We went together, slept in Paris together
walked for hours hand in hand
neither of us in love
not with Paris or each other.
It was a kind of freedom
from unhinged ring-binder thoughts,
history came to us to die.
Our eyes sheared away
seeing only child-selves,
we were let loose to be
the sights we saw.
When the train stopped
everyone got off
to travel on,
we stayed in the station
sitting on a platform bench
watching the dust
on the softly singing rails.
Back in the days when fences were constructed to lean on
I had my fathers smile my mother's apron now they're gone
Along with brother's camera and his filming laughter reels
Along with sister's bumbling ways and admiration reals ...
Fences are made to keep in or keep out. Sometimes
Erecting them can be a way of protecting or rejecting
No one knows the power of a fence more then those who
Crossed the holocaust fences and survived. Fences can be
Easing posts for friendship or wired spokes with big fat
Signs that say " Keep Out" it all depends what side your on
Back in the days when my dad build a fence for grapes and vines
I knew what belonged to other people and what was truly mine
Along with my cat, my bird, my three ring binder and my fence
Along with my heart and my soul, I knew what to let in, hence ?
Written by Mystic Rose
Inspired by Harry Horseman
Powerful way to achieve your goals is to create a Goals book
Buy a 3 ring binder
A scrapbook or an 8 ½ x 11 journal
Then create a separate page for each of your goals
Write the goal at top of the page
Illustrate it with pictures
Words and phrases that u cut of magazines
Catalogues and travel brochures that depict your goal as already achieved
As new goals and desires emerge
Simply add it to your list
In your Goals book
Review the pages of your Goals book everyday
Once there was a time.
A long time ago.
As I was looking for a flat.
Making sure it was right for me.
Just so I could make it my own.
I took a walk through the halls.
Way over there, in an out of the way corner.
That's when I saw it, the writing on the wall.
The closer I came, the more I saw a love spell.
Although It was wearing thin from years past.
This is how it read:
She asks if she could get back all the missing
pieces ~ all the pieces she had given away,
To lovers that didn't stay.
All the parts that had been broken, and betrayed.
All the parts that were left out in the rain.
All the parts that were dropped and kicked around.
It said she didn't think they wanted them anyway.
All the parts of herself, she felt she lost along the way.
She asks for all the missing pieces to be returned to her.
If that was ok ~ Just so she wouldn't fade away.
7/ 9 / 2011 8pm
Was looking through a 3 ring binder of my old poetry,
Wandering through verbiage
needing a Muse buttress
against the blue-lined emptiness
toward an expression to
portray the day,
the gift to uplift this life
sprung forth in a 3-ring binder.
Titillating thesaurus (....huh?)
lends only separation from a pen
point. Whats the point?
Wearily mundane homonym's
whistle through synapses
left unfired. Finished?
No, I don't think so ...
and there's the point ... aha!
I can wander and wail
and the reward is all
in the line whether it rhymes
or oozes into oblivion.