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Tuesday, August 15, 2006



Flushed Print Of The Poetic Poppy

Here are some new saffrom summer treats to wet your whimsical whistle.....and might I recommend that if you're surfing the World Wide Web this week to head to your cyber cafe and enjoy the endorphiny experience beyond your laptop.....it's proving to be a disc-o inferno out there today! (giggles) Long live my HP Pavilion f1503! :)

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Margarita Pedicure
By: Noah Eaton
8/15/06

I’ve seen a hundred disco sunrises,
been to foam parties all across Ibiza,
I’ve flown all across the island,
just to try all sorts of exotic pizza,
the Gomorrah of the Med,
has become my Cytherea,
I took more minds on a trip than Boy George,
funking to the Baleraic Beat at the Amnesia.

I’ve traveled from the top of Angel Falls,
to the tip of Patagonia,
my suitcase is stamped with so many travel stickers,
I suspect my neighbors have hodophobia,
now my feet are rubbed raw and blistered,
I could sure deodorize those tired tootsies,
they deserve a little special attention,
so I’m pulling up a beach chair
to make them primed for footsies.

Gonna get me a margarita pedicure,
soak my feet in Epson salt,
rub them with shea butter,
gonna get me a margarita pedicure,
gonna spend a warm summer day,
by the poolside where the sunshine putters.

The Papallacta Hot Springs,
know how to give a warm stone massage,
wearing avocado slice monocles,
my face has become a breathing key lime pie collage,
sporting stockings of seaweed,
tropical sun seasoning me with a citrus splash,
then I’ll be off for the Volcan de Lodo El Tutomo,
for a toxin-burning mountain dash.

Gonna get me a margarita pedicure,
soak my feet in Epson salt,
rub them with shea butter,
gonna get me a margarita pedicure,
gonna spend a warm summer day,
by the poolside where the sunshine putters.

They got aquatic jogging,
they got hydrogymnastics,
they got vibrosaunas,
that leave you tripping the light fantastic,
you’ll never feel purer in your life,
‘til you attend their Inipi ceremony,
mitauke oyasin,
with summer I'm making holy matrimony!

Gonna get me a margarita pedicure,
soak my feet in Epson salt,
rub them with shea butter,
gonna get me a margarita pedicure,
gonna spend a warm summer day,
by the poolside where the sunshine putters.

Only in summer does laziness find respectability,
it's in the eyes of a caterpillar we find palatability,
inventing romance like a smitten nightingale,
the amount of laughter you spill
can never be measured on the Brix scale.

Gonna get me a margarita pedicure,
soak my feet in Epson salt,
rub them with shea butter,
gonna get me a margarita pedicure,
gonna spend a warm summer day,
by the poolside where the sunshine putters...

...gonna sit by the poolside,
where the sunshine sputters...


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Gillyweed Ranzmalkin, The Gnome On A Pole
By: Noah Eaton
8/13/06

Lurching up there,
from his lofty perch,
sitting right above,
the Calhoun Falls Baptist Church,
loiters as taciturn,
as a village cherry birch,
a seventeen inch tall crackerjack,
of doggerel verse,
he’s a pale-faced pantaloon,
all dressed up in motley,
gardeners are intimidated by his stare,
as though he’s V.I Warshawski,
no one’s sure if this is some publicity stunt,
or if he just sites there like some Maltese cat,
maybe he just loves a first-class seat,
to behold some old world chat.

Gnome on a pole,
gnome on a pole,
among some it’s generating,
a heightened row,
gnome on a pole,
gnome on a pole,
standing stonily quiet from his tall abode.

Among some folklore fruitcakes,
Gillyweed Rainmaking’s a working class hero,
but he’s got his disparagers too,
including his troll neighbor Nacklemadge Yamashiro,
and the Garden Gnome Liberation Front,
has trained a reconnoiterer woodpecker,
plotting to gnome-nap this josher,
deport him back to Lamport Hall in Northamptonshire,
but generally speaking, most have come to his defense,
such as Freiden Farfrigraganuergen,
founder of the group Gnomes In Space,
with a face as green as a gherkin,
he’s holding talks with the church groundskeeper,
who swears Gillyweed’s peering at her over the hedge rows,
by the looks of it,
it may take years to agree to a quid pro quo.

Gnome on a pole,
gnome on a pole,
his flesh is as powdery,
as dry pastry dough,
gnome on a pole,
gnome on a pole,
flooding the headlines on local talk shows.

Gnome on a pole,
gnome on a pole,
beginning to have mushrooms,
growing out of his big toe,
gnome on a pole,
gnome on a pole,
tourists have begun pouring in,
from to and fro,
gnome on a pole,
gnome on a pole,
he spots stolen doughnut trucks,
faster than you can say “Inspector Costeau!”,
gnome on a pole,
gnome on a pole,
who knows what secrets,
this lavender cone-hatted uncle bestows.


