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Poetry from my Carpetbag

Poetry from my Carpetbag. Friday, May 22, 2015. The Wind: A Sound Poem. Rushing through tree tops,. And slipping through open windows;. Its passage marked by. The rustle of leaves,. The creak of shingles. And the window's Aeolian moan. Stand still and listen. Feel the wind move past you—. Not a creature of free will. Nor a disembodied spirit—. Just the displacement of air,. Not real, not romantic, not gothic—. There is no god blowing Psyche to her winged lover,. No bag of winds filling Odysseus' sails;.

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Poetry from my Carpetbag | carpetbagger12000.blogspot.com Reviews
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Poetry from my Carpetbag. Friday, May 22, 2015. The Wind: A Sound Poem. Rushing through tree tops,. And slipping through open windows;. Its passage marked by. The rustle of leaves,. The creak of shingles. And the window's Aeolian moan. Stand still and listen. Feel the wind move past you—. Not a creature of free will. Nor a disembodied spirit—. Just the displacement of air,. Not real, not romantic, not gothic—. There is no god blowing Psyche to her winged lover,. No bag of winds filling Odysseus' sails;.
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Poetry from my Carpetbag | carpetbagger12000.blogspot.com Reviews

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Poetry from my Carpetbag. Friday, May 22, 2015. The Wind: A Sound Poem. Rushing through tree tops,. And slipping through open windows;. Its passage marked by. The rustle of leaves,. The creak of shingles. And the window's Aeolian moan. Stand still and listen. Feel the wind move past you—. Not a creature of free will. Nor a disembodied spirit—. Just the displacement of air,. Not real, not romantic, not gothic—. There is no god blowing Psyche to her winged lover,. No bag of winds filling Odysseus' sails;.

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Poetry from my Carpetbag: May 2008

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Poetry from my Carpetbag. Wednesday, May 28, 2008. The dark loam pours out of the box. Onto clumps of dirt packed close. By winter’s chill and weight of snow. And ash from the wood stove:. Rich, life-giving soil from. Vegetable parings and apple cores,. Eggshells and grapefruit rinds,. Coffee grounds and tea bags;. Scrapings from dinner plates,. Tips of beans and celery leaves,. Corn cobs and avocado shells. All thrown in together. To rot, metamorphosing. In that polyvinyl cocoon. Into the black earth.

2

Poetry from my Carpetbag: August 2010

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Poetry from my Carpetbag. Tuesday, August 3, 2010. The pain of partition is no less,. A whole day may pass before the memory. Of the absent one. Rises to surface suddenly, invoked by. A change in scenery,. An overheard conversation, a shell laid. On the dresser,. And it overwhelms with its intensity,. Takes away the breath,. The keen longing produces. Which would draw the beloved. Into one’s own body. These spasms are farther spaced,. Until the next one squeezes the viscera. With its acute yearning.

3

Poetry from my Carpetbag: December 2011

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Poetry from my Carpetbag. Monday, December 26, 2011. Her cursing is the songline of canaries–. Beak open, head thrown back–. Warning predators away from eggs. Or downy chicks hidden beneath a yellow wing. The sweet warbling is a spill of notes. On the evening air. Aimed at the departing sun,. The stalking cat,. The blackbird with its beady eye and sharp bill. Waiting for the moment when the cursing stops. And it moves in for the kill. But this is no bird, though bird like,. Blue hollows for temples,.

4

Poetry from my Carpetbag: Crush

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Poetry from my Carpetbag. Tuesday, March 23, 2010. She sits beside her crush;. The secret knowledge of dreams,. Of busy hands masturbating. Where thwarted desire dwells-. Enwreaths her like a boa,. Not of flirtatious feathers,. But a reptilian hunger. In its close embrace. Until she is overwhelmed. By its steady crush. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). View my complete profile.

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Poetry from my Carpetbag: March 2010

http://www.carpetbagger12000.blogspot.com/2010_03_01_archive.html

Poetry from my Carpetbag. Tuesday, March 23, 2010. She sits beside her crush;. The secret knowledge of dreams,. Of busy hands masturbating. Where thwarted desire dwells-. Enwreaths her like a boa,. Not of flirtatious feathers,. But a reptilian hunger. In its close embrace. Until she is overwhelmed. By its steady crush. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom). View my complete profile.

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Cassandra’s Tears: October 2004

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Tears of joy, tears of pain, we are reflected in the salt-water pools we create. So let us build a fleet of paper boats and sail them on our ocean of indecision, laughing at the wind-whipped white-crested waves that would wash over us, drowning us in our own despair, yet somehow never vanquishing us in the end. Lennoxville, Quebec, Canada. View my complete profile. In the darkness of night, all birds are blackbirds. Good dog, Chester. Good dog. Off the Hook Astronomy. The Art of Ron Gang. For mine eyes h...

