Subject: RE: BS: In every thread someone has to be last! From: beardedbruce Date: 29 Jul 05 - 02:26 PM LH, My post to you disappeared. I have read maybe half a dozen good books in the last week or so. And maybe I can recommend some to you. |
Subject: RE: BS: In every thread someone has to be last! From: beardedbruce Date: 03 Aug 05 - 02:32 PM back online... Ballad (20) Where have you run to, muse of mine That I cannot smile see? How can I hope to words refine From dream, that verse might be? Where have you gone, that dreams are blind To all that heart desires? I cannot follow: Might hopes find The light of your eyes' fires? What will I do, without the thought Of you seeing my wit? How will I know if words have caught Mind's eye, to your dreams fit? Who else could I dream of, and tell The world I prize as muse? You fill my need: You cast a spell Beyond what my hopes choose. When will I this soft moonlight share With one who makes it shine? How can I dream that you would care To hold your hand in mine? Why do I question all? I know I have no choice in this. You are my muse: Though my dreams grow, You decide if we kiss. 13 Aug 2003 |
Subject: RE: BS: In every thread someone has to be last! From: beardedbruce Date: 04 Aug 05 - 02:29 PM Ballad (21) Might mage cast spell to capture muse And hold her to his heart? Can dreams be real: How can he use Desire to form his art? He has not power to alter fate Nor win against her will: For this muse, he would ages wait That she might his arms fill. He studies past, to future gain: He seeks to present change. If his hopes could her smile obtain He might the stars arrange. Mage sees in muse all that he tries To find, in all his books. She is dream in flesh: Her deep eyes Show wisdom with their looks. She is his sun, his moon, his stars: This angel heaven fills. He sees her light: Only time mars His hope, with age's ills. Yet, dreams have power to give mage life And heal even his heart: He knows hopes are with desires rife, But must his passions start. 14 Aug 2003 |
Subject: RE: BS: In every thread someone has to be last! From: beardedbruce Date: 05 Aug 05 - 04:25 PM Ballad (22) A picture of you forms the song That echoes in this heart: A dream of kiss is far too strong To from verse keep apart. Thought of you fills my dreams, and lights Desires as if 'twere day. Should I deny my wish, that nights I could with my muse stay? You give vision to heart, to know The reasons for desire. How can words ever feelings show, When muse is dream, entire? In you, I find all I now seek, A muse of quiet strength; True beauty, and sweet eyes that speak To lonely soul at length. All you might ask of me, I'd give With joy, at thought of smile: In truth, I find reason to live, That words hold you a while. I hold you in my dreams, and feel Softness of skin, and lips. But I know that dreams are not real: The hope for dream now slips. 16 Aug 2003 |
Subject: RE: BS: In every thread someone has to be last! From: beardedbruce Date: 08 Aug 05 - 03:29 PM anybody out there? Have I achieved lastdom at last? |
Subject: RE: BS: In every thread someone has to be last! From: JennyO Date: 09 Aug 05 - 09:40 AM Um, yes and no :-) |
Subject: RE: BS: In every thread someone has to be last! From: beardedbruce Date: 09 Aug 05 - 06:38 PM Ballad (23) Bright moon, you pale beside those eyes, Nor can stars match her smile. She outshines heaven: Though sun tries, It is muse who wins trial. She is my muse: A dryad, rose, Beauty beyond compare. Thought of her lights my dreams: Heart knows No joys save that muse care. I read, in her words, songs to sound Within my heart's desire. Thought of her kiss makes my heart pound; Of eyes, feeds passion's fire. I see picture, and want to hold This woman in my arms. I dream of eyes, and hope I've told The power of her charms. Yet, I awake from dream, and know Lips will not touch her skin. Desire does not chance for hopes grow, Nor can dream true love win. Beauty alone does not make muse: Heart must speak to my soul. I see in her far more, and choose To make her smile my goal. 21 Aug 2003 |
Subject: RE: BS: In every thread someone has to be last! From: beardedbruce Date: 09 Aug 05 - 06:58 PM Ballad (24) In dreams, I rub your feet, and give Warm milk, and gentle kiss. Shall I whisper soft words, to live In dream what life might miss? I want to hold you in my arms, And listen to your heart: I wish to keep you from all harms And give you all my art. How can I soothe your rest, and send Sweet dreams to you each night? How can I ease your aches, and lend My care, that fears take flight? Might my words bring a smile, in eyes That light my hopes, and dream? Can you hear, in my lines, the sighs Heart gives, when image gleams? You are my dream, my hope: Desire Made real, and soft, and dear. You are true love: You light a fire That all of past would sear. Give me some word what I can share To win you peace of mind: What might I say to show I care, How can I sweet dreams find? 23 Aug 2003 |
