Wednesday, May 03, 2006

POEMs by, Roger Drowne EC

1941 - to last night... late

1941 - to last night... late
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All Poems FREE 2 Read at www.RogerART.com
.
new POEMs on
BUMPER STICKERs, POSTERs or MUGs 4 U
.

Support ALL the ARTS...
And live today... Poets...
And their struggle for food...

A Bouquet of POEMS for You
Yes You... Who Else !

IF YOU WANT 2 - GET A BEVERAGE
PUT YOUR FEET UP

WE HOPE YOU ENJOY THE READ
AND
YOUR - MINDS - RIDE - INTO

Rogers - poem - lanD

lights... quiet please... stage left... and go
.......

Set - Free

most of them were there

he ambled up the ladder on to the black dais
in the field, the moon is up, the stars are out
many small fires keep folks warm

no one ever heard of his poetry

there is the smell of people, trees, cheese
and new cut grass in the air

SUDDENLY

he throws the podium off the stage
grabs the wet microphone

falls down, sits up

on a large fluffy
blue cream filled pillow

.

and begins to set free

317 words

in 2 space
.
the crowd goes absolutely gonzo wild crazy

and throws caution 2 the wind

then it appeared in the sky
the ground shook

it had come 2 listen

so he began...
.......

TIME
TIME IS JUST the ETERNAL NOW...
RUNNING AWAY WITH MY LIFE...
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LIFE
Life is Like Going Into a MOVIE...
Long After it BEGAN...

And Then We LEAVE...
Before...
THE END
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" Let All the Arts...
Rain Down On the People of Earth...
Like A Mighty River "
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" To Hell... With War "

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" We Are All Mini Gods "
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PIGMENTATION and ME
If You Could See
The Real Me

Below My Skin
Into My Blood, Bone and Guts
Will You Still Love Me ?

I'm Glad for My Skin
What Ever the Pigmentation
It Keeps Me Together
Warm

United and Integrated
This Life
-------
TAKE A BREATH
Have A Sip
AND - NOW
Poems Continue
-------
.
Blind Obtuse Money
Kills Like A Gun . . .

Just Quieter
.
the Bu$h / Cheney / Rove / NeoCon
U.S.A. Sick government stolen gangsters
Obtuse Killers
and buds
lie in the shit...
.
Jolly
.
Meanwhile on the far side of
Turd Blossom Street
Creative people are Given hidden tools
Out of the Earth to pry lose truths from the Gods
To slay the lie-fire smoking muck
Foaming from the death-dragon's forked tongue...
.
Singing their Happy Motto
They are already Dead
a long time ago...
.
It's time for
The obtuse W one
To go
And Never play
the boss
Of
Hurricanes
War
Or
Sick
Love
Again
Killing
Old
and
Young
Alike
.
Around
OUR
EARTH
-------

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