The Ballad of Sam and Nona

He came from the dust of bullets and muck

and she with the grace of lilacs and such

Between the two was one fierce soul

two halves that made a whole

Together they could not be beat

he made her tough she made him sweet

they made their way and paid the toll

and slowly grew into two sacred souls.

*****

The Toads are writing Ballads today. I've been away from my poetry for a while busy working of some other projects. This was a good one to get back on tract. I think there's more here but for today that all I got.

Registered Mail

Shay is kicking it old school in the Garden with some old fashioned snail mail. I took a bit of a dark turn turn on this one. The last letter I got was registered mail for the Custody Agreement mediated between me and my Ex - by far my darkest hours. 

I worked in my favourite song of all time Behind Blue Eyes. I posted both versions of the Song - the original by the Who and and remix by Limp Bizkit. I like the Who better. The new version is well sung but they left out the one verse that is my favourite lyric of all time in song or poetry: 

When my fist clenches, crack it open 

Before I use it and lose my cool 

When I smile, tell me some bad news 

Before I laugh and act like a fool 

And If I swallow anything evil 

Put your finger down my throat 

And If I shiver, please give me a blanket 

Keep me warm, let me wear your coat 

[That's why Fred Durst is the Worst.]

Behind Blue Eyes (The Who Original)

I refuse to sign today

for self-inflicted tragedy

the evil that I didn't swallow

my hamster had a speed wobble

then Speedy had a heart attack

I had to stop and take a tick

but if I choke

who'll stick their finger down my throat?

I hate those pricks 

those courthouse bricks of family sicknesses

held by mortar made of horrified 

and mortified little kids

who had to choose

and always loose 

no matter what they did.

Should I sign for misery?

register my apathy?

In the case of him and her 

Overseen by hatchet face

Gunna put me in my place

I'll take the head 

You take the rest 

If I confess would you take less?

Would you feel these feelings like I do? 

and I blame YOU

"Wah Wah Wah Wah Wah"

What the fuck was that?

Charlie Brown's teacher talking 

reading mediated papers

in the the case of me and you

no adultery but we're sick 

of getting screwed

Roger Daultry ringing in my ear

nobody knows what it's like

to be jaded and so faded

and to carry all these lies

Discover whether weekends 

and a birthday here and there

are enough to Limp along 

and show how much I care 

but maybe there's loophole here

maybe I won't fail?

if I never sign 

Maybe I can buy more time

if I never sign 

Registered Mail.

Behind Blue Eyes (The Who Original)

My Wild Woman

Inspire Howl Wing - Ella's Edge

*******

She exploded onto the scene 

with a roar

exaggerated by silence

and patiently waiting

for my Wild Man to mature

She taught me strength 

by embracing weakness

with tender nipples 

and mid month bloating

she showed majesty 

in the face of travesty

She showed me I was too strong

to be powerful

bleeding is beautiful

true beauty moves 

it bends mountains and men

Once her presence was known

she folded into gentle steel

growled quietly

at dangerous strangers

and watched with amusement.

*****

Toads are revisiting old prompts - I chose to get in touch with my wild woman.

It's Okay Day

Just for today we can be
Just be

Just for today it's Okay Day
It's Okay to be fat and white
It's Okay to be black and right
God doesn't take sides today

No stranger danger for today
No bills to pay
No one suffocates today
No one hates today

Even the sick can take a break
Break the chains of yesterday
No one starves or runs from carbs
We even let the bad guys pray

Just for today it's Okay Day
It's Okay baby girl
It's Okay to be afraid
It's just Okay

Just for today we can be
Just be

********

Today the Toads are celebrating our own special holiday in our imaginations - Happy Okay Day :)

Frozen

Post by Wenona Gordon.

*****

Seems like a lifetime
since I've felt sunshine
that north wind keeps blowing

I'm frozen. So frozen.

Wind blown snow angels
hard crusty drifting
across a dark carcass
the lonely forgotten
smashed jack-o-lantern
and Christmas tree ashes
spread solemnly calmly
in deafening stillness
surrounded by breath clouds

So frozen. I'm frozen.

The crack of the ice
a warm breeze at night
icicles trickle and drip
is Mother tricking me?
Roll over and dream of
the sweet smell of spring
out there somewhere
a flickering candle
Lord knows I can't handle
much more of this winter.

I'm frozen. So frozen.

*******

A Poem from a Frozen Toad 

Apple Happy

Inside every apple seed

is a perfect apple tree.

Pure potentiality

engineered delicately.

Inspired by the great divine?

Intelligently designed?

Happy apple accidents,

random happenings of time?

Each seed has the will to be

to manifest its destiny

to grow and bare precious seeds

achieve immortality.

