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  • mistermuse 12:01 am on January 31, 2019 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: dreams, homelessness, , , regret, , turning points,   

    READ MY LIPS POEM 

    Here in the American Midwest, waking up to sub-zero lows the past few mornings reminded me of a poem I wrote one January more than two dozen frozen winters ago, titled WINTERDREAM….so I dug the poem out of cold storage, blew the snow (or was it dust?) off it, and re-read it for the first time in some time. As I did, it dawned on me that, although published before (both in paper journals and online), perhaps it could stand one more exposure. Then, near poem’s end, I re-came upon the word “lips”….and that settled it (reference the last two sentences of my last post, LIPS SERVICE). Here, then, one last time, is….

    WINTERDREAM

    Suppose a homeless man
    found a tattered hat,
    abandoned, like himself,
    to the elements….
    and in that tattered hat,
    tucked inside the band,
    a winning lottery ticket
    could transform his life;

    but first, he must see it –
    and then, seeing it,
    not toss it to the wind,
    as life had tossed him.
    Let us further suppose
    the deadline to claim
    its prize came at midnight
    of that very day.

    That night, in winter’s turn,
    the man had a dream
    that he could live his life
    starting all over again,
    knowing as much at birth
    as he knew this moment,
    so that all the choices
    and hidden chances
    of wasted turning points
    lay exhumed ahead….

    but the thought made him
    cringe: regret was a fire
    that gave pain without heat.
    He awoke in cold sweat
    to the taste of blown snow
    on the cracks of his lips,
    and pulled down the brim
    of yesterday’s fortune.
    What luck to have found
    a buffer against fate.

     

     

     
  • mistermuse 12:04 am on February 24, 2018 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: Angel Eyes, dreams, , , , , , , ,   

    ANGELS HAVE EYES 

    ANGELS HAVE EYES

    “Sex is sacred,”
    some humans say —
    but they still do
    it anyway.

    Why they do so
    beats us above….
    They’re not, you know,
    so easy to love.

    Yet angels know
    man needs no shove,
    dreams you’d be so….
    How does it go?

    Oh, yes! It’s — so….

     

     
    • arekhill1 1:24 pm on February 24, 2018 Permalink | Reply

      Humans may be hard to love, Sr. Muse, but they’re easy to fuck. Many a song has been written about that, too.

      Liked by 1 person

      • mistermuse 5:12 pm on February 24, 2018 Permalink | Reply

        Unfortunately, even Cole Porter couldn’t get away with writing a song titled “Easy To Fuck” (though he did write one called “Love For Sale”). I guess that’s why he settled instead for “”Easy To Love.” Even so, the puritanical Hayes Office censored the lyric “so sweet to awaken with” in the Jimmy Stewart clip.

        Like

    • Don Frankel 5:12 pm on February 24, 2018 Permalink | Reply

      While this does not belong here musically, it just makes a point about how someone can look like an angle, talk like an angel and yet…

      Liked by 1 person

      • mistermuse 6:18 pm on February 24, 2018 Permalink | Reply

        Don, I’ll see your DEVIL IN DISGUISE and “raise” you one with ANGEL IN DISGUISE, which was written in 1940 and became a Marine favorite in the Pacific theater in WWII:

        P.S. The vocalist is Ann Sheridan from the soundtrack of IT ALL CAME TRUE (1940) (among her co-stars in the film was Humphrey Bogart).

        Like

  • mistermuse 12:01 am on December 20, 2015 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: chance, , dreams, , , , social issues, ,   

    WINTERDREAM 

    Suppose a homeless man found
    what survived of a tattered old jacket,
    abandoned, like himself, to the elements
    ….and, in that tattered garment,
    crumpled inside a pocket, a winning
    lottery ticket could transform his life.

    But, first he must find it, and then,
    having found it, not toss it aside to be
    blown wherever discarded debris blows.
    Let us further suppose
    the deadline to claim its prize
    came at midnight of that very day.

    Late that night, in winter’s turn,
    he dreamed a new-day dream
    that he could live his life over again,
    knowing as much in his youth as
    he knew now, so that all the choices
    and hidden chances of wasted
    turning points lay exhumed ahead.

    But the thought made him cringe; regret
    was a fire that gave pain without heat.
    He awoke in cold sweat to the taste
    of snow on the cracks of his lips
    and pulled tight around his neck
    the collar of yesterday’s fortune.
    What luck to have found
    a buffer against fate.

     

     

     

     
    • mistermuse 12:04 am on December 20, 2015 Permalink | Reply

      In the spirit of the not-merry-for-everyone season, I have given this previously published poem a new life here, almost 25 years after I first wrote it.

      Liked by 1 person

    • RMW 12:20 pm on December 20, 2015 Permalink | Reply

      This started me thinking, would I rather find that lottery ticket (I do buy them from time to time) or be able to start over again with today’s knowledge (something I have to admit appeals to me). But in the end, rather than sitting around wondering about either, I am grateful to be where I am with what I have compared to so many other people. Thank you for sharing this lovely poem.

      Liked by 2 people

    • mistermuse 2:54 pm on December 20, 2015 Permalink | Reply

      I can’t think of a better attitude to have, RMW. What’s done is done – still, I can’t help but question the depth of people of middle age & older who say they have no regrets in life. I find it hard to believe that anyone goes through life without having hurt someone, either by words or deed. This tells me that the “no regret-er” is either a surface person or an “it’s all about me” person to whom others are mere bit players in the movie of his/her life. Lacking such regret, it seems to me, the “no-regret-er” hasn’t earned the right to say “What’s done is done.”

      Liked by 1 person

    • Don Frankel 6:21 pm on December 20, 2015 Permalink | Reply

      Ah Muse a lot of money only gets me in trouble. And, regrets… “I’ve had a few but then again too few to mention.” Do it all over again? Wouldn’t that be Deja Vu all over again?

      “regret was a fire that gave pain without heat” Great line.

      Like

    • mistermuse 9:03 pm on December 20, 2015 Permalink | Reply

      Don, there IS one thing (love) about which one need have no regrets:

      Liked by 2 people

    • Resa 4:52 pm on December 21, 2015 Permalink | Reply

      Pretty great!

      Liked by 1 person

    • arekhill1 3:17 pm on December 23, 2015 Permalink | Reply

      Having regrets does come with the territory. Not dwelling on them has to as well.

      Liked by 1 person

    • mistermuse 9:31 pm on December 23, 2015 Permalink | Reply

      Robert Frost pretty much said as much: “In three words I can sum up everything I’ve learned about life: it goes on.”

      Like

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