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 on: December 08, 2017, 08:31:08 AM 
Started by Chris Dudley - Last post by Chris Dudley
Iíve been dragooned to a handbell choir
Clear music stands made of acrylic
Tables covered in thick foam
White gloves to protect the brass.

Iíve stood alert for the downbeat
The counting along the measures
To ring one note in a run
Then damp it at its full value.

The peel of bells rung down the line
Each coming off the shoulder
Each oneís ringing falls on a beat
The bells shape resonance together.

The clunk of the hammer as it hits home
On the the swing at the snap of the wrist
Vibration in the strap and into the palm
The back swing opens the sound up.

 on: December 08, 2017, 07:00:13 AM 
Started by Chris Dudley - Last post by Chris Dudley
I used to stroke my chin line
Through a curing beard
It joined the mustache
I used to wear.

A black beard and mustache
Though my hair was brown
A beard Iíd trim
For myself.

The stubble comes in grey now
Could be time again
But five blade in a razor
Make shaving too easy.

Abread counts as a mask
Hides tension in the jaw
If the lips smile but not the eyes
Mirth is hidden too.

 on: December 08, 2017, 06:47:07 AM 
Started by Chris Dudley - Last post by Chris Dudley
My back to it, the roar of the crowd
Like the hotdog guy at Camden Yard
Iím working the crowd, not watching TDs
The excitement still raises my ears.

This roar, this rumble of stomping feet
The din in the ear
This release of triumph
The rousing touchdown cheer.

Iíve got more to sell before halftime
50/50 I call
Catch an eye, split the strip
Of tickets down the midline.

On the far side of the field
A new shout goes up
The other team has scored again
Around me I hear groans.

 on: December 08, 2017, 06:39:32 AM 
Started by Chris Dudley - Last post by Chris Dudley
An ox cart hauled the stone
The stones of old Christ Church
The river abandoned, silted up
The stones moved to the railroad.

A yoke of oxen trudge in their way
Stone by stone
They move the church
To serve the railroad built town.

Again beside the courthouse
The bell tower got its place
The calling bell, the tailor bell
Their ropes down through the floors.

They chew the cud, those oxen
They amble at a walk
But stones are stacked on stone
In their labor they reshape the sky.

 on: December 08, 2017, 06:21:04 AM 
Started by Chris Dudley - Last post by Chris Dudley
One stone knaps another, one flake at a time
The spearhead finding itís shape
The carver knows his subject lives in the stone
Itís his job to flake the rest away.

The stone that heís working came from far away
Traded for a mammoth pelt
This piece is precious, not like other stone
This piece can bring the mammoth down.

The hunt of the mammoth, the run of five days
To tire the beast Ďtill he is still
Then this flake of spearhead must show its worth
Bring the giant all the way to the ground.

 on: December 07, 2017, 05:01:55 PM 
Started by John M - Last post by John M
she had a butt like a bell
made my ding dong scream 'holy hell!'
she's ringing out for me as far as i can tell
like I'm at the top of the tower in the center of town
and everybody below starts crowding around
by the look of their faces, they heard the sound
she had a butt like a bell
she had a butt like a bell
she made my ding dong start to swell
oh wait, she's a dude, there's my ticket to hell
they watched me staring now they wanna watch me fall
from the top of the tower in the center of town
now the red faces of the crowd start to push and yell
a mob of believers of god's good word
they're taking their flame to this tower of wood
screaming 'you'll burn like you should! you'll burn like you should!'
i dodged a tomato and down i fell
all cause i look at the dude with a butt like a bell.

okay I'm done.

 on: December 07, 2017, 12:44:42 PM 
Started by dccavi - Last post by dccavi
Hollow ringing over the cold campus. The wind pierces your ears and they ring. Sweet dough for lunch, icing melts on your lips, chocolate sticks in the back of your throat, the flavor seething. Hot tea burning through a paper cup. The leaves have fallen quickly while you were inside sleeping through a windy night. Gusts scream through the midnight air. The clear sky lets the UV light through. The brick buildings radiate heat and melt the thin sheet of snow. The goose feathers in your coat shield you from the wind; absolutely worth the money, but you do wish you had brought a hat. Sensitive ears, dry skin, itchy back, runny nose. Music being pumped into your ears as a distraction. Blue buds,

 on: December 07, 2017, 06:29:54 AM 
Started by kbmusiq - Last post by kbmusiq
The taste of rust on my tongue and lips makes me feel like Iíve eaten a bunch of rusty nails, silver metal in my mouth from like dropped coins coming from a nasty water puddle, the nasty rust all over my finger nails making me itch all over, feeling of the hot ground under my feet like walking into a steamy sauna, round figures in my face and huge buildings all around like Iím in New York City, dark tunnels of concrete surrounding me like a cave, footsteps following close behind me, have I picked up his coins that he believes belongs to him, smiling and laughing all the way through this alley of money, smelling the roses, the trees and late autumn with winter creeping around the corner, chicken and all kinds of food smells coming from the corner restaurants, walking faster and faster as this man is trying to creep up on me, get away, heart beating fast and simultaneously with the steps which suddenly turn into running, looking behind me I find no one is there, where could he have gone, turning back around heís standing right in front of me with a million dollars in his hand and says ďhave you dropped something, I believe this belongs to youĒ, I suddenly realize he wasnít chasing me for the heck of it but trying to give me back something so precious that belongs to me, wait a minute...

 on: December 05, 2017, 09:33:47 AM 
Started by AlohaAlex - Last post by AlohaAlex
Her cheer bounces like bubbles above my head.   Infectious to the touch her movements were light and made the room feel warm like recognizing a familiar face.   She wears a red knitted sweater with a couple decades woven into each patterned patch sloppily sown onto the front and back.  Her yellowish-white teeth are always showing sending electric signals, making the corners of my mouth stand for no reason.   My cheek bones began to shake under tension of our constant smiles.   Cinnamon mint aroma sits quietly in the corner, only speaking up for seasonal reminders or when beckoned by this sweet little old lady, who is now reminding me of my grandmother.  Sweet, sugary memories sent my blood sugar soaring with delight as I relive so many Christmas days past in mere seconds.  Every year, she turns this boring office building into a factory of joy and light, something these walls haven't seen at least for months.  Her laughs will still be heard when I walk past the lunch room.  We needed this.

 on: December 04, 2017, 06:02:13 PM 
Started by oohl90 - Last post by oohl90
12/4/2017 - Oxen
Annoying flies buzz near my ears, my attempts at swatting them away are met with tickles as they land on my dry cracking snout. As the sun grows in the sky, it shines light on the hard day's work that lies ahead. Rotting wooden carriages creak under the grip of termite appetites as they are fastened to my heavy leather harness. The dewy grass is wet against my tired worn hooves. The yin and yang of rank dirty hide mixed with fresh morning twist into a crisp musk causing a loud snort to leap from my nostrils. I snarl and moan under the weight on my back. I belong to a heard of older oxen, our working years should be long behind us, but alas here we are, wandering the boundless acreage once again. My crankiness warps even the sweetest grass into tangy slop. Whips hiss in the air and weíre off, grunting as we trudge over stale dirt and sharp rocks.

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