The Miser and the Middlecat by Barbara Ellen Meyer-Spidell circa 1993
for my children....
The Miser and the Middlecat, The Middlecat of three
The Miser told the Midlecat and he told me
The Valley is rising as the sun sinks low
The ground does rise, but oh so slow
So I climbed upon my wooden horse
with the knowledge so brief
and I galloped off to see the Indian Chief of the Chief
The Chief said 'How' in reference to what I'd said
I had to admit then and there to what I'd been fed
So I gallopped back to the place where I'd my start,
to find the Middlecat lying there with a broken heart
He said the miser'd been his friend only when he'd his way
but then he'd questioned the words the miser had to say
Now he's lost his only friend and had nothing left
He was dying of a broken heart
but had one request:
Find my other Brothers and tell them what has come;
tell them to learn from my mistakes and what I'd done.
So I began my journey to find Zululand
A place where the cat had lived when ALL this had began
To make this story short:
The Middlecat hadn't died
He'd fed me another story- just another lie
There is no Zululand, it's a place long past
There is no sinking valley, only rising grass
There is no Miser or a Middlecat of three
There is only the Indian Chief, Wooden horse and Me.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Sunday, September 14, 2008
My Love
I wrote this utterly in love with a man who was never mine.....
...the poem is weak but the love was strong, I could write the most gallant of all poems and it would never do him justice....I was maybe 24 at the time of writing this and going through a divorce...
you are the one who I love
i am spellbound by your way
if only I could have one wish come true
i would ask to have you for only one day
on that day i would tell you how i trult felt
explain the complications of my life to you
i would passionately listen to your response
and then ask for you to be with me for one more day
the one i truly love is you
if only i knew that you loved me too
i might be able to let you go
but you are leaving and i have not told you and you are going far far away...
...the poem is weak but the love was strong, I could write the most gallant of all poems and it would never do him justice....I was maybe 24 at the time of writing this and going through a divorce...
you are the one who I love
i am spellbound by your way
if only I could have one wish come true
i would ask to have you for only one day
on that day i would tell you how i trult felt
explain the complications of my life to you
i would passionately listen to your response
and then ask for you to be with me for one more day
the one i truly love is you
if only i knew that you loved me too
i might be able to let you go
but you are leaving and i have not told you and you are going far far away...
On Mortimer Grimm
On Mortimer Grimm by Barbara Meyer-Spidell circa 1992
(a semi-complete story)
Mortimer Grimm, whose lips were thin, and pur-sed and cur- sed and twisted, sat on his stool, pretending to drool and began a story, most often rehearsed.
Today he was a pirate on the shores off east with a bird named Madrid whom he cared for not in the least.
With a leer, a jeer and a beer, he promised to eat that enslaved bird, he had been saving for a feast.
Festooned in bright rainbowy colours so gay , poor bird Madrid, did not see things quite the same way....and so he began his plot to escape the very next day.
For Mortimer Grimm, whose lips were clearly quite thin, surely would do the wicked deed, at least one day, and although the threats seemed harmless, AT FIRST, and the jest of it all had grown old LAST MAY!
For twleve years hence, to the day, he had heard it all before, and was beginning to bore and knew there was more to life....and knew ...and knew...and wanted MORE!
For now the time had come to worry, for before he was to be cooked with a peach curry, he would make time to scurry....and thus this plot begins to thicken and I will tell it to you quickly so that your heart does not quicken...
...with a speed of light, Madrid catapulted his cage into a tray which toppled to the floor from the mantle. Then with a quick push fell the plant to the left and When Mortimer Grimm whose lips really really were quite thin, approached, Madrid grabbed him squarely with his beak, and anxiously flapped in morse code that Mortimer Grimm better open the cage and alas he did and with a flee and a plea Madrid flew out the door, back to the shore where this had all begun and went home to find his Mum. Which he did!
(a semi-complete story)
Mortimer Grimm, whose lips were thin, and pur-sed and cur- sed and twisted, sat on his stool, pretending to drool and began a story, most often rehearsed.
Today he was a pirate on the shores off east with a bird named Madrid whom he cared for not in the least.
With a leer, a jeer and a beer, he promised to eat that enslaved bird, he had been saving for a feast.
Festooned in bright rainbowy colours so gay , poor bird Madrid, did not see things quite the same way....and so he began his plot to escape the very next day.
For Mortimer Grimm, whose lips were clearly quite thin, surely would do the wicked deed, at least one day, and although the threats seemed harmless, AT FIRST, and the jest of it all had grown old LAST MAY!
