Bethy
replying on My Dad's Armchair. by Bethy
5 Sep 2005, 2:47 PM
thank you for your comment, it was very nice of you...:) Bethy
each mind on its own patio...good line...:) Bethy
judgment calls are really hard to make :) Bethy
many a night spent in the good company of fire and beer. bring your friends next time, too. i liked june 11 and quarter past ten in the midst of timeless reflections such as these.
monkey is my cheese!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
thank you bethy; i dont know why your comment was deleted, but yes we all know this dude, and may be a bit like him at times...
that was probably the right thing to do. definitely not the adventurous thing, but probably the right thing. the length of it suits the situation, but i am curious as to what was said for hours on end...
i had the gd fortune to own one of my grandfather's old armchairs, it was the best place to be. simple things are good for writing and reading
The first line-and-a-half is the best opening I've read recently.
lovely...
I am surely not "winter-broken" either...lol...here in Canada, we have winter and winnnnnter...lol...:) Bethy
good memories...we all have them, this is what I write about, fic and non-fic...still there all good feelings...someone always laughs, it either reminds people of themselves or someone...this one reminds me of my buddy Ed...and he was a nutbar... still is...thanks for the belly giggles...lol :) Bethy
Yeah well there are hardly any Christians where I live, and we haven't been pulped by any McHurricaines. It's like all those Muslim fundamentalists who believe the Tsunami was a message from God telling the Indonesians not to adopt Western customs, but to remain fully scarfed-up. Of course the message would have been rather more potent had the Tsunami struck the shores of California, where Nudity runs wide-rife, and where a Gentleman cannot walk Five Paces without brushing up against a Gay.
Yes.
Dovina wakes up on a winter morning and sees the sunrise and thinks it will stay. The other 5,999,999,999 people on earth wake up and say, Oh, a sunrise, too bad it won't stay. But then, they're not poets.
Do you see my point?
PS-Yes, I know it's a metaphor. Ibid.
I suggest changing to title of the poem to either "How Not-Real Angels Sleep" or "Not How Real Angels Sleep, But How Things that Are Kind Of Like Angels (Or Would Be Like Angels If They Didn't Sleep Differently From Angels) Sleep" to avoid confusing us literal-minded.