Archive for May, 2015

Quoted in the Grove:

Nothing in this world can take the place of persistence. Talent will not; nothing is more common than unsuccessful people with talent. Genius will not; unrewarded genius is almost a proverb. Education will not; the world is full of educated derelicts. Persistence and determination alone are omnipotent. The slogan “press on” has solved and always will solve the problems of the human race.
~Calvin Coolidge

Some are destined to succeed, some are determined to succeed.
~H H Swami Tejomayananda

Perseverance is the hard work you do after you get tired of doing the hard work you already did.
~Newt Gingrich


Posted from the Grove:
Prewritten for Thurs (05/14) @6pm PT/9 ET is a pic by: ~John Pitre


@Writers Platform
Prewritten: tooth, consequences

~Greymane: Vacant

I met an old codger so long in the tooth
he barely remembered his name
He told me there once was a time in his youth
when they thought him too wild to tame
An expert at wicked and lecherous ways
Progressively losing his grip
From long drunken parties that lasted for days
to hootchiecoo clubs on the strip
He sold all his morals for pleasures and sin
Heavenly consequence damned
The devil sat laughing behind his dark grin
while the doors of depravity slammed
From somewhere in hell he observed a faint light
and he crawled his way out of the dark
So now he sits vacant alone in the night
on his bench in this desolate park


~Piffin: “Mermaid Sushi”

Kissing Cancun ocean
Tongue ring diving pearl
Down on my knees wet with tropical breeze
And the sweat of a vacation girl
Cat claw confidences
In hammocks wearing the moon
But conch shell consequences
Brought us surface side and soon
Vodka northbound air bus
New York City sprawl
The thing I miss most about us
Is nothing about you at all

Lime and salt and body shots
Slid my defenses down
I grabbed my brush with romance
Painted up that tourist town
Postcard to my sister:
“I’m never coming home”
She met me at the airport
She picked me up alone
Reflection in the auto glass
Tan tinted to a pall
The thing I miss most about us
Is nothing about you at all

I almost felt for a moment
I almost felt in charge
I almost felt
I almost felt
But life it looms and large
Casual commuter cancan
At the subway token booth
I rip the memories from me
Like a kite string doorknob tooth
I’ll drop them from the ferry
I won’t even watch them fall
The thing I miss most about us
Is nothing about you at all
The thing I miss most about us
Is nothing about you at all


~BarTalk:  Truth or Consequence


Impromptu:  aflutter, cider

~Greymane:  Aflutter

Jack and Jill were at the still making apple-jack
but all that Jack could focus on was Jill’s enormous rack
Whenever she would look at him he found himself aflutter
and how she glistened in the sun just melted him like butter
He lavished her with all his charm in hopes he’d get a smooch
but couldn’t pry her lips away from all the backwoods hootch
A drunken girl in flimsy clothes, no apple for her cheese
“you’re wish is my command.” he said and headed for the trees
He wobbled and he almost fell but knew what he must do
He plucked the reddest ripest one but he’d been drinking too…
From up above his woozy head there dropped a giant spider
He teetered on the flimsy branch until he fell in cider


~Piffin: “Little Miss Nutter”

Little Miss Nutter
Heart all aflutter
Sat down for Thanksgiving grace
Along came a spider
Knocked over her cider
So she shot him in the face


~BarTalk: Taste of Honey

~ . ~

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Quoted in the Grove:
Being an author is having angels whisper in your ear – and devils, too.
~Graycie Harmon

Writing is a socially acceptable form of schizophrenia.
~E L Doctorow

Being an author is like being in charge of your own personal insane asylum.
~Graycie Harmon


Posted from the Grove:
Mention has been made of the recent graphic nature of themes and prompts to come out of the grove’s Word Games. It was a good question, and serves as a chance to restate Wordgrove’s policy on censorship. We don’t. That being said, it would be fair to point out that the Platform’s Rule Book of Random Words sometimes offers up choices that are simply too juicy to pass up in the name of good taste.


~The Weepies: Living in Twilight
Compliments: Piffin


Prewritten for Thurs (05/31) @6pm PT/9 ET is: tooth, consequences 


@Writers Platform
Glass Table:

~BriarRoseEve: “A Favorite Book”

I ripped a favorite book in two.

It felt like murder. Laughs gagged midway,
severed, a child’s stifled scream.
One hit, swung, breaked just before
swirls and stars.
A man’s last breath, stopped! Perpetual
life. Death. On hold.
A kiss,
paused, lips one slip away from
An itch.
An itch.
An itch. No scratch.
A warm swig of coffee,
swallowed, sip wedged
A heartbeat, bookmarked.
A long sigh,
The tick. The to-

We love, we read books
We dream, we read books
You are a book
I loved
And would have
Loved more

But someone had ripped
in half.