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Cassandra’s Tears: June 2004

http://cassandrastears.blogspot.com/2004_06_01_archive.html

Tears of joy, tears of pain, we are reflected in the salt-water pools we create. So let us build a fleet of paper boats and sail them on our ocean of indecision, laughing at the wind-whipped white-crested waves that would wash over us, drowning us in our own despair, yet somehow never vanquishing us in the end. Lennoxville, Quebec, Canada. View my complete profile. In the darkness of night, all birds are blackbirds. Good dog, Chester. Good dog. Off the Hook Astronomy. The Art of Ron Gang. And put it in a...

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Cassandra’s Tears: Pay it Forward

http://cassandrastears.blogspot.com/2011/04/pay-it-forward.html

Tears of joy, tears of pain, we are reflected in the salt-water pools we create. So let us build a fleet of paper boats and sail them on our ocean of indecision, laughing at the wind-whipped white-crested waves that would wash over us, drowning us in our own despair, yet somehow never vanquishing us in the end. Lennoxville, Quebec, Canada. View my complete profile. In the darkness of night, all birds are blackbirds. Good dog, Chester. Good dog. Not a Love Story. Ten am smoking break. The Art of Ron Gang.

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Cassandra’s Tears: Dinner is served

http://cassandrastears.blogspot.com/2010/08/dinner-is-served.html

Tears of joy, tears of pain, we are reflected in the salt-water pools we create. So let us build a fleet of paper boats and sail them on our ocean of indecision, laughing at the wind-whipped white-crested waves that would wash over us, drowning us in our own despair, yet somehow never vanquishing us in the end. Lennoxville, Quebec, Canada. View my complete profile. Good dog, Chester. Good dog. Not a Love Story. Ten am smoking break. The Sybil of Cumae. Off the Hook Astronomy. The Art of Ron Gang. Alice r...

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Cassandra’s Tears: March 2005

http://cassandrastears.blogspot.com/2005_03_01_archive.html

Tears of joy, tears of pain, we are reflected in the salt-water pools we create. So let us build a fleet of paper boats and sail them on our ocean of indecision, laughing at the wind-whipped white-crested waves that would wash over us, drowning us in our own despair, yet somehow never vanquishing us in the end. Lennoxville, Quebec, Canada. View my complete profile. In the darkness of night, all birds are blackbirds. Good dog, Chester. Good dog. Off the Hook Astronomy. The Art of Ron Gang. In the mud,.

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Cassandra’s Tears: Lost

http://cassandrastears.blogspot.com/2010/12/lost.html

Tears of joy, tears of pain, we are reflected in the salt-water pools we create. So let us build a fleet of paper boats and sail them on our ocean of indecision, laughing at the wind-whipped white-crested waves that would wash over us, drowning us in our own despair, yet somehow never vanquishing us in the end. Lennoxville, Quebec, Canada. View my complete profile. In the darkness of night, all birds are blackbirds. Good dog, Chester. Good dog. Not a Love Story. Ten am smoking break. The Art of Ron Gang.

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Cassandra’s Tears: Good dog, Chester. Good dog.

http://cassandrastears.blogspot.com/2010/03/good-dog-chester-good-dog.html

Tears of joy, tears of pain, we are reflected in the salt-water pools we create. So let us build a fleet of paper boats and sail them on our ocean of indecision, laughing at the wind-whipped white-crested waves that would wash over us, drowning us in our own despair, yet somehow never vanquishing us in the end. Lennoxville, Quebec, Canada. View my complete profile. Not a Love Story. Ten am smoking break. The Sybil of Cumae. Don’t Sit Under the Chestnut Tree. Call me the wind. Off the Hook Astronomy.

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Cassandra’s Tears: Burnt Offerings

http://cassandrastears.blogspot.com/2010/07/burnt-offerings.html

Tears of joy, tears of pain, we are reflected in the salt-water pools we create. So let us build a fleet of paper boats and sail them on our ocean of indecision, laughing at the wind-whipped white-crested waves that would wash over us, drowning us in our own despair, yet somehow never vanquishing us in the end. Lennoxville, Quebec, Canada. View my complete profile. Good dog, Chester. Good dog. Not a Love Story. Ten am smoking break. The Sybil of Cumae. Don’t Sit Under the Chestnut Tree.

