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Ballad Adventure Poems | Ballad Poems About Adventure

These Ballad Adventure poems are examples of Ballad poems about Adventure. These are the best examples of Ballad Adventure poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Ballad | |

Indian Girl

--Virginia Slim--

Different eyes, the same world 
Ancient skin, dirty Indian Girl 
Smokey, eyes, exotic raven hair 
---Now listen to  the colors, of transformation, 
On the day she was born, the wind blew in, 
A blessing ---her soul, fallen from the heavens
A  gorgeous puff of smoke, Miss Virginia Slim

Able to walk the world with an open mind, she twirls
Pocahontas, one of her many names. 
She carves, and climbs on trees, this little Indian Girl, 
Her feathers ride with the wind, against her red titian skin
Daughter of Chief Powhatan, a powerful tribal, red man 
Peace and love with the Indians of her Virginia Lands,

Many myths, many stories, maybe a mad woman, 
A new Christian, living sad poverty, a silent hero, 
Twisted tales, from savage green to ivory white religion
In her eyes, life never was about greed and skin
Her new look attained an altitude precision
Pocahontas tricked and captured, 
Set to sail another tribe, lands were taken over, 
Boat sailed out of Virginia Lands

Tribes acclaimed her to be wild and ambitious
"The naughty one," searching for admission
Native American child, before the princess, 
Her beautiful soul, a short auspicious beginning
Leaving her world, beautiful and fearless
Forgetting her roots-- From Mother Willow's Vision 
Pocahontas, the Indian Legend from, The Virginia Lands

by;PD


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DANCE AMONG THE FLOWERS

Dance among the flowers
Let's have a party and a tea
Dreaming of the future, and
How I think that things should be
Life should be an adventure
A Prince should take me to the Ball
The wind always fills my sails
When I'm with him, gonna have it all

I dream out loud to make it clear
This little girl has no fear

Growing up is not easy
So much is not what it seems
No time to smell the roses
Or to think of childhood dreams
Life just becomes survival
My Prince was really a pauper too
My ship never left the harbor 
Happy days are all too few

My dreams long gone, nothing near
Grown up girl.. So many tears

Hide behind the surface
So you think that I am strong
Inside I'm falling to pieces
How could everything go wrong
Life can make you bitter
A shell of what you could be
Drowning out in the ocean
So far out that none can see

Prayed for a miracle, a new song
That a true Prince would come along

Met you the next morning
Your humor made me smile
The way you looked at me
I hoped you'd stay for awhile
You came a little closer
Then you gently took my hand
Words can't describe it all
Lost dreams were being fanned

You were my miracle, you were my song
All of those childhood dreams, They were inside all along

Dance among the flowers
Let's have a party and a tea
Dreaming of the future, and
How I think that things should be
Life should be an adventure
A Prince should take me to the Ball
The wind always fills my sails
When I'm with him, gonna have it all

I dream out loud to make it clear
This little girl has no fear

You were my miracle, you were my song
All of those childhood dreams,
They were inside all along


*This is the story of a little girl growing up with amazing dreams, only to be devastated by the harsh realities of life.  Then by chance, in her adult life,  she meets someone that restores her belief in dreams she thought were long gone.

12-16-14


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Bloom Not, Wolfsbane

Bloom not, cruel wolfsbane
In this forward spirit of mine
Let the moon dim and wane
For love has diseased my kind 

The girl was luscious in the wake
Rising at break of dawn
If only she knew I was a mistake
Before we made the bond

I grew fond of her everyday
And night gave me loathe and dread
My heart was weak, I couldn’t send her away
But fed in her desires instead

I kissed her in the forest of green
I had forgotten what I am
I gazed into those eyes, so keen!
A smooth and gentle lamb

 
One day I stopped to think a bit
My stomach wrenched and twirled
Through love I had lost my sense and wit
To a pitiful village girl!

