tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-314568962012-02-20T16:34:12.429-08:00Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.comBlogger10851100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-12378785085634624662012-02-20T16:25:00.000-08:002012-02-20T16:34:12.440-08:00<span ><span style="font-size: 100%;">Ode to intimate friends</span></span><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; ">where ever I turn my head</div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; ">I see you to no end</div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; ">alas I am properly bred</div><div><span ><span style="font-size: 100%;">with </span>societal times of fortie</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; ">s</span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; ">over the sixties breakdown</span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; ">an eighties gala sorties</span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; ">with a year of two and ten</span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; ">but we do not do </span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; ">like we used to</span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; ">we do not dance</span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; ">in a sure trance</span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; ">and life goes on</span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; ">drummer's undone. </span></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-1237878508563462466?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-66994962363087303862012-02-19T14:56:00.000-08:002012-02-19T15:02:19.788-08:00Sunday eve<br />a week ends<br />a new begins;<br />something<br />in the oven<br />to be had<br />for a meal.<br />The clock strikes six<br />and thoughts jump<br />to childhood<br />nights of yore<br />it was special<br />and maybe mine<br />now are not<br />alas<br />how can I compare<br />the 21st<br />with mid 20th?<br />A world apart.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-6699496236308730386?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-22049867401678456102012-02-17T12:33:00.000-08:002012-02-17T12:52:01.348-08:00Passwords to be damned<div>everything needs a p-word</div><div>mnemonical techniques </div><div>of yesteryear are absurd,</div><div>unless you are an ally</div><div>of remembering dit and dots</div><div>with stuff or sure bluff </div><div>or your dear aunt Sally.</div><div>My memory is not to be</div><div>but not not not to see</div><div>that alas paper and pen</div><div>will be of use again.</div><div>So ask for my p -word</div><div>and my eyes go blurred.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-2204986740167845610?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-20267752854916661612012-02-15T17:55:00.000-08:002012-02-17T12:33:20.102-08:00It was a sunny day<div>and the neighborhood felt safe</div><div>except the neighborhood watch</div><div>came out with a warning</div><div>somebody did not belong!</div><div><br /></div><div>As I was reading the</div><div>Boston strangler book</div><div>about the terrible murders</div><div>and mayhem upfront</div><div>it did something else.</div><div><br /></div><div>In a neighborhood safe</div><div>for more than 21 years</div><div>of quietly not <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">derring</span>-do</div><div>I realized that now reality</div><div>truly sets in somehow.</div><div><br /></div><div>In comparison with others</div><div>an occasional beat-up wife</div><div>a drunken man - two teenagers</div><div>who LSD tripped -fell</div><div>and are both wheelchair bound.</div><div><br /></div><div>Otherwise I have unwisely</div><div>perhaps but steadily</div><div>left car-doors open - albeit</div><div>the cars had nothing in them</div><div>and stick-shift safety.</div><div><br /></div><div>No more open cars windows</div><div>no more unlocked doors</div><div>in summers - at night</div><div>when walking the dog</div><div>now I feel reality too close!!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-2026775285491666161?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-7828969956826452422012-02-14T11:37:00.000-08:002012-02-14T11:43:41.812-08:00Valentine's Day<div>2012</div><div>the old broad's</div><div>expanding rep;</div><div>Vagina's day.</div><div><br /></div><div>Valentine's Day</div><div>1968</div><div>the young maiden</div><div>expectant</div><div>V - day's</div><div>disappointment.</div><div><br /></div><div>Love and lust</div><div>what wins with</div><div>the sacred V,</div><div>somewhere </div><div>in between.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-782896995682645242?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-15754620189636014322012-02-12T06:30:00.000-08:002012-02-12T06:42:08.810-08:00The ring - <div>I survived it</div><div>a phantasmogoric</div><div>fairy tale with a machine</div><div>I think the maestro</div><div>would have liked it.</div><div>The Mets</div><div>fabulous casts</div><div>can be had of</div><div>everyman in HD</div><div>live you see</div><div>it returns </div><div>to the Rhine.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-1575462018963601432?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-6434505086509849642012-02-11T05:24:00.000-08:002012-02-11T05:28:49.981-08:00February flows<div>with wintry white snowy flakes</div><div>a fabulous morn.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-643450508650984964?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-61423789988799778602012-02-09T16:35:00.000-08:002012-02-09T16:40:56.456-08:00As a poet I may stink<div>to some younger hearts</div><div>but don't deny me the right</div><div>to say- just what</div><div>I feel like - smarts</div><div>to me it may not be what </div><div>you personally seek</div><div>do not judge until</div><div>you have walked the miles</div><div>in my shoes - at will</div><div>poets try hard to delve</div><div>whatever it is they convey</div><div>but another thing is totally this</div><div>will you get laid - or </div><div>just the heart inside betrayed.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-6142378998879977860?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-20908007790280513812012-02-08T07:53:00.000-08:002012-02-08T08:06:47.989-08:00You ain't seen nothing yet<div>cleaning out closets - shelves</div><div>but they sure don't do it</div><div>all by themselves -</div><div>Phew!</div><div><br /></div><div>A life passing by </div><div>in form of stuff</div><div>enough is enough.</div><div><br /></div><div>No more baggage of any kind</div><div>only a remodeled mind<br /><div>to be had for the future</div></div><div>must be a sure found bet.</div><div><br /></div><div>Working on it now</div><div>for a couple of weeks</div><div>I am sure it takes</div><div>with many more breaks</div><div>but my goal is clear</div><div>even if it takes me a year;</div><div>I shall continue my quest.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-2090800779028051381?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-82141740784901767692012-02-03T14:13:00.000-08:002012-02-04T16:20:33.230-08:00Throwing out stuff<div>papers from 15 years plus<div>is depressing</div><div>but</div><div>if I don't do it now</div><div>somebody else would have to at</div><div>my demise</div><div>so</div><div>It is better for me</div><div>to have a big clean out</div><div>definitely</div><div>yes</div><div>it is time to let go</div><div>of kids' stuff and more</div></div><div>sadly deferential</div><div>somehow</div><div>they are old enough</div><div>to face their own childhood</div><div>grades - delightful</div><div>alas</div><div>life always looks better</div><div>with rose-tinted glasses</div><div>a dreamers world</div><div>so</div><div>giving up motherly control</div><div>is not a bad thing</div><div>independence </div><div>yaeh!</div><div> </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-8214174078490176769?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-51395511418069095582012-02-02T16:33:00.000-08:002012-02-02T16:40:23.469-08:00Facebook has gone public<div>all the rest of it - is junk</div><div>any one feel secure to-day?</div><div>wash you ha(i)rebrained funk, </div><div>only an idiot would think</div><div>that twilight truly is debunk'd. </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-5139551141806909558?