Telepathic Gonzo

Yet, another piquing gem by Charlie!

Charlie Zero The Poet

Raoul!
You telepathic gonzo –
You don’t need
eyes, mouth, ears.
Grow 6 hands, cover them.

Blindfold the impression mystics.

Sir, Balanovski
taints truth –
amaryllis shedding
despondency
sensitivity
a misguided statistic.

Of museums
fixing the fiction god extrasensory…

Art pettifogging…
Art targets shock…

Bias Thompson
your wisdom deflating –
walls atrophied, Babylon dehisced.

To the decoy protagonist –
oh! Steal profanities continuity.
Pornography toad’s
chess play to a battle mating season
and suddenly Sinclair decries ultimatum?

Randomize controversy, this thing we call percent.

Copyright © 2017 Charlie Zero the Poet

All rights Reserved.

No part of Telepathic Gonzo – may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means: electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior permission. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links…

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The Bookshop

Booknvolume

shakinThis blog post is brought to you from the mind of Ste J, book defender/lover/obsessive, knowledge seeker and occasional afternoon napper who can be found https://bookmust.wordpress.com and is always happy to make your acquaintance.

The Bookshop

I

Entering the gateway

quaint handle and ring of the bell

a friendly greeting and the musty scent

that pleasantly assails the senses

II

A world of infinite dreams surrounds

of pirates, distant worlds and lavish parties

each crafted teaming with life and imagination

all waiting to be explored and devoured

III

The ages gather here too

ordered casually together

side by side

covered in dusty patience

IV

Time moves differently here

slowly…

the world outside ceases to be;

the perfect existence

V

And now there is just you

and sound of pages turning

the crackling breaking the silence

adding to that unrivalled atmosphere

Save

Save

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Painted Word

I was right

picpoem-3

Of your words, as

I attempted

To climb,

It was up a

Ladder, rung by rung to

Your rhyme.

The ladder stopped short

Of your prose, and

Understanding naught

I froze.

picpoem-2

To the left

Revealed steps, where

A hidden garden hung

Upon its end.

An invisible door

Closed it to my whim, and

I Understood

With my bones

That I was not

Allowed in.

picpoem-1

The center,

The only hope from

The heart, portrayed

Two worlds

Juxtaposed. So

I leapt through

The image, and

Wondrously heard

You paint your

Thoughts, out loud,

With one clever word.

⭐ ⭐ Inspired by & written for: Charlie Zero, the Poet  ⭐ ⭐

Pics taken by Resa – July, 2016

Poem © Resa McConaghy – December, 2016

Note to Self

When I was younger

resaphoto1

I had hunger

Thunder

Wonder

Blundered.

I laughed harder

Thought louder

Not prouder

Just wondered.

Now older

I smoulder

For a shoulder, when

I feel colder.

 Note to self.

Embrace the

Frightening

Lightening

And brightening

Of a morning!

Note to self.

Pic of Resa taken many years ago by a very talented photographer. I can’t thank her enoughfor this fabulous memory!

Your Lion Eyes

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, ,

Dare you hide

clion-1

Your lion eyes?

They look at me, and

I’m not surprised

To see my soul bared, to

See my mind, as

Only humans hide

Behind lion eyes.

eyes-1

I can see

Your puppy eyes.

They look at me

Without disguise.

They share your heart

They share your mind, with

Veiled surprise, as

Only humans

Fake puppy eyes.

lion-1

Lions can’t hide

Their lion eyes

For they are pure, and

They are wise

They are old, and

They’ve spent time

Living behind their

Lion eyes.

Pics take by Resa McConaghy – 2014 – 2016

Poem © Resa McConaghy

“I Was There – A Musical Journey”. Now on Amazon and Kindle!

This is the only source you will ever need to know all about popular music from 1970 – 2015. John charts his journey with passion. This book is factual & entertaining all at once!

Thoughtsfromwestfive

Finally! All the tweaks and formatting done. The page index revised, then revised again.  “I Was There – A Musical Journey”, the story of my musical life, is now available on Amazon and Kindle. You can see the Amazon page at this link if you are a UK reader:

https://www.amazon.co.uk/I-Was-There-Musical-Journey/dp/1535070633/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1480157280&sr=1-1&keywords=I+Was+There+John+Sills

Wherever you are, just go to Amazon books and type I Was There John Sills into the search box. Amazingly, it’s there! And you can preview the first couple of chapters, in Kindle format.

The print copy isn’t the cheapest, but it’s value for money – you get 752 pages. It’s a book you can dip into, to read about your favourite artists – a lot of them will be there, unless you only like prog rock! Or there might be people you don’t know about, who might interest you. Or you can read the whole story, enjoy the narrative…

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The Light and Poetry Friday

Brenda! Thank you for this lovely tribute to a Canadian star!

Friendly Fairy Tales

shine-like-leonard-cohen
Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets in.
— Leonard CohenAnthem
You can read the remaining lyrics here.
In honor of recently departedLeonard Cohen, a songsmith, wordsmith and inspiration, I wrote a previous poem and this new poem, retyped below because screen readers for the visually-impaired cannot read words inserted in jpegs:
Shine Like Leonard Cohen
Find the words
everyone knows
but sing them deeper
where fear goes
sing them deeper
where hope hides
sing them deeper
where light flows.
Copyright 2016 Brenda Davis Harsham
Welcome to Poetry Friday! I’m happy and honored to host Poetry Friday this week for the first time. If you’ve participated before, you know what to do. If you haven’t, you can click the blue box and add a link to your blog of an original poem, a favorite…

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When the Band Plays

It’s a different world when the band plays.

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Music melts through

One hundred year old wood floors

When the band plays.

When the band plays,

It permeates my home,

Saturates my bones,

And the singer is another

Instrument in

The band that plays downstairs.

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When the band plays the

Music seems forever.

So why does it end?

I want to hear the music

To the ends of threads, and

Through hundred year-old floors,

Through an eternity of souls,

Through a love letter’s woes.

Through my windows,

Through my doors enter

Into my pores

Into my blood then

Into heart.

Music,

Sweet music!

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