that was fun kc

haven't laughed like that in a while
we both had a good time

S
D

thanks you two...
i will see you next time i am home

as i reread these and look into your soul
i see such talent
it makes me wonder how you can be so humble about it
i know you don't think there is anything special about them
but trust me your words reach and touch many hearts

we (stef and i)are happy to call you a friend
and we wish you nothing but the best

david

thank you (d)
it means a lot to me when people take the time to post
anything in my threads

always enjoy your writes

Great writes, KC. Sorry it took so long to put a comment, but I had a lot of back reading to do. Keep up the good work, nice to see you back


~Den

no worries my friend
i have been gone for a couple of weeks so i am behind as well

thank you Pam
i always appreciate when you stop by
and your comments mean a lot to me

glad you were here if only for a while
dont stay away so long this time

S

thanks for the poems

TAB

thanks tanya
it is good to see you around
hope all is well with you

ahhhh still a favourite!

A wonderful collection (((kc))) . I love seeing them all together.

thank you so much
it means a great deal to me when you stop by
and post your comments

kc question for you
do you have a favorite? out of these?
i have some
but could not pick one

S

you should add the new one to this collection


S

ok stef, i have thought about it and i am not sure
if i can choose just one so, here are a couple of my favs
in no particular order

Fear: because it is one of the first things i ever wrote

Pride: for what Nick means to me

Tonight: because it wrote itself in about 2 min.
and i never changed anything in it
not a single word

Seaside Picnic: i just like the emotion in this one

ok girl i can go through the whole list
there are things i like about most all of them
because there is a piece of me in all of them
i would rather you and others tell me the ones you like best
it would be kind of interesting to see a list of the top 5 most liked

thank you stef

((( kc ))))
I have a request,,, Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm Dancing Under the Willow,, As seen through my eyes,,,

Please, I would be so honored



and so it was written...


Willow

it has been so long since i’ve felt this way i simply have to share it with all of you
today i was greeted at the door with a blindfold and a light kiss on my neck just below my left ear
he turned me around and led me out to his car
all the while never saying a word
we drove for a bit
with me asking many questions
none of which were answered
when we stopped he helped me from my seat
i could smell the sea, fresh cut grass and a hint of wisteria in the air
i asked what he had in mind but,
he refused to say a word
he put his arm around me and we walked
in silence
finally he spoke
“i want you to see something” he said
“but not just yet”
leaving the blindfold on me we walked a few more feet
he asked me to duck down a little
a few more steps
and he let go of me
my heart was pounding
i stood there wondering
i could hear the breeze
gently caressing leaves
i could smell flowers
as he removed the blindfold he kissed my cheek ever so softly
i think i saw a tear building in his eye
looking around i noticed we were standing on a blanket
there was a bottle of wine, a big bouquet of white lilies and a radio
it was then i realized we were inside of a tree
not really inside of one but, we are surrounded by its branches
completely surrounded
like being in a huge bell of branches and leaves
we have this wonderful world all to our selves
totally shut off from the outside
he had found the biggest most beautiful willow tree i have ever seen
“i will pour you a glass of wine in a minute but, first” he whispered in my ear
he pulled a cd out
put it in the player
and pushed play
then right on queue
as if he special ordered it
the sun came out from behind the clouds
the breeze picked up
and tenderly waved the leaves around
so that the millions of rays of light
danced all throughout our little hideaway
like our own private mirror ball
it was fantastically choreographed
he grabbed me by the waist
and looked so deep into my eyes i swear i could see his soul
i was numb as the music started

“aaaat laaast… my love has come along
my lonely days are over
and life is like a song… ohhh yeah, yeah
at laaast the sky above is blue
my heart was wrapped in clover”

my god
that beautiful voice
this beautiful moment
my heart was melting with every tear

and we danced
and we danced
and we danced


kc08

Last Call

Dim, flame-shaped lights reflect off the brass trimmed bar
Liquor filled crystal standing stoic on the shelf; ready to give of their contents
The kind of courage promoting and inhibition shrinking liquid served up
one shot at a time
Smoke and mirrors suffocate lungs and dreams
Beings just being
Entranced by what's most hard to define
Life on the adult playground
Waiting for that blues poet to uphold to the atmosphere that's not
in the scene tonight
To expect is to be let down. Being numb to the feelings temporarily pleases ones soul yet, seldom satisfies
It’s just another Saturday night anytown U.S.A.

