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Here on Ning

I am not that person,
that I seem to be,
it's just the words that come through me.

Permalink Reply by Robert McCarthy on July 11, 2009 at 4:23am: Ode to Ning.

It’s just a beginning, early morning,
full moon waning,
dew drops glistening,
running, joining, somehow a warning
beyond explaining.

Fancy free clowning, short on meaning,
lack of gaining,
considered sickening,
groaning, moaning, leftist leaning
simply complaining.

Flash of lightning, instant examining,
reality reigning,
pulse quickening,
cleaning, greening, so sweetening
this ode, blame ning.; ▶ Reply to This

Permalink Reply by richard meyers on November 5, 2009 at 10:06pm: Nor me I aint him neither
Though I scratch in dust like a hen
He's gone altogether beyond
Which of us is he...
and beneath which bodhi tree does
He sit on ning wearing bling?; ▶ Reply to This