Solotramp's Podcast
Poetry Propaganda -- How audacious! by Eleanor A Binnings
(The pic above is actually my parking lot with a gorgeous sunset.  This poem is a Sestina. This is one of a triptych--three sestinas in this case that go together....)


It's easier to escape into a dead past
than to walk the voluminous fence
that separates his life from yours,
to keep a precarious balance
while you long for the solid feel of arms
around you, a caress in the night.

The most longing times are at night,
but when you recall the past,
it's a means of disarming
a present -- that looks like a fencing
match, a means of getting your balance.
The past may be dead.  But it's yours.

And you can remember all of your
hol-i-days:  a canoe trip down a river at night . . .
. . . learning to stand on one foot . . . balancing
your checkbook . . . looking beautiful . . . and walking past
a string of men sitting on a fence
showing you their flexed arms.

. . . The first time he took you in his arms,
when maybe he loved you
some time before the construction of fences . . .
some time before you got lost at night . . .
some time when you had no past
together . . . when all seemed in balance.

But the scales unbalanced.
Words turned into arms --
firing up the aching past
you'd divorced when you left your
father's house . . . wounds reopened in the night
-- until you had to build a fence

to protect yourself, a fence
built high and straight, loigs balanced.
And here you are: alone in the night
with only your own arms
to surround you.
Not much to look at in the dying past.

Yet armed with the past
You pull back from the fence
Balanced for a moment at midnight

Direct download: Balance.mp3
Category:podcasts -- posted at: 7:56am MDT

Man Who Lies a man who lies

a dishonest man is not a fun man
he'll break your heart at every turn
a dishonest man is not a fun man
he'll leave you to cry and burn

don't ever love a man untrue
don't love a man who lies to you
he'll break your heart at every turn
while in the dark you cry and burn

a man who lies is not your friend
his love is fickle, prone to bend
if he bends the truth at his whim
face his lies: stay away from him

save your heart for a man of gold
whose word is good, whose word is true
he's the man you can love 'til you're old
the kind of man who won't betray you

don't ever love a man untrue
don't love a man who lies to you
he'll break your heart at every turn
leaving you to cry and burn

(c)2008 Binnings ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Category:poems -- posted at: 3:45pm MDT

What You Need What You Need

Tired of being alone, you open
your doors and invite people
to press their feet into your carpets,
drink wine, and talk
about politics, movie stars,
and the meaning of life.

Alone again, you muse
about how women and men
long for extended seasons of love

and how all you know of the world
is asses braying -- a lion's roar --
garlands celebrating your house

--that if your philosophy is skepticism,
no one can dispute the words you spread
out on the sand under the sun,
that if you fill cups with water
and feed hungry children,
who will deny you your ambition?

--that favors turn up in unexpected places. . .
You meet a man in the road
carrying luggage with foreign stickers,
and ask him how things explode,
to explain spontaneous combustion,

to carry your grocery bags
to speak plainly of plans,
to sit down on your sofa
to write a letter that talks
how hard it is to see
the obstacles that lie
in the desert ahead.

And then you stand near the desert
not knowing if the sun rises or sets,
knowing only the time to cover your face
from the drying winds.

It's sleep . . .

or . . .love . . . .

or . . . God . . .you need.

Direct download: What_You_Need_by_solotramp.mp3
Category:podcasts -- posted at: 8:44pm MDT

I changed the template, and that messed things up.  I will figure out how to repair it one of these days, but too busy at the moment to do so. You can still access everything, even if it's repeated.

Edit: Psssst. When you copy from Word to the publish page, please get rid of the crap code. Best Regards, Anthony.
Category:tallkin' -- posted at: 9:49pm MDT

Grow cold

In the still dead of night, a fear takes hold,

a suggestion of giving too much, then being left alone.

Time breaks your heart, and you grow cold.


How many times have you yearned to be bold

but afraid the cord will break and drop you with a moan.

In the dead still of night, a fear takes hold.


You travel to the days when they tried to mold

you, dissatisfied with your natural skin and bond.

Time breaks your heart, and you grow cold.


You relieve the threat of getting ironed into the fold

of a cloth without txture, music, or tone.

]In the dead still of night, a fear takes hold.


Night after night, the stories are told

about houses burning that you don’t own.

Time breaks your heart, and you grow cold.


You lose sight of the rainbow as the days unfold

counting the minutes you have yet on loan.

In the dead still of night, a fear takes hold.

Time breaks your heart, and you grow cold.

Direct download: Grow_Cold.mp3
Category:podcasts -- posted at: 9:11pm MDT

Acquaintance With Privilege An acquaintance with privilege
The walls are so high
Opportunity is perennial
yet underground like a sigh

Acquaintance with privilege
Who truly are you?
Behind those walls, what do you do?
Or think about when moments are spare
Or minister to with strong feelings of care?

Acquaintance with privilege
What matters to you?
What are your priorities?
In your life, what's new?

Direct download: Acquaintance_With_Privilege.mp3
Category:podcasts -- posted at: 3:57pm MDT

Shadows Shadows

though i hear your words
there is no action
so why should those words
mean anything to me?

you've held your secrets
you've hid in the shadows
you claim that's your right
and yes, yes it is

you can stay in the shadows
i'll not look for you there
nor will i care what you say

stay in the shadows
it's your right
but those shadows
will hide the jewels
Direct download: shadows.mp3
Category:podcasts -- posted at: 1:04am MDT