Prewritten: invigorate, rejuvenate

~Piffin: “White Boy”

The moon I thought you hung
This reprobate
With your satanic tongue
You deal me in
You reel me in
With some old Lou Reed song
My fingers in your belt loops
Prove your kung fu is still strong
Reject, rejoin
Perfect, purloin
Parade me in the rain
With bated groin
A copper coin
Waiting on a train
I’d walk this walk with dignity
But all my nylons run
While stepping to the gallows
With the moon I thought you hung


~BarTalk: Happy Dirt


Impromptu: voice, schlock

~Piffin:  “Andy”

Andy was a patriot
Who’d never fought a war
He was a true believer
In the flag upon his door
Andy was a union man
He was a pamphleteer
He loved his Sunday football
And his Jesus and his beer

Andy was a motor-mouth
In love with his own voice
He hated blacks and reds and dykes
And pizza and free choice
Andy loved his firearms,
Tattoos, and boobs, no doubt
Lock, schlock and barrel
Andy had it figured out

Andy was a ‘merican
Andy was a mess
When home alone at night
He’d weep and wear his favorite dress
Deep down inside, he’d dream
A world unfurled with rainbow flags
While polishing his truck
Its bumper sticker: God Hates Fags


~Greymane: untitled

He took a slow boat to Bangkok,
and found Asian love on the dock
The sailor rejoiced
at the sound of her voice
when the size of him put her in schlock


~BarTalk: limerick


Writers in Residence:

~whitefeather @Silent Love ~ Incongruent Truths

Three new pics line the gallery walls @Silent Love. Statues: Stones coarse and fine, where everything that isn’t love has been carved away: Eros descends to a ravishing; Love, grief’s only comfort; years later, still Love.

Silent communion
the play of light and shadow
Incongruent truths

~Jason Mraz: Silent love song

~ . ~

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Quoted in the Grove:
Things are not what they appear to be; nor are they otherwise.
~Lankavatara Sutra

There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.
~William Shakespeare

What you doin’ on your back? What you doin’ on your back? You should be dancin’, yeah…
~Bee Gees



The words for this week’s Prewritten are: invigorate, rejuvenate


Prewritten (May 14): fellatio; sidearm

BarTalk: Sidearm Blues (qif)

His name was Horatio
Died alone on the patio
Balls to bone a 2:1 ratio
News came over the radio
Shot inflagrante fellatio


Greymane: Flaccid Finance (qif)

He took a long ride to the dark side of town looking for curbside romance
She flaunted her fishnets while flagging him down but she wanted the cash in advance
He said she could have any money she found in the folds of his cavernous pants
She got a bit mad when she saw that the clown was a victim of flaccid finance

He swore he would pay with funds hidden away in the bottom of one of his shoes
So she went all the way with a wanton display that his urgency could not refuse
Fellating her way through a wicked buffet with a feast of enticing taboos
His sidearm went off and the girl and the cop were featured on national news


Whitefeather: Untitled (qif)

With tense fists gripping
sidearms to steady his stance
her silky warm lips
two silhouettes in the dark
He cums for fellatio


Piffin:  “Head Full Of Bees” (qif)

Got a head full of bees
Got a heart like a drum
Got myself on my knees
Got a bottle of rum
Got a list of the things
That I shouldn’t have done
Got a load for my lingo
Got my lips on a gun
Might be going out a coward
But I’m doing it right
Sidearm fellatio
Saturday Night


Impromptu (May 14): teem, fecund

Bartalk: not-a-haiku (qif)

the world turns and teems
violent colors and green
spring fecundity


Greymane: Vacant (qif)

He’s filled with fecund visions growing distant with each breath
His seasons dry from lack of truth all teemed with dusty death
The winds that blew thru dreams he knew could never come to pass
Would carry him through horrors built on seas of broken glass
The darkness of his empty soul lay vacant in his eyes
While laughing judges execute predictable demise


Piffin: “The Writer” (qif)

Fecund in its inception
Moribund in its receipt
My one true dream
With rot did teem
And shuddered at my feet
What glories would I garner
Such stories would I craft
Yet, tales untold,
This island cold,
I’ve had to burn my raft
And feed the flames
With each unfinished draft


Glass Table

Bartalk: Nexus ~ A Collection (Previously Reviewed)


Briar Rose Eve: A Favorite Book ~ A Collection (qip)

can i stumble
break free
find somehow
a silly tune
and sing in spite
of flaming notes
dancing on
these shying cheeks

should i not turn
when music plays
a song i love

i found a candy
how sweet

and forgot

where i will not
find again


~My Morning Jacket: The Bear



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