Subject: RE: BS: In every thread someone has to be last! From: GUEST,Nevertheless Date: 09 Aug 05 - 07:14 PM A picture of you forms the future That echoes in my chamberpot My dreams of bliss are far too strong To from verse cancel blot. Thought of you fills my nights, and lights Desires which trample my vestments. Should I deny thine wish, that nights I could inhabit testaments? You give vision to adventure, and incline The reasons for desire. How can words ever feelings rust When muse is dream, entire? In you, I find all I now seek, A flagon of draughty ale; True beauty, and sweet eyes that speak And lips that oft glow pale. All you might ask of me, I'd give With joy, like a fulsome mensch: In truth, I find reason to live, For the touch of yon blithesome wench. I hold you in my dreams, and feel The rising of lambent declination. But I know that dreams are not real: While my fortress exudes lamenations. And now as the dross doth exceed And surpass e'en dimensions of Ruth On my nightstand the night owl he bleeds For the passions that herald thy truth No, yet, I must stay and endure Not to wither in thy love's bright flame While the ponds are beset and the cure Of my rhapsody still is in vain For tis true I'm no quiescent wretch Whose fretting goes silent, unheard No! Again, no, my poems attest To the mighty desire of my word Therefore listen, oh, listen, my muse! And turn not from this heart in its need If my visions be not to amuse Then turn oft, give them thought, and them heed Oh, yes, I am lost in thy love And for this I could go on and on On and on, on and on, past the dusk, past the dawn, As complete as your hand in your glove I rave, and I rant, and I roar I whisper, I plead, and I crave Do not spurn this poor heart that adores! For tis thus I would end in my grave There to moulder and slowly decay Just a memory that flickers and fades Just a vanishing song, midst the impatient throng Where my muse my sad heart did waylay! |
Subject: RE: BS: In every thread someone has to be last! From: beardedbruce Date: 09 Aug 05 - 07:49 PM Sorry, Nevertheless... You have failed to consistantly meet the structure or rhyme... Either accept that structure, or not- the partial , irregular construction is not a poem. A B A B The A lines are quadreameter, the B lines are trimeter. ( iambic, if you care...) Now, care to try again? |
Subject: RE: BS: In every thread someone has to be last! From: GUEST,Neverthless Date: 09 Aug 05 - 08:24 PM What? Are we in some sort of competition here? I'm not sure I have the time for that. I mean, what is it worth to you? |
Subject: RE: BS: In every thread someone has to be last! From: beardedbruce Date: 09 Aug 05 - 08:37 PM If one chooses to satorize another's work, the requirements are to use the same form. If you were just plagerizing, then feel free- but your attempt does not meet any form of lyrical verse. I could pound on the strings of a guitar- but I would not then record the dissonance and put it out in public. Maybe you would. |
Subject: RE: BS: In every thread someone has to be last! From: beardedbruce Date: 09 Aug 05 - 08:40 PM Ballad (25) A cup of tea with muse, a fire Of scented wood, and time To whisper dreams that she inspire: Are such desires crime? My muse's eyes light up the night, And dream of her is all I care about: But is it right To for such beauty fall? I long to run fingers through hair And brush her lips with mine. I want to show how much I care And of desires give sign. I overreach, to seek to touch This one, who molds my heart. How can I dare hope to dreams clutch, And not with my soul part? But soul is a small price to give For such as I behold: How can I let my passions live, And not in arms enfold? I dream, but hold only desires; For this beautiful maid Who all of dream in me inspires: My debt cannot be paid. 30 Aug 2003 |
Subject: RE: BS: In every thread someone has to be last! From: GUEST,Nevertheless Date: 09 Aug 05 - 08:41 PM Look, buddy, if I wanted to "satorize" your work, I would, but it's not worth the trouble. If I wrote pathetic treacly dross like you do, I wouldn't risk criticizing other people's poetic efforts in public. Have you ever considered taking up a real hobby? Like knitting little hats and vests for homeless dogs? |
Subject: RE: BS: In every thread someone has to be last! From: beardedbruce Date: 09 Aug 05 - 08:46 PM "Look, buddy, if I wanted to "satorize" your work, I would, but it's not worth the trouble." Than obviously you are too incompetent to even think up your own words. Way too much of what you write is obviously making fun of my verse. So, are you satorizing, or just not able to think for yourself. "If I wrote pathetic treacly dross like you do, I wouldn't risk criticizing other people's poetic efforts in public." If you don't like my verse, don't read it. I find it odd that so many here DEMAND that others not have the freedom to write that they seem to take advantage of, themselves. There is at least one person that I know of who likes my verse- I doubt if you couls say the same. "Have you ever considered taking up a real hobby? Like knitting little hats and vests for homeless dogs? " Why? is that the best that YOU are able to do vis-a-vis creativity? |
Subject: RE: BS: In every thread someone has to be last! From: beardedbruce Date: 09 Aug 05 - 08:51 PM anyway, I got post 2400. |
Subject: RE: BS: In every thread someone has to be last! From: GUEST,Nevertheless Date: 09 Aug 05 - 08:57 PM Ha! As if I care about that. Are you going to go for post 2500 as well? Look, the word is "satirize", not "satorize", okay? You're right, I was making fun of your poetry. It cries out to be made fun of, like a Barry Manilow greatest hits album or a Survivor episode. Now don't get me wrong, Manilow has talent. No doubt about it. The question is, do you? The jury is still out on that. |
Subject: RE: BS: In every thread someone has to be last! From: beardedbruce Date: 09 Aug 05 - 10:20 PM As I have said, it makes at least one person happy. Is there something more than that to aim at? |
