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Hotwired the orgasmatron
headed out on sixty-nine
know there’s nothin up ahead
and even less behind.
Pagination, pixilation
nothing seems to work
maybe just  I’m gettin old
maybe just a jerk
off that is
gee whiz
can’t ya take a joke?
Lost in smoke
years since last toke 
days since last drink
I think.
As ya'll can see
rhyme don't agree 
with me, 
so back to blank 
slate, mate
and the cheque's 
on you.
Iambic to the core
commonman’s  snore
such a bore.
Straight from the soul
infinite whole
or is that hole,
wasn’t  this 
supposed to be 
Never know
have to go

Sitting at SFO

Waiting for a dear friend 
to land.
Watching the minutes creep
slowly by.
Amused by the constant flow
of strangers,
yet, not so strange.
Each carries something of mine,
a walk, a shirt, a pin, a watch,
a rundown shoe, a beard,
a lazy eye, a slouch,
a limp, a tear, a hesitant glance,
a disappointed glare.

The hours pass and 
all are repeated
over again,
and the same waitress
sold me coffee
three times over,
in three hours,
as if each was the first time.

I watched the tables being straightened
by the same somber lady,
every half hour,
working around me
as if I wasn't there,
and I was struck
by how we each perform our role,
me waiting, 
she selling,
she straightening
the one that I wait for, coming,
and how all our moves are
in a thousand terminals,
and connected each to each,
in a gigantic dance,
reverberating all around
the world,
person to person,
person to animal,
and to insect,
and to countless beings,
seen and unseen,
a connected organism,
sometimes at war with itself,
but, more often, just
and growing, 
and changing,
and it breathes the air,
and clings to the earth,
and swims in the sea, 
maybe is the sea,
and the earth,
and my passionate love,
seems very small,

Theater of the absurd

All of us are born ignorant and some
Of us remain that way I'm sad to say.
The knowledgeable flourish and become
The shepherds, the dumb just piddle away
Their lives like sheep in a grassy pasture.
The ignorance in our society
Exists through our own design I am sure
To guarantee an apt propriety.
Without the sheep there can be no shepherds.
Therefore a symbiotic relation
Plays in the theater of the absurd.
There is no suitable explanation 
Don't even attempt to state a notion.
Our roles are predetermined one by one.

Confession of a poetic wannabe

Everything around me
Turns into poetry--
But badly written.
My brain foams
Like it was bitten
By a rabid dog
Or like an angry mob
That doesn’t know what it’s ranting about.

My Soul to My Master I Owe

I have lived for eons through time and space
Toiled and traveled through all my days
From the warm golden temple of the sun
To the white granite pavilions of the moon
I have hung among distant blazing stars ...
Still my soul has found no rest

To earth I sailed on light beams iridescent 
Explored the blue-green oceans deep
I have climbed snow-covered mountain peaks 
And carried by winds over hot, barren desert sands  
I have found some relief in oasis green...
Yet, still my soul can find no rest

Through lighting storms and crashing waves
Through riches won and riches lost
I have heard robin sing her song so sweet
Earth’s finest instruments can not compete
Enthralled by the million voices of a children’s choir...
Yet my thirst for rest remains unquenched

I must return from whence I came
Where my soul, this light to my Master, I owe
Though beauty of the universe remains unsung
Still incomparable to my Master’s home
I know this yearning will never cease
‘Til Heaven’s shores my soul will reach


                                              You are young.
                                     You are young and beautiful ...
                                         The blush on your chin ...
                                      Like a rose that is in the bud.
                                           Smooth the skin and
                                        hair fluttering in the wind ...
                                          Smile on your mouth ...
                                      A roseknupp to make stand.
                                             Yet you are young.
                                      Your journey has just begun.