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-56551321025584240102012-02-01T11:22:00.001-08:002012-02-01T11:34:46.346-08:00<div>My bucket list </div><div>is simple -</div><div>see Florence again-</div><div>gape at <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Rijksmuseum</span></div><div>enjoy the tulips in bloom-</div><div>go along the Normandy beaches</div><div>and play golf in Scotland -</div><div>look at my growing grand kids</div><div>walk along the trusty road</div><div>that I know so well </div><div>in my little village</div><div>and even once more</div><div>take a peek at my hometown</div><div>talk with my old friends</div><div>and see my children</div><div>lead fulfilling lives -</div><div>but for now I walk the dog</div><div>in the February sunshine.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-5655132102558424010?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-39014435699276908942012-01-31T06:41:00.000-08:002012-01-31T06:48:27.540-08:00Diurnal longings<div>for something else</div><div>turn to gripes</div><div>on your self</div><div>away bad thoughts</div><div>of a certain kind</div><div>a woolen scarf</div><div>to securely wind</div><div>around your neck</div><div>on a daily journey -</div><div>otherwise you'll</div><div>end up on a gurney.</div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-3901443569927690894?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-13836235880728551342012-01-30T05:27:00.000-08:002012-01-30T05:44:07.145-08:00Rewiring in youngster's brains<div>due to all electronic games</div><div>worries a modern grandma.</div><div><br /></div><div>From the day in the womb</div><div>all a fetus hears - until the tomb</div><div>voices - music - and blip blops.</div><div><br /></div><div>Talked to a reading specialist</div><div>she was a sure realist</div><div>to motivate kids to read.</div><div><br /></div><div>Nobody's found a new way</div><div>to reach the lost ones every day:</div><div>read and write for survival.</div><div><br /></div><div>Send an email/text whatever</div><div>for modern technology deliver</div><div>directly to their "inbox".</div><div><br /></div><div>That would be my solution</div><div>for educators' revolution</div><div>of teaching reading: join it.</div><div> </div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-1383623588072855134?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-91632589635345623402012-01-26T06:55:00.000-08:002012-01-26T06:58:08.076-08:00Crossword puzzles start<div>the daily routine gentle</div><div>exercise of brain.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-9163258963534562340?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-2495430197216133592012-01-25T16:39:00.000-08:002012-01-25T16:48:21.260-08:00Hey, you deliver<div>our mail</div><div>I see you wave</div><div>every time</div><div>I walk the dog</div><div>yet</div><div>I know nothing</div><div>about you.</div><div><br /></div><div>We talked a teensy</div><div>bit today,</div><div>while you delivered </div><div>a parcel needing </div><div>a signature,</div><div>and I reminisced</div><div>that I had seen you</div><div>when I lived in</div><div>the apartment more</div><div>than 25 years ago.</div><div><br /></div><div>You said that you</div><div>had worked for the Postal</div><div>service for 26 years.</div><div><br /></div><div>Wow, you know </div><div>so much about what mail</div><div>I get etc. etc.</div><div>and I know nothing </div><div>about you except</div><div>your gentle smile.</div><div><br /></div><div>So next time I see you,</div><div>Mr. Postman,</div><div>I shall ask your name!</div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-249543019721613359?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-12021379650762818062012-01-25T11:39:00.000-08:002012-01-25T11:42:39.478-08:00Plodding <div>fuddling</div><div>rotting</div><div>nuttin'</div><div>cyclus.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-1202137965076281806?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-50379570751949946002012-01-24T12:36:00.000-08:002012-01-24T12:58:00.777-08:00Dog is walking weirdly<div>like she is have arthritis</div><div>but she cannot tell -</div><div>is it her paw</div><div>or shoulder or</div><div>a more serious matter?</div><div>She cannot say</div><div>so my observation skills</div><div>have to be astute</div><div>as when the kids were little.</div><div>You guess - you weigh</div><div>you sometimes err</div><div>but never let it go.</div><div>One day - you might</div><div>need that someone </div><div>to watch over you</div><div>intensely with tenderness.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-5037957075194994600?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-72982588110803110002012-01-22T13:00:00.000-08:002012-01-22T13:18:35.499-08:00News and news about a Newt<div>can the election get more screwed?</div><div>Fearing the fellow - with a piccadillo</div><div>seemingly big - a conservative billow.</div><div>Unfortunately for the voters</div><div>he is kind of a bloater</div><div>but very intelligent with power</div><div>he will the electorate scour.</div><div>Beware of the Grinch</div><div>he will the middle lynch.</div><div>Never mind the poor</div><div>he will show them the door.</div><div>Only the rich need apply</div><div>to justice - a solemn good-bye.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-7298258811080311000?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-89885628330443892592012-01-20T11:25:00.000-08:002012-01-20T11:39:01.729-08:00Bananas <div>my dog likes them</div><div>I like them too,</div><div>Bananas.</div><div><br /></div><div>Bananas</div><div>She drools whenever</div><div>I open one.</div><div>Bananas.</div><div><br /></div><div>Oranges</div><div>my dog likes them</div><div>I like them too</div><div>Oranges.</div><div><br /></div><div>Oranges </div><div>She wants them</div><div>I want them too</div><div>Oranges</div><div><br /></div><div>Chocolate</div><div>my dog likes it</div><div>I like it</div><div>Chocolate.</div><div><br /></div><div>Chocolate</div><div>She want it</div><div>I want it too</div><div>Chocolate</div><div><br /></div><div>Dog poop</div><div>She makes it</div><div>I don't like </div><div>to pick it up </div><div>But I surely do.</div><div>Dog poop</div><div><br /></div><div>Dog poop</div><div>She wants it</div><div>If I let her</div><div>she will eat it too</div><div>Dog poop</div><div><br /></div><div>So we differ</div><div>my dog and I</div><div>That's all</div><div>there's to it.</div><div>I whiffer</div><div>she sniffers.</div><div>Vive that.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-8988562833044389259?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-44140137664072126552012-01-19T07:48:00.001-08:002012-01-19T08:03:41.932-08:00Animals do not pray <div>but many of them prey</div><div>on other species </div><div>(occasionally on their own).</div><div>Humans do pray</div><div>and most of them prey</div><div>on animals and often on their own</div><div>in the name of belief.</div><div>Religions come in handy</div><div>for humans to blame,</div><div>I did it in the God's name.</div><div><br /></div><div><span ><i>(Dedicated to G. Carlin and</i></span></div><div><span ><i>B. Mayer)</i></span></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><div><br /></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-4414013766407212655?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-51115313072336556452012-01-17T18:00:00.000-08:002012-01-17T18:43:38.884-08:00From metstreaming<div>to the SOPA protest</div><div>of taking Wikipedia</div><div>of the net for 24 hours</div><div>what a night -</div><div>Handel or Haendel</div><div>Papa of Baroque</div><div>plus</div><div>-</div><div>in front of the Internet</div><div>of intellectual freedom</div><div>beware of legislation</div><div>-</div><div>consciousness </div><div>of streams</div><div>ideas and notes</div><div>thrills - frills</div><div>-</div><div>just another day</div><div>on earth</div><div> </div><div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-5111531307233655645?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-89412506402233551792012-01-17T07:32:00.000-08:002012-01-17T07:48:10.415-08:00Returning home from down<div>under during weird summer's</div><div>days</div><div>A moment later in wintry old</div><div>my ailments reboot with no</div><div>delay</div><div>So having been in change</div><div>of weather for a month's </div><div>time</div><div>it cannot be in my head</div><div>but in the current climate</div><div>malign.</div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-8941250640223355179?