portend

Jettison cool afterthoughts;
Know now the day, its
Lurking reason, creased bright

Here strides illusion
And alteration—words
Left useless
And unspoken

Words—known
Then and you will know them
Now and know—
Know what
Has fallen and how
It will begin and that the fallen
Has begun again and
What has fallen has
Already begun

The Gods have multiplied
In the vast, tractable depths
Of unsowed black,
Where no silence ascends

But the thought that there should be
Sound to know that there is silence

IV

there are no gum-boots
to fit even the least among...

if i held forth, even by a
third, in a second would
you take first in my heart?

V

There is a ripple
on the mirrored surface
And the puddle muddied
beyond recall.

There the drop from your heart
fell and osmosis began...
There irrecoverable the frozen solitude
of winter night black sky,
The chillblain fear of shadows.

There begins.
Begins the azure,
begins the zephyr,
A drop is now a wave, sshhhwwwhhh.

Seashells? Bladder-wrack?
The taste of salt foreshadows tears to come
But now the sand is warm and shoulders bare.

VII

the reverse of the curse
carried by empty planes
carrying plain, white wrappers.
it's a holiday, so remember
to write home and right wrongs,
long left to fester, not so
festive in design or our minds...

VII

Next level.
Is this all there is?

All there is.
Stars white laddered into infinite black
Unknown to any but
The one who knows their names,
Who knows my name.

Who knows my name?
If I could only remember.

But you.
You know my name.
More than that.
You know the taste of the inside of my mouth.
You know the scent behind my ears.
You know the curve of my collarbone,
The weight of my leg,
The touch of the ball of my foot,
What my level best looks like.

VIII

Ode to the Langoustines

floor laminate - we know the
drill, even when feeling ill...
three gallons fixed for three
galleons, whistles and irate
pirates. hungry ceiling fans
littered among the bitter house
mates, each clinging to fate.
men had moxie then, so who
added the photos? damn city
going to catch on fire, broil
in oil those tasty treats, please
go ahead and eat, my treat...

No. 9

red fish caught, ought
to know his ending. he
sought escape & relief
form the un-ending inky
black blackness that was
his only (lonely) world.
until he sought the light
at the edge of the depth,
the net he met that ended...

X

Redfish
Bluefish
Snapper
Swordfish
Jesus was a carpenter
He broke bread for thousands
but took time to fish for me.

(cont'd...)

11
The light at the edge of the water
Golden, with a black-spotted
frog suspended in glory- for a moment then jump
with a skip of my tiny heart.

So insubstantial is the net we're alluding to.

It was also in the tautness of the sun-washed sails
The red glance of the American Robin, returned
The hissing trees bent under storm winds

A net that took years to mend
So the fish could hang suspended also
in golden light
at the edge


XII

time I lay down,
leave my burdens
behind. won't you
join me please?
a place where the
sun shines bright
and grass grows
long. streams run
cold. a place we
can grow old.......


XIII

when the dreams eventually came back
fast asleep in some different city
having dined with different people
of a different air under different weather

twisting and turning come daybreak
unlike before, you were not about to leave
unlike before, nobody lurking in wait
by the kitchen door, waiting to carry your bags

but waking up to a foreign, different future
differently grey, differently daunting now
you were to stay forever behind, in my reverie
and unlike before, no longer asleep at my side


XIV
This too, a net that draws me under
murky are the depths
where motes dance in brilliance
and sink into shadow...

so is my backward glance
never quite meeting your eyes
but remembering how sunlight
glared on our tangled shoulders

and I am here and you
are

XV (the fifteenth)

[ Donate ]

something borrowed
something blue...
what condition, this heart?

be it Fairfax or Halifax
I am the carnifex...
no stars dare trespass

tangerine swings and
rhomboid beats, I am
your last trapezoid...

now I am a skipchase
running down the steeple
chase, on through now

Taking Friendship to the Next Level

A poem
By babybottomfeeder, sgt.null, Lord Foul, Mrs.Null & Deer of the Dawn


I.

I thought about those stars and I was pretty sure I was looking at the same ones, from the picture in the music book. I thought about people looking at those stars a hundred years ago and two hundred years ago and maybe thousands of years ago and I felt free from the time I am in and the body laying on the roof and the freedom.

II.

thought about those
stars and I was pretty
sure I was looking at
the same ones, from
the picture in the music
book. I thought about
people looking at those
stars a hundred years
ago and two hundred
years ago and maybe
thousands of years ago
and I felt free from the
time I am in and the
body laying on the
roof and the freedom.

Reduce spin by half
and your theory fits
perfectly in a regard.
Although this statement
is vague, we will not
need to be specific. We
will grind more. You tell
us this is odd (essentially
unique) Induce a map
from the lies. Ultimately
this is a question of
definition. Time is the
necessary further delay.
And now the punchline:
You are defined by the
relationship: in a sense,
in contrast. Because now
something curious appears.

