collab

Saturday, December 6, 2025

Thirteen Paper Airplanes

 










Thirteen Paper Airplanes




Thirteen paper airplanes later
I realized that boredom can kill
And I rounded them all up
From their landings in high and low destinations
And crashed them all into the fireplace.


What is about the weekend
That makes you feel like
Life is passing you by
Like you're missing out on some great something
That can only happen on a Saturday?


Saturdays used to be a time
For cartoons and serials and cereals
In big bowls full of milk and sugar
And stained pajamas and sleepy mamas
And all was right with the world when the t.v. was on.


Not any more.....now,  I can't stand the t.v.
With it's death-o-matic never ending gore
It's sound effects so ear-catching
It makes you want to pummel someone
Just to see if you can re-create that sound.


Talking heads spewing tele-prompted script
Offering opinion and counsel, advice and contempt
Cruel humor and sanctimonious noddings
That put you to sleep
Until the pre-arranged melee breaks loose.


The radio is no better
You hear the same tweaked songs
Over and over until you know them by heart
And you sing along until you figure out
That they're all the same song with just a different tune.


Sex sells. Oh, yeah?
Well, who wants sex that can be bought
For crying out loud? Isn't that dirty sex
That makes both the seller and the buyer dirty
Even if it is just a pornographic song?


So, why am I ranting and raving
On this beautiful, sunny Saturday?
Why am I thinking of these things
That make me upset in a deeply shallow way?
You tell me.


I think it's because
I'm alone in a world full of lonely people
Trying to find meaning in a meaningless morass
Of news, blues and Blue-toothed crazy people
Talking to themselves as they walk through Walmart.


Maybe I should go to Walmart myself
And buy some pretty colored papers
Colors like reds and golds and greens
Bring them home, get out the design book
And make more glorious airplanes.


Yawn. God, I've got to get a life!
Got one nobody is using?
One that's already been used up to the full
And discarded because it was just too exciting?
I'll take it. Long as it didn't belong to Cleopatra.

I hate snakes.





©by Voo Shining Stone
May 23, 09
3:11 p.m.

Thursday, December 4, 2025

Thoughts

 










Thoughts


Your thoughts penetrated the cold last night

And flew in on rose scented air that made me gasp

I sat up, startled, fully awake

And looked around the darkness to perceive a light

But there was none there, not even a flicker.


I waited for what I did not know

And grew exasperated in the waiting

Fluffing the pillow to throw under my head,

I thought I heard a breath not mine

And then a low and luring laugh.


"Who's there?" I dared, afraid to dare

But in my soul I knew the answer

I knew that breath, I knew that laugh

The teasing trace of a mouth I missed

I knew those thoughts and from whence they came.


"What are you doing here?" "What do you want?" 

I whispered to the shadow outlined by moon

Then a cloud passed by outside my window

And hid the shadow deeper still

As our eyes sought each other's in the dark.


"I only want what I've always wanted."

"You."

I heard it clearly, whether with my outer ear

Or in my heart, I could not say

But I heard your thoughts and heard your voice.


At dawn I awakened to ponder the night

And what had transpred and what I had dreamed

I knew you were away and over the ocean

And could not have possibly visited me.


I lay in the glow of morning and madness

Smiling at memories that played in my head

I threw back the covers, escaping their warmth

To find a rose there beside me

And your form, smiling, fading at the foot of my bed.











©️by Voo Shining Stone

Dec 4, 2025

12:20 p.m.


Tuesday, December 2, 2025

Amazing Grace Again with recording of me reading it




Voo reading Amazing Grace Again  on soundcloud.
 Click link below to listen, if desired.








♥Amazing Grace Again♥


I don’t know why I come here, I think
And sit down on the bench, in the rain
Umbrella-ed people hurrying by with their lovers
Look at me like a person insane.

I don’t care, I sniff, caring a lot
And pull up my collared shawl
People with lovers are always so smug
Oh, the heck with the lot of them all!

I watch a drunk man crossing the street
Kicking an old beer can along
Cursing and fussing and fuming at God
And then he suddenly breaks out into song.

Will you look at that? I say to myself
As I watch his whiskered face
Why is it all these drunks all know
Every word of “Amazing Grace”?

A bus roars by and splatters him
And before it’s fumes are gone
He gives them the finger with both dirty hands
And then loudly goes on with his song.

My hair is plastered down on my head
And I’m sure I look a fright
But nobody seems to be watching me now
As they race to beat the fall of night.

The neon signs start flashing on
And the street lamps blink as well
I smile at the broken Oh, Hello bar sign
That appropriately flashes Oh, Hell.

I really should be getting on home
The family will be looking for me
It wouldn’t  be good to miss dinner now
Since I’ve already missed my scones and tea.

The husband will soon be coming from work
The children, from ball games and school
I really shouldn’t be in this park after dark
With the weather so wet and so cool.

Still, I sit and think some more
As the rain falls heavily down
I really like this spot of green
In the pavement gray blight of downtown.

Perhaps I’ll pop into the Bistro, I think
And have a hot cup of latte′
And maybe a roll and a nice piece of pie
Just as soon as the crowds go away.

The maids have lit the fireplaces now
And they’re setting the table, I’m sure
Tess in the kitchen is polishing some silver
And stirring up her soup du jour.

I really should be getting on home
And yet I continue to linger
I look down and see that the cold rain has washed
The diamonds right off of my finger.

No bother, I shrug, I have more diamonds at home
A chest full of jewels and pearls
Bought by past beaus and the one that I chose
When I was a beautiful girl.

