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Some pursemouth put it on the grapevine
that we should take off our dancing shoes
as soon as a party winds down. Just shed
the fly duds and kicks, box the bling, and go
back to being Jane Plain or Joe Bloke.
Bite that the coach-and-four’s a squash,
footmen house mice with serious attitudes,
and the prince or princess, a toad. Bummer,
right? Trouble is, trying to hang onto happy
is like trying to keep a soap bubble.
It is pretty. It is shiny. Colors shimmer. . .
and it is going to burst. The bigger and shinier
it is, and the more the colors mesmerize, quicker
it happens. Poof! Wet spot, if any, dries
just like that. Mind holds on, but the bubble
shrinks and the shine wears off. You
are like a child who finally got a begged-for toy,
and it turned out not to be half as much fun
as it looked like it was when those kids on
television were playing with it. Someone lied!
So. Tug on the disgusting jeans and tee and watch
Casablanca the umpteenth time, or go walkabout,
or pay the damn bills, and get it over. Don’t wash
some socks, noses will be pinched.
Probably be more parties. Probably be fun.
Always be chances to help people -- maybe
add sparkle to someone’s eyes -- and the pleasure
from that will last much longer than a bubble.
Gonna need the glow. As Shakespeare’s witches
chant in Macbeth, Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn, and caldron bubble. (Ring any gongs?)
In The Music Man, feather-hatted busybodies babble-
squawk that trouble is afoot, and it is Trouble with a capital
T. Only good news, they are wrong about the source.
We spend most of our time biting down on pitts,
not gorging on cherries. Gotta remember to pause
for a cuppa or to thrill at the velvet on a petal or a baby’s
star-like hand, or smile and share a sweet or three. Help
see others’ cups and bowls get filled! Then maybe
we will stop believing bubbles are capable of
turning into fixtur--. . .shhhhhh. Did I hear
someone say they saw a rainbow?
Catch you later!
(c) Phyllis Jean Green
October, 2011
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| Reviewed by Jon Willey |
11/10/2011 |
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| Pea, perception too often wears a jaded eye in youth, and again with advancing age -- bubbles will come and bubbles will break -- if we just continue to look for them, attempt to keep creating them, we are not lost and our reactions to them bursting will be of minimal impact -- the political spin here is in touch with the events of today -- intentional or coincidental -- I bid you joy, love and peace my dear friend -- Jon Michael |
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| Reviewed by D. Vaineo |
11/5/2011 |
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Phyllis, Definitely more pleasureable then a bubble.
You give us inspiration and more.
Always,
Deborah |
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| Reviewed by Patrick Granfors |
11/3/2011 |
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| Life goes on and I'm a party pooper anyway. By the way I LIKE to gnaw on cherry pits. Patrick |
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| Reviewed by Tinka Boukes |
10/30/2011 |
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Love it!!
"Then maybe
we will stop believing bubbles are capable of
turning into fixtur--. . .shhhhhh. Did I hear
someone say they saw a rainbow?
Love Tinka |
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| Reviewed by Rose Rideout |
10/30/2011 |
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Beautiful writing Phyllis.
Newfie Hugs, Rose |
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| Reviewed by Connie Faust |
10/29/2011 |
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Love it, Pea! And amidst the array of your mischievous word-play is some rock-solid advice!
Connie |
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| Reviewed by Joyce Bell |
10/29/2011 |
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| GROWING UP...IS HARD TO DO! GREAT WORK, PHYLLIS...I LOVE IT. THANKS FOR SHARING. LOVE, BLESSINGS AND FAITH...JOYCE * HIS INSPIRATIONS |
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| Reviewed by Felix Perry |
10/29/2011 |
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Yes so many hills, obstacles, road bumps but yet there, yes there....along the roadside a rose grows and does it smell any less sweet for being there...no.
fee |
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| Reviewed by Ronald Hull |
10/29/2011 |
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You possess a childlike magic that questions everything but not too hard. The soap bubble is a magical thing, but it lasts about as long as the child's last thought. Fortunately, we get that way again in old age. Unable to hold the thought until it dribbles out in a poem.
Ron |
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| Reviewed by Roger Wayne Eberle |
10/29/2011 |
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yeah! Phyllis. you put a whole new spin on the Macbeth witch chant for me!... and overall, a strong showing here. I like the conversational style you bring to this much-more-than-topical topic... and love the ending! This poem puts me somewhere over the... well, you know...
Lots of love,
Roger |
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