Subject: RE: BS: In every thread someone has to be last! From: beardedbruce Date: 09 Aug 05 - 10:24 PM Ballad (26) I thank my muse for her beauty That she shares in the night. Can I let my desires run free That I might hold her tight? Her eyes shame stars, that cannot shine With half the light of hers. How can I give my muse a sign Of what that sparkle stirs? Those lips call out to me, to pull My own to her command. She has the power to make dream full Of what my hopes demand. I see in face what I desire, Sweet vision of delight: This image of her dreams require To keep my hopes in sight. I long to stroke her hair, and feel Soft touch, against my skin. Yet, should I dare to hopes reveal, When dreams should not begin? I cannot claim muse for my own, And all hopes of love miss: Might I pray that my words have shown Enough, to earn one kiss? 02 Sept 2003 |
Subject: RE: BS: In every thread someone has to be last! From: beardedbruce Date: 09 Aug 05 - 10:25 PM Ballad (27) Might muse send feather to be quill, Pulled from her angel wings? How can I wait, when my dreams spill From soul and my heart's strings? Might I beg token, that heart knows She thinks of me, at times? How can I ask, when her smile shows She cares at least for rhymes? Is there a reason I should think I'll hold her in my arms? Have I the chance to from lips drink, Or drown in her eyes' charms? She is my muse- A dryad, rare Beyond belief, but real. How can I say how much I care, When dreams are all I feel? I want far more than words might earn, To share the dawn, and night. Yet, should I from my passions turn, And think to hold dreams tight? I offer all, but know I give Only what muse permits. I ask only that dreams might live, And hope into heart fits. 05 Sept 2003 |
Subject: RE: BS: In every thread someone has to be last! From: beardedbruce Date: 10 Aug 05 - 01:50 PM Ballad (28) This dryad remains in my heart, A muse of rare degree. How can I keep verses from start When in heart I smile see? Her eyes send visions to my mind, That heart might some hope hold. How could I ever the words find To say what smile has told? In dream, I feel her cheek, and taste A tear, alone and sweet: She weeps with joy. Even in haste, My dreams would her wish meet. A quiet voice whispers my dream Upon the page, to rest. Can my soft words tell what would seem To be in kiss told best? My muse is more than I can write: She is love, life, and soul. In her I find future, so bright, That sun is like dark coal. I do not see my path, but Fate Will take me where it will. I can but content of heart state, For her smile my dreams fill. 05 Sept 2003 |
Subject: RE: BS: In every thread someone has to be last! From: beardedbruce Date: 10 Aug 05 - 09:03 PM Ballad (29) Mage reaches out, and tries to hold His muse, within his arms. Will she run from his passions told, Or willingly share charms? How can he keep her safe, but free To be herself? He weeps To think he might change smile, or be Less than she needs, or keeps. He wants only her happiness, But knows not how to find The means to her desires address, And not her spirit bind. All that he knows seems pointless: Vain Scribbling upon the page. He cannot from his books obtain Those dreams, that make him mage. Only his muse can fill his mind With light, and bring to life The future that his visions find: Without, he finds but strife. He knows he never had a choice, That she is of a plane Above his grasp. He has no voice To speak: His dreams must reign. 10 Sept 2003 |
Subject: RE: BS: In every thread someone has to be last! From: beardedbruce Date: 11 Aug 05 - 03:14 PM Ballad (30) I would not let muse drift away When I might hold her tight. What can I do, to have her say Her dreams will be all right? How might I give her dreams true life, That she might pleasures share? What can I send, to ease that strife, And show how much I care? Should I not try to offer cheer, Or her smile seek to find? What can I say, to share her fear, And hug her, within mind? What dreams would bring my muse some rest, To let her wake with smile? What is the potion that is best To give sleep, for a while? Might I find, at the bottom of A cup, some leaves to read The future, and desires? Is love Seen there, for heart to heed? I know my wish, but should I try To have my muse make choice? I'd rather have smile, and in eye See reasons to rejoice. 26 Sept 2003 |
Subject: RE: BS: In every thread someone has to be last! From: beardedbruce Date: 11 Aug 05 - 05:18 PM Ballad (31) What would you have me do, sweet muse, To earn even one kiss? Just thought of smile can dreams confuse, And your eyes give heart bliss. Shall I tell you of my desires, Or some of dreams relate? Might I send words that hope inspires. To tell of longed-for fate? All I require is smile, to lend The passion to my lines. Thoughts of your eyes my sorrows mend, Of lips future refines. You are my heart's desire, sweet rose, The light to guide my soul. Though season turns, and hints of snow, Heart remains warm, and whole. What can I give to show the hold The image of you wields? Mere words are poor reflections, cold, Of dreams that my hope yields. I long to hold you, though I know I need not touch to care. Heart remains your, and my dreams show Reasons I would souls share. 11 Oct. 2003 |