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-3910284271050501282012-01-16T06:14:00.000-08:002012-01-16T06:23:25.916-08:00headache hammering<div>haunted hellish heartfelt hurt</div><div>harrowing human</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-391028427105050128?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-39398327380335514502012-01-11T19:00:00.001-08:002012-01-12T13:20:33.130-08:00bulls being butchered<div>in the abattoir</div><div>at 300 an hour</div><div>not quiet dead yet</div><div>butchers go back</div><div>at night to violent videos</div><div>whatever...</div><div><br /></div><div>hunters hunt their prey</div><div>cut throats with knives</div><div>or machetes</div><div>for fun or just because</div><div>is it a game or what?</div><div><br /></div><div>hangmen see and smell</div><div>their duty </div><div>electric chair or needle?</div><div>which is faster?</div><div>the smell of the charred flesh</div><div>the nostrils picks it up</div><div><br /></div><div>military forces root</div><div>men to kill</div><div>dehumanizing their prey</div><div> </div><div>what do the killing</div><div>young machines feel -</div><div>the first one </div><div>a man like you</div><div>alive and then gone -</div><div>gunning a whole village</div><div>mutant - mensch</div><div>no more</div><div>dreams thoughts</div><div>haunt until</div><div><br /></div><div><i><span>on reading Killing </span></i></div><div><i><span>by Jeff Sparrow</span></i></div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-3939832738033551450?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-47109284557310543472012-01-11T14:40:00.000-08:002012-01-11T14:41:30.807-08:00Quiet stillness<div>after or before</div><div>makes me wish</div><div>for something more.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-4710928455731054347?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-34443251609171788672012-01-10T13:28:00.000-08:002012-01-10T13:34:18.271-08:00<div>Four seasons or more</div><div>all of it or less in a day</div><div>so when you travel</div><div>down under this way</div><div>this craziness and charm</div><div>is the truth of</div><div>a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Melbournian</span> stay.</div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-3444325160917178867?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-42816127293312033182012-01-09T14:15:00.000-08:002012-01-09T14:52:36.361-08:00Go with me<div>on a walk</div><div>in the past</div><div>in the present</div><div><br /></div><div>Go with me</div><div>on a trip</div><div>to a park</div><div>to a place</div><div><br /></div><div>Go with me</div><div>on a break</div><div>for a while</div><div>for a time</div><div><br /></div><div>Go with me</div><div>on a quest</div><div>into the soul</div><div>into the self</div><div><br /></div><div>A mirror</div><div>of you</div><div>is found there</div><div>A mirage</div><div>of me</div><div>is bound here.</div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-4281612729331203318?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-199474766417794742012-01-08T12:44:00.000-08:002012-01-08T14:03:37.379-08:00Venus Bay<div>on the coast</div><div>sandy beaches</div><div>wild water tides</div><div>surfers' rides</div><div>pipis digs</div><div>grandsons' </div><div>lithe little bodies</div><div>wine visits</div><div>family together</div><div>not enough to do</div><div>so card games galore</div><div>uno's encores</div><div>a strange mix</div><div>of fellowship</div><div>sadness -</div><div>between screams</div><div>and laughter</div><div>and</div><div>dead birds</div><div>versus ice creams</div><div>just</div><div>another</div><div>family having</div><div>a holiday</div><div>somewhere else.</div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-19947476641779474?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-2274467665516122482011-12-31T14:40:00.000-08:002011-12-31T14:56:17.771-08:00Mayan 2012<div>an apocalypse</div><div>Nostradamus'</div><div>predictions</div><div>astrologers' </div><div>premonitions</div><div>must shelve</div><div>maybe an eclipse</div><div>of the sun</div><div>and the moon</div><div>live your life</div><div>fully day by day</div><div>otherwise you</div><div>will be a buffoon.</div><div>Grab each moment</div><div>twist it around</div><div>your fingers hard</div><div>a life's component.</div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-227446766551612248?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-33351652600301446972011-12-28T14:55:00.000-08:002011-12-28T15:53:14.728-08:00Flowering friendship<div><div>rarest of rarebits</div></div><div>this cuddly cocoon is</div><div>a heedful haven</div><div>on a tense turf</div><div>a conversational</div><div>clearing of mind</div><div>plus a full feeling</div><div>of breathing light.</div><div>Every time you</div><div>provide this air</div><div>of incredible irrigation</div><div>started so long ago -</div><div>an awesome adventure</div><div>in the precious predicament</div><div>called life and living.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><i><span >To Isabel and Terry</span></i></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-3335165260030144697?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-26611249116291605902011-12-21T14:29:00.000-08:002011-12-21T14:35:22.801-08:00On Aussie shores in summertime<div>far away from Yuletide</div><div>celebrations abound</div><div>no snow - no wind from the east</div><div>no coldness in the air</div><div>the Christmas flower blooms.</div><div>A white - stunningly wild -</div><div>reminding Australians</div><div>it is that time again.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><i>To my daughter-in law</i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><i>for showing her Christmas flower</i></span></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-2661124911629160590?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-53184756657565892712011-12-18T03:29:00.000-08:002011-12-18T13:49:22.517-08:00Cuddle - cuddle - arms around<div>abundance of little people's love</div><div>no questioning the relations</div><div>how easy it is to be part of</div><div>cuddle - cuddle - arms around.</div><div><br /></div><div>Muddle - muddle legs around</div><div>abundance of teens self-inspect</div><div>all demanding of anything</div><div>how different the prospect</div><div>muddle - muddle legs around.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Wuddle</span>-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">wuddle</span> taking care</div><div>my adult son - faithfully bound</div><div>by responsibility of fatherhood</div><div>manhood -totally healthily sound</div><div><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Wuddle</span> - <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">wuddle</span> taking care.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><i><br /></i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><i>wuddle- according to urban dictionary</i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><i>to walk and cuddle at the same time</i></span></div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-5318475665756589271?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-7737313225876317932011-12-13T12:13:00.000-08:002011-12-13T12:16:32.751-08:00Grandsons in the park<div>breezy day of clouds and sun<div>happening is real.</div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-773731322587631793?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-24393407728727958932011-12-11T11:48:00.000-08:002011-12-11T11:58:58.523-08:00Jet lag this time is nil<div>I am wondering at will</div><div>why this time it is easy</div><div>and time change breezy</div><div>cannot get it- except</div><div>the pill that me swept</div><div>not for a snooze on the plane</div><div>a feat: I am not insane!</div><div>Very grateful for this doze</div><div>moving on - life flows.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-2439340772872795893?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-35245244819536147222011-12-08T05:27:00.000-08:002011-12-10T12:05:27.483-08:00Leaving a chilly dawn<div>for the warmth down</div><div>under gladdens </div><div>an old granny</div><div>now that the day</div><div>has come and so far</div><div>I am not dead yet</div><div>the hours until</div><div>gransons are long</div><div>but I can count them.</div><div><br /></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" >To grannies who rarely</span></i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" >see their offsprings'</span></i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" >offspring</span></i></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-3524524481953614722?