Avoiding her best I could
I hid from beauty’s caresses
But again she found me in the wood
And so grew the obsession

But so grew the moon
And the waning was abstaining
Good night, wonders of the noon
With memories remaining

Alone I wandered in the cold
Knowing it was coming
The sky grew dark, the sun was sold
Behind the madness blooming 

Transforming! Changing!
My mind went all a blur
Rage deforming! Madness deranging!
I couldn’t think of her…  

The time was gone!
The night had come!
I thought I was alone
But then I saw her standing there
Pale and stiff as stone

I woke up that dawn sitting there
On the forest floor
And there lay she all bloodied and bare
The lamb that I adore!

The wounds I found were like a gift
I know they were from my girl
I’m glad she fought her will to live
As I blindly devoured her

An honorable lamb with bloodied hooves
She’ll never leave my vision
Sacrificed for ravenous wolves  
And no cry for jurisdiction 

 Bloom not cruel wolfsbane
In this forward spirit of mine
Let the moon dim and wane
For love has diseased my kind 

-an oldie , hehe
For Pd's Contest : )



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Signing Off

--Goodbye--To my Addiction-

The time has come to part,
I will leave many with broken hearts
If one day you call on me,
I'm sad to say I will hold my tongue missing each one relentlessly 
I'm not doing this for me; I am doing this for you
I could stay here and win, and not give in 
But, this soup bowl comes with demons and nasty shadows
Demons and nasty shadows, taking and crashing my light
Demons I had to fight off the entire time I was here
Shadows hating the way I welcomed every poet with a happy cheer
Demons and shadows whom drown in their selfish everyday pity.

For those smiling on my departure, 
I want you to have this wonderful gift 
So please copy paste this moment from the bottom of my heart
**I hope this gift brings you laughter, knowing 
I've been sad, these past few days, drying up my final soup tears**

I will miss this part of what makes me ME -my love and lust for poetry.
I agree with many I should never surrender to the envy of demonic dust
Giving up the passion that completed a part of my soul for years
But, the reality of life, is the life's I give and given when I make love happen
In my heart I know it's time to give myself back to reality
SO AT THE END I WIN, I'm the one who ends up with an everlasting smile
I'll finally be free from this place, where most treated me unfair & unkind
Free, from the negativity of the few who hide behind a dishonest disguise?

Wait until you notice your soup bowl's going stale
You will miss me, and I will miss you
But, my enemy will miss me even more
Reminiscing the times we spent hogging up 70% of blogs,
Arguing and fighting over not agreeing with many thoughts.
But, it was never the differences of opinions, it was more like---
Let's slay the Destroyer, a name like that should never be on top
So please know I am sad, and this is not the way I want to go
I'm not leaving you because I want to 
I'm leaving you because, the rumors are 
"The soup is better without the sweetness of the poet destroyer."
The only big thing about me -was my heart not my ego 
I never claimed to be the best; 
You're the one who claimed I am good enough
You took me in and returned my love
In ways others could and would not accept.
And for you my loving poet friends, and fans
I will walk away with my dignity/integrity; 
I can CARELESS IF I PLACE OR DON'T PLACE IN YOUR CONTEST
I guess I'm finally growing up 
In becoming the bigger/better poet.

Signing Off ---Love 
The Poet Destroyer


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I am he as you are me

When the night wind changes course
sending breezes from the north,
when farmer's fields lie brown and fallow
and empty ropes swing from the gallows,
when children's faces are drawn and gaunt
and earth-bound spirits wail and haunt,
when eagles scan the barren snow
and field mice shiver deep below,

The dragon stirs deep in his lair,
the townfolk sense him with despair,
the mountain rumbles as he wakes,
he spreads his wings, the valley quakes.

He snorts and breathes a sulphur fire
and eyes his cache with dark desire,
gold and gemstones line his cave,
a sea of diamonds with emerald waves.

The trees are black against the snow,
one warrior stands to face his foe,
chain mail clanking, his sword is honed,
he goes to face his fate alone.

Fire breathing, wing-spread vast,
the warrior is at first aghast,
the dragon's chest and stomach, too,
shine with gems of multi-hues.

