Tuesday, July 08, 2008

Back as in Broken Record....

I would be posting pictures of my garden if it weren't so late and I could find my cable-wire-thing so I could upload or is it download my photos. Instead, I am falling back on my recent poetry adventures in my weekly Big Yellow writing group.
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Here I am waxing about love again. I'm coming to the conclusion that my brain is softwired straight to Cole Porter and Irving Berlin and every love song ever written. And why not, I ask? Even my garden spurs me on.
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If a heart can break in two
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Can it break in fours
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And eights
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And sixteens and thirty twos?
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And if it can break in that many pieces
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All small enough to fit in the fold of my hand
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Can I shake those pieces up,
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Shake them in a martini tumbler
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Or hand them to the crappier at Foxwoods
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Ask him to toss them long and hard;
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Watch them tumble all over the surface that is me
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Spilling all that unused love all over the surface that is me
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Like warm raindrops in the August sun.

12 comments:

  1. Sweet KJ :) A "crappier" doesn't sound so sweet - what do they usually do? Never heard of the word before...

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  2. There are a lot of divisions and fractions here. Love multiplies not divides and while it is tangible it is fluid. Whoever broke your heart is a piece of crap! (Ooops. Body fluids). Are you in a crappy mood?

    Actually, I love your poem. I can see how a heart could crumble...

    I touched a human heart once before, to massage it and try to save the life of a 24 year-old. When everything was over, and before we could close her chest. I looked at the tiny organ that fit in my hand, the source of great poetry and channel of all emotions. The heart is more apt to squeeze that the brain.

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  3. anon, ooops, perhaps i am making up words again! i THINK a "crappier" is the person who performs this:

    craps: a game in which two dice are thrown and in which a first throw of 7 or 11 wins, a first throw of 2, 3, or 12 loses, and a first throw of 4, 5, 6, 8, 9, or 10 can be won only by throwing the same number again before throwing a 7.

    ces, the fact that you love this poem is reason for the cartwheel i just did around stella! and you KNOW i would never use that four letter word as in "piece of" due to its association with bodily fluids! imagine our large expansive full hearts fit in our hands. i like the thought of that.
    :)

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  4. okay: i made up my own word. leave it to ces to discover the word is "croupler", not "crappier".

    fortunately, writers take privileges freely and audaciously.

    :)

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  5. Well, if one's heart breaks, that is crap and even crappier if it breaks in pieces. Just admit it that you wanted to use body fluids in a poem.

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  6. no! i admit nothing!

    :)

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  7. Oh crap. I will make you admit.

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  8. Crap, Crappier, Crappiest.

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  9. kj clears her throat and looks upward for guidance.....

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  10. KJ, what's up there? Crap! I don't see anything! I am just excited you're back. Besides you said you were bored with our civil exchanges over at Anon's.

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