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that thumb their nose at any errant cuss
who deigns to hide his help from one of us!
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There is a quality in Life too seldom seen
for it hides even from oneself past thought
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Own thought to moderate our mind skews what we can see
Appreciate or nauseate depends on ends that flee.
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Until loss has lost its woe, likewise its urge to discuss--
by Terry-too
16 lines, 16 comments,
on May 26 4:48 PM
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My name was lost when I married,
assuming his. Even first name went,
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Wanton wondrous happiness
as imagination sings...
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Wanton wondrous happiness
as imagination sings...
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where all solutions that are born
arrive forgotten in the morn.
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There was no place within his heart.
Bo turned her back and walked away.
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find here the most serious
challenge to our identity,
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In a brood that's so prolific
it's too easy to lose count
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We are living our history now, moving ahead
as tomorrow, next week, next year are ended,
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If this question is rhetorical
it nevertheless tantalizes.
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Perhaps it is just too obscure to see?
Even repetition fails to fight obscurity!
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Hers was correct by her knowledge.
Mine was too, to distinguish.
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by Terry-too
14 lines, 7 comments,
on Nov 3 10:18 AM 2008. In Sad
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"She's mine, though not Calliope's descent,
in tune with who I am, incumbent. Meant -- "
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How does it feel to be suddenly muted?
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . !
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My numbered memories are paltry few
but this remains forever here for you!
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Then we both cried how we were used;
for we had found the source of our defeat.
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For great big house, of grand expanse
And indisputed elegance...
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Regret is not only
for things unsaid,
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Embarrassing too! To hear a strangled cough
at tracks across white carpet, always perfectly kept
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it's just a smile, some hello
that thinks it knows her too.
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aesthetic wonder, or just fate
why men so overcompensate?
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Our stupid kibble
suited for pibble
by Terry-too
16 lines, 3 comments,
on Jan 2 9:44 PM 2008
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Expert wit, her badinage
relieved me of my strife
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We wonder where your next new home will be
but know your sonnets share expressively!
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Thinking in several languages is like automatic transmission in cars.
by Terry-too
0 lines, 7 comments,
on Nov 24 5:37 AM 2007
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So, know what My Muse says?
No, but we see her ways! (edited thanks to Ecrivain )
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Words age gracefully, displaying no wrinkles or sagging.
Great is ageless, the mediocre forgotten, and schlock merely annoys.
by Terry-too
3 lines, 11 comments,
on Oct 24 1:35 PM 2007
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As we grow older, days move over
to give their space to weeks. Seven
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