Subject: RE: BS: In every thread someone has to be last! From: Little Hawk Date: 11 Aug 05 - 05:31 PM In hopes of rescuing this once proud thread from expiring in a morass of romantic dreck, I am going to start posting Bob Dylan lrics here. Ahem! Brownsville Girl Well, there was this movie I seen one time, About a man riding 'cross the desert and it starred Gregory Peck. He was shot down by a hungry kid trying to make a name for himself. The townspeople wanted to crush that kid down and string him up by the neck. Well, the marshal, now he beat that kid to a bloody pulp as the dying gunfighter lay in the sun and gasped for his last breath. Turn him loose, let him go, let him say he outdrew me fair and square, I want him to feel what it's like to every moment face his death. Well, I keep seeing this stuff and it just comes a-rolling in And you know it blows right through me like a ball and chain. You know I can't believe we've lived so long and are still so far apart. The memory of you keeps callin' after me like a rollin' train. I can still see the day that you came to me on the painted desert In your busted down Ford and your platform heels I could never figure out why you chose that particular place to meet Ah, but you were right. It was perfect as I got in behind the wheel. Well, we drove that car all night into San Anton' And we slept near the Alamo, your skin was so tender and soft. Way down in Mexico you went out to find a doctor and you never came back. I would have gone on after you but I didn't feel like letting my head get blown off. Well, we're drivin' this car and the sun is comin' up over the Rockies, Now I know she ain't you but she's here and she's got that dark rhythm in her soul. But I'm too over the edge and I ain't in the mood anymore to remember the times when I was your only man And she don't want to remind me. She knows this car would go out of control. Brownsville girl with your Brownsville curls, teeth like pearls shining like the moon above Brownsville girl, show me all around the world, Brownsville girl, you're my honey love. Well, we crossed the panhandle and then we headed towards Amarillo We pulled up where Henry Porter used to live. He owned a wreckin' lot outside of town about a mile. Ruby was in the backyard hanging clothes, she had her red hair tied back. She saw us come rolling up in a trail of dust. She said, "Henry ain't here but you can come on in, he'll be back in a little while." Then she told us how times were tough and about how she was thinkin' of bummin' a ride back to where she started. But ya know, she changed the subject every time money came up. She said, "Welcome to the land of the living dead." You could tell she was so broken-hearted. She said, "Even the swap meets around here are getting pretty corrupt." "How far are y'all going?" Ruby asked us with a sigh. "We're going all the way 'til the wheels fall off and burn, 'Til the sun peels the paint and the seat covers fade and the water moccasin dies." Ruby just smiled and said, "Ah, you know some babies never learn." Something about that movie though, well I just can't get it out of my head But I can't remember why I was in it or what part I was supposed to play. All I remember about it was Gregory Peck and the way people moved And a lot of them seemed to be lookin' my way. Brownsville girl with your Brownsville curls, teeth like pearls shining like the moon above Brownsville girl, show me all around the world, Brownsville girl, you're my honey love. Well, they were looking for somebody with a pompadour. I was crossin' the street when shots rang out. I didn't know whether to duck or to run, so I ran. "We got him cornered in the churchyard," I heard somebody shout. Well, you saw my picture in the Corpus Christi Tribune. Underneath it, it said, "A man with no alibi." You went out on a limb to testify for me, you said I was with you. Then when I saw you break down in front of the judge and cry real tears, It was the best acting I saw anybody do. Now I've always been the kind of person that doesn't like to trespass but sometimes you just find yourself over the line. Oh if there's an original thought out there, I could use it right now. You know, I feel pretty good, but that ain't sayin' much. I could feel a whole lot better, If you were just here by my side to show me how. Well, I'm standin' in line in the rain to see a movie starring Gregory Peck, Yeah, but you know it's not the one that I had in mind. He's got a new one out now, I don't even know what it's about But I'll see him in anything so I'll stand in line. Brownsville girl with your Brownsville curls, teeth like pearls shining like the moon above Brownsville girl, show me all around the world, Brownsville girl, you're my honey love. You know, it's funny how things never turn out the way you had 'em planned. The only thing we knew for sure about Henry Porter is that his name wasn't Henry Porter. And you know there was somethin' about you baby that I liked that was always too good for this world Just like you always said there was something about me you liked that I left behind in the French Quarter. Strange how people who suffer together have stronger connections than people who are most content. I don't have any regrets, they can talk about me plenty when I'm gone. You always said people don't do what they believe in, they just do what's most convenient, then they repent. And I always said, "Hang on to me, baby, and let's hope that the roof stays on." There was a movie I seen one time, I think I sat through it twice. I don't remember who I was or where I was bound. All I remember about it was it starred Gregory Peck, he wore a gun and he was shot in the back. Seems like a long time ago, long before the stars were torn down. Brownsville girl with your Brownsville curls, teeth like pearls shining like the moon above Brownsville girl, show me all around the world, Brownsville girl, you're my honey love. Copyright © 1986 Special Rider Music |