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-61166744820297185682011-12-05T17:22:00.000-08:002011-12-10T12:03:39.569-08:00Daughter's operatic vocals<div>fills the whole house</div><div>even though she is downstairs</div><div>and I am upstairs</div><div>It makes me wonder</div><div>thoroughly</div><div>how these singers</div><div>tolerate this from each </div><div>other when on stage.</div><div>Maybe they are just</div><div>like babies who scream </div><div>their highest </div><div>other bambinis seem</div><div>unaffected by their yell.</div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" >(An opera mom's thoughts)</span></i></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-6116674482029718568?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-70363807228167810012011-12-04T07:22:00.000-08:002011-12-04T12:06:06.051-08:00Pardons' mandate<div>colorblindness</div><div><div>justice is not</div></div><div>at all rightness</div><div>stains of bias </div><div>shame likeness.</div><div><br /></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" > on reading in the Washington Post about</span></i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" > the differences in gaolers' pardon</span></i></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-7036380722816781001?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-55700303390231314812011-12-03T19:17:00.001-08:002011-12-04T12:43:38.135-08:00Deep pathos of a diva's lamentation<div>or the grand gesture of heroic sacrifice</div><div>draws instantly to thrills of harmonies</div><div>animas wih a need to interconnect.</div><div>Just the notes of fathomless longing</div><div>yield strange but exquisite encounters</div><div>only to float seranadingly off in </div><div>the final pulsetto of the two wanderers.</div><div><br /></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" >Pulsetto defined as a tempo beat of the heart</span></i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" >maybe a slight bit faster than normal</span></i></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-5570030339023131481?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-38091091775989343422011-12-03T05:18:00.000-08:002011-12-03T05:29:43.594-08:00<div style="text-align: justify;">a tree trunk temper'd in</div><div>pale suffused winter sunlight</div><div>winks at the dawned day</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-3809109177598934342?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-85538603615991787612011-11-30T04:58:00.000-08:002011-12-02T10:58:22.814-08:00An elf has been left out<div>for whole year - wow</div><div>what will he do</div><div>of mischief now?</div><div>Since they come and</div><div>enjoy the tidings of</div><div>Yulemonth festives </div><div>candles, cards of love.</div><div>Must put him up</div><div>elsewhere tonight </div><div>otherwise he will</div><div>therwise he will </div><div>us haunt with spite<i><span class="Apple-style-span" >.</span></i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></i></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre; "><i><span class="Apple-style-span" >(Paper cuts that magically</span></i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre; "><i><span class="Apple-style-span" >appear in the month of Dec.</span></i> </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><i>at our house)</i></span></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-8553860361599178761?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-12396354763739609502011-11-29T17:43:00.000-08:002011-11-29T18:19:38.465-08:00<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Philosophying</span> intensely<div>vilifies the true <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">cognoscenta</span>.</div><div>All it takes is a nasal drip</div><div>out goes the mind -</div><div>the spirit and the body -</div><div>me a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">rejectamenta</span>!</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-1239635476373960950?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-23346404664832320502011-11-26T07:54:00.000-08:002011-11-26T08:25:49.672-08:00English language<div>knocks the ideas</div><div>absorbing words</div><div>of all kinds.</div><div>I muse about</div><div>this flexibility</div><div>and applaud</div><div>that I can invent</div><div>a phraseology,</div><div>unknown today,</div><div>but tomorrow</div><div>it shall be hailed</div><div>as a new option.</div><div>That slang enters</div><div>and all of a sudden</div><div>it truly becomes </div><div>oddly mainstream</div><div>and therefore </div><div>bores the poets</div><div>alas - a word will</div><div>not come to be</div><div>so let the keyboard</div><div>be the inventor -</div><div>novembismus.</div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" >Novembismus: a noun,</span></i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" >signifying the feeling of late November</span></i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" >and the craziness before the holiday, the</span></i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" >last breath before going out on black Friday.</span></i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" >Poetess never suffers from novembismus,</span></i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" >because she does not venture out on Black Friday.</span></i> </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-2334640466483232050?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-39361077036765562382011-11-25T08:32:00.000-08:002011-11-25T08:41:57.731-08:00European souls<div>of the lost expats</div><div>will bloom only</div><div>when then they</div><div>return to the soils</div><div>of the lost grounds</div><div>of blood and tears.</div><div>A new wave of trials</div><div>ne'er before dawn</div><div>to wake up -</div><div>home - a daze</div><div>of the unseen</div><div>sad utopians.</div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-3936107703676556238?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-30729834984531016932011-11-24T06:05:00.000-08:002011-11-24T06:27:23.345-08:00<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); "> Hubby's new iPhone</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); "> </span><div><div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469);">A gem to behold<br /></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469);">Would be great </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469);">If I could it control !</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); "> </span></div><div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469);"><br /></span><div><div><div><br /></div><div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-3072983498453101693?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-35997813608465732182011-11-23T05:27:00.000-08:002011-11-23T06:01:00.510-08:00A woman I know<br /><div>was told in no certain terms</div><div>that she is dying</div><div>and why has she not checked </div><div>into hospice yet!</div><div><br /></div><div>She is alive and working</div><div>trying to live her life</div><div>as she knows it.</div><div>Nobody knows how</div><div>the doc phrased his message.</div><div><br /></div><div>From a nurse friend I understood</div><div>that the doctors are required</div><div>to tell their patients</div><div>the cruel facts when there is</div><div>no more that they can do.</div><div><br /></div><div>Bedside manners matter</div><div>more than ever -</div><div>there are ways to tell</div><div>with empathy</div><div>that you are dying.</div><div><br /></div><div>Alas, mayhap this doctor</div><div>needs a remedial course</div><div>in phraseology of kindness</div><div>or</div><div>the doctor was sad and</div><div>this was his third patient</div><div>that day to swing the ax over.</div><div><br /></div><div>The recipient of this earful</div><div>worries even more</div><div>the mind hears only this,</div><div>You are a goner. </div><div>Present the message mercifully. </div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-3599781360846573218?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-31909759463642113072011-11-22T04:38:00.000-08:002011-11-22T04:47:05.505-08:00My bane has always been<div>the damnable common cold</div><div>I realized not long ago</div><div>being 60 plus something old</div><div>that numbers of the mean</div><div>are 300 plus of snot flow! </div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-3190975946364211307?