He'd slept so long upon his loot,
he wore a jewel-encrusted suit.
He saw the warrior's weapon glint
and chuckled at this innocent.

The dragon swooped and breathed his breath,
the warrior smelled the scent of death.
Many times the dragon dove
and set aflame the fields and groves.

Lost in this game, he gave no thought
to the warrior who mattered naught,
and as the dragon flew by low
the warrior drew his mighty bow.

The bow and arrows were Elfen-hewn,
inscribed with words in ancient runes.
The warrior held his breath and aimed
and steeled himself against the flames.

The dragon saw the arrow cocked
and turned his head, their eyes were locked.
The arrow's flight was straight and true,
into the dragon's eye it flew.

The warrior was elected king,
he wore fine jewels and heavy rings,
but though he tried, he found no peace,
he'd formed some strange bond with the beast.

The corpse was plucked clean of its jewels
and all the people danced like fools,
though he was king of hill and glen,
they never saw him smile again.


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Door o' Green

 
Door o’ green The door of green it stands ajar, I enter here in a dream, so far, A rough hewn table, here it sits, Big yellow candle splutters its, An ancient room, of meditation ….. As I look about the ancient room, A figure seen within the gloom, Svelte of body, bosoms loom, The sweetness of creation, She comes to me with loving eyes, No words are needed, sobs or sighs, And pressing close, and locked of eye, I hold this incarntation, The sudden chill of nipple freeze, The points are made with subtle ease, What can I do but play on these, No words of explanation? Moving closer within her thighs, I trace her form, though things do rise, Her bosoms rise, in breath caught size, Inpaled by the situation, I try to leave, she says don’t go, The fire is burning me, you know, Till passions fire has had to blow, Exhaustion’s generation, The magic place behind the door, Where love does wait for me and more, Fantasy says, yes me explore, A mental apparition…. Don Johnson


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Love Story Gone Wild

when beauty met the beast
she was a cutie, he was a beast
she thought that she'd speak to him at least
and at least find out what made 
a beast, a beast

as the beast looked at her 
he wondered; what a feast
but the way she spoke to him
was gentle and curiosity increased

he found her some what pleasant
and laid his aggression aside
for now he'd grown accustom
and hoped she would abide

as time past he looked at her
as he never did before
tender conversations
brought his knees to the floor

she'd become his weakness
his task forever more
he liked to hear her voice
and see her walk through the door

on holidays there were presents
on birthdays a feast
each special day that brought her presence
was a holy day to say the least

now i am wholly human 
and i can tell you well
that jealousy fits us humans
and beast very well

one look at competition
can take us all to hell
we can never avoid perdition
when one other than God
we our souls sell

and from God comes the testing
old men and prophets tell
the beast asked God for patience
and God knows how to teach it well

the next time the beast see's beauty
there is a ring on her hand
he didn't care to mention it
but that was one thing he couldn't stand

worn down he ask her
what the ring meant on her hand
slowly she confided, it meant she'd
marry another man

the beast now was furious
he did not understand
that all these years confiding
he was suppose to be the man

what then would become of her
his conscious did demand
all the years he spent with her
were coming to an end 

yet love had one more service
his heart would command
tell the maid he loved her
and ask her for her hand

let all the powers of wickedness 
and goodness take their stand
upon this maids answer
i'll bravely take my chance


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The Rabbit and the Fox 20 line Ballad

~~ The  Rabbit and the Fox   ~~  20 line Ballad
The Rabbit and the Fox
The Rabbit and the Fox are here
go down south, to Australia
They have a bounty on the Fox
Bring in his skin they’ll pay ya

Myxameatosis germ warfare  (first ever)
Just for the Bagman's bunny  (our ww1 war crazed soldiers lived on rabbit in solitude)
Old Rabbit got mattry eyed 
It really wasn’t funny

Great depression in the 20s
We lived on lovely rabbit
skins made the Slouch hat
Our soldiers wear, our habit  (fur felt made the hat)

The master took the Rabbit   (Squatters said plague) 
No more free feeds for us
So we started eating of his sheep
Become a bit nonplussed

They brought another virus out
To kill off outlaw rabbit
But bunny still gets about
The Fox your hens will have it

Don Johnson  


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Dullahan Rides

Walk with me in the dank moonlight
through the chill, rising, storm
so we can grasp the majesty
of Dullahan still born.

