OT: A Poet's Heart...

Discussion in 'Fibromyalgia Main Forum' started by LollieBoo, Oct 4, 2005.

  1. LollieBoo

    LollieBoo New Member

    HOPE SPRINGS ETERNAL

    We are a priveleged few,
    each and every one.
    We have life and we can love
    All can see what we have done.

    We're precious and strong...
    Courageous and young-
    We're wise and yet
    we've only just begun.

    Our hearts lead and
    our minds are free
    The beauty of it all
    is so easy to see.

    We don't mind that
    it's not always our time-
    we know the verse
    will eventually rhyme.

    We have our peace
    in simple things...
    The poet's heart
    makes dreamers sing.

    Now all together now,
    let's embrace the sun!
    We are a priveleged few,
    Each and every one.

    -Laura Merwin, 1998

    [This Message was Edited on 10/05/2005]
  2. rileyearl

    rileyearl New Member

    Thank you!

    Francie
  3. suzetal

    suzetal New Member

    Nice.
    Sue
  4. ImDigNiT

    ImDigNiT New Member

    I felt it too! Hope you don't mind,but I shared with some of my family.
    Thank you!
  5. rileyearl

    rileyearl New Member

    Thanks for sharing it. I had to read it really slowly to be in each moment--feel the sand--hold the baby--hear the dove. Wow! More!

    Francie
  6. rileyearl

    rileyearl New Member

    I can't find my poems just yet. I just told Rachel they've been shuffled off in a box in preparation for remodeling here. I might have a couple that I published upstairs and will check tomorrow. I will post something, it's just turned into a mission.

    I love the two that are here so far!

    Francie
  7. rileyearl

    rileyearl New Member

    Man in My Computer


    His online personals ad
    describes me in vivid detail,
    then asks, "Where are you?"

    I am here.

    He sends me his heart
    in a pulse-rapid series
    of messages exchanged.

    He sends me Emily Dickinson's
    poems about hearts.
    He sends me.

    We decide to finally meet
    (after an entire week.)

    "How will I know you?"
    he wonders.

    I'll be the one
    in the long white dress.

    -Francine Taylor, 1998
  8. rileyearl

    rileyearl New Member

    Bus Stop at 45th and University


    Mismatched marionettes
    move like a wave
    in response to the moon.

    Chorus line steps back on cue
    to make way for a smiling
    blind man's staccato cane tap.

    Responds again to a stout terrier
    of a man, smoking a cigar. Recoils
    from his presence and the smoke.

    Windows blackened, a sleek car races
    past. Heads snap in unison; a tennis gallery,
    a synchronized swim. Heartbeats

    suddenly in tune with bass notes.
    Across the street, the marquee at the Neptune
    announces, "Animation Festival."

    Empty and articulated, the forty-three to Ballard
    arrives. The line funnels onto the bus,
    each traveler seeking a solitary seat.

    -Francine Taylor, 1998
  9. orachel

    orachel New Member

    Rileyearl....Francie, you are incredibly talented! You did say you were published, right? If not....do it!!!! Your work has a very modern urban feel wrapped up in a romatic's soul...really really incredible.

    Lolliboo....is Laura you? I thought your name was really Lollie! Not sure if it is or isn't now! LOL If that is your work...its just incredible. I've never been a "rhyming" poet...just more of a stream of consciousness girl. If its not your work, well done. Couldn't be more appropriate to any of us! Beautiful either way! But now make sure you let me know, or I'll feel like a bum keeping calling you lollie! lol

    I'm working up my courage...may get the gumption to post some of my earlier rantings later...we shall see.

    TT both of you soon!
    Rachel
  10. LollieBoo

    LollieBoo New Member

    Laura is me... although I was always called LollieBoo as a young girl and lil'bit as a young wanna' be grown-up (9-12).

    I always liked LollieBoo... it's a very southern nickname. In the south, "boo" is someone cute, or small- it's just a general, affectionate term. I call my son Boo- we live in the north now, and people aren't aware of the "root" of boo, so everyone just calls Calvin "Boo". My DH has a "real name", too- but it was a while before I even knew it! He has always gone by "Bomber"- except when we go to the airport or a government building!lol!

    That brings up another thing... my nickname had always been shortened by my mom into "Lol", and my DH picked up on it, so now that's his affectionate term for me... for obvious reasons, I don't use that one online!! People would just think I was giddy!

    Anyhow, Call me what you want- I am Lollie and I am Laura. To some friends, I am "y'all" to tease about my southern expressions that never disappeared. When I coached our dance team, I became "Coach Yogi" because I made the girls do yoga... so my assistant coach became "Boo-Boo"! Go figure...! I sign Lollie on most of my posts, because it seems like that's where I'm writing from most days. Laura often seems too formal.

    I appreciate that you are concerned enough to address me with the most appropriate monniker. That seems very respectful to me.

    As for your poems, Francie- Wow. You are so talented. I always feel like my poems are so "surface" and elementary. Those are deep and rich and sophisticated. Every word means something important... it's fascinating- I read them over and over- I was transported there... in the moment you described. Fabulous!

    This is exciting! I want MORE! MORE!

    Lol ;)
  11. rileyearl

    rileyearl New Member

    Hey Rachel and Lollie,

    I'm sorry, but you're Lollie to me now! I just love Southern names, traditions and general eccentricities. My favorite writers are Southern--too bad I can't concentrate to read these days.

    And Rachel, what is your nickname?

    I started calling my son Baboo when he was a baby. Now he's Boo or Bob or Ian Baboo. I was calling him Baby a lot, but he pitched a fit about that a few weeks ago.

    I'm so glad you like the poems. The rest of them are still hiding somewhere. Possibly in a box under Ian's bed. I hate going in there. He's only 4, but the place is rank and should be condemned. Who knows what he's stashed under that bed.