III.

O blessed stars,
How did thy sprites
Amass these limbs
Of thought and movement?
What secret wealth
Does thy light portend

Jettison cool afterthoughts;
Know now the day, its
Lurking reason, creased bright

Here strides illusion
And alteration-words
Left useless
And unspoken

Words-known
Then and you will know them
Now and know-
Know what
Has fallen and how
It will begin and that the fallen
Has begun again and
What has fallen has
Already begun

The Gods have multiplied
In the vast, tractable depths
Of unsowed black,
Where no silence ascends

But the thought that there should be
Sound to know that there is silence

IV

there are no gum-boots
to fit even the least among...

if i held forth, even by a
third, in a second would
you take first in my heart?

V

There is a ripple
on the mirrored surface
And the puddle muddied
beyond recall.

There the drop from your heart
fell and osmosis began...
There irrecoverable the frozen solitude
of winter night black sky,
The chillblain fear of shadows.

There begins.
Begins the azure,
begins the zephyr,
A drop is now a wave, sshhhwwwhhh.

Seashells? Bladder-wrack?
The taste of salt foreshadows tears to come
But now the sand is warm and shoulders bare.

VII

the reverse of the curse
carried by empty planes
carrying plain, white wrappers.
it's a holiday, so remember
to write home and right wrongs,
long left to fester, not so
festive in design or our minds...

VII

Next level.
Is this all there is?

All there is.
Stars white laddered into infinite black
Unknown to any but
The one who knows their names,
Who knows my name.

Who knows my name?
If I could only remember.

But you.
You know my name.
More than that.
You know the taste of the inside of my mouth.
You know the scent behind my ears.
You know the curve of my collarbone,
The weight of my leg,
The touch of the ball of my foot,
What my level best looks like.

VIII

Ode to the Langoustines

floor laminate - we know the
drill, even when feeling ill...
three gallons fixed for three
galleons, whistles and irate
pirates. hungry ceiling fans
littered among the bitter house
mates, each clinging to fate.
men had moxie then, so who
added the photos? damn city
going to catch on fire, broil
in oil those tasty treats, please
go ahead and eat, my treat...

No. 9

red fish caught, ought
to know his ending. he
sought escape & relief
form the un-ending inky
black blackness that was
his only (lonely) world.
until he sought the light
at the edge of the depth,
the net he met that ended...

X

Redfish
Bluefish
Snapper
Swordfish
Jesus was a carpenter
He broke bread for thousands
but took time to fish for me.

(cont'd...)

11
The light at the edge of the water
Golden, with a black-spotted
frog suspended in glory- for a moment then jump
with a skip of my tiny heart.

So insubstantial is the net we're alluding to.

It was also in the tautness of the sun-washed sails
The red glance of the American Robin, returned
The hissing trees bent under storm winds

A net that took years to mend
So the fish could hang suspended also
in golden light
at the edge


XII

time I lay down,
leave my burdens
behind. won't you
join me please?
a place where the
sun shines bright
and grass grows
long. streams run
cold. a place we
can grow old.......


XIII

when the dreams eventually came back
fast asleep in some different city
having dined with different people
of a different air under different weather

twisting and turning come daybreak
unlike before, you were not about to leave
unlike before, nobody lurking in wait
by the kitchen door, waiting to carry your bags

but waking up to a foreign, different future
differently grey, differently daunting now
you were to stay forever behind, in my reverie
and unlike before, no longer asleep at my side


XIV
This too, a net that draws me under
murky are the depths
where motes dance in brilliance
and sink into shadow...

so is my backward glance
never quite meeting your eyes
but remembering how sunlight
glared on our tangled shoulders

and I am here and you
are

XV (the fifteenth)

[ Donate ]

something borrowed
something blue...
what condition, this heart?

be it Fairfax or Halifax
I am the carnifex...
no stars dare trespass

tangerine swings and
rhomboid beats, I am
your last trapezoid...

now I am a skipchase
running down the steeple
chase, on through now


XVI

I am star stuff
Hot nova core
Cast out
A dozen billion years ago
Coalesced from the nickel-iron heart
In amino-acid, lightning rain
Bathing the surface in thick, brown life
In pools and globs and clumps and cells
Swimming, climbing, running, flying
Huddling, finally, before bright enchanted glowing LED
Victim of an oxytocin deficiency
A purveyor of chemical sparks
Firing a hard-wired chain of signals
Dragging layered images
From the deep, deep web of memory
And the shadow concept of self-awareness
That a thousand, million, billion stars were needed
To create one moment of sorrow.

Good poeming!

But what crazed madness is this that produces such delightsome form and rhythm ..

Feel free to add to the awesomeness!

I honestly feel this work surpasses any capability that I possess .. it is truly quite a delight