Subject: RE: BS: In every thread someone has to be last! From: beardedbruce Date: 11 Aug 05 - 05:37 PM LH, "a morass of romantic dreck"? Brownsville girl with your Brownsville curls, teeth like pearls shining like the moon above Brownsville girl, show me all around the world, Brownsville girl, you're my honey love. At least I write my own... |
Subject: RE: BS: In every thread someone has to be last! From: Little Hawk Date: 11 Aug 05 - 05:48 PM So do I. But I'd rather bury you in Dylan. ;-) Ahem! Clean-Cut Kid Everybody wants to know why he couldn't adjust Adjust to what, a dream that bust? He was a clean-cut kid But they made a killer out of him, That's what they did They said what's up is down, they said what isn't is They put ideas in his head he thought were his He was a clean-cut kid But they made a killer out of him, That's what they did He was on the baseball team, he was in the marching band When he was ten years old he had a watermelon stand He was a clean-cut kid But they made a killer out of him, That's what they did He went to church on Sunday, he was a Boy Scout For his friends he would turn his pockets inside out He was a clean-cut kid But they made a killer out of him, That's what they did They said, "Listen boy, you're just a pup" They sent him to a napalm health spa to shape up They gave him dope to smoke, drinks and pills, A jeep to drive, blood to spill They said "Congratulations, you got what it takes" They sent him back into the rat race without any brakes He was a clean-cut kid But they made a killer out of him, That's what they did He bought the American dream but it put him in debt The only game he could play was Russian roulette He drank Coca-Cola, he was eating Wonder Bread, Ate Burger Kings, he was well fed He went to Hollywood to see Peter O'Toole He stole a Rolls Royce and drove it in a swimming pool They took a clean-cut kid And they made a killer out of him, That's what they did He could've sold insurance, owned a restaurant or bar Could've been an accountant or a tennis star He was wearing boxing gloves, took a dive one day Off the Golden Gate Bridge into China Bay His mama walks the floor, his daddy weeps and moans They gotta sleep together in a home they don't own They took a clean-cut kid And they made a killer out of him, That's what they did Well, everybody's asking why he couldn't adjust All he ever wanted was somebody to trust They took his head and turned it inside out He never did know what it was all about He had a steady job, he joined the choir He never did plan to walk the high wire They took a clean-cut kid And they made a killer out of him, That's what they did Copyright © 1985 Special Rider Music |
Subject: RE: BS: In every thread someone has to be last! From: beardedbruce Date: 11 Aug 05 - 05:52 PM Ballad (32) Tell me, sweet muse, what you desire, That I may find a way To give you moon, or stars, or fire That would warm soul today. Give me some quest, or set me goal, To prove how much I care. Let me show just how deep in soul You've touched, that I love dare. Let laughter warm me, and your eyes Provide reason to live. Share your dreams with me, and make wise One who would knowledge give. Might I dream of my arms around Treasure beyond mere gold? Can I hope that I now have found A part of heart to hold? All I seek in visions I find In what I see of you. All I dream of within my mind Is to your sweet soul view. Send me a token of concern, That hope is not in vain: Send me your dream, that I might earn That you my muse remain. 21 Oct. 03 |
Subject: RE: BS: In every thread someone has to be last! From: beardedbruce Date: 11 Aug 05 - 05:53 PM Ballad (33) With dancing leaves beneath his feet, A mage treads chill, and dark. His thoughts on muse, his dreams hopes meet In light that her eyes spark. She remains beyond reach of arms, Yet held within his heart. A dream, or real? This vision's charms Offer far more than Art. Mage cannot from path turn aside, Nor fail to for muse wait. He sees her, with eyes open wide, And knows he's found his fate. Muse is more than she seems- Both source And focus of his lines. She is sweet maid, who holds the force Of Love, and heart confines. He cannot ask that she remain, Nor that he visit make: But though he does not his hopes gain, She all of dreams awake. With stars as witness, Mage declares He has found his desire: This muse, whose smile his heart repairs, And eyes his soul inspires. 24 Oct. 03 |
Subject: RE: BS: In every thread someone has to be last! From: beardedbruce Date: 11 Aug 05 - 05:54 PM Ballad (34) Mage offers muse fair chains to bind, With silver and with gold, His heart, to dreams of her, and find What he wishes to hold. Around her wrist one length might go To remind when she writes: The other touching neck to show Where dream has set hope's sights. He cannot change: He needs to send Some token of his heart. Far more would not his dreams defend, Though he would with all part. She is his muse, his heart's desires Made real and brought to earth. When thought of thought of smile inspires, How can he send her worth? All mage can do is dream, and seek To tell what his hopes see. He does not kiss, nor hear her speak; Still, he would not heart free. She gives him vision, and the light To show what time might bring: A quiet talk, a star-lit night, And chance to hear muse sing. 04 Nov. 03 |