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-72047743030131630682011-11-21T07:26:00.000-08:002011-11-21T07:35:09.071-08:00New York City <div>in the autumn </div><div>gallivanting around</div><div>the busy thoroughfares</div><div>away from suburbia</div><div>into the arms</div><div>of life-strikes -</div><div>a will-o'-the-wisp. </div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-7204774303013163068?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-84912610003580083682011-11-16T06:25:00.000-08:002011-11-16T06:50:33.831-08:00Fairy weather tales<br />of woes and whatnots<br />once the rainy splots<br />wear winter quails.<br /><br />Old crones of Wales<br />tell stories of hots<br />alas not great shots<br />but dreary wails.<br /><br />So ends the dales<br />of deep granny knots<br />anger cannot rot<br />the soul is frail.<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><em>quail: it is according to OED</em></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><em>a courtesan, or a young woman</em></span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-8491261000358008368?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-74517192643391317492011-11-14T16:00:00.000-08:002011-11-14T16:14:18.139-08:00Oh, from the lovely little country<div>I still call my own</div><div>I have it outgrown</div><div>only to realize- this is my foundry!</div><div><br /></div><div>Where I was born and bred</div><div>I can relate albeit</div><div>sitting in a seat </div><div>far away - as a cylinder head?</div><div><br /></div><div>Yes of course - a spinning top<br />but only when</div><div>the true quill pen</div><div>and the heart says stop.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-7451719264339131749?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-21365980724326102682011-11-13T08:57:00.000-08:002011-11-14T16:00:20.973-08:00A vibrator play<div>sex lacking on stage</div><div>so true even today</div><div>a woman's page.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><i>On seeing Sarah Ruhl's play</i></span> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-2136598072432610268?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-5207537487048177582011-11-11T06:31:00.001-08:002011-11-11T06:39:18.351-08:00<div>When wars are fought</div><div>the cooks disappear</div><div>in the fields of fights.</div><div>The laymen/women</div><div>of any sort</div><div>we never hear of</div><div>their heroics?</div><div>They all deserve a page,</div><div>we are a chain</div><div>and some of the</div><div>hooks get more polish</div><div>than others, alas.</div><div><br /></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" >(To the unknown fighters and everybody else</span></i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" >who due to human whims have to fight wars.</span></i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" >11/11/11)</span></i></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-520753748704817758?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-49000079608787746332011-11-10T05:51:00.000-08:002011-11-10T06:00:19.242-08:00A doctor prescribed a procedure<div>I thought it was fluff -</div><div>removing something</div><div>that is shrinking day by day.</div><div>I cancelled the ordeal.</div><div>My internist's office called</div><div>she wants me to call the </div><div>doctor again to see if I am right.</div><div>Truly wondering - do I have</div><div>any say over my own body? </div><div>I have made another appointment</div><div>unbeknownst to them</div><div>to get a second opinion.</div><div>According to the laws of my state</div><div>if I have to have a procedure</div><div>I must have a second opinion.</div><div>So until then me and my</div><div>now tiny blob on my skin</div><div>will await until just then.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-4900007960878774633?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-71066979559711861512011-11-08T12:33:00.000-08:002011-11-08T12:39:48.408-08:00A glass of flaming burgundy<br />is swirled inside my mouth<br />as its flavors sends out<br />stunning sparks of taste<br />remembering romance<br />down my thirsty throat.<br /><br /><span style="font-family: times new roman;">(An anacreontic form)</span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-7106697955971186151?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-48003379037025505032011-11-06T13:12:00.000-08:002011-11-06T13:24:38.872-08:00Wandering souls<div>flying around the universe -</div><div>is the space big enough</div><div>for little me?</div><div>Watering souls</div><div>swimming around the sea</div><div>are the oceans big enough</div><div>for tiny me?</div><div>Walking souls</div><div>pedestrianize around the earth</div><div>are the lands too big</div><div>for itty me?</div><div><br /></div><div>Somewhere the me</div><div>will rest - just not yet</div><div>on its aery, splazy, wobbly path.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-4800337903702550503?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-38169940911318362202011-11-02T06:17:00.000-07:002011-11-02T06:45:14.142-07:00Trenet's song of the sea<div>version Django Reinhardt/Stephane Grappelli</div><div>embodies what this sea lover</div><div>dreams of walking along a beach</div><div>on the Mediterranean. </div><div>To be there now would be a warm wave</div><div>of bodily amour </div><div>on a cold November morn</div><div>sitting at the keyboard</div><div>drinking coffee.</div><div>Come what may I will always</div><div>have - not Paris, but "la Mer".</div><div> </div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-3816994091131836220?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-38130439429841579162011-10-30T07:55:00.000-07:002011-10-30T07:55:20.980-07:00A fetus is now a legal person<br />with own rights in many states -<br />its mom is just a birthing machine!<br />If the mom's life is in danger -<br />fetus's right takes over<br />kills mom<br />and everybody is happy!<br /><br />Where is the personal freedom<br />of a woman to make her<br />own&nbsp;individually right&nbsp;choice<br />for her own body and soul?<br />Not going back to the back alleys<br />but if necessary we may have to<br />saving the life of mom and her sanity!<br /><br /><br /><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-3813043942984157916?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-59324452175950770142011-10-29T07:56:00.000-07:002011-10-29T08:05:03.345-07:00Slush - flush - world in gray<br />cold iciness with wet flakes<br />slushctober slams out.<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Slushtober: Slush and October</span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-5932445217595077014?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-17942093788580865882011-10-26T17:36:00.000-07:002011-10-26T18:00:51.802-07:00"<span style="font-style:italic;">I own with reason: for, if men but knew <br />Some fixed end to ills, they would be strong <br />By some device unconquered to withstand religions and the menacings of seers."<br /></span> Lucretius (roman Poet)<br /><br />Oh wild west wind<br />no that poem has been written<br />one shoe two blue shoes<br />again that stanza had its run. <br /> <br />Alas, eons of years ago<br />before I arrived on this merry-go-around<br />a brilliant man has thought the same - ! <br /><br />So how can anyone dare to write<br />anything because plus cela change<br />plus c'est la meme chose.<br /><br />And yet, each poet, each writer,<br />even each primary schooler scribbles<br />in the hope that something new<br />will erupt out of the morass<br />out of the mixture of words<br />following certain rules<br />at least trying to suppress the norms<br /><br />no rules - becomes the rule<br />hence the henchman of words<br />Kill not the poet -<br />hail the message<br />or vice versa - total obscurity.<br />today in poetry - therefore<br />we have to revert to<br />old tried rhythms and blues<br />(alas another cliche)<br />a full glorious moon<br />a sad wintry morn<br />a bleak beige daybreak<br />pick your picture -<br />cut and paste <br />with luck - you end up<br />with a sonnet or <br />a bonnet where the bees<br />can frolic <br />a thought is no longer<br />a solid....<br />(fill in the blank yourself, dear reader!)<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-1794209378858086588?