    I think for our first annual writer's conference, we should choose a Southern town. What do you think? Have you ever been to a writer's conference? I went to one and it was the coolest thing. Lots of seminars by known writers, lots of time to write, lots of wonderful people and the best energy ever. (Nevermind I fell in love with the guy who put it on. Unrequited, as usual.)

    I'll look forward to your next installment Lollie and your first Rachel. Stream of consciousness. What a great phrase.

    Love,

    Francie
  12. rileyearl

    rileyearl New Member

    will bump for poetry!
  13. rileyearl

    rileyearl New Member

    What a perfect poem about the saddest thing ever.

    the butterfly tells it all.

    Thank you!

    Francie
  14. LollieBoo

    LollieBoo New Member

    Softly lilting, drifting along
    majestic note, in search of a song.
    Watch it jump and dance and play-
    moving slowly, then trickling away...
    Bouncing back to a different beat
    stomping and swinging, moving your feet.
    Up in the air, as high as it dare go,
    then sliding down to the lowest of low...
    Prancing and dancing, climbing stairs-
    Laughing and gaming with invisible players.
    Spin around, then slip through the middle
    Hopping big and skipping little.
    Jazzing up then toning down...
    mini skirt turns to evening gown.
    Softly lilting, drifting along
    majestic note, free of song.

    Copyright 1999, Laura M. Merwin
  15. rileyearl

    rileyearl New Member

    Hey Lollie!

    What a great string of words! I'd like to know what you were listening to when you were inspired to write that. It's a wonderful poem. It feels like music--saxophone music. Send it to the New Yorker!

    Have you ever written songs? I've always admired people who could hear music and translate it to paper. I just don't hear it. Maybe it's because I agonize over commas so much?

    Thank you!

    Francie
  16. LollieBoo

    LollieBoo New Member

    I played the tenor sax for a while and was so in love with it- it makes the most fabulous sounds! I had already learned the clarinet and the bass clarinet, so I already had some base knowledge... but when I picked up the sax, it was like magic! I played so long and hard just from my heart- pouring it into that wonderful instrument and letting it translate... then suddenly it occurred to me that I should write it down. So I did. But now, I have no sax to play :( Too expensive.

    As for any other music- I am illiterate. My very best friend in the whole wide world is a fantastic musician- writes her own songs and plays guitar, sings like an angel... I am envious! She has put some of my poems into song format and "used" them... I was in awe- I don't know how she does it. I do remember the first song she ever wrote, though. We lived together in our first apt at the age of 18. We always had a livingroom full of friends (Well, 18yo's with their own apt!), and one night there was a vivacious conversation going on and she slipped out of the room, and walked back in a hour later. With her guitar. She had written a song about our apt, our life; our friendship. It was beautiful. It took her an hour!!

    Sorry this turned out so long! Thanks for your compliments, though!
    Lollie
  17. rileyearl

    rileyearl New Member

    Please invite your girlfriend to our writer's conference when we get around to having it. I know I would love her to bits.

    You will need to make sure one of your kids learns to play a sax in the school band. Then you can snitch it at night sometimes and go to an underground parking garage and play it all by yourself. More poetry will happen! I heard a man playing one in a garage one time and it was heaven. It was late and I just sat in my car and listened until he finished.

    My three favorite instruments are saxophone, bagpipes and steel drums. I'm hoping to learn how to play those steel drums some day soon. I'll just save the other for listening to because I'm usually overwhelmed with the desire to talk!

    Love,

    Francie
  18. LollieBoo

    LollieBoo New Member

    ...to be writing such sophisticated thoughts and presenting them so delicately. I love the Halloween poem... that is great! I hope she is doing some major writing in college!

    I have to ask if the white box arose from her personal experience. If I shouldn't, tell me, but I am so compelled to know where her poetry gained such mature depth and emotion.

    Francie- I will tell Angie to bring her guitar! She had it put away for a while, and I kept telling her to dig it out and get back that creativity in her life... excuses, excuses... just the other day, she dug him out and called, to say she was getting back in the groove. Isn't it funny, because this thread has me playing with my own creativity again, and she and I have always had a sort of synchronicity in our lives. We were born exactly one week apart. It has to be in our "stars"!

    Lollie
  19. ldbgcoleman

    ldbgcoleman New Member

    A nice diversion from the meds and pain talk!!!! You are all so talented! We call my son Boo Boo all the time. It is very Southern. Lollie (yes you will always be Lollie) Didn't you say you lived in GA for a while or were born here? Once a Southern Girl always a southern girl. If you need me to send you some grits let me know. Lynn

  20. LollieBoo

    LollieBoo New Member

    It is the worst to have to bear the death of a child, regardles of your connection to them. It was a beautiful poem.

    Mmmm- Grits! DH just doesn't get it! He grew up with Cream of Wheat, and I don't get that, so I guess we're even up! My biggest problem has been finding raw, in-the-shell peanuts. I am SO addicted to boiled peanuts from about this time of year through to spring! My step-mommy was sending me them in care packages for a while until I talked a local Super-Wal-Mart into stocking them! They carry okra now, too, and shoepeg corn. Sometimes I can get blackeyed peas, but I would flip if I found some fresh collards!

    Funny story: As "Boo" is not a northern nickname, my son came to decide it was his personal nickname. DH's family, too. So, we went to Atlanta for a visit w/ family and sightseeing. Went to Centennial Park, walked around until DH and I needed a rest. We "parked" on a bench while our son ran around and played with about a dozen other kids on a big playground/ junglegym. When DH decided it was time to go, he announced, "BOO! Come on, time to go!" 13 heads simultaneously snapped to face my DH!! LOL!

    Lollie