Subject: RE: BS: In every thread someone has to be last! From: Little Hawk Date: 11 Aug 05 - 05:56 PM Desolation Row They're selling postcards of the hanging They're painting the passports brown The beauty parlor is filled with sailors The circus is in town Here comes the blind commissioner They've got him in a trance One hand is tied to the tight-rope walker The other is in his pants And the riot squad they're restless They need somewhere to go As Lady and I look out tonight From Desolation Row Cinderella, she seems so easy "It takes one to know one," she smiles And puts her hands in her back pockets Bette Davis style And in comes Romeo, he's moaning "You Belong to Me I Believe" And someone says," You're in the wrong place, my friend You better leave" And the only sound that's left After the ambulances go Is Cinderella sweeping up On Desolation Row Now the moon is almost hidden The stars are beginning to hide The fortunetelling lady Has even taken all her things inside All except for Cain and Abel And the hunchback of Notre Dame Everybody is making love Or else expecting rain And the Good Samaritan, he's dressing He's getting ready for the show He's going to the carnival tonight On Desolation Row Now Ophelia, she's 'neath the window For her I feel so afraid On her twenty-second birthday She already is an old maid To her, death is quite romantic She wears an iron vest Her profession's her religion Her sin is her lifelessness And though her eyes are fixed upon Noah's great rainbow She spends her time peeking Into Desolation Row Einstein, disguised as Robin Hood With his memories in a trunk Passed this way an hour ago With his friend, a jealous monk He looked so immaculately frightful As he bummed a cigarette Then he went off sniffing drainpipes And reciting the alphabet Now you would not think to look at him But he was famous long ago For playing the electric violin On Desolation Row Dr. Filth, he keeps his world Inside of a leather cup But all his sexless patients They're trying to blow it up Now his nurse, some local loser She's in charge of the cyanide hole And she also keeps the cards that read "Have Mercy on His Soul" They all play on penny whistles You can hear them blow If you lean your head out far enough From Desolation Row Across the street they've nailed the curtains They're getting ready for the feast The Phantom of the Opera A perfect image of a priest They're spoonfeeding Casanova To get him to feel more assured Then they'll kill him with self-confidence After poisoning him with words And the Phantom's shouting to skinny girls "Get Outa Here If You Don't Know Casanova is just being punished for going To Desolation Row" Now at midnight all the agents And the superhuman crew Come out and round up everyone That knows more than they do Then they bring them to the factory Where the heart-attack machine Is strapped across their shoulders And then the kerosene Is brought down from the castles By insurance men who go Check to see that nobody is escaping To Desolation Row Praise be to Nero's Neptune The Titanic sails at dawn And everybody's shouting "Which Side Are You On?" And Ezra Pound and T. S. Eliot Fighting in the captain's tower While calypso singers laugh at them And fishermen hold flowers Between the windows of the sea Where lovely mermaids flow And nobody has to think too much About Desolation Row Yes, I received your letter yesterday (About the time the door knob broke) When you asked how I was doing Was that some kind of joke? All these people that you mention Yes, I know them, they're quite lame I had to rearrange their faces And give them all another name Right now I can't read too good Don't send me no more letters no Not unless you mail them From Desolation Row Copyright © 1965; renewed 1993 Special Rider Music |
Subject: RE: BS: In every thread someone has to be last! From: Little Hawk Date: 11 Aug 05 - 05:57 PM Ring Them Bells Ring them bells, ye heathen From the city that dreams, Ring them bells from the sanctuaries Cross the valleys and streams, For they're deep and they're wide And the world's on its side And time is running backwards And so is the bride. Ring them bells St. Peter Where the four winds blow, Ring them bells with an iron hand So the people will know. Oh it's rush hour now On the wheel and the plow And the sun is going down Upon the sacred cow. Ring them bells Sweet Martha, For the poor man's son, Ring them bells so the world will know That God is one. Oh the shepherd is asleep Where the willows weep And the mountains are filled With lost sheep. Ring them bells for the blind and the deaf, Ring them bells for all of us who are left, Ring them bells for the chosen few Who will judge the many when the game is through. Ring them bells, for the time that flies, For the child that cries When innocence dies. Ring them bells St. Catherine From the top of the room, Ring them from the fortress For the lilies that bloom. Oh the lines are long And the fighting is strong And they're breaking down the distance Between right and wrong. Copyright © 1989 Special Rider Music |
Subject: RE: BS: In every thread someone has to be last! From: beardedbruce Date: 11 Aug 05 - 06:06 PM only six more ballads and I can start posting the sonnets again... LOTS more to go. Ballad (35) Can season give me gift, to win The chance to visit muse? Should I hope to desires pin On what friend's friend might choose? I cannot ignore even chance To share more than these lines. I want to see stars in eyes dance, And seek your hopes' designs. I do not sleep, for dreams of you That fill the cold and dark. My visions warm, yet can't renew The fire that your words spark. Snow covers all, and offers chill But solitary sight. All stands alone: Hope cannot fill This monochrome, cold night. Yet, I still look to dream, and find The light to guide my way: You give to soul your smile, to bind My heart to future day. My angel sweet, my muse divine, How can I your words earn? I would give all to make you mine: With you, my hopes return. 06 Dec. 03 |