For twleve years hence, to the day, he had heard it all before, and was beginning to bore and knew there was more to life....and knew ...and knew...and wanted MORE!
For now the time had come to worry, for before he was to be cooked with a peach curry, he would make time to scurry....and thus this plot begins to thicken and I will tell it to you quickly so that your heart does not quicken...
...with a speed of light, Madrid catapulted his cage into a tray which toppled to the floor from the mantle. Then with a quick push fell the plant to the left and When Mortimer Grimm whose lips really really were quite thin, approached, Madrid grabbed him squarely with his beak, and anxiously flapped in morse code that Mortimer Grimm better open the cage and alas he did and with a flee and a plea Madrid flew out the door, back to the shore where this had all begun and went home to find his Mum. Which he did!
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Where NORM went by Barbara Ellen Meyer-Spidell 1994
...we shall revisit this one as I just relocated the original- the other rendidtion found on another page here- was a replication of this one...
Where NORM went by Barbara Ellen Meyer-Spidell 1994
...where Norm went.
Where did he go?
I saw him vanish curiously so
It was as if he escaped out the back way
I thought he'd certainly reappear the very next day
In as streetwise as he'd gone out
I knew he'd know my side if only I'd shout
so I shouted 'til my chords coarse, (in defense with dramatic suspense)
and then I shouted 'til my voice hoarse
"Norm always conceded to that; he'd drop his head and take off his hat."
He would try and stick around in the merry facade, and then ruthlessly leave once more.
The next time he slammed the door.
Where was the 'Big Norm'?, I would jest.
I no longer cared to say, for he stopped returning the very same day.
The norm that I longed for was completely gone.
His leaving inspired somewhat of a blues song:
'There is no merry facade
Brick by Brick. Even. Odd."
My inward Magician built a topple ready wall
Posing fiercely yet ready to fall.
Each leaving crueller than the last
Until I couldn't remember a less violent past.
Where was the norm.
This time it slammed the door.
Whore.
What Norm ever was, I had forgotten.
Who does this Norm cat think he is anyways?
I'd growl as if to say, 'I've my own Bluessong anyways, and you can't touch.
Oh that time, it didn't hurt too much.
My wall?
I had added support; I built it higher, stronger, and with ricochet report.
I'd cower on the other side, subconciously, one might say; nonethless, I
silently plead, 'Norm you can't treat me this way.'
Softly and seriously I spoke.
Each leaving in the past less cruel than the last.
I, the mockery
I, the outcast.
When norm left one day, the pinnacle of furious hateful play,
I could at last recall completely how it all began.... a slammed door...
as I picked my bruisd body off the floor.
....still recalling the Norm that went away,
I arose and walked out the front way,
and emerged to find simply a glorious day.
Where NORM went by Barbara Ellen Meyer-Spidell 1994
...where Norm went.
Where did he go?
I saw him vanish curiously so
It was as if he escaped out the back way
I thought he'd certainly reappear the very next day
In as streetwise as he'd gone out
I knew he'd know my side if only I'd shout
so I shouted 'til my chords coarse, (in defense with dramatic suspense)
and then I shouted 'til my voice hoarse
"Norm always conceded to that; he'd drop his head and take off his hat."
He would try and stick around in the merry facade, and then ruthlessly leave once more.
The next time he slammed the door.
Where was the 'Big Norm'?, I would jest.
I no longer cared to say, for he stopped returning the very same day.
The norm that I longed for was completely gone.
His leaving inspired somewhat of a blues song:
'There is no merry facade
Brick by Brick. Even. Odd."
My inward Magician built a topple ready wall
Posing fiercely yet ready to fall.
Each leaving crueller than the last
Until I couldn't remember a less violent past.
Where was the norm.
This time it slammed the door.
Whore.
What Norm ever was, I had forgotten.
Who does this Norm cat think he is anyways?
I'd growl as if to say, 'I've my own Bluessong anyways, and you can't touch.
Oh that time, it didn't hurt too much.
My wall?
I had added support; I built it higher, stronger, and with ricochet report.
I'd cower on the other side, subconciously, one might say; nonethless, I
silently plead, 'Norm you can't treat me this way.'
Softly and seriously I spoke.
Each leaving in the past less cruel than the last.
I, the mockery
I, the outcast.
When norm left one day, the pinnacle of furious hateful play,
I could at last recall completely how it all began.... a slammed door...
as I picked my bruisd body off the floor.
....still recalling the Norm that went away,
I arose and walked out the front way,
and emerged to find simply a glorious day.
