Don Yarber Don Yarber
Recommendations: 42

Should that be "baited" breath?

Allen Clarke Allen Clarke
Recommendations: 18

As far as I know, Don,I have read the term,(i.E)``...he waited with bated breath in anticipation..``more than a time or two. I believe the term is meant to express eager anticipation. Of course, feel free to correct me, if I`m wrong.

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Allen Clarke Allen Clarke
Recommendations: 18

A Tale Weaved with Sharply Protracted Intention


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Consider this a work in progress. I`ll be back, again, and again and again...


``Come hither,`` said the withered Writer
as he stretched forth a wizened hand
beckoning each twitching ear
that may be a-tremble to hear
something new and certainly
Something fresh
as hot and piping as a steamy, moist
loaf fresh from the baker`s oven


He left his place of deep
thought for a moment only to leave
the enchanted reader
with bated breath
``TO BE CONTINUED.``
read the writing on his wall. 2 comments


A-tapping on the blank sheet
he knew, at long last, that
a dry spell lay before him
was it possible for the Muse
to go on holiday?
after all, it was summer
and thoughts do have an awful
habit of going
suddenly a.w.o.l.


the hollow echo of yester-years`teacher
plagued him terribly
``flow with the stream!``
IDIOT! comes the dark sarcasm
surely, a Hemmingway
thou shalt never be!


he struck gem of thought
with the presumptuous notion
of going original
of, course he knew
that nothing grew new
under his Tuscany sun


the anguished, languished
at keyboard bare
growing increasingly ware
that genius
is often mistook
for a cook
that labours
without spice
like China minus rice!


my prose is a rose
that reeks and blows hot air
night of mare
blunts feverish prayer
for light to shine forth!
``To Be Continued,`` clackety clacks
my blankety black train
in misty Georgian rain
to down-town Nowhere Rail


I told you I`d continue
Didn`t I? I have not yet begun
to begin to write Volume One!
the hum-drum of
my busy little brain
rages against the mediocre
to dream-weave
is to believe
that there are no mounts
impassible
to get to your dream
to get to Carnegie Hall
you gotts ta have some BALL!
I`ll be Bach, to bust, yet another string.


Prolific is my name
baseball ain`t my game
I hate sports
not because I`m gay
but, simply because They
didna`allow me play
my peers we`re queers
in my little book
in which I`d record
every crime against MY HUMANITY!


I was demoted
and voted least likely
to be liked in my home town
the place which my race
met with ignonimous scorn
don`t think me to whine
of my unprecious spilled wine
because They thought every
brown boy didn`t fit
with the rest
of the blest.


The preposterous theme
came a-knocking on my dream
springing up out of beggar`s mat
my hands flung their wild way
to where I sat
til break of day
the previous Night


I tried to capture
the rapture
I endevoured to tell my reader
of sweeter days
when the land of honey
was not so far away
from these now wizened hands
of Mine
Play on fiddle, deeply
when passion wells up
once more
upon my lash of scorn


Will Lady Luck
ever smile my way?
will she ever wink
or only to sashay
part way?
by the Bay
that Otis sang
of a better Day


Again, I awake out of
slumbers deep
the ideas already seeping
into the grey matter
`Must have coffee...jolt
of caffeine, my body
I cannot deny``
Oh, why must Life
be so dramatic
and why must it be
so mundane, at times?


If smoke, I did
then smoke I would
but I find it disgusts me
the craving alone
seems such an unnecessary
thing, best left
at the will and whim
of cold turkey chill
I was not born
with chimney on my head


My neighbour above me rattles his pipes
shuffling about after an evening
of debauched guzzling
what a waste of time and money!
now, comes the tremble of body
now comes the quiver of soul
the head detached from reason


Did you know the cockroach
can live for two weeks
without its head
before it dies?
interesting piece of entomology
don`t you think?
Ah, now, I`m getting bored
now, I`m getting morbid
there is always something
or someone to write about
you know, To Be Continued
is my name
and so, I shall
write you again
shan`t I??


And, now, I will
at last...begin
`This,this..must be some kind
of preposterous joke!``You
say, in plain pidgin English
not, really, because you see
this Tale was not meant
to steal your precious
precocious time
It was meant to make you THINK!
excercise the old, grey matter
``Oh, but that doesn`t matter!``
YOU say!


Alrighty, then, I well suppose that
your precious X-Box games
are much better than my expertly
concieved Rant?
Can`t
is not at all in my vocab!
Come hither
and I shall yet begin
the beginning
of a WORK
of such
FANTASMAGORICAL
exemplitude


There you go again, I`ve lost your
subtly , and decievably
feigned interest
your memory bank tells me that
you are N.S.F!
Mr. PIe in the SKy
have you got your eye
on my fry?
tune in next week
as I further weave my Web
on the web.


I seem to have wandered off
of the path of my original intention
I believe my plan was to give ye
a tale of rather
lengthy, stretched out
proportion, sprinkled with wit
and irresistable charm
but, alas, I may have plunged
off of the Deep End
Sadly, enough, I did not
even attain to Chapter One
Oh, well, a bottomless well
you may have narrowly escaped
being plunged into


I fear I may be losing you and my marbles
all in one fell swoop!
Better quit while I`m ahead, I suppose
For you see you were just the willing
subject of my experiment
as to whether
I could sustain your interest
for any length of time
as lunatic as my ramblings might seem.
see what I mean
You stuck with me to
THE VERY END
GOODBYE!


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