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For the PDF file version of these three poems - http://compositionawebb.pbworks.com/w/file/fetch/131207100/threepoems.pdf

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“The Quiet Chorus”

Sometimes that quiet roar
Can be heard from different throats
That roar shakes
But not the earth anymore
Just those bones that carry it
Voices that once sang
Melodies with skylarks, ocean waves
And those great drums
Hidden beneath thousands of chests
Those voices now sing through the body

Perhaps when old age
Raises its voice
It is not to call for help
But instead to alert others
Signaling them to start running
Giving them more time to pretend
That those still singing melodies will escape

But in those voices
The grains of years pass through
A new song sounds out
In a patient chorus
But be careful when singing with that chorus
There are those listening within it
Hearing what those bones beneath have to say

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“Temporary Boarders”

Underfoot there is rich, fertile soil
Where many roots run deep
But with each new crop we spoil
Watered by the tears we weep

Gaze upon how we graze
Down we devour
Feeding our constant malaise
Which we systematically empower

Trees grow but they are not the same
Beneath their shadows where we practice refrain
Constantly searching for our breath to reclaim
While stumbling over an unfamiliar terrain

We creep back now into our deep
Where ancient judgment lies asleep
Where ghosts and demons dwell
With a burning hunger no one can quell

During the day we will plant our seeds
Carefully working between the weeds
The rocky soil our hands scour
While under past shadows we cower

The weeds act as our borders
Temporary boarders
Bending and dying when we need them to
And consuming the seed before each harvest is through

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“Songbook”

I am making a book
Out of all of the poems and songs that you have written
I am taking all of the pieces of the old memories
And trying to convert them into young hopes
I am trying to rewrit..

Excerpt from Henry Miller’s book Sexus (The Rosy Crucifixion #1) 1962, page 31

“But if your heart is breaking with joy—well, it’s a bit boring, don’t you know. Tears are easier to put up with than joy. Joy is destructive: it makes others uncomfortable. ‘Weep and you weep alone’—what a lie that is! Weep and you will find a million crocodiles to weep with you. The world is forever weeping. The world is drenched in tears. Laughter, that’s another thing. Laughter is momentary—it passes. But joy, joy is a kind of ecstatic bleeding, a disgraceful sort of supercontentment which overflows from every pore of your being. You can’t even make people joyous just by being joyous yourself. Joy has to be generated by oneself: it is or it isn’t. Joy is founded on something too profound to be understood and communicated. To be joyous is to be a madman in a world of sad ghosts” (Miller, p. 31).

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“Aphorisms for Anatolia”

A human is an unknown quality and quantity.

Depending on the perspective, one’s humanity is reasonable in the afternoon, visceral in the evening, and contrite in the morning.

One mistake that humanity has made is that they have agreed they are civilized.

Humans work in cities and cities dwell in humans.

For all of their great potential, machines are the caterpillar to the humans’ butterfly.

The human voice echoes, the city dampens.

The human mind seeks the warmth of the womb from the city, something which nature refused to give.

The city provides humans with the false sense of the womb; nature provides the dirt in which to bury that false sense.

Nature has forests, oceans, and mountains; humans have cities, nuclear power plants, and universities.

Humans need tools in order to create, whereas nature needs only itself.

Humans need the complexities of language to describe their experiences, whereas nature is the experience.

In nature, there is a calm before a storm; for humans, this is called religion.

For the artwork:
..

For the pdf file for these three poems - http://compositionawebb.pbworks.com/w/file/fetch/131038821/threemorepoems.pdf

“Never”

Caught
Within the swirl of mayflies
Wondering what is the
Thing called the sun
Never to feel its
Rumored rays on me
Only to know the story of it
Told by ancient languages
From those about to die
While a day passes
And the evening
Brings the final
Casting off of my outer shell

------------------------------------

“Lacewings”

From dirt funnels
You rise
Soil cocoons
Metamorphosis complete
In the spring’s cold
Waiting on my ceiling
The red star appears
At the heels of the hunter
Run toward the east, starving
Both faces consumed by the sun