Without heads his horse and he ride
across the countryside
His head in hand they roam the land
none live where he abides.

A rush of blood, a gory spree 
will take the sight of man, 
then off they gallop wild and free
Dullahan, head in hand.

Here’s hoping he don’t call your name
for that would be worse by far  
your soul would flee and fly with he
a soul as black as tar.

Carry your gold for I am told 
this alone does he fear
and we can watch as he rides by
come give us a kiss now, me dear.

The winsome lass took his strong hand
and down the lane they walked
as in the distance hedgerows fired
and hooves clapped as they talked.

The sound drew near, a gate flew wide
the lassie shrieked and ran 
so only her randy lad was 
taken by Dullahan.

So, don’t think to woo by moonlight
near the shore in Galway
Dullahan hunts with cruel sight 
each wayward soul a stray.

*While no-one knows for certain how the Dullahan originated, it is thought that he is the embodiment of the Celtic fertility god, Crom Dubh, who was worshiped by an ancient king of Ireland, Tighermas. Each year, Tighermas sacrificed humans to Crom Dubh, and the usual method was decapitation. The worship of Crom Dubh ended in the sixth century, when Christianity came to Ireland. 
* music in About the Poem

Poet: D. Guzzi


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Big

Big n hard well babe its been big n hard, the dumb retard? wants planting in pleasures planting pot, or bring some stole viagra, just in case its not:) get a keeper maybe should, enhance his mood, stiff as wood, the blood flow enterprising, could be bloody mystifying, as any phallus should, yet babe im shagged, deflated bags, me ball bags teste-fying, get back you baitch, can’t have an inch, bo-didly aint supplying… Don Johnson


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Pain

of suffering deep, tween pain and asleep, and the curse still lingers like crime, a fiendish mind wheels, still turning out deals, and slip-sliding thoughts to begrime, get back in your box, un-sweet albatross, begone to the nethers of mind, bad voices are still, mourning their loss, in spirit i'm doing just fine, got a grip on its throat, never mind, bad thoughts continue to gloat, yet the battle is mine, bloody mine... of: p.d. "Cronic Pain" Don


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passion

hot n steamy is the night,
when erotic fantasy takes flight,
below a moon of fullness bright,
when passion rears and forms my dear....


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chocolate covered cherries

and smitten with her moist entwine, he savoured like the red, red wine, as passion engulfed the post, she was the surely most, till oblivion unwinds.... and he gave up his ghost, and a sympathetic mine, no lesbians this time, but that gets on your Goat, till next head butting time, he kissed her subtle throat, and it began to climb, no not the Billy goat, intercourse aint a crime, chocolate covered cherries are the toast:} the heat remained sublime, dem cherries are the most! Don re Debbie Duncan "chocolate covered cherries"


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Angels

the ever helpful angels, we meet along the way, ones who will pick you up, till you are happy, bloody aye, boot the black dog up the Kyber pass, and the mongrel whines away, depression knocked off, on its asss, when the angel comes your way, take the world by scruff, yer tough enough, be happy bloody aye, let the inner spirit shine, plum duff, is all that johnson says... Don Johnson


