Scriber's Night Game

By scriber - About Me - E-mail this page - Add to My Favorites - Add to Blog List - See other blogs in Poetry

Saturday, April 28, 2007

Freedom Ride...

Bound fo Glory I fight the clack clack rhythm Of the outbound freight Sensual sound of the freedom train, Of the singing train. Too far gone to come down I watch thu. Dawn rise over the blurred countryside Caps freedom ride the sunlit Morning ride. Persistent vision of sharp teeth Catholic fish... Sign in to see full entry.

He Gone Go Ter Higher Ground...

"He Gone Go Ter Higher Ground..." While in Detroit he went always alone to a local fast food establishment; say, walk his own way, without fan nor fare to find whatever made his nomadic day. I searched here and there along the Boulevard of Broken Ho's looking for a clue to his life thereafter; and... Sign in to see full entry.

Thursday, April 26, 2007

Two Bloggers or One?

When I read these bloggers through, the question arises in my mind; are they one or two. They encourage each other, "strong stuff," never weak, and start the "a real treat" type comments ball rolling, priming the pump, so to speak. And both use the same basic writing technique. I think it's pretty... Sign in to see full entry.

American Idol--Get On With the Show...

Way I see it, this is an example of an English guy, so money loaded from AI that now he is feeling guilty. He ruins the flow, by tossing in a lot of singers, who have nothing to do with what made the show a hit. Meaning, the audience who expect to see a new talent presentation elimination have to... Sign in to see full entry.

Based on the Past

Harry hangs up calmly, fresh from long talk with the married girlfriend, say: “I got that blonde bitch down like a book.” “ Fact or fiction?” I query, “Maybe yer could tell me what plot it play, when it 'bout to end.” He smile, “Like the Bible, going on many meanings, lot lay on de individual... Sign in to see full entry.

Wednesday, April 25, 2007

A Misunderstanding...

They sit near thu healing fire; he breathe unto thu golden flame; and look beyond the dancing light. His little boy, dePoo, call his nephew, be there too, a ward of the insane, so to speak. "Son Poo!" the old man shout, for he couldn't hear it thunder, you want to know what it all about, uh, down... Sign in to see full entry.

Tuesday, April 24, 2007

The Bear Truth...

I look and do not see, not immediately, what happening ter de dansing poet; his blau clouds and danses are gonna be missed, by me if he gone on ter mere fertile territory; maybe he criss cross the country with de Barny Baily. I allas like a good laugh ter start the day; never fail to check the usual... Sign in to see full entry.

Monday, April 23, 2007

The Performer...

Off back center I see her like a sad clown circus act, she laugh, talk loud, but to me seem down, out of step with reality: unkempt in appearance and apparently uncaring about her impression on all who see her big shoes dancing, prancing 'bout ter self fed beat from music in her head. Steppin,... Sign in to see full entry.

Sunday, April 22, 2007

New Poet in Town...

De new poet comes strollin freely, promise to write love gayly, cuts on othere unnecessary laity; because "They's supposed to be blaudy," he fake sincerity; use Old English terms like dey did do in de day of Shakes: de grayber sky, de babbling brookies natural nature sell and larvae in bloome' goes... Sign in to see full entry.

Friday, April 20, 2007

He Figured Out How To Win...

He was a small boy, skinny and ill fed; potatoes and bread were staple foods in the life he led; yet he was not afraid of the bigger bad bullies; forced to fight them just about every evening after school; went by his Golden Rule: do unto others as they do unto u. They finally gave up, knowing they... Sign in to see full entry.

Headlines (What is this?)