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Narrative Fear Poems | Narrative Poems About Fear

These Narrative Fear poems are examples of Narrative poems about Fear. These are the best examples of Narrative Fear poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Narrative | |

My Heart Sobs

I'm till struggling to connect with you...
It feels strange that you are actually here, and so near..
You...walked past me a couple of times,
Your eyes were glistening, sober, serious...
Rushing by as if something deathly important lie ahead
In that moment, I could hear my heart thrashing in my throat
A victim in a prison, desperately closing those eyes from the fear
Wanting...to reach out to you....
But not knowing how...

How will you ever know the tears I have shed?
How will you ever see the love and care in my eyes? 
Maybe we will never know what we could be...
Maybe I am lost in uncertainty's sea

But, please...
Don't walk by me...
No, not anymore...
My sorrowful soul holds its breath when you do...
And when you are gone again...
My heart sobs...


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IN TOO DEEP

I joined the Brownies when I was seven Oh what fun I was in seventh heaven Having fun and making new friends But in the Brownies my life almost ends We were doing badges - this particular one was for swimming I wasn’t a strong swimmer and was having lessons We sat on edge of the baths in our costumes and hats Then we had to swim along the side of the middle of the pool To gain our badge we had to swim a width all the way across I’d only ever swum in the shallow end before But everyone else was swimming across… So I started off… got halfway across… And then I got into trouble Began to go under the water… Down Down Down I sank to the bottom of the pool Two men dived in to save me My parents were frantic They had been watching me ‘swim’ And were sitting upstairs on the balcony Unfolding before their very eyes Was their worse nightmare Thankfully these two men saved my life All I can remember was being rather ill at the side of the pool As the water came gushing out of me One memory I have is of being given chocolate buttons to eat on the way home AND I was awarded by Brownie badge – guess it was out of guilt I never did complete that width. Now I am scared of deep water If anyone asks me if I can swim… I say ‘yes’… like a stone! 11~02~14 Contest: Near Death Or Near Life Experience Sponsor: Anthony Slausen


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THE OPAQUEST NARRATIVE

In Michigan, the weather can change for the worst in October.
This particular Halloween came a blizzaring.
The lights went out and in a dark, dark room, candles were lit; therein, the opaquest 
narrative was captured.
* With the shape of With figment With look I will invent the human. Through the mind Via light With aspect The being I will project. I saw sadness. It stared directly at me. I gazed back. It begins to glare. I looked away. Why am I afraid? It is an ape, a primate. With child fists, I walked toward this apelike creature and strike out. Finally, I saw more than eyes and it pounces. It is a little child as a man. My hands represented some insight. Would we fight? ** The universe stood as earth. Solar we are to the sky above. Humanity shouts with a hoarse voice. Man, woman, and child stands as an echo. God sent the demons. The sinners are all of us. Through commandment of what Hell is Heaven is not. Demons are with God. The Pacific Ocean is the end of the world. It runs east and west. Why do we not investigate this? [Because our capabilities are limited!] Are we afraid of what we will find? We discovered each other and now we hesitate. Procrastination is a thing that delays knowledge. Are we wise to seek? Demons are with God. Are we? *** Body [body] {Body}! Gut (gut)! Skin and bones wake up! I am a reincarnation of that that is not known. Many have come before me but none was as I am. I am the body for the human to gut a man. However, women are now involved and they want to be in the belly. Instinctive they are but this was only for man to do. Why do they want to be that damned fool? Unconscious to the world that they are within, one would ask self why they want to be like men. The answer becomes to fit in. What if there is one left out? The answer becomes their bodies have been gutted and they are only GI. **** The Moon has no Gods. The Sun is what speaks to us. It tells us prophesy and what the world shall become. We are mongoloid, brown and bronzed spiritual to our existence. Our tribes are of North America. A hundred plus [we] stand[s]. Our land is our strength. We fought. We won. We lost. Died from disease but gave birth once again. Our population stands now and we are healthy. The European man has given our wisdom and knowledge. Our minds are set on our economic growth. We will become political minded. Five hundred nations are we those lost tribes of our history. ***** The mockery of man is a stance of incorrectness. It transforms through government and states that your freedoms are not anything to believe in. You, as people, are nothing but possessions and no one knows who is blessed. You are lucky to be here. Your way of life is given by our nation’s wealth. We are brought together as immigrants and the natives of this country are indigenous. We cannot pretend that we are more than that. We must pedestal ourselves to unity and know that people are only structure to adhere. One came for liberation. Others came via slavery. Nomads were unbound. They let them in yet they were said to be uncivilized. Today we are unified. We are the United States of America bound, bonded, and realized. {We are gratis; free to form our own lives.} ______________________________________________| PENNED ON SEPTEMBER 13, 2014!


