Friday, July 23, 2010

Riding my bicycle
Up Queen Anne hill
Goin' up's a bother
Goin' down's a thrill
Pushin' on the pedals
With my tongue hangin' out
When I get to the top,
You can hear me shout
You can't beat this
No, you can't beat this
'cause, when I turn around.
I'll race down like a coo-ool breeze.

14 Comments:

Blogger Glenn Buttkus said...

You on Fidelio pumping and puffing
up the Queen's spine, digging
tread into tarmac, sinew into
energy, spinning your chain,
belaying your aged calves,
and pushing your gluts into cramps.
panting like a pooch
with a helmet on, your tongue
showing a tinge of blue
on its tip, and oxygen finds
its own path through your churned
up capillaries--screaming at the
crest as you spin around and
add the maelstrom of speed
to your chasing of ghosts
and reaching back to a time
when this hill was home.

There, a fine book end for
your ditty, and something to
add to your poem on FFTR;
yours comes first, of course,
cuz the inspiration belongs
over at Redwing Manor.

11:06 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Listen,
there's a hell of a good universe
next door; let's go.

............e.e. cummings

5:50 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

The lower you fall,
the higher you fly.

..........Chuck Palahniuk

5:52 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Youse dew unnerstand dat not allofus
can get our cans up on sum damn
bicycle and pump up Queen Anne
Hill, don't ya? So good for youse
dat you can, and keep up dat good
stuff. We all live truu youse.

............Vinnie

5:54 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I would love to come over and
measure your calves some time.
I'll bet they are all pumped up too.

...............Tiny Tim

5:56 PM  
Blogger Glenn Buttkus said...

MOZART AND THE AARDVARK
THE WOLFIE THAT I KNEW
AMADEUS BLUES
THE HEADLESS MOZART
MOZART IN MIAMI
MOZART IN MINNEAPOLIS
MOZART LIVES IN MICHIGAN
THE MOZART CAPER
MOZART'S BIG TOE
THE FOUR DOOR '56 MOZART
MOZART ON WHEELS
MOZART'S PANTIES
THE MOZART DIET
ATTACK OF THE MOZARTMEN
THE FLYING FINGERS OF MOZART
MOZART'S CLUBFOOT
MOZART'S MENNIGGUS
MENOPAUSE & MOZART
THE SKULL OF MOZART
THE MOZART MOMENT
THE FALL OF MOZART
MOZART'S THREE MINUTE OPERAS
GIVE ME MAYO & MOZART
TOO MANY MOZARTS
THE MOZART KID
MOZART THE RIPPER
MOZART AT THE VATICAN
DOWN THE MOZART RIVER
THE MOZART TRUSS
MOZART KISSED BOYS TOO
MOZART'S LAUGHTER
SALLERI VS. MOZART; SMACKDOWN
MOZART CAGE FIGHTING
MOZART'S SISTER'S DIARY
CAIN AND MOZART: A PARABLE
SIX STRING MOZART
MOZART MARCHING MUSIC
MOZART SUGAR MUNCHIES
MOZART TURKISH CIGARELLOS
MOZART CONDOMS: A CLASSIC
TITUS MOZART
MOZART AND THE GOLDEN DRAGON
MOZART CONTATAS
THE MERRY MOZARTS
MOZART MONASTERY
MICKEY & MOZART: PALS FOREVER
MOZART SLEEP WEAR
MOZART IN MISSISSIPPI
THE NEW IBERIAN MOZART MYSTERY
MOZART ON THE DELTA
BEALE STREET MOZART MESSAGES
MUDDY MOZART: THE PLAYBOY CONNECTION
MOZART AND THE RISE OF PORNOGRAPHY
MOZART, THE NAZIS, & ELEANOR ROOSEVELT
THE GIRL ON MOZART BRIDGE
MOZART ON THE ROOF
MOZART OF MINNESOTA
MOZART'S SHOES
THE MOZART LACE TALES
MY RED MOZART STOCKINGS
MAME'S MOZART NIGHTMARE
MOZART RUNNING
MOZART LOW DOWN & DIRTY
THE WARTS OF MOZART
MOZART IN STAINED GLASS
THE MOZART MENORAH
THE MOZART GLASS CANDLESTICKS
MOZART: SILK AND IVORY
MOZART IN THE MOSLEM WORLD
HAND'S FREE MOZART
THE MOZART BOMB
ONE-EYED MOZART
MOZART AND THE PIRATES
MOZART AND THE LEPRECHAUNS

Hey, here's a few more Mozart bits
of literature that you might check out.