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Gravity Assist
By: Noah Eaton
8/5/06

Let me show you a secret,
that I’ve always wanted to share,
because fiction reveals deep truths,
that reality can dissolve into thin air,
walking this interplanetary dust cloud tightrope,
4,700 kilometers between Saturn’s rings,
gently falling in the direction,
that your gravity carries me.

Cause imagination is our highest kite,
cause imagination is our highest kite,
cause imagination is our highest kite,
that flies light years beyond our wildest dreams...

Swimming between faces in scrapbooks,
that I’ve recognized for so long,
daydreaming August afternoons away,
imagining I’m bringing you along,
there’s so much I want to say,
there’s so much I want you to know,
sometimes I feel tempted,
pushing Saturn into some black hole.

Cause imagination is our highest kite,
cause imagination is our highest kite,
cause imagination is our highest kite,
that flies light years beyond our wildest dreams…

Cause imagination is our highest kite,
cause imagination is our highest kite,
cause imagination is our highest kite,
that flies light years beyond our wildest dreams…

You’re my moon-kissed mermaid,
diving in the seas of the Milky Way,
your eyelashes gleam brighter than the sun’s corona,
during a Vanuatu honeymoon...

…no pair of binoculars,
nor any choice of words,
can describe this amorous homesick feeling,
blowing over me like a sand dune in Cancun...
.
.
.
Everything you imagine must be real,
cause everything happens when you dream,
my perception is like a rocket,
destined to chase you around the galaxies’ jet stream...

Cause imagination is our highest kite,
cause imagination is our highest kite,
cause imagination is our highest kite,
that flies light years beyond our wildest dreams…

Cause imagination is our highest kite,
cause imagination is our highest kite,
cause imagination is our highest kite,
that flies light years beyond our wildest dreams...


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Down By The Waterfront
By: Noah Eaton
7/2/06

Couples speed along the lane,
on their ten-speed bikes,
along the sparkling Willamette,
when the summer afternoon is ripe,
it’s hot as a pair of jumper cables,
at a tailgate party barbecue,
so I walk barefoot on the grass along the sidewalk,
and lie there staring up into the blue.

Down by the waterfront,
in the summer heat,
on a treasure hunt,
for carefree festivity…

The sound of meaty blues guitar,
fills the scenery with electricity,
young lovers drive up on cavalries of motorboats,
just so they can lay back and hear them swing,
a captain’s laughter echoes from Riverplace Marina.
you can swear he commandeers Lady Washington,
I feel I could chase this river down,
all the way to Tualatin.

Down by the waterfront,
in the summer heat,
on a treasure hunt,
for carefree festivity…

If you saw a heat wave,
would you wave it right back,
let it pack away your troubles,
and send them off to extended summer camp,
I can only begin to imagine all you’ll share with me,
when you first buzz by like a dragonfly,
with dockside delights doubly as divine,
each and every hot summer night.

Down by the waterfront,
in the summer heat,
on a treasure hunt,
for carefree festivity...

Down by the waterfront,
in the summer heat,
on a treasure hunt,
for carefree festivity...


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Injection Fairy Lily
By: Noah Eaton
6/29/06

Heart of clear water,
plush Amazoness tiger,
flittering like a butterfly in zero gravity,
graceful charity,
kaleidoscopic dexterity,
riddling every cloud of summer with cavities,
stir-fried in a mystic wok,
basted in the Saigon dawn.
lost in the labyrinth of her fitting room,
a pineapple blast,
vast and unsurpassed,
ooh, the indigo broom of her perfume...

Injection fairy lily,
silly but sweet as Chantilly,
a flute of summoning dragon,
with her scroll of bewitchment,
the muse of all magicians,
my casual lazy summer morning tea wagon...

Token of thanksgiving,
transcendent wings reliving,
with twin swords of flashing light,
a walking hidden book of spell,
with a heart of the underdog’s heavy swell,
arousing youth in every carpet knight,
a mermaid gymnast in a voodoo tutu,
with a meadow rue tattoo,
caretaker of the cocoon of evolution,
atomic firefly that winks like a sphinx,
just a pinch of high jinks can put you to forty winks,
she’s my celestial transformation Lilliputian.

Injection fairy lily,
silly but sweet as Chantilly,
a flute of summoning dragon,
with her scroll of bewitchment,
the muse of all magicians,
my casual lazy summer morning tea wagon...

(Oh ho ho,
star chips,
my favorite,
oh ho ho!)

Injection fairy lily,
silly but sweet as Chantilly,
a flute of summoning dragon,
with her scroll of bewitchment,
the muse of all magicians,
my casual lazy summer morning tea wagon...

...injection fairy lily...

...silly but sweet as Chantilly...

...injection fairy lily...


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XOXO,
Noah Eaton
(Mistletoe Angel)
(Emmanuel Endorphin)

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