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Linda Ellis' Newsletter


02/22/11
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www.lindaellis.net
Hello,

 

Thank you for being a part of my mailing list!  I love sharing my new stories and poems with all of you and I enjoy receiving your thoughts and feedback.  I do hope you enjoy my latest inspiration!   Linda Ellis
New Story 

 

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"It Is What It Is" 

 

Excerpt:

 

Analyze - a philosophical method of exhibiting complex concepts or propositions as compounds or functions of more basic ones. Huh?  Even the definition of the word analyze is too analytical.

 

I agree with the necessity of analyzing that which prevents us from attaining world peace or the reasons behind an airplane crash, but the word analyze doesn't belong in our every day vernacular.  More often than not, analytical views on the simplest of matters are what make the proverbial mountains, out of molehills.  Sometimes, it just is what it is.

  
 ~Linda Ellis

   

 

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Linda Ellis
Linda's Lyrics
1050 E. Piedmont Road
Suite E-135
Marietta, GA  30062
Phone:  (404) 966-3349
FAX:     (770) 973-9350
Email:  liveyourdash@bellsouth.net
Website:  www.lindaellis.net
 
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Linda's Lyrics | 1050 E. Piedmont Road | Suite E-135 | Marietta | GA | 30062

[Poem of the week] THE WIND CHIME



THE WIND CHIME



for Fiona Baigrie


There was never any door to it, except by chance
some noon. You look up, glance into a kitchen yard:
a day like any other as summer draws to its close,
but faded like the dunes, dune-hay beyond Kalk Bay,
a sea-wind strengthening all through the morning,
the car-parks along the beaches all of them empty now
but for the municipal trucks, the waste collection;
and the children already three weeks back at school.

There was no key, for you, except a yard like this,
its old cement, swept yesterday, swept again by wind,
the bougainvillaea, its leaves like flesh, leaf-shadow
ripened, black, a shadow-fruit in the noon glitter,
and almost lost within it, scarcely heard at first
against the tidal roar, so huge the weather here –
three notes, silver, tubular: the music of a wind chime
scattering in the sunlight, in one backyard above the sea.

Lost and found, and lost again, the bay behind it
stretching, faded, its blue indifference in the wind –
but this is my philosophy, my poetry, my poverty.
I can offer no more than one chance day
loosened by the weather – the moment of a wind chime
as it comes and goes, swaying in a random air,
its three notes intimate with their own oblivion,
shadowed, even as they shower, by their evanescence.

I can bring only what such things bring
on vanishing: a day, a space still more deserted
than these stalled and vacant suburbs by the sea;
a place where you, again, are granted entry,
here, where there is found what is found now:
that time itself has thickened, its shadow-fruit
this sun, this noon, a wind chime in a sea-wind,
and in your hands, your empty hands, the flesh of time.

    


© 2007, Stephen Watson



Poem of the week
Stephen Watson page:
http://southafrica.poetryinternationalweb.org/piw_cms/cms/cms_module/index.php?obj_id=19041




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Funny Poem of the Week by FunnyPoets.com

a href='http://www.funnypoets.com'>FunnyPoets.com Your funny poem of the week is:

Ringo Blues

Copyright; Graham Fredriksen
From his book 'Paradise Revisited'

He's bought himself a set of drums -
Seems that's the latest fad
For them with teenage craniums
Just to annoy their Dad.
So now it's straight into his room
When he gets home from school:
A raucous thunderous sonic boom -
Could make die dead rise from die tomb
...And those alive to fear their doom -
A racket dial is cruel;
An audio nightmare of gloom
As decibels and senses zoom,
My ears and I can now assume...
That Ringo's on his stool.

As drums resound and cymbals crash,
The airwaves saturate;
Bush poetry's a culture clash -
He says I'm out of date.
His hair is fifteen shades of blue...
He only wears what's cool...
He bangs away the evening through...
He says I wouldn't have a clue...
But oh!! that noise!! I'm tellin' you...
When Ringo's on his stool!!

With peace and quiet vanished now
From in our neighborhood,
I get no more milk from the cow,
The dog's left home for good,
The chooks have all stopped layin' eggs,
The goldfish left his pool,
The cat has even found his legs,
My home-made beer has turned to dregs.
Is that a tune ? - the question begs...
When Ringo's on his stool.

The ducks from on the billabong
Have all flown south for Spring;
No more we hear the magpie's song -
He's lost his urge to sing.
T.V.'s a relic of the past -
Those drums win every duel;
Not even ghetto-blasters blast
As loud or even half as fast...
While ear-drums flutter at half mast...
When Ringo's on his stool.

The Flick man has no need to call -
Our cockroaches have gone;
The termites that live in the wall -
They too are moving on.
It could well drive a man to drink...
But who am I to fool ?
I have already crossed that brink -
I cannot hear myself to think -
And oh...this week, his hair is pink...
That's Ringo on his stool.

So I thought I would be the bird
And grow myself some wings,
Until today...! got the word
That somehow changes things.
The music shop is on the phone:
This afternoon it comes -
An instrument that's all my own -
He need no longer play alone -
We'll form a band that's all home-grown
I'm flexing up my gums;
Though I'm tone-deaf as any stone,
I'll join the raucous monotone -
Me playing my new saxophone...
While Ringo...plays his drums.

Copyright; Graham Fredriksen


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Easy Patterns for Learning to Sew

eHow.com - How To Do Just About Everything
eHow Of The Day

Easy Patterns for Learning to Sew

by Karen Ellis

You can make easy patterns for learning to sew from newspaper. This is an excellent way to learn how to use patterns in the simplest possible way. After you've learned the basics of making and using easy patterns, along with other sewing skills, you will be ready to tackle commercial sewing patterns.…Keep reading

 

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