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Uncle Dennis’s Magic Back Kitchen.

Black sheep uncle with gimlet glass eye,
his domino’s passed by practiced palms.
Smooth fingers Braille brush fleeting dots,
plays double bluff blank to start.
Scrutinize cards, idles time between turns,
laminate surface gleams through the hush.
Crowding our Cluedo board, scrabbling for words.
Snakes teem up ladders, pale faces flush..
Deep varnished box then always appears,
magician's wand plucked out of thin air,
a wizard slips into a vacated chair,
enhancing a moment of magical dreams.

2 Aug 09

Rated 8 (9.3) by 1 users.
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Whatever your looking to play... cheats, hints, codes or walk through... Cluedo board, scrabbles... for words... I had  hard time with this one, maybe cause I don't play games anymore since childhood... to much time spent on P/C... j.g. smiles... thanks for the flow of hard reading words...
 — goeszon

should have ended the poem with the line
"thats where he molested me"

if you had done that, it would be in the top rated :)
 — john_daker

Yes John, no doubt, he said with an edge of cockiness in his voice, but i refused to pander to the base nature of the human race with its increasingly desperate search for sensation fuelled by a media frenzy. My Uncle Dennis was an outsider in our family who made a lot of mistakes but was dearly loved by me, in the nicest possible way of course

Larry pressing the gutters Lark
 — larrylark

Shall i send along a dikshunary next time goeszon?
 — larrylark

a bit self-consciously wordy

noodle paranoid lexographer man
 — noodleman

It was not for need of a dictionary... it was something, something to keep my brain from stumbling over your composition... laminate surface glitters amid expectant hush... illuminates each painted fluorescent cheek, over kill...i am sure that with thought we all can throw a lot of ingredient "words" around, which takes skill no doubt to do, but "i" being an outsider was having a hard time dancing to the music, or something like that, now, since i am not a part of a group will suffer at the trivia... j.g. smiles... this monday morning...  derogatory sputtering, dikshunary ?
 — goeszon


get yourself in shape and dive among the wordy excesses that border self parody for there you will find all tomorrows parties that start in the glittering evening and end in the cold light of a cold grey and rain flecked dawn where all the saddo's like myself meet and swap verbiage like i used to swap fag packets with famous footballers painted on  when i was a kid, but i do take your point and it is well made
and pertinant.

Larry grey flecked lark
 — larrylark

Hi noodleman

I suppose it is so i will relegate it to the Z list immediately

Larry alphabetikal Lark
 — larrylark

Sounds like our Larry Lark imagination here.  Line 1 is fun to read out loud.  Not sure at all if the action of about games or something else sleight of hand going on but the lines are very good, the imagery is warm and happy.
 — Isabelle5

Ah, a voice I recognized for a change!  Nice one, LL.
 — Isabelle5

Hi Isabelle

I noted with interest your passion for the Moody Blues who i frequently went to see in and arouind London in the 60's particularly at the long defunct club named "Tiles" in Oxford street which was a Mecca (as in ballroom) for all the Hippy hangers on, phony balony 60's "beautiful people", drug dealers etc and as The MB's ripped , if that is the correct word , through their set all the head shakers in front of the stage started a shakin' their heads but i, being the secretive Larry lark stayed in the shadows, and there were plenty of them in that den of iniquitie ,fondling the petals of some hippie lady who had asked me to accompany her on a slow boat to Marrakesh. I off course declined, as you will have realised, if you have read my Sailor Lark poems, that i suffer from violent sea sickness and even wading across a duck pond causes me to vomit violently. which is not nice for the ducks. I do believe that period was just after Denny Laine had left and Justin Hayward and some other guy had joined. I caught up with Denny Laune in 2001 when he lived for a short period near Clitheroe a short distance from my home town and an ambitious local entrepenuer persuaded him to do a gig at the now also sadly defunct Lamb Public House, a mecca for local rock bands and he agreed bringing the house down with his acoustic set, "Say You Don't Mind" being a particular stand out on that night.

Larry nights when I sat in Lark  
 — larrylark