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Red of fire

Red of fire Reddish fire in place of loins, Fiery hell to thee enjoins, Kundalini coiled it waits, until, Opened doors the chakras willed, Enjoined to feet of clay. Orange door is very bright, Growing larger orange sight, Fill your mind yes until, Strength of purpose is your will, That’s right. Yellow blossoms brightest day, Cast the very blue away, Brighter still to make you blink, It be written, don’t let it shrink, The spirit is in play. Green of heart the healing mill, Help your fellow man until, The darkness gone, from night, Lift spiritual from the blight, enjoin the great God’s will. Blue of throat the hearing feel, Sound of others gone, revealed, Light blue veil is unsealed, Therein, within the night, Hearing is our right. Purple smoke the eyes beheld, Image seen, ding dong the bells, Danger comes as seen ther-in, In the purple flashes dim, It is your birthright. Kundalini seeks the light, From top of head a glowing white, Understanding fruit of gall, Aura glowing nine feet tall, A spiritual delight. We do have these swirling chakras, these spiritual devices… Don Johnson


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Cousin John

War is such an awful thing, insanity can sometimes bring, like my cousin the zippo man, who burnt the huts the squealing and, came home and shot himself... poor John was damned...by Vietnam. sad and true and tears the heart, war is deadly, the aching part, they go away, do not return, just leave living heartache burns, no delight...Don Johnson


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Sperm Whale Dementia

Sperm Whale Dementia. Here I am an old Sperm whale, A swimming in the deep, Sucking on the Crill, inhale, As fearless I do leap. And then I come to surface, And clarity does seep, Dementia nursing home this place, Me poor old bones do creak. Back beneath the water, A swimming in the deep, Happy as a tadpole, More Crill to maybe eat. Back up to the surface, Who is that woman here, She says she is Molly Brown, A rellie so sincere. So come visit sweet Molly Brown, I may be far away, Or surfaced with a puzzled frown, A sperm whale here today… Don Johnson 22-aug-11


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Pig a billa

Pig a billa Good tucker is ol pig-billa, Porcupine Echidna hey, Favourite food of Aboriginals, Has him own spears anyway, Track him cross the hot red sand, Which way does he go, today, Claws on his back legs are a pointing, Where he come from, there we say, Dead possum hanging oer the water, Maggots falling soon they may, Yellow belly sucks em sorta, Big ol Cod could eat em hey, Marbuk silent as a Gum-tree, Waits with fishing plurry spear, See the flash of yella-belly, see, Him on the coals to sear! Swish of killer boomerang, As the wild ducks leave the water, Pelted as a hundred swam, Got a Shag hook nosed just sorta, Break-em wing as it leaves the water, Bloody tough meat make you chew, Yarraman is a horse you see, Milinbri beast of cattle, be, Crocodile he waits for you, Don’t swim where he will maybe chew, After the death roll kills you, oughta, Fresh meat ol tourist brought ya, To Cape York for interview. Ole Croc can get you too! Sidestep this frenzy slaughter…. Whatever ya bloody do. Ole Johnson the reporter …Don


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Brainwsh, Ann-Lise

Brainwsh Ann-Lise thoughts are deeds, words are the weeds, the mind collects sometimes, a salesman speaks to in your mind, hard sell his only crime, the pressure aint sublime... brainwash the deed, it chimes.... Don Jonson


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Silver strands

Tuppy Silver strands silver bands and the rings on her hands, Her hair was the colour of grey, Eyes far away, with the thoughts of her day, As her grandson an audience sought, I was there that day, with an empty head thought, just a boy, but loved this I say. As I looked at her troubled eyes, A Catholic she’d once been married, To a Church of England, man called John, so now she was surely harried, Excommunicated by a priest on that day, So she caught up a rifle, pulled off a few shots, Bounced bullets, as he was running away. The only pleasure to be got, Anyway. With polio born she couldn’t stand, But dragged herself onto a pony, She did eventually walk, But she walked in the path of the lonely.
Susan Burch Contest Name Silver Strands


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A Cowboy's Life

I didn't want to break your heart,
I had no thought of that at all,
When I told you I'd be leaving
Right after roundup time this fall.

A cowboy's life is lonely,
With saddle, bridle and his horse,
A bedroll just to keep from freezing
When he's wandering off his course.

Your own daddy is a rancher.
He should have warned you from the start,
Should have cautioned you to never
Let a cowboy win your heart.