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Evacuation and Loss

The night shone for the full moon,
Sky brewing a coarse monsoon,
Bolted were windows, locked were doors,
The frequency of death frighteningly soared.
But who was this infant high upon the hill?
He denied the storm and just stood stone still,
Eyes shut like blinds and fingers dug into ground,
Felt he could move no muscle, for was sadly street bound.
Shutting his eyes, arms wrapped tight round
His skinny body, battered and browned
Praying for the sake of friends, family and all
However imaginary, he imagined them call
 “Boy, come to us we love you most”
“Our love for you is bigger than the Canadian coast”
“Do not cry, remember our love”
Joining their gaze in the beyond above,
He softly mumbled a song to forget,
The once daily song that was always a duet,
Alone on that hill without any feel,
Of an afterlife he finally accepted, wasn’t real
Tears met the floor, now bathed in yellow light,
As lightning struck him too quick to fright,
Child lay on the floor, dismembered and black,
Though his mouth was smiling and his happiness had come back,
As re-joined with family, head held high, 
He waved his tortured existence goodbye.
Hugging his mum and his dad the same,
Somehow put an end to the incessant rain,
The natives emerged from their homes, safe and sound,
The boy crying for happiness at the new life he had found.
Soul peering at his body, dead at age eleven,
Holding family’s hands they could finally pass on and join heaven. 
The touch of their skin brought old emotion,
 Parents who were torn betwixt war and devotion,
A child whom they gave their best shot,
By train to board and bomb to not.
The grave of the boy with the electric crown,
Who carried a burden he couldn’t live down,
Stood proud in the yard of cobbles and stones,
For everyone knew those were a heroes bones,
When you look into the sky on a stormy night,
Remind yourself of the boy’s plight.
As he is the clouds that damper weather,
Out to protect his town, children altogether,
He wanted a life for them around,
That didn’t consist of being mentally wound,
A life that he could never possess,
But he did not bathe in spiralling depress.
Life is sacred, upon that hill,
Those cobbles and stones bring great goodwill,
For the sun only shines on that grassy land,
Still holding marks of the boy’s humble hand,
Some say that the yearly rain,
Is him up above, the tears of a chain.
The chain of the tears shed on that night,
Of the fear and happiness’ conventional recite,
Up above, being tucked under the covers,
Is a little boy with an injury he recovers,
Mother kisses his head and says her goodnight,
Father over bed, comforting a nightmare fright.
Drifting off, the boy could hear,
A little rhyme to calm his fear,
“Boy, come to us we love you most”
“Our love for you is bigger than the Canadian coast”
“Do not cry remember our love-“
The young man rose slowly in his bed,
Opened his eyes and smiled as he said
“I’m here”


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Night Angel

They needed help
Walking alone in the dark.
The man.
The child.
A broken down car.
The child frightened,
But not understanding
The terror
That would soon
Come her way.
Her parents petrified
That their baby was gone,
Agonizing
Over forbidden images
That crowded their way
Past ice cream sundays
And birthday parties
And wedding days.
A passer-by.
A doer of good deeds.
He stops.
He sees.
He looks into
the little girl's eyes.
Bravely
The girl speaks,
"This is not my dad"
And the coward
who took her,
He runs.
He hides.
The passer-by,
Believing he saved
A child
From a long, cold walk,
In reality
Saved a child
From a long, cold death.


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The Empty Tissue Box

My heart was in such pain
I felt like I was going to go insane
I just don't know what to do 
And my eyes full of tears that distort my view

I fell to my knees and felt the urge
My muscle tighten and pin needles struck me like a surge
My body was warm and with feelings so confused
My mind felt sadness had fused

I could not conquer my fears
I just sat down and fell into tears
When some close to you passes on
It felt like a warmth has gone

So I raised my hand towards a box that was empty with no tissue
I first was embarrass and had a little bit of issue
All my friends hugged me and said sorry for your loss
So now I cry in my bed and toss