------------------------------------

“Their Whispers are Chants and Moths Around the Porch Light”

Gray January blankets
the distance between
the brain and the songs

Then a collision of sounds

Exit the climb toward the apex
for now must begin the climb
toward dominion

Embrace the morning mists
Only those who embrace
the decline are truly alive

Those who shun it are less alive

And then those unaware are like
moths in a fog

The sparrows chirp sweeter

The morning dew feels softer
against the skin

Ancient melodies interpret the
feeling of the ground underfoot
intervening only to intertwine
the waves of sound sent from
the soft hum of car tires passing
by slowly on wet gravel

Let loose the lucid whispers from
the people just beyond the
window

Their sounds are the mantra

Their hearts are the chords and
drums

Their whispers are chants and
moths around the porch light

Those who weep watch silently
as the magnetism of fluttering
wings beat against the glowing
light

For the artwork:

"the one that got away" - http://fav.me/d8i3z7

"lightning bug" v.1 - http://fav.me/d5cnxe

"Lightning bug" v.2 - http://fav.me/d5bwhw7

"dreamin'" - http://fav.me/d8u9qv

For the PDF file version of these three poems - http://compositionawebb.pbworks.com/w/file/fetch/130997415/three%20poems.pdf

“Dandelion Evening”

Beneath a blue sheen veneer
Those light feelings float on the mist
Carefully the white puffs cohere
Lazy eyes cast upward cannot resist

As the sunlight in that purple sky shines
Hearts and hands clamber
The drone of soft voices confines
Through shades of amber

Chasing moths in mid-flight
Around the watermelon crepe myrtle
Venturing to the edges of the porch light
As moving shadows and the dark reunite
And imaginations become fertile

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“Moths Around the Porch Light”

Fluttering sound
They came down to me
The light they found
As soundless as can be

Again they came down
Whispering in my ear
As they flew around
Up again to the light they flew near

A beacon shining in the night
They splashed in its warm glow
Living for its light
That only they can know

They fluttered around the porch light
Until Orion made his presence felt
And they left in a hurried flight
Toward Orion’s Bright Belt

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“Orchid Tree”

Summer rains
Make your petals glisten
Ants in chains
March up and down your limbs as we listen
For the soft hum of bees
Redolence, soothing our souls
As your leaves rustle in the breeze
And under the noon sun your color glows

For the artwork:

"fireflies" - http://fav.me/d95apyr

"moths around the porch light" - http://fav.me/d7lvcpn

"and then in September" v. 1 - http://fav.me/d5hyg3

"and then in September" v.2 - http://fav.me/d5aq3p9

DeviantArt - https://www.deviantart.com/formor

Minds - https://www.minds.com/adamwebb

Gab - https://gab.ai/adamwebb

Subsccccccrrrrriiiiibe!

Buy my meeeeerrrrrrch!

“‘Repent Harlequin!' Said the Ticktockman” by Harlan Ellison (a short story originally published in Galaxy Science Fiction Magazine in December 1965)

For Part 1 - https://youtu.be/N2xMIpA_UHw

For Part 2 - https://youtu.be/DMVcorzm90M

For Part 3 - https://youtu.be/taZqa67Gl5w

For Part 4 - https://youtu.be/G-raqCi68b4

The comic book adaptation (Alex Nino artwork from Unknown Worlds of Science-Fiction, vol. 1, no. 3, May 1975) –
http://bronzeageofblogs.blogspot.com/2009/03/and-from-unknown-worlds-of-science.html

“‘Repent Harlequin!' Said the Ticktockman” by Harlan Ellison (a short story originally published in Galaxy Science Fiction Magazine in December 1965)

For Part 1 - https://youtu.be/N2xMIpA_UHw

For Part 2 - https://youtu.be/DMVcorzm90M

For Part 3 - https://youtu.be/taZqa67Gl5w

The comic book adaptation (Alex Nino artwork from Unknown Worlds of Science-Fiction, vol. 1, no. 3, May 1975) –
http://bronzeageofblogs.blogspot.com/2009/03/and-from-unknown-worlds-of-science.html