The Thieves of Diamonds by Barbara Meyer-Spidell
The Thieves of Diamonds by Barbara Meyer-Spidell circa 1993
The Thieves of Diamonds
Long Black Glove -ed hands
Open the Palm -ed
There a Lily Stands
The Flower perched and waiting for the moment of just
the taker of the flower taketh he must
The thieve of Diamonds- not a thieve at all
the loved lily forsaketh
the loved lily forsaketh
the loved lily forsaketh them all
tenfold the bastard as I the bitch
tenfold the income and your the witch
tenfold the beauty and lover demise
tenfold love tossed and lost
tenfold love lost
tenfold love tossed and you're still lost in your lover's eyes
tenfold the dragon that comes out at night
tenlovered worth and hope is your might
you wish oftenmayed
you wish oftenmight
you wish you had your true love -ed delight
tenfold love tossed out your window- still lost
ten pence you're still lost in those sweet dragon-tempered, ten lovered worth
tenfold incomed and he's still the bastard, lost in your lover's eyes---------.
The Thieves of Diamonds
Long Black Glove -ed hands
Open the Palm -ed
There a Lily Stands
The Flower perched and waiting for the moment of just
the taker of the flower taketh he must
The thieve of Diamonds- not a thieve at all
the loved lily forsaketh
the loved lily forsaketh
the loved lily forsaketh them all
tenfold the bastard as I the bitch
tenfold the income and your the witch
tenfold the beauty and lover demise
tenfold love tossed and lost
tenfold love lost
tenfold love tossed and you're still lost in your lover's eyes
tenfold the dragon that comes out at night
tenlovered worth and hope is your might
you wish oftenmayed
you wish oftenmight
you wish you had your true love -ed delight
tenfold love tossed out your window- still lost
ten pence you're still lost in those sweet dragon-tempered, ten lovered worth
tenfold incomed and he's still the bastard, lost in your lover's eyes---------.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Poorness by Barbara E. Meyer (Meyer-Spidell) circa 1993 in Benicia, CA
Poorness
by Barbara Ellen Meyer (Meyer-Spidell) circa 1992
an amber orange sky, summer, with a cynic standing on a street corner, his wallet full as his stomach with the day's beer, headed on home, to get ready for his night out with the boys
a crankster with too much make-up hiding her speed bumps, pushing a stroller to find her man or anyone to talk to, no one listens but her children and they got shit for brains anyhow
a black man, too young to be a Father, still hangin with the neighborhood teens, old enough to get busted but young enough not to care, he ain't got no family anyhow, anywhere
Big Daddy Jock, whose woman spends too much time at church and working, all he wants is to play basketball, teach his boys, and feel the woman next door, who lets him in and he sweet talks her while she says no, but he's down on his knees doing what he please and she's scared
single stupid Mom too lonely to understand people can hurt you, and who said 'Baby, it's a wild world', wasn't joking because the neighborhood rolls on and he pulls her to the carpet all because she's friendly and lies on top of her.
by Barbara Ellen Meyer (Meyer-Spidell) circa 1992
an amber orange sky, summer, with a cynic standing on a street corner, his wallet full as his stomach with the day's beer, headed on home, to get ready for his night out with the boys
a crankster with too much make-up hiding her speed bumps, pushing a stroller to find her man or anyone to talk to, no one listens but her children and they got shit for brains anyhow
a black man, too young to be a Father, still hangin with the neighborhood teens, old enough to get busted but young enough not to care, he ain't got no family anyhow, anywhere
Big Daddy Jock, whose woman spends too much time at church and working, all he wants is to play basketball, teach his boys, and feel the woman next door, who lets him in and he sweet talks her while she says no, but he's down on his knees doing what he please and she's scared
single stupid Mom too lonely to understand people can hurt you, and who said 'Baby, it's a wild world', wasn't joking because the neighborhood rolls on and he pulls her to the carpet all because she's friendly and lies on top of her.
Chilly Pepper Children by Barbara Ellen Meyer-Spidell circa 1994
Chilly Pepper children playing in the dark soil, preparing for Mother's planting of the season, their brother and sisterly love not at work, but the rivalry subsides for the time being, while they bid their Mother's pleasure, and she graces them with a smile.
Chilly pepper children are like their Father, their Mother is reminded weekly by their hostilities sometimes, and daily, by their joys and sorrows.
Chilly Pepper children created out of the heat's passion, flavored by God's own green thumb. Who would have known their wild seasoning would be so much admired for it's unique character?
