collab

Tuesday, February 19, 2019

IMAGINING YOU

Just My Imagination














Imagining You


Is it just my imagination
Or are you really real?
Are you really holding me right now
And making me to feel....

That all my dreams might come to pass
And all my hopes come true
Are you really telling me to dream
But dream of only you?

You need not ask that question, love
For there is no one else
That can make me dream such magic things
Not even my own self.

I do not know where you came from
What star from whence you fell
What moon beam dropped you in my life
For the sun won't even tell.

One day I woke and you were here
Where you'd never been before
Walking up my garden path
And knocking on my door.

The bluebirds serenaded 
The rose expressed perfume
The buttercups stood up and danced
With the moon flower and the moon.

And the sound of music filled the air
Pianos, violins
Saxophones and guitar strings
From the hands of holy men.

I looked around to see if I
Had died and gone to Heaven
For you were an angel standing there
That my heart had surely beckoned.

But then you smiled and shook your head
No, I am real, you see
For the angels heard you when you cried
And they have dispatched me.

For I was crying, too, you  know
And longing for your love
And wondering if we'd ever meet
And they watched us from above.

It's not imagination
No matter how you feel
We may have been born in that good place
But you and I are real.

And I have come to take you to
That paradise you seek
It's in a world you may not know
For your heartsight has grown weak.

The world that lives in here, you said
And pointed to your heart
The place that love has always been
Where we've never been apart.

And now we'll abide forever there
Where none can tear asunder
And you won't have to imagine me
Or ever have to wonder.

And I gave my hand and gave my heart
To the man that came that  day
Who walked out of my hopes and dreams
And here will always stay.













 
Kiss of Life



©by Voo
February 18, 2019
10:49 p.m.

Thursday, February 14, 2019

DEAR KEVIN WALSH a spur of the moment write for someone very special

Profile cover photo





>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
With your feet in your head
And your brains in your shoes
You can steer yourself
Any direction you choose
kevin, age 9


                                                  
                                    
 DEAR KEVIN WALSH:


Kevin comes in like a rain storm
With his poetry
Washing away the dust of life
Off of your weary bones
Cleaning away the muck and mire
And making you feel human again.

Then he shutters the sun
And does a happy dance
Around the moon
Just because he can
And oh, how we love to watch him
Hear him, see him, know him
Just happy to be in his widening circuit. 

And just when things get darkest
He flies in on his magic carpet
And uncovers the sun again
And you stand and watch in amazement
As flowers rise up out of the concrete
And fill your hands
With beauty
And your nostrils 
Full of honeysuckle.

He tells the most amazing tales
Tales you want to believe
Tales you want to live in
And partake in
In some small way
Because he can take the most mundane
Subjects and make them
Live in a newness of life
That was never there before.

A perpetual boy,
Now a man,
But only on the outside
Inside he is Aladdin
And Frodo,
Peter Pan,
And
Robin Hood
All rolled into one
Marvelous, 
Magical 
Creature
Known as Kevin.

And we love him
For who he is
And we love him
For who he was
And we need him
To always stay in reach
Because we all need
People like him in our lives
To remind us that this is not
All that there is, 
This routine, ho hum, dog eat dog existence
Out here alone
Where poetry hides it's face
And waits for those
Who seek it out
And recognize it's worth
In this darkening world.

Kevin is one such as this
Finding poetry and magic
In every raindrop,
Every beam of sun, 
Every abandoned car
And old shoe
For he is not of this earth
But from a far distant land
On the other side of Heaven
Where poets come from
Where they only speak the language
Of poetry
And all their dialogues rhyme.

When true poets meet,
We always recognize one another
Even if we have never met before
We know one another by the spirit,
Our hearts
And the glow that emanates
From our fingers
As we write magic words
That take your heart away
To that place from whence we came
And make it real to you.

Kevin lived most of his life
Without having known his true talent,
His true nature
He thought he was just an ordinary boy
Until one day
He wrote a poem
And then another
And another
And amazingly he knew he was special
And no longer alone.

For suddenly
He was surrounded by poets
From near and far
And we encircled him in our arms
And embraced him with our hearts
And we showed him how it felt
To be loved
And he loved us back
And healed us, too, and cheered us
For we were homesick also
For that distant land
And never knew it.

And he told us tales about home
And made us remember how good it was,
How sweet it was,
How dear it was to remember
And write about
And share with those who need
A little magic in their lives
And for this, Kevin,
We are appreciative,
We are thankful.

And we are constantly waiting
And yearning with each passing day,
For you to take us back into your world
And read and learn and play again
The games you played as a 9 year old
Now living in the body of a man
That most of us have yet to meet
And yet love so much
 With all our grateful hearts.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

(bless you Kevin Walsh
for the joy you have brought into
our lives. Never stop writing poetry.
Never grow up. Never stop believing in magic.
And never forget us, your friends.)

