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Marie J. Ross's Page
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Do you have more photos from that event? I think I lost most of them a while back.
I did'nt quite understand if you were going to do it, plus an another zine type thing. What ever you decide I know it will be good and very intresting.. You have your own view-points about issues that are troubling us now , in this world of ours a...
yeh I red it , do you mean you're not going forward with moon mist valley.
Hi Don,
I totally understand what your'e saying, this is your project and you work very hard on it. It is time consuming, and I believe you have a right to publish what ever poems you think worthy, friend or no friends. You have a talent, not only...
Profile Information
- Interests:
- Poetry, Zines, Visual Art, Performing Arts, Writing
- About Me:
- I was born in the beautiful city of San Francisco by the bay and moved to Stockton Ca. in 1942. I love to travel it is my passion. Learning about other peoples culture and language is so fascinating to me and I love watching travel videos on the internet.
I wish I could say I like to read, but that would keep me my chair too long. I love to watch movies with my sister and nephew, cook from scratch, and share poetry with other poets. Long live poetry and poets!!
- Where did you hear about us?
- From the editors of Sun Shadow Mountain, Donald Anderson and Nikki Quismondo.
Marie J. Ross's Photos
Comment Wall (19 comments)
- At 11:18am on November 19, 2008,
Donald Anderson said…
- Remember to submit your Thanksgiving Etheree to Kathy before Monday to get the calendar!
- At 12:34am on June 14, 2008,
Marie J. Ross said…
- Hi Bikedive,
I sure hope your big job does'nt take you to far from the desk and pen, we would really miss you poetry, especially the love poems yeh. Well I just finished writing one and I don't really know where it came from, only that it must of come from my inner thoughts, sort of personal
I guess its entitled.
Utterance
Utterance sharp like sound of lightings sizzle,
like thunder riding the throat of spewing fire.
She listened to him roar throwing words of
hurting discripition.
Like the gelid hand of winter, he pointed his
finger, and she froze from the harsh blink of
his eyes.
In heat of summers day he immesrsed her in
the muggy water of worthlessness, until,
reflection stole her identity.
and when they met under moon her motions
pleased only him, her sighs breathing on the
non responsive.
Utterance a nothing feeling, a voice in storms
soundless drizzle capturing her self importance.
By
-Marie J. Ross-
Boy I sure get personal , Im really not used to it, but I quess thats what poets do. Don't be like the Lone Ranger, ride the saddle of poetry soon ok lol . Talk to you later.
Sincerely
Marie
- At 8:05pm on June 13, 2008,
bikedive said… - No I put in the espresso instead, loved your Song poem too. Haven't been writing , too much on my mind with the big job I started. Hope to see you soon, I'll try to put a few together. bikedive.
- At 4:41pm on May 12, 2008,
Marie J. Ross said…
- Hi bikedive,
Glad to recieve your poem, good as always, loved it. I loved the line snapping a basket of green beans. I sent one to Kathy at Medusa, she posted it a few days ago, for lack of a better name, it was called Porches lol. did you send yours? I sure hope so, it's good.
Looks like you were a travlin man these past weeks, hope you had fun. Keep touch ok.
Love hearing from you, talk to you soon.
Sincerely
Marie
- At 9:28pm on May 11, 2008,
bikedive said…
- Sorry I haven't been here, I got a notion from the Medusa about porches and I put one together, finished it tonight about a minute ago. Hope you like it. No Front Porch Now
By Wayne Robinson
The lost days of PT, you know, pre-television
The instant knowledge of mass-communication
When the evening was spent watching the setting sun
While discussing a future fence repair or mowing lawn
From the porch, while snapping a basket of green beans.
I don’t pre-date the invention of our TV
Our household didn’t have enough money
To fall into middle class until much later
I was in love with books of escape literature
An occasional visit to town for movie scenes.
Now, a big bag of chips with dip and a diet soda
The largest screen we can focus on from the sofa
And the stupidest sit-com we can find to relate
Our brains scrambled and our bodies stagnate
We want to be a star on some show, in our dreams.
Old days are gone, along with the front porch sundown
Snapping beans, playing hide-and-seek till we’re called in
Because it’s way past our bedtime, and we have chores tomorrow
Now we come in for prime-time and our favorite real TV show.
Even jump on the computer in case there are some deleted scenes.
I want to curl up with an old black and white romance
Ingrid Bergman, Betty Davis or Lauren Bacall for instance
Nuke up some butter flavored popcorn add that diet soda
Imagine the theater smell instead of thinking of my sells quota.
Remember when morals and integrity were real things.
Remember that swinging chair on the porch rocking slowly
That pink laced dress that helped you look so pretty?
Your eyes as bright and fresh as ice in a root beer
Trying to sneak a kiss behind your watchful sister.
Hoping I was the man who would give you wedding rings.
- At 8:09pm on May 2, 2008,
bikedive said…
- I couldn't make the play, I wanted to but I didn't get home till seven, sorry, hope it went well. bikedive.
- At 11:50pm on March 28, 2008,
Marie J. Ross said…
- Hi bikedive,
Things are great with me how about you? Have you been picking up the pen? he he.
well I guess i might as well send you a poem, since the muse has found her way back
into my sleepy brain. Here it is I just wrote it last night.
Oceans Odyssey OnThe
Pendumums Swing.
The sea always sways in endless journey
like a pendulum swinging on un- wound
clocks.
Time is timeless as mighty waves bow, the
shore sweeping granules through sun and
storm.
It hears the wail of wind it's utterance a translucent
chase over crags and crevice, where faded moss
sleeps on round grey rocks.
Seaweed floats like jelly snakes searching for respite,
as seashells lay in their sandy playground for childred to fetch.
Romance in it's rush and wavering tote, joins the passion ride
under silvery ribbons of moon and the journey repeats,
time timelessas the pendulum swining on un-wound clocks.
By
-Marie J. Ross-
Keep well, Sincerely Marie R
- At 8:29pm on March 28, 2008,
bikedive said…
- Thnking about you, hope you are doing okay.
- At 9:24am on March 11, 2008,
Chinetana 'Nana' Phounsavath said… - Marie...my sincere apologies for not making it to your reading. I was out of town. I hope you had a lot of fun doing it. Wish I was there. Take care, sweetie =)
To another beautiful day =)
- At 9:23pm on March 10, 2008,
bikedive said…
- Thank you for the wonderful readings Marie, glad I was able to make it.
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