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Cassandra’s Tears: The Vessel

http://cassandrastears.blogspot.com/2011/11/vessel.html

Tears of joy, tears of pain, we are reflected in the salt-water pools we create. So let us build a fleet of paper boats and sail them on our ocean of indecision, laughing at the wind-whipped white-crested waves that would wash over us, drowning us in our own despair, yet somehow never vanquishing us in the end. Lennoxville, Quebec, Canada. View my complete profile. In the darkness of night, all birds are blackbirds. Good dog, Chester. Good dog. Not a Love Story. Off the Hook Astronomy. The Art of Ron Gang.

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Cassandra’s Tears: Sehnsucht

http://cassandrastears.blogspot.com/2010/08/sehnsucht.html

Tears of joy, tears of pain, we are reflected in the salt-water pools we create. So let us build a fleet of paper boats and sail them on our ocean of indecision, laughing at the wind-whipped white-crested waves that would wash over us, drowning us in our own despair, yet somehow never vanquishing us in the end. Lennoxville, Quebec, Canada. View my complete profile. Good dog, Chester. Good dog. Not a Love Story. Ten am smoking break. The Sybil of Cumae. Don’t Sit Under the Chestnut Tree. Alice described t...

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carpetbagger in a sentence | simple examples

In A Sentence .org. The best little site that helps you understand word usage with examples. Carpetbagger in a sentence. I think its time to dust off the word. These are not unlike the. And traveling salesmen of the wild west days. Come later and try to convince you that their money hoarding (off another persons idea) is good for you. The tragedy of SMS is that governments, regulators and consumer advocates let these miserable telecommunications. Use cooperage in a sentence. Use diverting in a sentence.

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12 acres in the Southern Tier of NY overlooking I86 and the City of Hornell. Building lots with outstanding rolling hills view. Excellent potential for secluded hunting cabins. 1978' AMSL can support all towers. With power on site. FCC, FAA and Environmental Impact statements in place. For more information or to schedule an appointment call or email:. Http:/ www.carpetbagger.us/. Last edit: 4/28/2013 7:23:27 PM.

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Poetry from my Carpetbag

Poetry from my Carpetbag. Friday, May 22, 2015. The Wind: A Sound Poem. Rushing through tree tops,. And slipping through open windows;. Its passage marked by. The rustle of leaves,. The creak of shingles. And the window's Aeolian moan. Stand still and listen. Feel the wind move past you—. Not a creature of free will. Nor a disembodied spirit—. Just the displacement of air,. Not real, not romantic, not gothic—. There is no god blowing Psyche to her winged lover,. No bag of winds filling Odysseus' sails;.

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Carpetbagger Blog

Tuesday, December 18, 2007. 5th Day of Christmas. On the 5th day of Christmas Pete Olson gave to me:. No name I.D.,. Three months in Fort Bend,. More homophobia we're tired of. And bags full of D.C. money! Labels: 5th Day of Christmas. Monday, December 17, 2007. 4th Day of Christmas. My apologies to all of Santa's little helpers who missed me yesterday. On the 4th day of Christmas Pete Olson gave to me:. Three months in Fort Bend,. More homophobia we're tired of. And bags full of D.C. money! I think the ...

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Carpetbagger Fishing Charters

Port of Conneaut, OH. Thank you for choosing, Carpetbagger Fishing Charters. Here at Carpetbagger Fishing Charters we are committed to provide you with a safe and enjoyable day fishing Lake Erie for trophy sized Walleye, Yellow Perch, and Steelhead Trout. Feel free to navigate the site. If you have any questions or comments feel free to contact me directly by clicking on the " Contact Us. Page giving me a call or shooting me out a quick email, I'd be happy to answer any questions you may have.

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Carpetbagger Couture

Sunday, December 8, 2013. What we each choose to remember about a person after they are gone depends largely on our own attitude. Are we a glass half empty person, or half full person? I thought about all the good things she did, and the good lessons she taught me. Death and grief are funny things, great clarity comes from great sadness. This is how I want to remember her. Links to this post. Monday, September 9, 2013. Thrift Store Art Makeovers. As you can see I paid a fortune for this! Haha The backing...

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Getting to know you...

Getting to know you. Featuring handmade and vintage items. Friday, April 21, 2017. Garden themed crochet round rag rug. Shabby, cottage chic, green, pink, multi, eco, 29". Pretty eco friendly crochet round rag rug. Fresh colors of peachy pink, green, multi. Cottage / shabby chic. Hand crocheted with clean, upcycled fabric - cotton and cotton blends. To learn more about this rug, click here:. Visit my shop at:. Tuesday, April 11, 2017. Crocheted by hand with clean, upcycled fabric. Sunday, April 9, 2017.