April 14, 2013


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Darkness

My feet are cold; my tiredness lingers;
My back aches from stooping so low.
Dampened by the frigid water below,
I breathed warmth into my numbing fingers.
Again, I dipped my shovel into the coarse gravel
Of the stream dredging up with a gurgle
A mixture of pebbles and sand;
Into a bucket I poured it, firsthand.
In this wilderness I'm not alone, there's bear.
Mindful I am of the sounds around me;
A churning stream, rustling leaves, an elk groan,
Snapping twigs, anything that would put a scare
Or raise my hair. I looked around for a tree,
Somewhere to flee before darkness set in.
Not far from here, I spied a log cabin.
Into this stronghold I placed my supplies;
Nature's calm was just a disguise.
I latched its massive door; and bolted each shutter.
In its stone hearth, I started a fire;
Basking in its warmth worries melted like butter.
Outside, darkness enveloped the cabin;
Strong claws raked its walls peeling away its skin;
Relentless growling resonated through the dusty din.
Suddenly, I awoke huddled next to a glowing flashlight.
Shivering against the muddy walls of a beaver's lodge, 
I could hear the bear feverishly ripping 
Through the muddy grass, and the disjointed timbers 
Above me. Deep beneath the surface darkness arrived
Just, as my flashlight flickered, then died.




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Drowning in Fire


The flames are rising,  my fears have come alive!
Far away, are sirens wailing
I must decide….I must decide…
My head spins, my hands are numb
What to reach for?   What to grab?  
What desperate measure must I take? 
What treasure lost…would cause my heart to break?

I quake in fear…I scan my brain
I see embers burning, swirling as falling rain

Our documents? With taxes due…what will we do without such proof?
The doll I’ve kept from childhood? The crystal vase I cherish? 
The pearls that came from mother, or the photos of our family?
Letters from Dad, when he was far away,
       or satin slippers worn by baby…from way back when, or... was it only yesterday?


I’m calming down,…..
My breath is found,  for now I know that won't drown

Not in fire, not in fear….not today, not in sorrow….
What to take?….. Nothing!
For treasures clutched in trembling hands, are never really gone….
                                                                
I have had them all, and will take them in my dreams for tomorrow….


.......................................................
Inspired by the Contest: Last Chance
Sponsor: Kristin Bruni


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this was me

it began so innocently
we exchanged ideas on poetry
his art, the suffering he endured
he preyed upon my compassion
as he meticulously bided his time...

i felt safe as we expressed
our mutual love of words
i was excited, i was learning,
unbeknowst to me, i was his prey..

many months and thousands of hours, 
talking, reaffirmed my trust; faith in him
he shared his life, triumps & tragedies
i supported all he desired for himself..

i understood, i felt his pain, 
his drive i admired, he overcame tremedous odds,
became a doctor so others would not suffer as he had;
he baited me; the innocent and naieve one.

living life with no regret,
i chose to take a leap of faith,
he guided me, alleviated my fears,
of promises to cherish and adore me..

as a tiger waits patiently to pounce on his prey
i was oblivious to his hatred inside,
he was a master of manipulation
his mission - to destroy me..

i felt he was worth giving 
up all i knew to build a life
he so lovingly described to me,
little did i know, his words - poison..

america bound i left everything i knew; i loved.
the terror of his drunken rages, his icy silence,
the cruelty of his words stung like red hot coals.
what he admired most about me,intensified his hatred.

the vacancy in his eyes was terrifying, 
i was alone in a strange country, 
knowing no one, in a house, not a home, 
full of tension, rage, abuse; numb and in shock;
this was my reality..

with each painstaking day of living in terror
dreading his arrival, my fear reached new heights;
i had enough; i was leaving.
his rage increased, his words pure venom..

i was numb, shaking, fear drove me to action
he became desperate, i did not sleep 
for fear of never waking, his actions so terrifying
i felt a strength within, empowering me..

planning my escape, fear became my ally,
i reached the airport and did not stop shaking
until safely on the plane, doors shut, 
moving down the runway to take-off;
i wept, i crumbled, i collapsed.

jubilantly at home, i felt peace, safe, 
and soaked in the beauty of my freedom; my home.
it has been six weeks; i have flashbacks, 
terror still haunts me; i am determined 
to not let another change me.

i am healing and am grateful for every
moment i smile, smell a flower, witness
the marvel of each sunrise and sunset.
i am a blessed girl.