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-83304421462236493272011-10-24T09:25:00.001-07:002011-10-24T09:30:19.831-07:00cooking for friends<br />is fun and delectable<br />cutting veggies<br />salting the water<br />poaching an egg<br />a little vinegar<br />baking a cake<br />will add sugar<br />life is cooking<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-8330442146223649327?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-48324633037516244942011-10-19T11:37:00.001-07:002011-10-19T11:44:46.256-07:00Those damned kilos<br />those extra 4-5 ones<br />I hate them,<br />I deplore that at the present<br />I cannot get rid of their presence.<br />They bother my self<br />they make feel a lump.<br />I have got<br />to get them to rot<br />I have to get off my lazy duff.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-4832463303751624494?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-4308064808033588172011-10-17T15:44:00.000-07:002011-10-17T15:52:00.462-07:00Sweet tooth every night<br />scary thought all right<br />gummy bear and worms<br />the world will churn<br />my stomach upside down<br />calories somewhat abound<br />and tooth decay for show<br />my dentist will know<br />the scales in my bathroom<br />will somehow make room<br />for my nightly indulgence <br />I alas claim impotence.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-430806480803358817?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-29140111963179623832011-10-16T13:52:00.000-07:002011-10-16T14:15:45.233-07:00Facebook can be revealing<br />and go back in time<br />to when oldies were young<br />it can be very appealing<br />and darned sublime<br />but where time was hung<br />between the past freewheeling<br />of mourning's enzymes.<br />Showing what was and what is<br />can reflect good taste<br />or some younger crowds<br />will say - oh what waste<br />but one day - they'll be proud<br />of their parents' showcase<br />of common heritage nids.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-2914011196317962383?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-36586445252696444252011-10-11T19:57:00.000-07:002011-10-11T20:15:06.092-07:00Atlantis weaves in<br />and out of histories <br />from Plato to Nazism<br />and everything in between.<br />Island or continent,<br />the idea of a lost state<br />haunts even today<br />the archeologists.<br />If it were true<br />if we could find it<br />would it be different<br />than in the mind's eyes<br />for thousand years?<br />Schlieman found Troy,<br />will somebody find<br />the lost realm?<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-3658644525269644425?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-84645933359887898512011-10-06T14:05:00.000-07:002011-10-06T14:10:22.027-07:00Dog behavior is stranger<br />than usual, my sweet pet,<br />what ails you?<br />Sometimes I wish we could<br />have the conversation<br />of your day versus mine.<br />I think I failed you.<br />I leave you stranded a<br />at home - almost three days<br />every week, yet<br />when I come home<br />no hard feelings<br />just a wagging tail.<br />Am I lucky or what? <br />Just one thing, you do know<br />I love you.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-8464593335988789851?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-80813657375526742732011-10-04T14:02:00.000-07:002011-10-04T14:10:33.179-07:00Hail to the philosopher!<br />Your free spirit impresses<br />perhaps you can teach<br />a twenty-one centenarian<br />timeless truths of<br />innovative freethinking<br />Alexandrian society?<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-8081365737552674273?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-89603660652791431922011-10-01T15:45:00.000-07:002011-10-01T15:58:47.234-07:00I lament the fact<br />that September has gone<br />the coldness in the works<br />and autumn has begun<br />with a vengeance<br />my mood's deference<br />to darker days ahead<br />glorious gloom embed'<br />climate's gentle perks<br />red wines me detract.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-8960366065279143192?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-4576696323339170022011-09-26T13:43:00.000-07:002011-09-26T14:01:58.817-07:00Ants attack in my kitchen<br />I do not like it a smidgen<br />they creep and they crawl<br />they run and they sprawl<br />one hole is closed<br />but a dozen more exposed<br />what more can we do<br />clean up any food goo<br />chemically killing them<br />creates alas a mayhem<br />all the ones here condemn'<br />my food larder a pure gem<br />for the ants and their "femme"<br />time to get rid of the phlegm.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-457669632333917002?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-6110149834370892242011-09-23T06:14:00.001-07:002011-09-23T06:26:19.819-07:00Another jolt to a grand belief<br />Einstein's theories may not hold<br />for an aesthete it's a sorry relief<br />cause everything but zilch will fold<br />into something less than a massif<br />not even beauty is the leitmotif<br />change is the only credo foretold.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-611014983437089224?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-67575503138502376822011-09-22T15:44:00.000-07:002011-09-22T15:53:27.922-07:00I read - I bleed for hero's death<br />or the heroine's mess<br />when I absorb a story<br />my mind will worry<br />or laugh or bear witness<br />and I shall draw my last breath.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-6757550313850237682?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-79749627881545369232011-09-17T06:46:00.000-07:002011-09-17T07:06:11.092-07:00A new and cleaner interface<br />what is that to me?<br />Is it that the writing on the wall<br />is easier to see<br />or is it that not so much fluff<br />on the screen to be?<br />I do not truly care about<br />what is on the doodad<br />I know I could do more<br />if I chose that ad<br />with great mercantilizaton <br />alas I fell for that fad<br />I should applaud vividly<br />this cleaner look<br />clap my hand and shout<br />yet the Internet's hook<br />of dealing or wheeling's time<br />will be like the Chinook.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-7974962788154536923?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-40533148706071506862011-09-16T05:41:00.000-07:002011-09-16T05:47:58.019-07:00Being older and wiser(ha)<br />I know a thing or two<br />and here is what my counsel<br />is to womankind too.<br /><br />Men's wear is much better<br />the producers of course<br />realize that women are fickle<br />money to spent - applause.<br /><br />So now the old broad<br />has instituted in her mind<br />buying sandals and boots<br />is better of the male kind.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-4053314870607150686?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-23288288825877911122011-09-12T13:10:00.000-07:002011-09-12T13:20:02.205-07:00Body, mind and spirit<br />does do it for you,<br />if the mind is sound<br />and the spirit alert<br />then why in the world<br />can the body not follow?<br /><br />Splinted atoms of yore<br />turns into a tsunami<br />of a fire bomb<br />and then after a while<br />nature heals slowly.<br /> <br />My body away from <br />a beloved place<br />rebels - <br />again I have asthma<br />nose problems - <br />within not even one week<br />I am back on medication.<br /><br />Either my mind <br />is on speed and sorrow<br />that it affects<br />that corpse of mine<br />or nature is telling<br />me - to go back?<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-2328828882587791112?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-66940594176286480932011-09-10T06:34:00.000-07:002011-09-11T07:11:52.872-07:00Vigga the Volva was again alarmed<br />nothing was quite safe in her woods<br />she wandered near Ygdrasil her tree<br />for life, of life, to life<br />it looked sad, the leaves turned too soon<br />the weather was weary - dreary<br />what in the world was wrong?<br /><br />A global warmth or coldness swept<br />the age old globe of Gaia<br />some places were more hot<br />other spots turned colder<br />the animals were disappearing<br />humans were multiplying<br />so the old earth could not<br />feed and accommodate every one.<br /><br />Disasters of Africa's horn<br />threw famine at that particular spot<br />in Asia tsunamis were growing<br />in her world the rain kept pouring<br />down for days - a beginning of ice age?<br />Ygdrasil had had too much heat<br />and now too much water - the roots rotting<br />and decay setting in -sadly.