it’s not because
I’ve fallen out of
love with you
or dumped you for
some younger, older or
buffer blogging buddy.
It’s because I’m sculpting tunes,
practicing guitar and spying on peeps
from trees in my kelp knitted bikini.
One day I even washed the dishes,
another did a whole load of laundry,
and last Friday I baked an apple!
Other times I do not come to your blog
I’m in the ocean of my mind, helping starfish
fill out applications for their dream jobs.
Many starfish long to be pilots,
pro baseball coaches and assistants
to make-up artists on movies.
The pink one I met today
wants only to be a mermaid
who sells peas at the circus.
(boiled with butter, on a tray with 2 bottles of beer!)
I swim wild here in my ocean.
I bob like some guy named Bob
in pockets of rainbow ripples.
But back to what started this poem…
When I do not come to your blog
it’s also probably because Blue Bunny
and I are singing on street corners
where the saints imbibe.
iPhone pix recently of Kelly at her friends’ outdoor saltwater pool with a plexiglass viewing area.
Posted with love by Jannie, who is behind with blog-reading again, but hopes to get out soon.
xoxooxox
Comments:
What if everything’s a poem?
— the sky in your eyes?
— the leaves of light in your hair?
— the swirls in your lollipop on a Central Park afternoon?
— the shirts on your clothesline smelling like balconies of hope?
— the dance of umbrellas on your miracle of misty morning?
— this moment here in the heart of time?
Okay, Dudes and Dudettes, I believe that was 55 words of flashy fiction for His Excellence, The G-Man.
Posted with love, by Jannie who Highly Recommends the 55 word experience!
xoxoxoxooxoxoxoxox
Comments:
git yourself on over here
and gaze upon your button
on my special Friends Page,
knowing that you are very
special to me, and not diluted
in any way because there
are so many buttons now,
and growing — when I stop to
design and code a new one
instead of walking the windy song moors
swimming with Blue Bunny’s dolphin friends
and photographing mystery flowers.
And if you don’t have a button
yet, or dream of me making you
and Even Lovelier & Better One,
just keep on popping in here
and commenting, knowing that
sooner than later I will notice
your Extreme Awesomeness,
make a friend connection with you
and lo — ye shall be buttonized,
which comes with a 24 / 7 invitation
to join me up in my wine-drinking tree
for as long as we both shall love.
Posted with Extreme Love, by: Jannie of the Wine Singing Way.
Comments:
Belinda in San Francisco
dreams she’s riding a white pony
through a sandstorm of pink roses.
Beautiful Belinda I’ve met only
in blog posts and comments,
as I’ve met most of you
who knock politely at my blog’s door,
you mysterious sweeties leaving
cake and champagne on my top step,
each of you just as awesome as my blue guitar.
55 words of fictional reality inspired by the “Belinda’s Dream” shrub I recently met in our Bontanical Gardens.
55 words for the one, the only, the incomparably incomparable — G-Man.
xoxoxoxoxoo to all.
Comments:
Is it the kind merry
men in tights wooed
young maidens with?
The kind cowboys
sang ’round campfires
after eating beans?
The kind of ballad
damp teens swayed to
at sockhops in 1979?
Or the kind a free bird
in some hotel in California
would climb a stairway to heaven
for front row tickets to hear?
Those 55 words of (mostly) fictional persuasion are for our host — the G-Man.
Post your own 55 — it’s funner than sucking on tequila-dipped french fries.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
Comments:
