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Archive for January, 2017

Quoted in the Grove:
A leader must have the courage to act against an expert’s advice.
~James Callaghan

The sky turned black with the flapping wings of chickens coming home to roost.
~James Callaghan

There are no instant solutions.
~James Callaghan

~~

Posted from the Grove:

Two by Request:
Bleak and sad by turn, there’s the music and the lyrics for expression in these videos, but watch for the rest of the story as it unfolds in their eyes. Note the added dimension, their phrasings and utterance as the songs get told, stripped down souls without disguise.

~Moby: Porcelain   (3:10)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5IDLDrcgU9g

~Gwen Stefani: Used to Love You   (3:47)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zeT_nYtjgTQ

~

~David Lynch: On Creativity   (2:34)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dNufijIDD-Q&feature=youtu.be

Embroidered Zoetrope: Earliest movies woven of yarn. Two minutes of old-fashioned eye candy to the mesmerizing music of modern trance (2:10)
http://elliotschultz.com/work/embroidered-zoetrope/

Popcorn bustin’ its kernal at 15,000 frames per second, super slo-mo, super hot, super kool (1:43)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DDigjlBlSY8&feature=youtu.be

(Thx to Rusty Blazenhoff)

~~

Prewritten for Thurs (02/02) @6pm PT/9 ET is: trap door, boa, crap shoot, burlesque   (any 2 or 3 out of 4)

~~

@Writers Platform

Prewritten: rim, stampede, ritual

~MissMerry: Prewritten by MM

Observing the ancient rituals…
Boy sees girl, asks girl out to dinner.
Sitting staring above a candle,
her tongue slides along the rim of her wineglass
as her eyes smile.
His thoughts dance, his heart beats
a stampede through his chest.
He notes the swell of her breasts,
the curve of her cheek,
the stray curl that keeps escaping
to dangle against her brow
which she keeps trying to tuck behind her ear.
He feels a jolt as he realizes
She is the one.
She notes the new haircut,
his cologne that lingers in her senses
from the hug she gave him when he picked her up,
his quiet smile, and kind eyes.
These are the things she wants to remember.
That this night is just the beginning,
as she imagines his face as it may be in 30 years…
As she surprises herself, realizing,
He is the one.
These are the moments to savor
and keep precious forever.

~

~Greymane: Native Need

A distant thunder rolling midnight clouds across the plain
The tribe waits on the canyon rim in ritual restrain
A million heavy hoof beats drum a desperate last stampede
Another crimson winter when the desert starts to bleed

~

~Piffin: “Slow-Motion Stampede”

I’m out of the gate and you clutch at the sheets
With every kiss that I plant
My lips go down and your breath picks up
With the cadence of a ritual chant
Salt and lime on the rim of a glass
Help me to map out the ride
Taking my time on the rim of your ass
As snow piles up outside

~

~BarTalk: Pamplona Bull

~~

Impromptu:
Listen to the howling wind in this video…
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3eILoQChD_A

…while viewing this live action feed of Odin’s snow covered parking lot in Reykjavik, Iceland
http://myndavel.hve.is/view/index.shtml

_____

~Piffin: Tip

Half past midnight.

I sat in the car and waited.

I smoked a cigarette, looked out at the snow and ice.

There weren’t many vehicles in the parking lot at this hour, so I kept mine off, so as not to draw attention.

It was windy outside. Every now and again, a gust would rock the car. I was starting to grow cold.

I spotted Kacy cutting across the lot. She was bundled up: mittens and a parka; leg warmers and fur boots. She kept slipping on the ice, finally slowed her roll to a penguin step.

She made it to the car, got in the passenger side.

“It’s ass cold out,” she said, slamming the car door.

“You got it?” I asked.

“The fuck you think I’m doing out here?” she responded, handing me the bindle.

I gave her the cash.

She counted it.

“We good?” I asked.

She nodded. She didn’t get out of the car.

“We’re good, right?” I pressed.

“Yeah, we’re aces,’ she said. “But, if it’s no big, I could really use a ride out of here.”

I looked out the windshield. The ice. The snow.

“Kacy,” I said, “I’d love to give you a lift, but I don’t plan on going anywhere anytime soon.”

She looked at me.

“For real?” she asked.

I nodded.

“Right here?”

I tore at the bindle.

“Okay, chica,” she said, opening her door. “Catch you on the flipflop.”

She got out, slammed the door, walked off into the wind.

I unbuttoned my coat, took out my works.

I unzipped the case, opened it. The needle tip sparkled in the parking lot light.

I wasn’t going anywhere.

Not anytime soon.

~

~MissMerry: MM Impromptu

Prison guards with cold asses
stay in their towers and complain:
“What is this style wherein comely lasses
wear uniform pants?” – boggles the brain.

~

~Greymane: Impromptu

Warm behind my wall of glass
Senses opened wide
Desolation’s lullaby is howling just outside
Take shelter from the mournful winds that gather in the storm
He comes for those who turn away unable to keep warm
Wrapping icy promises with Winter’s frigid breeze
he plays his windy symphony with breathe he cannot freeze

~

~BarTalk: Reykjavik Storm

~ . ~

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Quoted in the Grove:
This isn’t about love, because love works. It’s about politics.

~

There are four stages in a marriage. First there’s the affair, then the marriage, then children and finally the fourth stage, without which you cannot know a woman, the divorce.
~Norman Mailer

You never really know a woman until you meet her in court.
~Norman Mailer

Alimony is the curse of the writing class.
~Norman Mailer

EndQuote:
Love is a serious mental disease.
~Plato

~~

Posted from the Grove:
Requested in the Grove:

~Lady Gaga: Teeth
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1sDD0Oei4UU

~

Ed Sheeran: You Need Me, I Don’t Need You
(Only one-man band to play Carnegie Hall)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DV0TJZ7Kp40

~~

Prewritten for Thurs (01/26) @6pm PT/9 ET is: rim, stampede, ritual
(any combination, 2 of 3)

~~

@Writers Platform

Prewritten: romp, balcony, sloppy

~Greymane: Wobbly

Some say the world is round as reason, balanced by the cracks
I like to think we live in kingdoms grown on turtles backs

Beneath a dome of waters that the Truth won’t let us see
are castles built of tortoise shell in jungles made of sea

A promise of the painted moon in oceans made of sleep
with towers standing bright against the darkness of the deep

Turtles trudging stardust trails burdened evermore…
A sloppy romping turtle stomp from shore to distant shore

If worlds wobble weary with the turtles tired crawl
I’ll stand below your balcony and catch you when you fall

~

~Piffin: “The Bra’d of Avon”

Lo, Juliet on balcony
A Shakespearean romp
Of love and hate and youth and fate
In feather, gown, and pomp
With stage production lackluster
And verse sloppy, at best
The only thing that saved the show
Was Julie’s comely breast

~

~BarTalk: Backlot Two, On Backlot Three,  and a ku

~~

Impromptu: ku on a nipple

~Piffin: ku

Sunlit arc perfect
Lipstick from the night before
Shows me where to kiss

~

~Greenie: ku

Buds perked pinked ready
begging for to be devoured
take me now within

~

~Greymane: ku

Chilling insistence
Like a blade across my back
Frozen arousal

~

~BarTalk:  ( . )(  .)

~ . ~

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Quoted in the Grove:
Learning music by reading about it is like making love by mail.
~Luciano Pavarotti

Music is only love looking for words.
~Lawrence Durrell

Love cannot express the idea of music, while music may give an idea of love.
~Louis-Hector Berlioz

~~

Posted from the Grove:

Special Request
~Tommy Emmanuel (Aussie guitarist extraordinaire)

Classical Gas
Blisters the fretboard
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S33tWZqXhnk

Over The Rainbow
Sweetens the sound
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0cHeNscKZN0

~

My guitar is not a thing. It is an extension of myself. It is who i am.
~Joan Jett

~~

Prewritten for Thurs (01/19) @6pm PT/9 ET is: romp, balcony, sloppy
(any combination, 2 of 3)

~~

@Writers Platform

Prewritten: signature, polka

~Greymane: untitled

He played every year at the Polkafest
but none of the girls seemed to be impressed
They all were immune
to his signature tune
accordion to what he confessed

~

~MissMerry: Prewritten by MM

Opalescent energy floes
Aurora Borealis
Shimmering in the northern skies
wrapped in patient, silent stars.
The souls of our loved ones for whom we cried
the collected energies of all who died
Illuminated.
Neon signature of God.
Electric waves of the sun
let us have a peek
The spirits dance.

~

~BarTalk: Lombardo’s

~~

Impromptu: guitar, cured, shelter
(any combination, 2 of 3)

~Greenie: The Shelter of The Grove

In the shelter of the Grove
guitar strums a tune
music fills the air
curing an ache in my soul
leaving me at peace

~

~Greymane: Reaching

Echoes on the silent winds get colder all the time
They tell me winter’s come again in frozen pantomime
I call on fallen memories that shelter me from view
I wrapped my dreams in cured disease I could not battle through
I placed a lonely song upon the wings of my guitar
and prayed the sound would track you down no matter where you are
I reach forever reaching for the presence of your soul
to place inside the place I hide the things I can’t control

~

~MissMerry: MM Impromptu

There is no security in the life of a guitar player, but FLoyd played guitar. FLoyd BECAME his guitar. After a few drinks and a hit on the pipe, his fingers flew across the frets. The cigarette smoke swirled around like fog, the sounds of voices settled, quieting down until the only sound in the room was the band, and Floyds guitar.

Face squinched into the “I’m about to cum” look, he stroked his guitar like a lover at first, then frantic in the solo. In his groove, he never missed a note. He enveloped the room, every face turned toward him, even the barkeep standing, hands still, watching Floyd play.

FLoyd lived the life… for his habits, for his dick, and for his music. There was no way he could be cured of any of it. It was not just a lifestyle, it was his LIFE.

FLoyd died happily in the arms of one of his favorite hookers. His heart burst after playing 3 sets at the Pearl then finishing off a quart of Jack, a couple of grams of coke, and an Adderall someone in the bar had given him.

He had played well that night. He had lived like he played – full speed, balls to the wall, all or nothing… His was a life that ended in success. The recordings we have of him don’t do him justice though. You kinda just had to know him.

~

~BarTalk: Gimme Shelter … and a ku

 

~ . ~

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Quoted in the Grove:
History is a vast early warning system.
~Norman Cousins

Each nation is fighting a righteous war, brought about by the intolerable knavery of the other.
~Kenneth Roberts

Once you hear the details of victory, it is hard to distinguish it from a defeat.
~Jean-Paul Sartre

~~

Posted from the Grove:
This week coming: There’s Club Fair.
Wordgrove is well represented at this year’s Fair with WG and other club-related interests showing a presence. Look for events to be hosted at each of the following sites.

~Greenie’s: Wordgrove At The Grotto

~Piffin and Greymane’s: Gin Clubs United

~GaryBob’s: Explorer’s Club at the Wanderlust

~

A reminder: Any club member wishing to host an event @Quill Point, Wordgrove’s clubhouse, is authorized and welcome to do so.

~

Special Request
~Roxy Music: More Than This
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kOnde5c7OG8

~Andy Williams: Lonely Street
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mn6DB6-NPnQ

~~

Prewritten for Thurs (01/12) @6pm PT/9 ET is: signature, polka

~~

@Writers Platform

Prewritten: jelly beans, ass

~MissMerry: Prewritten by MM

Karaoke at the Dive
and things are getting strange
Freebird, Crazy, Stayin’ Alive
it’s all a bit deranged

An aged Elvis took the mike
and belted out a song,
but “Blue suede shoes” in Portuguese
just sounded really wrong

Nursing a White Russian
a wearing a nappy mink –
A tranny manatee starts yelling
“GET OFF THE STAGE, …YOU STINK!”

A burly biker chick got angry
and told Tranny to “Take a hike”
But then she sang him “The Letter”,
and lifted her sweater
and showed him sweet nothings he liked.

The old man Davis was grinning
He was feeling pretty damn good
He’d stuck jelly beans up his ass in the men’s room
– better than Viagra for really sweet wood.

The singing began to get scary-
I thought this was supposed to be fun?
Just clap when you like it
and clap when you don’t
because you know you are glad when they’re done.

~

~Piffin: ku

My mouth surfs your form
Adrift ass and jellybean
Sweet serenity

~

~Greymane: Candy Bar

It was another lonely Friday at the local candy bar
He snickered at the airheads through his milky way cigar
It happens every payday when the big hunks make the rounds
The Mary Janes and sweethearts flash their kit-kats and their mounds
The nerds with all their nougat wish they had a bit-o-honey
The peeps were good n plenty ’til it wasn’t even funny
Rowdy jolly ranchers red roped skittles in the bowl
The rocky road is nutty but it’s how the tootsies roll
Played the sugar daddy ass card with more mallo than his means
She blurted laffy-taffy at his droopy jelly beans
U-no …

~

~BarTalk: Hangover, and Riddle Me

~~

Impromptu: patient, crepuscular

~Piffin: “Downtown Beirut”

Crepuscular are we
Patient
Waiting
Patient, above all
At the end of the bar
Waiting
Hungry
Her throat
Ivory
Golden
Perfect
Patient, above all

~

~Greymane: ku

Crepuscular fiend
Slumbers in the daylight hours
Patient in his thirst

~

MissMerry: Bats

Crepuscular creatures are patient
as the twilight is painting the sky.
The gloaming has won,
the daylight is done,
as the night flyers take to the sky.