On the make shift stage,
the wanna be poet lashes out his poorly written verses
Nobody seems to mind which in an odd way convinces the band that they are destined for stardom
But, the truth is their fame barley reaches outside of the small circle of friends and a few women in town that hang around mostly for the free drugs
They play here every weekend butchering the same cover tunes and introducing originals to an audience that doesn’t listen and can’t wait for the next break
Arrogance is a blinding attribute

At the far left of the bar you will find Susan.
Sipping her White Russian and smoking her ultra light ultra feminine time killers
She is good at heart but, lets everyone with the strength to push open the door to this cave of depression take advantage of her
Hoping one day he will walk back in and make good on all the promises of their once well intended vows
John has been long removed from that contract
His wife of seven years and their three beautiful daughters carry the soul of his attention
Still, every Saturday
on the last stool to the left,
she waits...

Barb pours a good drink
At twenty seven and twice a mother she understands the connection between a couple of stiff ones and a good tip
Her long red hair and that bright Irish smile tend to make one forget just how many he has had
Her playful manner has lead to more than a few fantasies around here but, she is a mother first and a good one
We all look out for her
Not that see needs it
She will make it home about three am
Get her three hours sleep, cook breakfast in the pans given to her by Susan and drive her kids to school in the twenty year old Dodge Bill somehow keeps running for her
The four hour shift at the quick mart starts at eight, and then it’s off to get another three hour sleep before picking the kids up from school
She won’t have to be back at the cave until nine, plenty of time for homework
I bet she wears that short leopard print skirt again
Her youngest has a birthday next weekend

Bill orders one last drink
Pushes himself from the bar and heads to the men’s room
Carefully avoiding the tiny parquet seldom used excuse for a dance floor
He can’t bare the thought of stepping onto it since Jan lost her fight with cancer
Thirty five years together, countless shuffles of feet and countless Saturday nights on that dreadful little floor

Barb reaches behind the bar and raises the lights
The smoke more visible now the souls more transparent
Everyone knows its last call
To some this means one last desperate line or foolish gesture in the hopes of not having to go home alone
God forbid one should have to wake in the morning and not have anything to regret
To let another Saturday go by without the meaningless sexcapades of a hormone driven alcohol induced night of carnal dysfunction would be a shame

The guys at the pool tables race to start another game
Thinking they could squeeze out one more buck or two from a quick victory or at least stall long enough to get a couple more drinks down

Bill finishes his jack & coke
The walk across the street to his garage he has made many times
The hospital and the church are both just steps away, these steps forever linked together in his mind…it was an awful long fight
Tomorrow at the service he will be wearing these same cloths and smelling of cheap whiskey
Afterwards he will return home for the first time in two weeks where he will be truly alone and face life without her in the light of day…

The rain and cold outside slows the exit of some
Susan, Barb and I are going to meet for breakfast as we often do
I will make sure they each make it home while biting my tongue when it is time to say goodbye to Barb, just like always
A hug and kiss on the cheek are waiting for me I know, she always does that
And next Saturday I will take my usual place at the bar and think long and hard about professing my love for her right about the time her hand reaches for the dimmer switch and she says….
Last call


kc08

3200

32 hundred candles
Burn through the night
32 hundred souls
Lost without a fight

Some carried by children
Some by the wives
The un-happy survivors
Of cut short lives

Stand in silent prayer
It’s the seventh inning stretch
The least we can do
For the fate that they met

32 hundred candles
Flicker out one by one
Back into darkness
Their duty is done

Shame on you
If you forgot them but,
They will reappear
In a crying light visual
September 11th next year

kc08

7 Toys

always laughing

play fighting,
wrestling
running through the fields acting like children

you were so much fun then….

never needing much more than
a good pair of cross trainers
or the steamy comfort of
a good kiss

the sugar cane;
harvested
and looking a little less useful,
lay on the fertile soil that gave it life

certainty uprooted
your category five saw to that...

my pride
my emotions
my life
my future
my heart
my soul
my mind

these have become your seven favorite toys

and doll?

like the cane stalks
i am tired of fighting the wind
perhaps i too
will take a rest...

and succumb to the langoliers


kc08