Subject: RE: BS: In every thread someone has to be last! From: beardedbruce Date: 11 Aug 05 - 06:07 PM Ballad (36) How might I cheer my muse, and bring A smile to her sweet lips? Shall I hope that my words might sing Vision that her dream sips? How can I ease concerns, or soothe The ache of work, or heart? Can I the roughness of world smooth Or journeys to joy chart? I do not know her present needs: I simply know I care. How can words that she only reads Give comfort, or heart share? Shall I whisper my love, and send A volume of request? Or do my pleas annoy, and lend A sadness to her breast? I long to wrap her in my arms, And all of sorrow steal. Yet, I must fear: Do hopes lend harms To vision now made real? She is heart's guide, but might I show A path, to desires find? I cannot ask for more, or know What hopes she keeps in mind. 17 Dec. 2003 |
Subject: RE: BS: In every thread someone has to be last! From: beardedbruce Date: 11 Aug 05 - 06:08 PM Ballad (37) Is mage now worthy of his muse? How can he know, for sure? His efforts cannot questions lose, Nor hopes his dreams assure. He spends dark nights alone and cold, In study, seeking wit. He finds no spell to her heart hold, Nor words to feelings fit. All he can do is wait, and see If he has earned her smile: He wonders if muse might agree To share the night a while. He sees the moon, but knows it's glow Reflects but her dreams' light: The stars are gems that serve to show That muse shares beauty's sight. Can he place heart aside, and learn All that his muse desires? Can mind away from passions turn, And think bare fact inspires? She is far more than visions know, And all that mage would need. Yet, should he let his passions grow, And not know where hopes lead? 18 Dec. 2003 |
Subject: RE: BS: In every thread someone has to be last! From: beardedbruce Date: 11 Aug 05 - 06:12 PM Ballad (38) Might mage try to heal muse's heart And give reason to smile? Can he hope to from waiting part, To place his dreams on trial? He offers all to one who gives The focus of his thought. But, can he think that his dreams lives, Or that hopes might be caught? Mage sends muse tokens: Books, to show That page past dreams preserve. Will future some of his hopes know, That words might praise deserve? In dreaming, does he seek the source Of his desire, or just Let his emotions set the course, And only passions trust? Mage reaches out to muse, to hold A part of heaven's light. Yet, are his dreams now wise, or bold To reach for one so bright? All mage can know is that he seeks One who touches his soul. He cares not for the cost: Hope speaks, And dream makes his heart whole. 19 Jan. 2004 |
Subject: RE: BS: In every thread someone has to be last! From: beardedbruce Date: 11 Aug 05 - 06:12 PM Ballad (39) Far more than questions fill my mind, When with my muse I speak: To her sweet charms I am not blind: Only resolve is weak. How can I tell her all I seek, When she is beyond touch? How can I heart's desires speak, Without saying too much? Perhaps I care too much, to think I might her tears remove. Yet am I fool, to our dreams link That she might hopes approve? I do not want to make concern An act in verse's play: I need to show that I would earn All of love, and friend stay. Yet, can I be more than a fool, To ask without the chance To know if she might think me cruel To try to win romance? I cannot help but feel desire Though cannot taste her lips. Her words, and dreams burn soul like fire, And passion my heart strips. 03 Nov 2004 |
Subject: RE: BS: In every thread someone has to be last! From: beardedbruce Date: 11 Aug 05 - 06:13 PM Ballad (40) Sweet muse, I value all your dreams. How can I hope to say How much your love is worth? It seems Far more than words can pay. Yet, I must try: You need to know The value of your smile. You are sweet muse, and to heart show Hope enough to beguile. The spells you cast, feelings from soul, Guide me to heart's desires: A whisper, smile, a dream; The whole Of my true muse inspires. Might caring arms in safty hold, To give you chance for rest? I remain yours: Longings enfold A hope I might dreams test? I would not walk away: I'd try To pick you up, and make My muse complete. Might I know why You fear to concern take? How might I future form, to build As you wish it to be? How can I keep your night-time filled With stars, for you to see? 23 March 2005 |
Subject: RE: BS: In every thread someone has to be last! From: Little Hawk Date: 11 Aug 05 - 06:16 PM Are you writing these as you go, or copying them off a databank? If it's the former, you rival McGonagall! The Mighty Quinn Ev'rybody's building the big ships and the boats, Some are building monuments, Others, jotting down notes, Ev'rybody's in despair, Ev'ry girl and boy But when Quinn the Eskimo gets here, Ev'rybody's gonna jump for joy. Come all without, come all within, You'll not see nothing like the mighty Quinn. I like to do just like the rest, I like my sugar sweet, But guarding fumes and making haste, It ain't my cup of meat. Ev'rybody's 'neath the trees, Feeding pigeons on a limb But when Quinn the Eskimo gets here, All the pigeons gonna run to him. Come all without, come all within, You'll not see nothing like the mighty Quinn. A cat's meow and a cow's moo, I can recite 'em all, Just tell me where it hurts yuh, honey, And I'll tell you who to call. Nobody can get no sleep, There's someone on ev'ryone's toes But when Quinn the Eskimo gets here, Ev'rybody's gonna wanna doze. Come all without, come all within, You'll not see nothing like the mighty Quinn. |