<br /><br />She had had a weird dream <br />yesternight - way off her normal reveries<br />she was forced to cover her windows<br />in the house with papers<br />otherwise the it could not withstand<br />the temperatures of 235 degrees!<br />Talk of an ecological nightmare.<br /><br />She again went and muttered <br />around her little brook<br />which had taken a hit and was<br />completely stuffed with debris<br />of logs and left-overs from<br />the recent very heavy rainfall,<br />unprecedented - 40 years hence<br />another storm flooded her <br />pristine flow of water.<br /><br />The volva Vigga trod carefully<br />swinging her light cape<br />soon she would have to change <br />to the more warm one<br />she was still very worried<br />and in spite of the gloom<br />of days of doom people<br />still managed to find joy.<br />Was that the answer?<br />Nay, Gaia will say soon<br />she has had enough<br />and that humans will obey her.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-6694059417628648093?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-82990051138715124362011-09-07T05:00:00.000-07:002011-09-07T05:03:14.159-07:00Jetlag week two<br />it is wearing too<br />like a bad hairdo<br />I have tried drinks<br />even tried forty winks<br />my body is jinxed.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-8299005113871512436?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-10806571509589906872011-09-05T06:32:00.000-07:002011-09-05T06:34:29.601-07:00Alas gone <br />moments in time <br />a whiff of mementos <br />so flighty. <br /><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-1080657150958990687?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-36465242525358200712011-08-28T23:30:00.000-07:002011-08-28T23:40:35.037-07:00La veille de mon départ <br />ce n'est pas de grand art <br />je me sens si a part <br />que pour la plupart <br />la vie sois un écart. <br /><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-3646524252535820071?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-33194869665212146592011-08-27T06:23:00.000-07:002011-08-27T06:41:39.500-07:00L'inverse de bonheur <br />n'est pas malheur <br />mais la misère <br />car la fatalité est un fait <br />tandis que le chagrin <br />restera sans limite. <br /> <br />L'antipode de la vivacité <br />n'est pas indifférence <br />mais l'extinction <br />car l'apathie finira souvent <br />au lieu de la cessation <br />restera a la fin. <div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-3319486966521214659?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-51373402140051766662011-08-25T23:03:00.000-07:002011-08-25T23:14:43.151-07:00La vie porte des couleurs <br />l'adolescence est fortement rose <br />et souvent noir <br />le moyen âge <br />vives teintes des rouges <br />jaunes et vertes parfois grises <br />la dernier partie <br />adoucie des annees passees, <br />reste toujours bleue.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-5137340214005176666?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-37329286216929762622011-08-24T23:05:00.000-07:002011-08-25T13:35:44.295-07:00La sexualité jolie <br />entre homme et femmee <br />est comme une vigne <br />cela éblouit - cela aide <br />des partenaires consensuels <br />main il y a une ligne <br />de démarcations <br />en outre Atlantique <br />un peu plus voilé <br />des gens en politique <br />avec leurs grands pouvoirs <br />seront par contre époilé <br />et jugée fortement <br />comme des sorcières puritaines <br />avec leurs moeurs <br />c'était mieux de débuter <br />une guerre des prémisses fausses <br />de faire l'amour ailleurs <br />mais étant donne que <br />les faits de prerogatives humaines <br />sont politiquement fuite <br />le pouvoir ne lui donne pas <br />carte blanche de la promiscuité <br />le droit de fruitier. <br /> <br /> <br /><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-3732928621692976262?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-12048239003093281582011-08-24T07:25:00.000-07:002011-08-24T07:55:36.844-07:00Humidité humilie <br />une personne <br />a seulement penser <br />a sa sueur <br />et son bien-etre <br />déséquilibré. <br /> <br />Dans les tropiques <br />on ne se plaint <br />car c'est la vie. <br /> <br />Un jour de cela <br />me faire plaindre. <br />Je suis chez moi <br />saine et vivante <br />en buvant de l'eau <br />fraiche et froide. <br /> <br />Humidite me humilie <br />a reconnaitre <br />l'humain en moi.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-1204823900309328158?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-85346955760058875022011-08-22T23:03:00.000-07:002011-08-22T23:26:03.333-07:00Cacophonique <br />apothéose <br />zen <br />orphelinage <br />urbain <br />lamento <br />symphonie. <br /> <br />Loge <br />émotive <br />singulière. <br /> <br />Bénigne <br />étrange <br />zone <br />inouï <br />endroit <br />reposant <br />souffle.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-8534695576005887502?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-77810740793277983462011-08-16T08:26:00.000-07:002011-08-16T08:55:56.458-07:00Un jour une amie a sauve <br />un petit martinet <br />elle l'a donne a manger <br />avec une pipette; <br />bref, il a vécu <br />des qu'il a grandi <br />un matin de bonne heure <br />il a vole et est parti. <br /> <br />Cette année elle est sure <br />qu'il est revenu <br />un jour dans sa salle de bain <br />elle a entendu <br />un bruit dans une vase <br />un oiseau s'était prisonne <br />que faire? essayée tous <br />excepte donner a manger. <br /> <br />Alors patiemment avec <br />des morceaux de pain <br />en dehors vers la liberté <br />elle lui a fait un chemin. <br />Il l'a trouve encore <br />sa propre indépendance <br />avec l'aide de humain <br />avec foi et confidence. <br /> <br /> <br /><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-7781074079327798346?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-87046895009712229982011-08-14T00:56:00.000-07:002011-08-14T02:15:58.844-07:00Some are dexterious <br />some are not <br />some are prestigous <br />some are klutz <br /> <br />today in a friend's garden <br />watering her plants <br />of course the hose got lose <br />spraying my pants <br />trying desperately to stop <br />the water from running <br />getting wet all over <br />thank godness -it's sunning <br /> <br />some are dexterious <br />some are not <br />some are injurious <br />some are klutz <br /> <br />The other night I fell down <br />in a friend's house <br />hurt my foot but was ok <br />another night with my spouse <br />still tripped down <br />the same staircase <br />and this time I sprained <br />my ankle - terribly <br />I everywhere can get maimed. <br /> <br />Some people are dexterious <br />some are not <br />some people are curious <br />I am a klutz. <br /> <div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-8704689500971222998?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-53473746331615003982011-08-12T10:14:00.000-07:002011-08-12T10:19:47.040-07:00Handwriting <br />they say reveals a lot <br />about the writer <br />lefty or righter? <br /> <br />Depends <br />and that's why I <br />only hide behind <br />the screen <br />and keyboard. <br /> <br />That way <br />you can judge me only <br />by my words. <br /> <div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-5347374633161500398?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-31830139578151128052011-08-10T23:36:00.000-07:002011-08-10T23:51:45.359-07:00Je brûle <br />mon esprit <br />ne pense <br />qu'au <br />jeux <br />qu'on fait <br />ensemble. <br />Je brûle <br />mon ventre <br />rêve <br />d'être touche <br />par les mains <br />cherchant <br />la joie. <br />Je brûle <br />a l'intérieur <br />de moi <br />mes eaux coulent <br />en vain <br />éperdument <br />Je fige. <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-3183013957815112805?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-41191046525000473052011-08-10T00:00:00.000-07:002011-08-10T00:28:29.701-07:00Le libanais est mort <br />un petit homme dans ma rue <br />qui voyait tous <br />qu'il passait dans notre voie. <br /> <br />Il aimait et parlait <br />avec tout le monde du quartier <br />lui avec sa femme <br />venaient du Liban - trente ans. <br /> <br />Il voyait les vielles <br />des bon mots pour les gens <br />il fumait ses gitanes <br />il n'y avait plus des dents. <br /> <br />Il aimait beaucoup des filles <br />jeunes et en fleur <br />il les savouraient de ses yeux <br />comme un mâle très avide. <br /> <br />Sa femme devenait imbécile <br />tous les jours - pire <br />il essayait de la soigner <br />ce lui était difficile. <br /> <br />L'ironie franchement est <br />qu'elle vit encore <br />dans son lit - infantile <br />un esprit perdu - patient. <br /> <br />Le Libanais est mort <br />gentil et me montant <br />que nous passons seulement <br />dans cette ruelle a la fin. <br /><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-4119104652500047305?