6:27 PM  
Blogger Glenn Buttkus said...

Happy Sunday, all. Finally am getting
into retirement mode; stayed up to
1:30am, and slept in to 9am; feels
great--I like it, l love it, I want some
more of it!
Have to chuckle at some of the
MOZART titles that precede this
comment. Wolfie was quite a dude.,
My cousin, Jim, a struggling author,
meets me for coffee in Auburn about
once a year. Today is the day for
some face time. Looks like it will
be hot, hot, again today. I think
it it 90 here yesterday for a smidge.
Did make it out yesterday to
sit in an air conditioned theater
to see tough girl Angelina Jolie
doing her thing in SALT. It is a
very well structured spy thriller,
and the action is non-stop;
worth a look for most of you.
Starting to get my site back
under control. Did spend more
time there when I was still
working, cuz every spare minute
I found, I worked on it for relief
and fun. Melva's conference is
over today. She called me last
night. She and her gal pal will
drive from Little Rock down to
TX to spend one night with her
mother; a special treat for the
good old lady that is my mother-
in-law. We haven't heard much
about your rentals lately. Are
they on an even keel, or have
you just been way too busy
working on painting Redwing
Manor, and entertaining
your house guests?

11:19 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Now that you have a "green house"
will you grow tomatoes and weed
indoors? Grow lites in your basement,
and a special watering/misting system?
Could be fun.

.................J. Eddy Hoover

11:23 AM  
Blogger Glenn Buttkus said...

My Fidelio poem.....who is written
like? Just curious.

11:24 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

We all die.
The goal isn't to live
forever,
the goal is to create
something that will.

...........Chuck Palahniuk

11:26 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

The most wasted
of all days is
one without laughter.

,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,e.e. cummings

11:28 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Most of the time
I don't have much fun.
The rest of the time I
don't have any fun at all.

.............Woody Allen

11:30 AM  
Blogger Glenn Buttkus said...

Listened to EIGHTBALL IN THE SIDE
POCKET, and hey, it connected
with me, and my Sunday persona---
Nice juxtapositio of smoky tavern
imagery and dreamscape,
three pool tables with cool green felt
smeared with chalk and beer stains;
rack 'em & smack 'em--yet there is the
edge to the piece, quite contemplative
as well, like our musical protagonist
is a watcher, an outsider, an outlander
barely noticing the loud game of pool
going on in front of him, not paying
attention to the blonde with the big
tits and tight shorts bending over
the oaken table to hustle the wolves,
eyes fixed elsewhere, on some other
landscape. his pounder of beer
still full at his elbow, unsipped and
untested.....seeing three figures
in the green mist walking stiffly
toward him in silver chain mail,
holding polished golden shields
with red crosses blazoned on
them, their huge wings folded
back in battle mode, strapped
down with studded black leather.
Who are they?
What do they want?

11:50 AM  
Blogger Glenn Buttkus said...

Went on over to Applehouse
even though I realize that Lynn
shut it down for the summer,
and looked at the last poetry
challenge she had thrust out
there in early July, fashioning
some kind of poetics after
the style of William Carlos
Williams. Coming in late,
realizing it will receive no
comment, I felt compelled
to write something regardless:

That Is Just To Say

Fire out beyond the Gulf horizon,
leaving riggers and roustabouts drowned
as the massive steel girders buckled
and the mighty platform toppled,

dropping like a thousand shiploads of anvils,
plunging headlong rapidly down along
those cold oceanic miles to the
wellhead gone totally berserk,

gushing crude like a wild petroleum god,
soon coating the coastline with
a thick tar baby frosting, leaving floating
black death as BP’s summer gift.

Glenn Buttkus July 2010

7:49 PM  

Post a Comment

Links to this post:

Create a Link

<< Home

Web Counter
My worth as a human being