Apple trees never ask why.

Can't bare pears and never try

or lay awake wondering why

branches point towards the sky.

They're just plain old apple happy

******

Today the Toads are inspired by the metrical verse of Robert Frost. One of my favourite American Poets.

The Master

A jolt of joy and promise 

A young man’s wicked smirk 

Dough-soft and putty-pink, 

Nature’s punching bag 

Bullied no longer - he exploded. 

This little pig went ape. 

The smooth structure of night 

The way we feed 

The lavish consumption 

The hunger 

I feel that missing “o” 

Hanging off of a sad moustache. 

In and out and in and out 

Relishing every minute 

Wishing this could rattle on forever. 

Silently, she shows him. 

At the edge - nothing so vulgar 

Life lived to the hilt 

Between the sincere and insincere

The smack of satisfaction 

The ratio of demons to angels 

Where there can be only sorrow 

Sprawled in a haze of heroin 

How crushing addiction can be 

A spirit from the same tribe 

The flame of feeling that stoked 

Inside that ordinary body 

An immaculate jacket 

Helplessly he stands there. 

Arms flapping at his sides. 

Slumming was not an option. 

He joined the barn dance 

His hair neatly brushed by a fussy mother. 

Triggering the blind rage rough red-faced rant. 

The pains that he took 

To camouflage his bag of tricks. 

The full-blooded swagger 

Putting on a show. 

A modest approach 

An unexpected trait 

A force of nature 

The bulk and blaze of him - that’s gone.

********

In memory of Philip Seymour Hoffman. This is a cutout poem for the Imaginary Garden taken from the February 11, 2014 New Yorker article the Master. All the words in this poem are from this article and in the order they appeared.

Mama Likes The House In Order

Mama likes the house in order

every purpose has its place. 

Every tightly tucked emotion

measured out in proper portions

simmered to perfection and 

distributed in equal portions.

Mama Likes The House In Order - Lisa Graham

Inspired by the Art of Lisa Graham and prompted by Grace at the Imaginary Garden

My Creative Space

In my humble opinion Hugh Dillion and the Headstones saved Rock and Roll from Kurt Cobain and the rest of the grunge hippies wannabes in the Nineties. I know that's almost blasphemy this close to Seattle but ... 

Now twenty years later they come out with this and it's just and good as their first. 

*********

"When something stands for nothing a detached memory

this ones about everything you don't think about until you sleep"

I never know why sparks fly no place to run no place to hide

I try to slow it down but I'm just too wired

 "this one's for nothing and this one's for fun"

You talk too much so I double clutch 

stutter step and a sucker punch

I'm a gateway drug but there's not enough 

so I sobered up 'cause that's twice as tough.

"and this one's for rock and roll and comic books and bubble gum"

I think I'm too old to be this mad 

my mid-life angst feel's a little sad

'Cause when I'm in my creative space 

you can't kick the smile off my face

"So this one's for the silence and the questions that it brings

and the smell of time and irreverence and the possibilities."

I never know why sparks fly no place to run no place to hide

I try to slow to down but it's just the way I'm wired

*******

Kerry has us writing about our "creative space" today in the Garden. For me it comes from inside and it comes in waves. I had fun with this one.

This is their first hit from 1990.

Flaming Orbs

Flame Orb - Deborah Glessner 2014

God knows the rocky road I chose

sometimes it was just too damn close 

I'm slower now with room to grow. 

I catch my breath and take a glance 

beyond the pomp and circumstance. 

I bend in gratitude for one more 

second chance but every time my 

bounce comes back I trip and get a 

hitch that knocks me off my stride. 

At times my confidence still limps 

from wars surrendered long ago 

 A message from a glimpse of light - 

A fiery sign I'm not alone. 

A spark of truth that shines on lies

and gives hope to a new sunrise.

The bounce is not to give away

a flaming orb that must survive

and thrive behind the fiery eyes 

of Men with hearts they could not hide.

Men who showed me who I am 

and lit a fire behind my eyes.

The bounce of pride now lives inside 

the flames are too alive to die.

*******

In Loving Memory of Jack Hambleton and Robert Edge.

*******

Margaret has a cool prompt today for the Imaginary Garden. Along with the "Orb Art" of Deborah Glessner, she explains it as follows:

"For me, the word orb conjures up ghosts in the form of balls of light - life forms that are believed by some to be the human soul or life force that once inhabited a physical body here on earth. It is said they have stayed behind because they feel bound to their previous life or previous location for whatever reason."

I believe my Grandfathers stayed behind to look out for me - I have had many unexplainable experiences that have proven this to me. They were both powerful men who weren't afraid to tell me they loved me. When they both passed it had a profound effect on me and I felt like I became stronger.