Subject: RE: BS: In every thread someone has to be last! From: beardedbruce Date: 11 Aug 05 - 06:17 PM sonnet 254 of 257 to my muse... Sonnet 16/07/05 MXV I cannot stand this silence: Dare I try To tell how much I need her smile? I ache, Knowing I cannot give the reason why I have not will to call and silence break. I fear I do not find enough, in dream, Of hope and future: Should I think I hold A cure for her concerns? Would love redeem Dark anxious nights, or are my dreams too bold? Yet, can my heart survive not hearing muse, Or will I dreamless sleep? No light appears Without her: I am blind, and doubts confuse My thoughts. How can I bear having these fears? I know I should not dream, nor seek desires, But for chance of her smile soul would brave fires. |
Subject: RE: BS: In every thread someone has to be last! From: Little Hawk Date: 11 Aug 05 - 06:26 PM Queen Jane Approximately When your mother sends back all your invitations And your father to your sister he explains That you're tired of yourself and all of your creations Won't you come see me, Queen Jane? Won't you come see me, Queen Jane? Now when all of the flower ladies want back what they have lent you And the smell of their roses does not remain And all of your children start to resent you Won't you come see me, Queen Jane? Won't you come see me, Queen Jane? Now when all the clowns that you have commissioned Have died in battle or in vain And you're sick of all this repetition Won't you come see me, Queen Jane? Won't you come see me, Queen Jane? When all of your advisers heave their plastic At your feet to convince you of your pain Trying to prove that your conclusions should be more drastic Won't you come see me, Queen Jane? Won't you come see me, Queen Jane? Now when all the bandits that you turned your other cheek to All lay down their bandanas and complain And you want somebody you don't have to speak to Won't you come see me, Queen Jane? Won't you come see me, Queen Jane? Copyright © 1965; renewed 1993 Special Rider Music |
Subject: RE: BS: In every thread someone has to be last! From: beardedbruce Date: 11 Aug 05 - 06:41 PM sonnet 255 of 257 to my muse... Sonnet 22/07/05 MXVI I see a bright clear moon, and think of her And how I value smile. What can I give To show how much I miss her? Does light stir Feelings I should not have? Cannot dreams live? Soft shadows fill the night: How might I find Vision without her eyes' bright light? Moon shines, But gives no light to soul. My heart is blind Without the chance to watch her read my lines. I hold what I might of her: If just tears, I shall accept the sorrow. Heart must wait To win true love, when hopes cannot fight fears That happiness is gone, and dreams too late. Under full moon, I dream of muse, and see Enough of hope to want to to her flee. |
Subject: RE: BS: In every thread someone has to be last! From: beardedbruce Date: 11 Aug 05 - 06:42 PM sonnet 256 of 257 to my muse... Sonnet 24/07/05 MXVII When vision does not let me see a way To reach to her, and hold her in arms, tight Against dark night and worry, should I stay Inside these dreams, without hope for love's light? I cannot keep from caring: Am I fool, To let hope live? Her eyes have power, to fill Dreams with her light, heart with desire, to rule Over my thoughts. I cannot think this ill. Is there a reason dream should fade, or heart Alter intent? She is my muse, of rare Degree: Thought of her feeds my soul, and art. How can I not for such a woman care? She is far more than beauty I desire: She is the reason soul feels true love's fire. |
Subject: RE: BS: In every thread someone has to be last! From: beardedbruce Date: 11 Aug 05 - 06:43 PM sonnet 257 of 257 to my muse... Sonnet 01/08/05 MXVIII Someday I will find words worthy of eyes, To show the world what this muse means to me: Until then, I must pretend to be wise, And let her smile fill dreams, and nights to be. Someday I will find time enough to give All the concern that she deserves. Today, I long for far more than I dare to live: How can she in more than just my dreams stay? Someday I will find future I might share With one who fills my present. Is there chance I might realize my dreams? Will my muse care That she remains the focus of romance? Someday might some day find me, but until, I shall let dream of muse all of heart fill. |
Subject: RE: BS: In every thread someone has to be last! From: beardedbruce Date: 11 Aug 05 - 06:45 PM and now... Sonnet 1 of 1018 Sonnet 05/12/73 I When shall I see you, dearest friend of mine, Who has my heart within your lovely hands? What shall I do without your presence fine, More beautiful than those from foreign lands? And yet, it seems your ivory hands have dropped My heart upon the ground: Nothing's left of me; And yet, is it really true, could it be That one as you rejects my worldly ways For greater things, thoughts on a higher plane? My soul is hidden, as within a haze Of tears, the blood of my love's dead remains. Why are you not here with me; What could I Have done to deserve this fate, as if to die? |
Subject: RE: BS: In every thread someone has to be last! From: Little Hawk Date: 11 Aug 05 - 06:52 PM h |
Subject: RE: BS: In every thread someone has to be last! From: Little Hawk Date: 11 Aug 05 - 06:52 PM i |
Subject: RE: BS: In every thread someone has to be last! From: Little Hawk Date: 11 Aug 05 - 06:52 PM t |
Subject: RE: BS: In every thread someone has to be last! From: Little Hawk Date: 11 Aug 05 - 06:53 PM 55 |
Subject: RE: BS: In every thread someone has to be last! From: Little Hawk Date: 11 Aug 05 - 06:53 PM 66 |