A-L  Andresen :)



Being a parent is a wonderful life
Your raise your child in a world of strife
The times might be hard, no one said it would be easy
There may be times when you might even fill queasy

Each day is a new day that you learn
They’ll be hugs and kisses that you earn
 First smiles and first steps that you’ll see
First day at school, and a scrape on their knee

As the years go by and yes they go fast
All these special moments they just don’t last
First date and first car and first broken heart
Then theirs the wedding and a new life to start

All a sudden your golden years they appear
And your children are gone you might shed a tear
You may think of all the years gone by
But now its your time to let your wings fly

Enjoy all of your days do all that you can
This is your time you can make a plan
Its up to you I hope you know
Just enjoy yourself get up and go!!!

………….By  barbara poor


Wear his T-shirt and feel him close when he‘s gone.


Wear his T-shirt and feel him close when he‘s gone.

Pippa and Harry

Pippa, sans slipper,loves causing a fight
She dampened Kate's spotlight,inviting her spite
Pip's lured a  royal bastard, without much invite
And smiles sly and alluring, to the gossips delight

Unlike Cinderella, she's swept with no broom
Nor scrubbed any floors on her knees in her room
In fact her slim legs are both pampered and groomed
For her dresses are only one  inch past her bloom.

Harry's wild antics have stirred some debate
The red headed playboy is in rut and must mate 
Poor Harry, your passion's a fly on your plate
The fly's actions have been a royal nuisance of late.!

Britain longs to hear Pippa bemoaning her plight
A fair maiden in heat, a paparazzi's delight
No chance for Prince Harry to rescue this sprite
His sword's stuck in His zipper, it caused quite a bite

This royal fairy tale will end as all others, 
Bland William and Kate will beget two royal brothers
Pippa and Harry play the press like two lovers
And we'll await photo's of them under the covers.


Tiny water drops
Green buds appearing on trees.
Springs fresh warming breeze.

Clear skies always blue,
Flowery meadows so gay,
Makes for summer play.

Awesome windy days,
Air that smells so clean and pure
Fall’s spectacular

Crystal colored snow
Breathing the frosty night air,
Winter has such flair.

Brenda Meier-Hans

Bipolar Zen

Unhappy face then
   Happy face now forms again
      Zen      a transitory friend

Copyright 3/11/14

Turtle Physics: All Is Stardust But

Like an excited smear of photo luminescent bacteria, 
Trembling with a beauty so fearfully short lived, 
On a dark globe, 'mother earth, ' that is itself stardust, 
Mankind's cities gleam feebly, tremulous, at night
Against the infinite blackness that is space.
Space that is itself the ultimate black body, 
For no light, no energy, can escape its depths.
Light is only seen here, in fact, 
If you happen to be in its way, 
As it rushes past on its way to equilibrium, 
A kind of stasis, where everything is the same, 
And God, if He exists, perhaps melts into all we know, 
Imagination, now indistinguishable, 
From the lack thereof, 
A lover you will never see again.

And the star you still see hanging 
From the branch of the universe's tree, 
Like the turtle of ancient lore
That carries the earth on its back, 
Is not the same star at all
But a star diminished by a single photon of light
You know, the one that struck your fancy, 
Impacting the retina of your eye, which is actually
Naked brain, grey matter exposed to light.
This photon, in so loving you, 
Surrenders its identity completely, 
Just for the chance to warm you one iota.
I wonder what, in fact, happens to a photon, 
That in all of time, does not strike anything? 
Has it too served God's purpose? 

Oh God, please promise me, 
That when You dream, 
Your dreams will always be, 
If not of me, then, at least of this creation, 
For, Oh God, it is so beautiful!

Filigree Clouds

~*~ Clouds of twisting filigree Azure sky entwined, tangled Soft, delicate, billowing A lace hammock in the sky ~*~ ______________________ August 29, 2012 By Broken Wings
For the contest Hammock of Sky In Tanaga Sponsored by, nette onclaud 6th place

Happy New Year

H ilariously overwhelmed with
A pprehension and angst
P erpetuating exuberant celebration
P urposely released at
Y ear’s end

N eighbors 
E nduring a night of
W orthlessness

Y elling and toasting
E nthusiasticly with hopes of
A twelve month reprieve from
R esolutions

Copyright © 2009 By Caryl S. Muzzey


a container
glistens in sunlight	
sweetness from within

©  Mar 05 2010      Charles Henderson