~this was me~ 


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Lover's Love Lesson


You’re the one who taught 
me the words “I love you”
without the fear of losing you
even though my biggest fear 
was that I always lose people close to me
you broke down the barriers
just to reassure me,
that we’re in this together…

You are the one that
always came back 
after being chased away
after being stepped on
you’re the one 
who embraced me when
we were both scared about the unknown
when were both scared of the fight that lay ahead 

You are the one who 
endured the pain with laughter
to stop me from worrying,
even on your worst days, you hugged me
and said “It is okay, I’ll be okay”
that’s all it took for me to know
that you’d never leave me
even apart, we’re still one…


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Just for Me

In the past I remember how things were so simple
When I was little my cheeks had such cute dimples
Looking back I remember how sweet I was as a child
When I think again my heart told me I was so wild
Yet, in time my simple choices was revealed as true as anyone
The reason I was the way I am today, I did things, to get done
Finishing lots of my undone ideas was so incredibly hard
So I figure my heart and choices should never hold in no bard
I never thought I would learn heart aches and pain
With such under statement I did things for no gain
I was a child who held true to what he has learned
But as we got older those kinda perspective would get me burned
When I made up my mind that people was not kind
I led myself in a confusion that I was blind
In the past I do recall that seeing is believing
So I was the one who stood their with friends leaving
Alone, I felt I did not belong, I cherish each person who knew me
I got older too see how the world works it stung me like a bee
The feeling of tingling ran through my vain
My view of the world and people who knew me was stained
Now I know they are out for their selves with no kind feelings
Life I know is just a joke because of who I hung out with seeing
Today as I look at the world it is in such shambles and astray
And rather fallow everyone I just walk away


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I am HIV - AIDS

I AM HIV/AIDS 

     
Saint Luke predicted me long time ago,
While the Book of Revelation warned you about me.
I am raging like a wild fire,
I am growling like a lion,
I have spotted you and I will pounce on you!
I am HIV/AIDS!

I attack people in all socio-economic and educational classes,
I cut across cultural and religious sects,
Graves and hospitals bear this testimony.
Despite significant medical accomplishments,
I remain incurable,
I am HIV/AIDS

From Africa to America, Australia to Asia and Artantica to Europe.
From  Cape Provinces to Limpopo and Mpumalanga to Kwa-Zulu / Natal.
From Bekkersdal to Grobblersdal and Makapanstad to Marabastad.
From Sun Valley to Sun City and  Mamelodi to Mametlhake. 
From Witlagte to Langlagte and  Suiwerskuil to Kromkuil.
I am reigning, I am HIV/AIDS.

Woe for the earth and for the sea,
Because I have descended in great anger to devour you!
I refer to you, who do not abstain,
I mean you there, who are not faithful,
And you here who do not condomise,
For I am HIV/AIDS.

Media has warned you,
Priests have preached at the top of their voices,
Politicians have cried loud,
Organizations and institutions have given you warnings,
But all these have come to naught,
Now I will kill you like flies, for I am HIV/AIDS

This is not news to you,
You will certainly catch me through unprotected sex,
Shared infected needles and syringes, contaminated blood,
And from an infected mother to her unborn child.
I then multiply in your blood, mercilessly attacking
Your defence system and leave you for the dead,
For I am HIV/AIDS.

You know this fully well;
You cannot catch me through
Sneezing, sharing toilet seats, coughing,
Or shaking hands with an infected person.
Behold, even if you are not infected,
You are affected by me, for I am HIV/AIDS.

Even though I am dreadful and mighty,
I will finally die and my heart is sore,
That will be when sense is finally knocked in your head,
That will be when you abstain from sex,
You remain faithful to your partner or condomise,
Remember, prevention is better than cure, for I am HIV/AIDS!                                                 




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The Cook and His Dish

Pity her as she cried 
On the floor, ragged, she lied
She's covered with odd bruises
And hell things on mind cruises

She was there left alone
Mourning for help at home.
Hungry and parched she was,
Hoping someone would pass

“Click! Click!”, the door knob sounds
At last someone’s around.
Who’s there? Who could that be?
At last! She will be free!

But it widened her eyes
Scared and again she cried
‘Twas a man who appeared
Went to her and she feared.

He touched her hair and said
“Hush! Hush! Just go to bed
Stay quite, don’t be a heck!”
And kissed her on the neck.

Poor girl, she just abide
To the man whom she feared
“Why is he doing this?
I’m his daughter, why’s this?”

In the bedroom they were;
Father started kissing her.
Poor lil girl can’t defy
If she speak up, she’ll die.

“Oh my Lord, please help me,
I can’t take it, save me.”
Said her mind as tears flowed
Grieving in pain; she moaned.

Then suddenly she smiled
From what she heard outside.
A sudden hope in her eyes gleamed
From something she perceived.


She heard her mother’s voice
"I'll be saved" she rejoiced
“A miracle for me
Lord replied to my plea.”