©By Voo
February 14, 2019
2:25 a.m.


Wednesday, February 13, 2019

VALENTINE EVE dedicated to all those single people out there gritting their teeth






        Valentine Eve


    The day of love, it looms on the horizon now
    Teasing me with it's rose and balloon 
    And teddy bear
    The memories of those sweet, sweet days
    And magical nights of wine and candle
    Long slow dances and kisses
    That promised love unending
    But ended all the same
    Forever and a day, you said
    And I agreed and wrote it down
    In my book of remembrance
    And saved it with the cards and hearts
    And pressed flowers that I would
    Not have sold for gold
    Valentine's Day, unfunny, unsweet
    Unlovely, unlooked forward to
    Looming on the horizon now.....
    The worst day of the year
    For those with shattered hearts.





    ©by Voo
    Feb 13, 2005
 9:28 p.m.



OF MONSTERS AND FEELINGS a collab with Nick Nguyen



Of Monsters and Feelings




Long days passed
As I rested 
My pounding head
On my cold hands
Reflecting 
A memory
Now like 
A shattered 
Glass mirror.

It started with
A heartbeat
Rising ever
So slightly
Next came pain
Like hot needles
Protruding quickly
Through my skin
And a dull pain 
In my stomach
Ruining all my nights.

With the realization came the terror
And the terror turned to worse
Worse than any word so spoken
In conversation or in verse.

I had never known such anguish
Such despair or numbing fear
I couldn't dream of an existence
Without your presence living here.

All my feelings became monsters
Feelings once I loved to feel
They made me cry out in my anguish
They did me harm and made me ill.

But love's a healer
And I still need you
As I watch the pouring rain
Come and put your hands on my heart
Come and make me feel again.





Written By Nick Nguyen
and Voo


(c) Copyright Nicholas Nguyen 2019
In Collaboration with Voo 



Tuesday, February 12, 2019

THE REST, AS THEY SAY, IS HISTORY an experiment in poetry




















The Rest, As They Say, Is History



Throwing caution to the wind,
I walked into the night,
Down the street,
To your door,
Knocked,
Knocked again,
And gently turned the door knob
And it opened.

And there you sat
Staring blankly at the wall
Then turned and stared 
Blankly at me
You opened your mouth
To ask "How did you.....?"
But I gave you no time to ask.

Slamming the door,
I crossed the room,
Turned off the tv
Turned down the lights,
Took a sip of your wine,
Took a bite of your apple,
And threw myself into your lap
And kissed you like no man
Had ever been kissed before.

This lip, tongue congress
Continued on 
For some fifteen minutes
Or so
And then I stood up,
Dusted off your dustless lap,
Took another sip of wine
And turned the tv back on,
Flipped the light switch back up,
Hurried across the room
To the front door,
Opened it, took a deep breath,
Went outside, slammed the door,
And did not look back.

But peeking through the window,
I watched as you came to your senses,
Swallowed the leftover wine,
Poured some more,
Ran your fingers through your hair,
Stood up awkwardly and said,
"What the hell was that?!"
Then you sat clumsily back down
At your dinette table, frowning,
And contemplated your life
And whether you were possibly awake
Or dreaming and whether you ought
To call the police and report a break-in
Or if you should go back to sleep
And finish a rather remarkable dream.

Caught in the dilemma of confusion
And mild euphoria,
You turned the dregs of the wine up
And drank every drop,
Stood and threw the bottle in the sink,
Turned off the tv, turned on the stereo,
Did some sort of bump and grind dance
In the middle of the kitchen floor
To a song,
By a band that sounded 
Like a cross between Frank Zappa
And Frank Sinatra......
And stopped and shook your head
With the biggest smile possibly
Ever seen on your face 
Since you were a toddler
Tasting ice cream for the first time.

 When you crossed the room
Headed for the door, 
I knew it was time for me
To make my presence vanish
And I turned and ran down 21st Street
Just as hard and fast as I could
Possibly run in high heels
On a cracked asphalt street
At midnight in the rain
On a Wednesday night in February.

But I wasn't fast enough
For you caught me 
By the arm, 
Twirled me around, 
My hair flying, earrings flying,
Heart beating like my brother's
Little tin drum
And just about ready to burst
Either into song or screams of fear, 
I wasn't sure which.

I had had it all worked out
Before hand
But I hadn't counted 
On you coming after me
I hadn't counted on that
Because you were 
The shyest damned man
I had ever met
And you never looked at me,
Smiled at me, noticed me,
Or gave any evidence
That you knew I existed.