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-47797486518844509922011-08-09T00:01:00.000-07:002011-08-09T00:16:34.077-07:00Empty <br />a vessel unfilled <br />presumptious of me <br />to think <br />I could fill it <br />void <br />empty void <br />a bare earth <br />cocksure I <br />tried to cover it <br />in vain <br />of course <br />I have to fill <br />the earth and its gulf <br />with dirt and water <br />emptiness <br />within<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-4779748651884450992?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-55699754126703341462011-08-07T01:13:00.000-07:002011-08-07T01:19:45.877-07:00Reflective days of yore<br />introspection - too much<br />dull randy secretion -<br />dimming action to the core.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-5569975412670334146?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-92213560155437887062011-08-05T01:34:00.000-07:002011-08-05T01:49:36.380-07:00An email landed in my inbox<br />a sad one telling the tale<br />of betrayal and power play<br />of sneakiness and sex.<br />A feeling of sadness<br />encroached my throat<br />bitterness of the broadcaster<br />imcomprehension vex'd.<br />What can a friend say<br />returning to the outbox<br />drop - drop - drop<br />fly away - your wings flex.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-9221356015543788706?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-58683092617644669642011-08-04T14:48:00.000-07:002011-08-04T14:57:01.840-07:00On this night... starts<br />a well-known song ...<br />a thousand stars<br />yes to night I saw hundreds<br />from where I was sitting<br />secluded safe somewhere.<br />It was a slow coming<br />three - four seven<br />and then just then<br />they lightened up.<br />I know now what it is <br />to be stary-eyed<br />and the ancient mariners<br />and travellers at night<br />went by these gps points.<br />The romantic person<br />in me says - dreamy stuff<br />Practical lady sighs<br />follow their guidance.<br />The in-between me screams<br />just don't dream - just do.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-5868309261764466964?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-91744622932603074302011-08-04T02:17:00.000-07:002011-08-04T03:16:02.818-07:00Une promenade matinale<br />au soleil brillant diurnal<br />en train de faire les courses<br />chez le marchand de journal<br />je sort et la au frontal<br />une rencontre aux alentours<br />d'un être bien captivant<br />avec qui je me sens<br />très emotivement a l'aise<br />on s'embrasse en dirant<br />comme vas-tu, cher vivant<br />ton amie - française?<br />Je monte la petite colline<br />vraiment sans discipline<br />en me rendant au marche<br />la j'achète de lanoline<br />et aussi de grenadine<br />en observant sur la pavée<br />les femmes en mousseline<br />parlant avec leurs copines.<br />Ici dans mon village<br />il y a un avantage<br />les gens parlent entre eux<br />des fois un peu malicieux<br />mais aussi avec gentillesse<br />on transmet des faits nombreux<br />au lieu de se taire sacchareux<br />la vie continue sans cesse.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-9174462293260307430?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-7849938225135736982011-08-02T15:49:00.000-07:002011-08-03T04:01:11.466-07:00I have a secret vice<br />not playing dice<br />much more involved<br />yet - unresolved<br />because I shu bi do<br />love Placido Domingo<br />his voice is just wow<br />that's all I know<br />and yet night after night<br />youtubing I<br />listen to his vocal<br />in my own focals<br />an hour or two passes by<br />losing sleep<br />but infinetely better<br />than counting sheep<br />his voice makes me wetter<br />than a good lie.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-784993822513573698?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-40077612849171527052011-08-02T14:32:00.000-07:002011-08-02T14:36:09.157-07:00Happiness is when<br />you know you are alive<br />when you have guests over<br />and they seem to enjoy<br />what you do what you serve.<br />Happiness is when<br />you know you are trying<br />your best to give something<br />back to others<br />- not expecting payback -<br />just for your own sake<br />doing it because it is fun.<br />Is that not what life<br />sometimes should be like?<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-4007761284917152705?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-14200891749004975102011-08-02T00:16:00.000-07:002011-08-02T04:49:19.264-07:00Amadee a fait un tour dans la cour<br />de St Nazaire d'un soir nuageux<br />il nous a présenté "la flûte enchaînée"<br />élégamment et surtout imageux<br />la musique se porte aux planètes lointaines<br />ainsi que dans nos esprits marécageux<br />la vivacité et la félicite humaine<br />remplissent nos âmes langoureux<br />sans les beaux arts tout est dessemelé<br />le monde entier se montre besogneux<br />le temple de détour - reste - l'amour. <br /><br /><br /><em>Merci millement a Francine et Max pour <br />une soirée inoubliable sous les étoiles<br />dans le cloître de St Nazaire.</em><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-1420089174900497510?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-79662124880860857042011-07-27T10:05:00.000-07:002011-07-31T14:24:29.198-07:00Un tout petit village<br />dans les montagnes d'Aveyron<br />est fige sur ma memoire<br />depuis une lointaine seconde<br />car les chiens s'endorment<br />ici au milieu de la rue<br />le temps passe lentement<br />d'antan de la vie perdu<br />L'art y fleurisse apres tout<br />avec leur batiment insolite<br />et les danses a la folie<br />dans St Sever du Moustier.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-7966212488086085704?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-10038582909007415082011-07-25T01:41:00.000-07:002011-07-25T02:39:22.752-07:00Les visages de mon village<br />ici dans le centre de Midi<br />parlent du petit patronage<br />comme le modus vivendi<br />de leur posterite assemblage<br />a l'ancienne chaque apres-midi.<br />Les vielles femmes sur le banc<br />disputent jusqu'au crepuscule<br />tous les terriens tires-au-flanc<br />et les hommes d'un groupuscule<br />sous les arbres epoustouflants<br />debattent les sports ejacules.<br />Chaque generation y trouve<br />avec veneration apres l'age sage<br />sans la jeunesse se reprouve<br />sa verite changeante temoinage<br />que les temps font profondes douves.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-1003858290900741508?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-47233331019236281502011-07-25T01:15:00.000-07:002011-07-25T01:26:36.978-07:00Le Monde has reissued<br />all Simenon's novels<br />know for Maigret of course<br />more importantly<br />I find his depictions<br />of life's sordid details<br />and fate's complete<br />haphazardness <br />brilliant - so underrated <br />his 20/20 view of man<br />clear - under the microscope<br />is a healthy reminder<br />that we are all flawed.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-4723333101923628150?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-18691491897826149992011-07-24T00:34:00.000-07:002011-07-24T00:36:37.980-07:00Sunday rolls around<br />different breakfast awaits<br />tradition upheld<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-1869149189782614999?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31456896.post-39440789027419122132011-07-22T00:31:00.001-07:002011-07-22T01:19:38.908-07:00des rêves passionnes<br />sans le vouloir embrasses<br />a travers le logique<br />ce aphrodisiaque<br />se montre plus fort<br />que jamais - je m'endort<br />avec un sourire<br />je veux transcrire<br />le sentiment entre<br />la rougeâtre encre<br />et mes vielles cuisses<br />brûlant comme en soixante-huit<br />la passion de l'etre<br />etant fortement le maitre<br />se fait au bout des doigts<br />l'appetit obeit la loi<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31456896-3944078902741912213?l=polygraphya.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fleur-de-Lyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007129357242952665noreply@blogger.com0