And the door opened
Mother saw what happened
Shocked and startled she was
Then screamed for help, at last!

Mother bellowed and slapped him
Outraged and said to him
“She is your daughter!
Why did you rape her?”

Then neighbors came
Naked -- poor girl was ashamed
Dazed and shaken they were
Staring at poor girl and her father.

Then two cops came along
Grabbed the father for his wrong
He panicked and dreaded
Denied all he acted

Livid and offended 
Lil girl stood and stated
“Oh yes, that man raped me,
Not just once but many times.” 

Then her father uttered
“My dish is my daughter.
I’m the one who made her,
So I should also taste her.”

Wretched from what she heard
She spoke not a single word
Woeful and quite, she sniveled
Suddenly collapsed and fell

At last poor girl’s now free
From nightmare and agony
Yes she has a father
But she’s his dish not his daughter.


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The Old Man

Up on a hill there was an old house and in it lived Abigail, a young lady without a spouse. One day her doorbell rang and she went to the door. There stood an old man, his head to the floor. He appeared scared and weak so she let him come in, for if she didn’t it’d be a sure sin. The old man smiled and gave his thanks, and she said, “Not to worry, there’s no need to thank.” Abigail and the elder talked for quite a long time. Sharing story after story, and soon drinking wine. The two became very good friends and laughed, and laughed ‘til night came to end. When the next day dawned, they went for a walk, down at the pond they decided to stop. It was frigid and misty, but they enjoyed the stroll because their friendship was warmer than the wind’s dreadful cold. As they stood in front of the calm, cool pond, Abigail asked, “Where do you come from?” The old man laughed a deep, dark laugh, “I come from the boneyard, the place of last breaths. I am the man, which many name Death.” The creeping old man then pulled out a knife and slashed Abigail’s throat before she could fright. Her life left instantly, her body grew cold, and the elder’s smile sparkled like gold. The pond was hungry and the old man knew that Abigail’s corpse would have to go soon. He tied a brick to both of her feet and tossed her away into the deep. As her body sunk into the watery blue, the elder stood there and felt renewed. Back on the trail the aged man went. Not a worry in mind, no remorse ever meant. He did what had to be done, to the grave his soul belonged. The elder approached another ol’ house. He rang the doorbell and waited, innocent as a mouse.


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A Spark of Hope

A little girl lost her home this year, for her, Christmas wouldn't be there.
Her family was angry from all the troubles, they simply couldn't repair.
Don’t bother us about presents her parents said, they were depressed by their fate.
With bitterness they said, you’d be lucky to have dinner tonight, or even a plate.
Life was harsh, nowhere to go, anger and fear had put their souls, in a terrible place.
The little girl had found no hope or joy, lurking near their old car, of late.
The car was their home, gas money was scarce, and with few places they could park.
Yes, their troubles had slowly extinguished, that precious hopeful spark.
Without that spark, they’d never find their way, from this terrible place of cold and dark.
And life’s darkness grew deeper nightly, as hope vanished under a reality so stark.
Even the very fiber of her family, seemed to be shattering slowly, slowly, apart.
The child felt alone here in this dark car, as sadness tried to engulf her little girls heart.
The future seemed filled with hopelessness, as shame and dread, were leaving their mark.
Embarrassment to be seen and turned away, made it hard for them to reach out, to restart.
But life goes on, and we can’t fear to rebuild, or the future will be hard to impart.
The girl suddenly declared there’s more to life, and she wouldn't let it conquer her heart.
She decided triumphs will come, and all will get better, if she held to that hopeful spark.
Seeing the desolation and anger here, she couldn't stay around, she had to get away…
So she climbed out of the car, and she walked into town, not so very far to stray.
She went and looked at the store windows, where Christmas was being displayed.
The music and people filled her heart, lifting her spirits, deep inside, that day.
She noticed a store, way down at the end of the row, on the next block, where it lay.
No one was there, it seemed lonely, and the darkness was again, spreading it’s decay.
She ran there in time to see an old man closing up, with sadness on his face betrayed.
What use were his goods, if no one would shop, or come down along his way?
The super store down the block, was daily making him lose more and more in the fray.
He could no longer afford to hire people, and the season had very little time, to stay.
As they talked the girl saw that she couldn't let the darkness take another, so she prayed.
Then she told the old man, if he’d open the shop, she’d bring customers down his way.
She added, she’d find reasonable workers, if her family could live upstairs, she portrayed.
First bring the customers, he said, and the rest will be yours little friend, he conveyed.
She had him put his best toys, as a contest prize, and to add lots of lights on the display.
He set a contest, “Winners-the best collectors for families in need” on Christmas Eve.
He put out a bright contest sign, but still nobody came to his end of the block, to survey.
So she had him call the Salvation Army, for a kettle, Bell ringer, and Carolers, who came 
Lickety split, their way.
Then she had him call a dear old friend, and farmer, to bring a tractor full of bails of hay.
Another volunteered his horse and sleigh, both, to see the city lights thru New Years Day.
This was a great idea, since the older drivers, could use the help, for their bills to pay.
The girl ran all over spreading the excitement, and to come see the prizes, his way.
The families suddenly started heading toward his door, and to those wondrous rides.
At that moment her parents came, and she explained what her hope, had improvised.
Her father talked a contractor into building a disabled family a home, to help advertise.
He could get a tax break; come to this store for supplies, and hire unemployed workers, he devised, so wise.
In the end, each night grew brighter, because of a girls hope, and heart-warming delight.
And the old man began smiling for the first time, in a long, long, time, starting that night.
All was saved, a home was found, and another built, as a sad little girl taught grownups to smile along the way… 
You might say, A Spark of Hope lit a candle, then a raging fire, which was burning bright by Christmas day.