Chilly pepper boy and Chilly pepper girl. Chilly pepper children now inhabit the world; a world where all inhabitants are somewhat alike, a world where the Father leaves and another fills his shoes, to cultivate the earth in which they grow, called the chilly pepper blues....
Chilly pepper Ronnie works his day, in and out, with natural rythym to carry on where the planter failed. He hadn't a plow when he first approached the green fertile soil that had already brought harvest, but he brought the sickle to harvest that wheat, when he found chilly peppers growing beneath his feet. So he came to show another man how to raise this fruit, and then he rolled up his sleeves and tied the laces of his boot.
He started by harvesting the chilly pepper kids, and set about to find the green acre, and started it afire and brought forth the greenest of the soil, and decided to grow on the land, that was now his, an image of himself and his maker.
I was in love with Ronald Kent Meyers at the time, we got engaged in 1994 was it? I changed my mind for personal reasons.
Chilly pepper children are like their Father, their Mother is reminded weekly by their hostilities sometimes, and daily, by their joys and sorrows.
Chilly Pepper children created out of the heat's passion, flavored by God's own green thumb. Who would have known their wild seasoning would be so much admired for it's unique character?
Chilly pepper boy and Chilly pepper girl. Chilly pepper children now inhabit the world; a world where all inhabitants are somewhat alike, a world where the Father leaves and another fills his shoes, to cultivate the earth in which they grow, called the chilly pepper blues....
Chilly pepper Ronnie works his day, in and out, with natural rythym to carry on where the planter failed. He hadn't a plow when he first approached the green fertile soil that had already brought harvest, but he brought the sickle to harvest that wheat, when he found chilly peppers growing beneath his feet. So he came to show another man how to raise this fruit, and then he rolled up his sleeves and tied the laces of his boot.
He started by harvesting the chilly pepper kids, and set about to find the green acre, and started it afire and brought forth the greenest of the soil, and decided to grow on the land, that was now his, an image of himself and his maker.
I was in love with Ronald Kent Meyers at the time, we got engaged in 1994 was it? I changed my mind for personal reasons.
El Bar En Luv by Barbara Ellen Meyer (Meyer-Spidell)
El Bar En Luv
by Barbara Ellen Meyer (Meyer-Spidell circa 1993)
El Bar En Luv
El Bar En Luv
el bar enluv shifting shoeless between the sheets
choir dogs howling
the romance gone
I feel like I'm gonna die
I feel like I'm gonna die
Most everyone I know backs away
No one wants to come close to me
Come close to me
I hate you
Someone wants to kill, and I hate you, and I hate you
El Bar En Luv
El Bar En Luv
Youv'e hurt me more than I thought you could hurt me
Now I hate you
Time to move my children
It makes me sad to move my children
but I'll move my children
elbarenluv
Barren Love
I'll bar all love
and now I hate you
I want to die because you hurt my children
I can't die because you hurt my children
elbarenluv
by Barbara Ellen Meyer (Meyer-Spidell circa 1993)
El Bar En Luv
El Bar En Luv
el bar enluv shifting shoeless between the sheets
choir dogs howling
the romance gone
I feel like I'm gonna die
I feel like I'm gonna die
Most everyone I know backs away
No one wants to come close to me
Come close to me
I hate you
Someone wants to kill, and I hate you, and I hate you
El Bar En Luv
El Bar En Luv
Youv'e hurt me more than I thought you could hurt me
Now I hate you
Time to move my children
It makes me sad to move my children
but I'll move my children
elbarenluv
Barren Love
I'll bar all love
and now I hate you
I want to die because you hurt my children
I can't die because you hurt my children
elbarenluv
Rapscallion Blue by Barbara E. Meyer-Spidell
Rapscallion Blue
Where are you?
Rapscallion Green
Sights unseen
Rapscallion Willow
My head rests on the pillow- wondering if I should go homeward.
As I slam down my fists, I look at my wrists and see no scars from the past
As I lie down my head and I look to the stars, I see we are going nowhere fast
In the morning I wait for the rain and the clouds are like a week old bruise- and the willow tree reaches to the pond on it's right-and the dish ran away with the spoon.
On Tuesday, I feel like walking a way, and am certain that I will never get there.
On Churchday, it rings, and the voices all sing, and I want to know that I can stand there without falling.....
.....to my knees.....,
and the scoundrel calls and the tree falls, and the pond is all murky and grey.
And all I hear is the laughing, and the clouds are all shouting, and the choir is complete that day.