Which was why
I had formulated this god-awful plan
With no hope of reciprocation
On your part
And no intention whatsoever
Of explaining myself or
Redeeming improbable intentions
On my part or anybody else's part,
Either in part or to the fullest extent
Of the law, give or take a crime.....
For I hadn't thought much further
Than taking you unawares
There at your kitchen table
Drinking wine
For I already knew that
You never locked your front door
And you always had dinner
At Tom's Cafe on Wednesday nights
And you were always home by nine.

No, I was not a stalker!
(I just knew things.)

Like I knew I had loved you
For at least six months
And that I dreamed about you
Every night
And that I had made up 
My lovesick little mind
To hunt you down
Like a dog
And kiss the living daylights
Outta ya and split
And I would say now
That that was a 
Fait Accompli.......

I was pretty proud of myself
Until I felt your hand
Go around my waist
And the other one grab my hair
And you pulled me backwards
And we went tumbling down
Into Mrs Tompkins's flower bed
Right on top of her gnome
And a granite saint that I
Couldn't rightly remember the name of
At the moment
And first thing I knew, 
You were laughing like a crazy man
And kissing me back so hard
And so sweetly that I could hardly
Even believe that I had ever thought you shy.

"Don't you think a proper introduction
Would be in order about now?" you asked, 
Pulling me to my feet and off the top
Of the unfortunate saint who had rolled down
Under a fake toadstool 
And hidden his face in shame at the shocking
Machinations of a girl, half-crazed with love
And a caught-off- guard man who didn't 
Rightly know if he should be thrilled
Or terrified out of his mind
Or what his next move should be.

"I'm the girl that loves you."
I blurted out like an idiot
And reached to shake your hand
As you shook mine back, dazed and confused
And wondering if you had heard correctly
"You....you're the girl that does what to whom?"
You stuttered and removed your hand from mine
And put it in your pocket for safe-keeping
Like I was going to take it home with me
Or worse
And so we stood there in the rain
With our hair plastered down upon our heads
And our clothes fitting us like skins of plastic.

"Well, I'm...." you began and I rushed to shush you
"I know who you are."  I said excitedly
"You work in the cubicle behind mine
And you always have tuna for lunch
And you read the paper and listen to NPR
And whistle when you walk into work."
"That's....that's... correct." you said, puzzled
And cleared your throat and kicked at a rock
With your shoe
"But why should you.......?" you began
And fell silent, reaching to remove a tendril
From across my left eye.

"Why don't we go somewhere warm?"
You finally completed a sentence
And I nodded and wiped mud and dirt
Off of your chin and brushed leaves 
From your jacket and pretended that it was
A perfectly normal thing to do
That the entire scenario was a perfectly normal
Thing to do
And that I was a perfectly normal girl
Standing in Mrs. Tompkins flower bed
In the rain which was an absolutely normal thing to do
With a man I hardly knew and who didn't
Know me at all to speak of
But boy, I sure did want to kiss you again
With your wine flavored breath and your
Soft brown eyes and your smile that was just
Barely able to contain itself
Now beaming at me and becoming prominent.

I took your arm and stepped over 
The fake toadstool, the gnome, 
The nameless, humiliated saint
And smiled a tiny smile of my own,
Wanting to believe in miracles, 
Or at the very least.....good luck
And we made our way back to your house,
Back to your door, back to the kitchen table,
Back to a fresh bottle of wine
And back to what you had been doing
Before I had so rudely interrupted you
Which, as I found out later, 
After three glasses of wine, 
Fifteen shy sweet kisses
And four that were anything but....
Was the shocking revelation
That you had been sitting there
Trying to think of a way to get me
To notice that you were alive
And about getting up the nerve 
To ask me out on a proper date
And possibly, one day, hopefully, 
Having the good fortune to
Actually kiss me like a proper gentleman
But I had ruined all that, hadn't I?

So, yes, dear children, 
That is how your father and I got together,
Fell in love, got engaged, got married,
Had all you lovely babies
And this wonderful marriage
And this wonderful life 
And these wonderful stories
And lived happily ever after
The end.......

And it had all started with me
Planning and scheming 
And taking matters into my own hands
Because your father was too shy
To do anything on his own
So I fearlessly marched myself
Up to his door, into his house,
Into his kitchen, into his lap,
"Into my heart!" you interjected
"Into his heart" I repeated
Smiling broadly and proudly
And we kissed and said at
Precisely the same moment:
"And the rest, as they say.......
Is history!!"













©by Voo
Feb 12, 2019
4:14 a.m.






















(a mindless write
in which I just typed
without thinking about
what I was typing
and seeing what was on the page
when I got through......)