~

~BarTalk: S’veldt Dining

~ . ~

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Quoted in the Grove: Perspectives on a New Year

New Year’s eve is like every other night; there is no pause in the march of the universe, no breathless moment of silence among created things that the passage of another twelve months may be noted; and yet no man has quite the same thoughts this evening that come with the darkness on other nights
~Hamilton Wright Mabie

We will open the book. Its pages are blank. We are going to put words on them ourselves. The book is called Opportunity and its first chapter is New Year’s Day.
~Edith Lovejoy Pierce

For last year’s words belong to last year’s language and next year’s words await another voice.
~T S Eliot

An optimist stays up until midnight to see the new year in. A pessimist stays up to make sure the old year leaves.
~Bill Vaughn

New Year’s Eve, where auld acquaintance be forgot. Unless, of course, those tests come back positive.
~Jay Leno

New Year’s Day – Now is the accepted time to make your regular annual good resolutions. Next week you can begin paving hell with them as usual.
~Mark Twain

New Year’s Day is every man’s birthday.
~Charles Lamb

Happiness is too many things these days for anyone to wish ill on anyone lightly. So let’s just wish each other a bileless New Year and leave it at that.
~Helen Fielding

~~

Posted from the Grove:

The passing of an era, the dawning of a new one. Whatever patience, determination and the creative urge can manifest, here is your poster child:
The Sunset Sunrise

~

We who have been merry to celebrate the ChristMass, now marry the New Year … irrevocably. To the new year, whatever it brings

~~

The Most Commonly Misused English Words: Fun reading if you love words, otherwise, merely instructive
http://attn.com/stories/13782/most-commonly-misused-english-words

~

As the year turns and we begin our winter, by special request, from the movie: Room in Rome
~Russian Red: Loving Strangers

– or –

Scenes from the movie flesh out this version of the song and give the discovery of love new context. A one-time love, and once only … before the winter without

Advisory: Adult content

http://www.rtve.es/alacarta/videos/programa/loving-strangers-russian-red-bso-habitacion-roma/753347/

~~

Prewritten for Thurs (01.05) @6pm PT/9 ET is: jelly bean, ass

@Writers Platform:

Prewritten: exit/whirlpool, or, back door/ whirlwind

~Greymane: Prewritten (whirlwind and exit)

I was standing somewhere once, It was cold as being forgot, when I felt a hush settle on the land. I stood and tried to quiet every voice and every thought but the moment slipped away like empty hands. It’s like waking from a dream when you try to ease back in but no matter how you try the more it fades. It’s like trying to find tomorrow when you’re tied to where you’ve been through an exit that reality betrayed. In that whirlwind of wonder just a moment past my mind where hazy visions slumber surface deep. I swear I still can hear them as they vanish undefined to wait inside the prison of my sleep.

~

~Piffin: “Monogamish”

Brown eyes
Black lashes
A seraph arching on the bed
Clenched fists
Drape sashes
With sigils to ward off
The scripture we’d read

Brown eyes
A whirlpool
My love is watching from her chair
Her throne
Her toadstool
The bones of my innocence
Tied in her hair

As she whispers
And chants
All false light
Is expelled from my head

Eyes rolled back
With romance
She directs my gaze
Back to the bed

A seraph girl who smiled
A seraph girl
Beguiled

Brown eyes
An exit
Sometimes

~

~BarTalk: Refugee

Too excited by whirlwinds
To exit by the back door
He stayed, she left
Headless in the headline
News from The Whirlpool

~~

Impromptu: dangling, panties

~Piffin: I Drove Out of Nashville

I drove out of Nashville at sunset.
I drove out of Nashville without looking back.
I drove out of Nashville in midsummer rain with eighty-thousand dollars in a borrowed gunny sack.
It felt good to own for a moment.
It felt good to own for a time.
It felt good to own, like the pretty little dancer I met outside the Five-and-Dime.
She lived with her sister in a trailer.
She lived like she was already rich.
She lived for cocaine, sticking ponies in her vein, random sex, and the scratch of an itch.
She took me out dancing one evening.
She took me out back of the bar.
She took me, hands groping, mouths hungry and hoping, on the hood of someone’s Cadillac car.
I drove out of Nashville at sunset.
I’d nothing much to show, but for the money I was hauling.
I drove out of Nashville at sunset.
Speedometer read 60, but it felt like I was crawling.
I drove out of Nashville at sunset.
One more place at my back, without my forward any clearer.
I drove out of Nashville at Sunset.
I had a pair of dancer’s panties dangling from my rearview mirror.

~

~Greymane: Impromptu

He had left the bar sodden with scotch
while dangling too much of his crotch
He provoked vigilantes
in nothing but panties
A victim of neighborhood watch

~

~Odin: untitled

Sated vengeance once realized is bliss,
however not quite as wonderful as a lover’s gentle kiss.

Passion’s dangling might is eternally creating new adventures in the night,
as will reconciliation’s sight after a foolish, meaningless fight.

An offering of panties is the strongest gift of all
which can turn even mightiest king into groveling thrall.

~

~BarTalk: new years party

panties falling
jaws dropping
tongues lolling
dicks dangling
rise to the occasion

~ . ~

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