I'll be heading to the south lands
Until some wrangling work I find,
Didn't mean to fool you, Honey.
I didn't mean to be unkind.

If I had a stack of money,
I'd settle down, make you my wife.
Until I'm through meandering
I can't ask you to share my life.

Dry your eyes my little lady
And let me see that pretty smile.
There will be another cowboy
Who will outshine me by a mile.

If you find one with a bankroll
Who can afford a little spread,
Get your lariat and rope him,
Forget about these tears you've shed.

I'll be thinking of you, Honey
As I travel across the range,
But this cowboy is a rambler
And I expect I'll never change.

Placed 2nd in Ballad contest


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what is real love

What is real love ?
Should it be plain like a cow ?
Or furious like a bow ?
Or with results for what you sow ?
True love is affection
Real love is determination
Actual love is your close connection
Promising love is your reflection
Outward loves never succeed
Inner loves never have greed
In the case of true lovers
Never do things of cowardice
The world is a stage 
People do unwanted things in a fit of rage
Fill your heart with pure love
Be peaceful like a dove
True love does not need inspections
Only your lovely rhythm sections
If people really love 
They should have done anything for their mourning dove ...
NO! they did not
So what is the meaning of tying a Knot ?
The present world should understand its meaning 
Or else they would be left whining
What is the reason of family disputes ?
Its nothing but the partial love of family members
People are now blind on gods
They do not understand that love is god
O pretty nature 
Why are people not mature
They talk about it
But never understand its meaning - even a bit
O lovely animals
Why are people innerly criminal
All god say love all
Why do their followers say everyone is false before your eye ball
O blue sea
Please answer me
You watch us daily
Tell me - why this discrimination really
O long sky 
The place where birds fly
You always invite so many birds 
But why people , who have come from you see some as different herds
Tell me O green forest
Tell me ...
Why do we practice inequality
Why , even after when we got freedom and liberty 
If people do not feel love
I would not be able to feel even the glove
Friends..... 
Love all , Serve all
That's what I can say
Even after you , I and the earth - all lay .......


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Ballad of Dreams: One: Beneath the Realm part one

Beneath the realm of Reality
Lies a secret- a world of fantasy
Feasting my eyes upon the faded stone
Delving into a vast world of the unknown

Whispers dance in the curling fog dancing amongst the dead trees
Murmurs of those who have long passed, float against the breeze
Passing the large tree, the gate surrounding the stoned castle
A slender inhabitant, dazzles my mind, his speech facile

Shall I trust this unknown creature, from this the unknown world
His arms, his...tendrils, curl...and around me swirled
My thoughts-he knows them-for he and I are entwined
Further into the dead woods I wonder, a sense of fear encompassing my mind

A bubbling stream I faintly hear, as further I go into the forest
The watery grave seeming to get closer, it's symphony-a chorus
Entranced I follow this fellow into the unknown
Closer and close to the stream i go, further away from the grey stone

Above the lines of fantasy
This, has become my reality
Dreaming-this land I return, once was I lost
But now here I am at home, everything quiet and soft

I search for you amongst the dead
And there, standing behind those gates is cloaked figure-hood on head
I wonder who this master of mystery is, but he soon disappears
A blink of my eye he is gone, and I have not seen him again in years

I search once more for you, my fiendish friend,
But soon I fear you have left me here-to come to my own end
I do not wish to wake, I do not wish to leave this place
Soon I come to spot your featureless face

The King of fright, so tender towards me
Showing me, when I lost my way so long ago, out misty dead trees
But I could not stay away, I wanted to see him again
And thus he promised to return to me again

That forest land I wish to see once more
But I have lost my way, trapped in a darkness forevermore
Kept away from what I so desperately yearn for
To return to that mysterious home I adore