Still, life can be trifling and long, I suppose
And money can’t buy happiness
Homes full of fireplaces, they still can be cold
And silver can tarnish, I guess.

I sigh and open up my purse
To take my photos out
And running my hands over them,
I hear a familiar shout.

My Lady, what are you doing here
Sitting in the rain?
Don’t you know you’ll catch your death
What’s this? Are you in pain?

And he takes my arm and lifts me up
And wipes my dripping brow
Don’t look at those pictures, they’ll just make you sad
Come, darling, come on with me now.

And I let him take my tired arm
And lead me tenderly
And off we go as twilight darkens
The whiskered drunk and me.

I’ve  found a nice box for you to sleep in tonight
He tells me with a grin
And I thank him but tell him as nice as you please
That I really can’t ask him in.

That’s alright, My Lady, he says
I’ve a duplex that’s just down the way
And here is a part of a roll that I’ve saved
That will hold you until break of day.

He smells of dirt and turpentine
He smells of death and gin
He looks an old and homeless bum
But he’s my only friend.

I close the box as best I can
And the roll is gone in three bites
The rain on the cardboard is so very loud
But this is one of my better nights.

I don’t know how I came to this
I think as the memories come
Losing my children and losing my mind
My husband and lastly, my home.

The streets are long and lonely now
The friendly faces are few
My coat is threadbare but it was nice
Back when it was new.

I pull the rags close to my chest
And will myself to sleep
Falling now into the dreams
Where love lies ever deep.

I hear a knock on the makeshift door
And wake to find my friend
He hands me a flower and then we take a drink
And sing “Amazing Grace” again.






©By Voo
April 20, 2011
9:50 p.m.



   

 

Tumbling Down repost

 



Tumbling Down


Tumbling down
Into the midnight's glow
You taught my body
Things it did not know.

We kissed until our lips
Grew tired and numb
And smiled out loud
And wondered what we'd done.

In blankets warm
And fireplace paradise
We held onto each other
With our eyes.

And fingers clasped
And arms and legs entwined
We drowned in new love's bliss
Like vintage wine.

As winter wind sang softly
Round the trees
We hummed along
Like starving honey bees.

And all the while
The snow piled up outside
And true love found
It had no place to hide.

We laughed and loved
Till night became tomorrow
And joy replaced our long-held-onto
Sorrow.

Tumbling down
In bed of rumpled sheets
We found the hidden void
Where wholeness meets.

And wrapped ourselves
In warmth that thwarts the cold
Two lonely broken hearts
Became one soul.





©By Voo

May 20, 2017
8:50 p.m.




Play this song as you read the poem.,,,,,,it adds so much!!!!



Let It Be Me

 





Wednesday, November 26, 2025

The Blue Vineyard Of Voo Shining Stone: NOTHING PURE

The Blue Vineyard Of Voo Shining Stone: NOTHING PURE: Nothing Pure The devil wears black leather And drives a motorcycle made of different machines: Harley, Indian, Honda, Americ...

WRITING ORIGINAL









Writing Original

by ©Voo  (yeah, right!)



Summertime
and the living is easy....

No, wait!
That's  been done!
What am I thinking?

To be ! or not to be !
That is the.....

??????
What the hell??

Sorry, Will, old boy
Don't roll over in your grave
(I mean't no harm.)

She walks in beauty
Like the night....

Damn!
Damn!
Damn!
This is not going well.

Start again, shall we?
Ready, set, type!
Ahem!

Whenas in silks
My Julia goes......
OMG!

She walks in beauty like the night
Of cloudless climes and......
Heaven, help me!!!

Come live with me and be my love!
And we will all the pleasures prove
O, for the love of........!

When, in disgrace
With fortune and men's eyes
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments.....
(Yeah, yeah, that sounds good!)

What!!!!?????
What do you mean?????!!!!!!
Oh.
What about this, then?

Tiger, tiger, burning bright
In the forests of the night
Surely..... not!!!

In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately....... 
Ancient!?   How ancient !!???

Old MacDonald had a farm
E I E I O!!!!!!
Whose woods these are I think I know

No?

Frost, you say?
As in David?
Robert?
Mother Who????
Blast it all!!!!!

Alright, one more time
One last, last time......
ONE FINAL, INSPIRED TIME.....

What if a much of a which of a wind
gives the truth to a summer's lie
There!

Good heaven's, man!!!!!!
Are there no bubbles left to be unburst????

This can only mean one thing!!!!!!
All the good stuff.........
Has already been written!!!!!!!

Curses!!!!

Yesterday......
All my troubles seemed
So far away
Now it looks as though.......

?   ???????????  The What???

Forget it!
I give up!

Here, take my pen, my paper,
My typewriter, my keyboard, my Blackberry
The dust on the window
The sand on the shore.........
I shall write

No

More.

Again.

Forever.

oh, wait!

A masterpiece
Just formed in my head.....
Oh, joy! Oh, rapture!

Wait for it.....
Wait.....

Ahhh!

And the word erupted sculpted and transfused
Confused in it's infancy of ink.......

What?!   Oh, give me a break!!!
You mean a Machine wrote this?!
A Word Machine??!

Well, that's it, then........



SIGH


*** last lines written by my buddy Jimmy, the Word Machinist. Lines so
 good I had to steal them.****


and
thanks to Shakespeare,
Herrick,
e.e. cummings,
Frost,
Paul McCartney 
and 
all 
the 
other
great
classic
poets
whose
works
shamelessly
borrowed
here.............


SIGH