“‘Repent Harlequin!' Said the Ticktockman” by Harlan Ellison (a short story originally published in Galaxy Science Fiction Magazine in December 1965)

For Part 1 - https://youtu.be/N2xMIpA_UHw

For Part 2 - https://youtu.be/DMVcorzm90M

The comic book adaptation (Alex Nino artwork from Unknown Worlds of Science-Fiction, vol. 1, no. 3, May 1975) –
http://bronzeageofblogs.blogspot.com/2009/03/and-from-unknown-worlds-of-science.html

“‘Repent Harlequin!' Said the Ticktockman” by Harlan Ellison (a science-fiction short story from 1965)

For Part 1 - https://youtu.be/N2xMIpA_UHw

The comic book adaptation (Alex Nino artwork) –
http://bronzeageofblogs.blogspot.com/2009/03/and-from-unknown-worlds-of-science.html

“‘Repent Harlequin!' Said the Ticktockman” by Harlan Ellison (a science-fiction short story from 1965)

The comic book adaptation (Alex Nino artwork) –
http://bronzeageofblogs.blogspot.com/2009/03/and-from-unknown-worlds-of-science.html

Full title: "Shirley Brice Heath’s Ways with Words: Language, life, and work in communities and classrooms – Part 5"

For the full script of the video - http://compositionawebb.pbworks.com/w/file/fetch/130144302/wayswithwords5.pdf

For the blog posting on minds.com - https://www.minds.com/adamwebb/blog/shirley-brice-heath-s-ways-with-words-language-life-and-work-908939138102857728

On Google Books - https://books.google.com/books?id=ZvwEDOhLbpEC&printsec=frontcover#v=onepage&q&f=false

For Part 1 (original video) - https://youtu.be/aAkTcuEOGLo

For Part 1 (better video quality) - https://youtu.be/SMTlTqV1Kak

For Part 2 - https://youtu.be/jNIL-0IFhog

For Part 3 - https://youtu.be/jJlTbemskEQ

For Part 4 - https://youtu.be/4n3wOW0NJbU

Kicked to the curb

There was a time
When I could rhyme
But now my lyrics are a crime
I’m like Barry, they have me turnin’ on a dime
But that’s okay
Every dog has its day
And I’ll get mine
But I ain’t gonna keep walkin’ that line

Kicked to the curb
I got demons in me you don’t wanna disturb
Can’t package me and sell me with a blurb
Kicked to the curb

You say sucka
But I don’t drive no trucka
Mucho dinero
Lookin’ for your next payday, oh?
Pasito, pasito
But I’m no Joker, Jared Leto
Let go, let go
Mamasita, papacito

Kicked to the curb
I got demons in me you don’t wanna disturb
Can’t package me and sell me with a blurb
Kicked to the curb

I’m surreal
Touch and feel
I’ll take you to the next level
But I ain’t no devil
Bevel, these edges
Like a boy scout I took my pledges
I don’t got no grudges
Only love for the judges
And now the time has come
You don’t know where I’m from
Help me Lord!
You keep spittin’ lyrics like you bored
I got my lyrics in the pantry, stored
‘Cause winter’s a’comin’ and I horde

You can’t sell me
You only repel me

Full title: "Shirley Brice Heath’s Ways with Words: Language, life, and work in communities and classrooms – Part 4"

For the full script of the video - http://compositionawebb.pbworks.com/w/file/fetch/129886170/wayswithwords4.pdf

For the blog posting on minds.com - https://www.minds.com/adamwebb/blog/shirley-brice-heath-s-ways-with-words-language-life-and-work-904439595069272064

On Google Books - https://books.google.com/books?id=ZvwEDOhLbpEC&printsec=frontcover#v=onepage&q&f=false

For Part 1 (original video) - https://youtu.be/aAkTcuEOGLo

For Part 1 (better video quality) - https://youtu.be/SMTlTqV1Kak

For Part 2 - https://youtu.be/jNIL-0IFhog

For Part 3 - https://youtu.be/jJlTbemskEQ

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