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Green door speaks

the green door speaks, the hinges squeak, candle large of yellow streaks, of black smoke oil of dreams, do enter there, my beauty rare, to see me enter yeah, the rough hewed table seems, to resurrect the scene, and love is in between, the table and the chairs, a shelter so serene... Don This Green door place is inner space, A darkened room of dreams, A place an state to meditate , To focus mind, to see, Be in another time an place, Where thoughts an dreams can be, A mental time surreal in space, Across the mystic sea


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3 holes Hut on Cubbie

3 holes Hut on Cubbie Yep me an Sow the wild pig were, Under the low set hut, yessir, I was 12 months old, I be, Nappies were short, so I had none see, The piglet kept me clean, Did he… The old hut is now a fallen down, Where piggy an I would wriggle around, I only came out, when she needed to see, When mama fed the fat piggie, Then I’d crawl and bound, 1946 I say it was, under the one room hut of cos, we had no lectricity, and cooked outside under a tree, brown boredrain fed the pig an me, till civilized I got because, I needed to be, Tommy Hook he came to me, A lousy Jack, one legged he, Noisy family bird was, see, Great chatterer, quite featherly, A talker of the bush, We came there by sulky, with an unbroken horse, it had the blinkin blnkers, to maybe force, it not be frightened see, by the sight of a close sulky, across the watercourse, so harnessed up and circling free, at the canter it, came round for me, when mum threw me up by force, an poppa caught me in the sulky, one hand was free, I got caught, she sprung aboard next circle brought, and off sailed the family, to old Cubbie, yet of course, to the stink of wet Gidgee, after rain, the smell so coarse… Don Johnson Yes Joe...8 Yes at a year old i needed a friend, so a wild piglet came and then, was a pet of the family, brought by my pig chasing dad for me, from a brood that an old Sow had when, he found em in the thin Lygnum bush old friend, in the shade of a Gidgee tree...


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Barefoot

Barefoot

Off to school and then go barefoot,
in the 50s running wild,
Elvis was singing blue suede shoes,
Used to listen all the time.

Bare foot out a playing football,
kicking, stinging poor old foot.
Bindi’s, Goatheads , sometimes stinging,
Ignore the pain an counter, boot.

Bare foot rolling in the black mud.
Parents couldn’t tell to call ,
were we black or whiter  kids. 
Mud covered as it did,
mud covered us all.


Francines' Barefoot


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Tiger

caged like a Tiger in her way, passion, power, sensual hey, do not cross the one in stripes, she will rip ya, tear ya like sliced tripe, dodge sidestep, swiftly run away, or p.d. will have her way, ace of spades, delight, surreal, wake in fright, death comes swift they say.... thanks p.d. 'Tiger in a cage' Don


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Re : Ring of Power

Re: Ring of power Ring of power enhances it, Gives it volume quite a bit, bigger, a nice snug fit, give me all, don't u quit Obsession comes when you hit gold, big and hard: I'm sold! If you want him big n bold, Warm him just a bit, Get the right size ring, to fit, As strong as days of old, interest sure relit. Struggling guys wear the ring, Too keep it hard, its just the thing, Not too tight on the dingaling, Adjust to size and passion, Enhanced by more tongue lashing, Home truths for passions pit, The keeper ring will do its bit. Keep up the good work. Don, Ralphie Sue....


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Enthral

Sometimes users do enthrall, and take advantage, its their call, but judgement waits, on another date, their persecution, is their fate, thats all... Don Johnson
Carol's poem :)


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Undertaker blues

reminds me of the funeral job, at the morgue 40 tables, i logged, one of a hundred jobs id see, blood n guts an misery, macarbe on mentality... but id come to get ol Marge, suspended on 3 chains, was large, stiff as iniquity, came flying though the air, 6 feet up without a care, no bloody dignity, as naked as a Jaybird she, but death had set her free, as she said to me... re:"While Waiting At The River Styx" Terry O'Leary Don Guys at the morgue like to shock ya, so i get this naked lady zooming towards me suspended on 3 chains attached to rollers on the ceiling...one under the neck, one under the waist, and one under the ankles..a shock to the system... as i come in the door...the tables 40 were all occupied with the grim reapers handiwork...