And I know the Rapscallion is the day old bruise- and the cloud you won't let heal you- but the churchebll knows, and the rapscallion goes-and your pond is on your left, and your tree grows back, and the cow jumps over the moon.
Where are you?
Rapscallion Green
Sights unseen
Rapscallion Willow
My head rests on the pillow- wondering if I should go homeward.
As I slam down my fists, I look at my wrists and see no scars from the past
As I lie down my head and I look to the stars, I see we are going nowhere fast
In the morning I wait for the rain and the clouds are like a week old bruise- and the willow tree reaches to the pond on it's right-and the dish ran away with the spoon.
On Tuesday, I feel like walking a way, and am certain that I will never get there.
On Churchday, it rings, and the voices all sing, and I want to know that I can stand there without falling.....
.....to my knees.....,
and the scoundrel calls and the tree falls, and the pond is all murky and grey.
And all I hear is the laughing, and the clouds are all shouting, and the choir is complete that day.
And I know the Rapscallion is the day old bruise- and the cloud you won't let heal you- but the churchebll knows, and the rapscallion goes-and your pond is on your left, and your tree grows back, and the cow jumps over the moon.
Neomenia Striketh
What's the news, Blueshoes?
Is it raining?
Are your feet not wet?
It's the colors of your shoes, I suspect.
Lucky Buster and Ruby Shoes.
Gaberdine Silver Stream
Neomenia Striketh
Is it raining?
Are your feet not wet?
It's the colors of your shoes, I suspect.
Lucky Buster and Ruby Shoes.
Gaberdine Silver Stream
Neomenia Striketh
The Wind Gone Wild by Barbara Meyer-Spidell
You are the wind gone wild, and you have set me down in a place I've not been before.
You are as tall as the tree that grows, not my belly, but that longs to sway in your wind gone
wild.
Catch me, catch me, I'll swing for you.
See the curve of my hip?
Don't you see? Do you see that the swing has stopped? C'mon let's play some more.
Come on. You're the wind. Your'e the wind. Your'e the wind gone wild.
Come on. Shake it loose tonight.
You're the treetop. You're not the whip on my back. You're not the yoke on my neck. You're the wind to me. I am suffocating, set me free. ...cause the wind means everything to me, and you have set me down in a place I've never been before.
Come on and shake it baby, rock me baby, and set me free cause the wind doesn't belong to me...and I want to be just like the wind, cause you've set me right down in a place I've never been before.
You're as tall as a tree. Come and Rock with me, and plant that seed.
Circa 1992, Benicia CA....um, I think I was in love at the time, with a certain somebody...who was never mine....this poem I believe was just a fantasy...oh well, you win some, you lose some.
You are as tall as the tree that grows, not my belly, but that longs to sway in your wind gone
wild.
Catch me, catch me, I'll swing for you.
See the curve of my hip?
Don't you see? Do you see that the swing has stopped? C'mon let's play some more.
Come on. You're the wind. Your'e the wind. Your'e the wind gone wild.
Come on. Shake it loose tonight.
You're the treetop. You're not the whip on my back. You're not the yoke on my neck. You're the wind to me. I am suffocating, set me free. ...cause the wind means everything to me, and you have set me down in a place I've never been before.
Come on and shake it baby, rock me baby, and set me free cause the wind doesn't belong to me...and I want to be just like the wind, cause you've set me right down in a place I've never been before.
You're as tall as a tree. Come and Rock with me, and plant that seed.
Circa 1992, Benicia CA....um, I think I was in love at the time, with a certain somebody...who was never mine....this poem I believe was just a fantasy...oh well, you win some, you lose some.
Searching for the Solace written by Barbara E. Meyer (Meyer-Spidell)
Searching for the Solace
by Barbara E. Meyer-Spidell circa 1993
(I think I was divorcing at the time, it certainly makes light of the discontentment that I was actually experiencing, doesn't it?)
I am searching for the solace that I just put down
Wherever I put it, it cannot be found
Can I buy it for a penny, can I buy it for a pound?
It's the size of a dime, rolling on the ground
I am searching for some solace man, have you some to spare?
I got to find some cuz, I am pulling at my hair.
by Barbara E. Meyer-Spidell circa 1993
(I think I was divorcing at the time, it certainly makes light of the discontentment that I was actually experiencing, doesn't it?)
I am searching for the solace that I just put down
Wherever I put it, it cannot be found
Can I buy it for a penny, can I buy it for a pound?
It's the size of a dime, rolling on the ground
I am searching for some solace man, have you some to spare?
I got to find some cuz, I am pulling at my hair.
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