The moral to my story is:
Never give up on Hope; it’s your best friend, as life brings its troubles your way…
Know that with time, a good heart, good will, and friendly ways… 
You can find God’s gifts again, if you don’t let the dark take you away…


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Scars Left Behind

Story of a boy.....

I was to go to bed at 8 that night
When there was firing at the door,
Heard mom gasp,"God save my son."
I had no idea of what was in store.
We ran to the basement and shut it tight,
Mom pointed to the passage where dad hauls in wood
Sternly commanded me to go
While still as stone there she stood.
The sinners banged the door hard,
Through the passage there was just room for me to fit
So I sat down and shook my head,
There was no way that on my mother I'd quit.
She looked at me in the eye and gave me a kiss
And said,"Darling please listen to me,
I love you so very much
As fast as you can, do get to daddy."
'I'll get Dad' I thought and started to crawl,
I had to hurry,the door had almost gave way too
Noticed a sharp thing in the way and stopped,
But mom, in haste pushed me through.
I yelped in pain as iron cut my arm,
But what hurt me more was the door falling with a 'thud'.
Scars on my soul left me nightmares for years to come
Mom's cries and final scream echoing as I ran in the mud.
Fifteen years later, in the same but better town,
I show my arm to my wife and say
"If not for these scars I was left with
I would be with mom today."

-Sadaf Syed


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A Naughty Little Girl

I sleep. The hours tick by mercilessly; unfilled, purposeless, full of potential "What to do? What to do???" I mutter, tumbling, like Alice, down the rabbit hole. My hands push down ballooning petticoats, careful not to show or touch anything. I twirl beneath the pile down comforters. The hours tick by crimson red and in the dream, the rose Queen shouts, "Off with HER HEAD!" An eyebrow is plucked whole from my face. It falls matted and to the ground leaving me, brow akimbo, surprised, and horrified. "What to do? What to do? What to do???" Half shorn. Half drawn. Half born? A painter's pallet appears before me. A brow is drawn… for me. Yet, the Rose Queen still screams on. "Off with HER HEAD! Off with HER HEAD!"


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World Economic Report, April, 2012

Fear feasts on our insides
And wrecks decision-making
Evil jumps in with glee
And another one loses trust

And another one down
And another one down
And another one loses trust

Evil grins
At what might have been
As another one loses trust

Housing fails
Markets, too
And countries follow suit

“Be afraid
Be very afraid”
Used to be a joke
But now it’s the match
That lights the glint
In Evil’s eye

Every day we’re fed
Too much detailed
 information
- Perhaps true;
Perhaps not -
With stated directives
To be
Very
Afraid


As Evil laughs
And Fear cavorts
Through our souls

With another one down
And another one down 
And another one loses trust

I will myself to turn off the media
Not to ignore the warnings;
But to avoid overexposure
To the cancer-causing
Smoking gun
Of fear




According to Article 37, Section 202 of the Code of Federal Regulation, the Congress states that “words and short phrases such as names, titles, and slogans; familiar symbols or designs; mere variations of typographic ornamentation, lettering or coloring; mere listing of ingredients or contents” are not copyrightable.
So thanks to John Deacon of Queen…


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Gun Shots

Sudden as thunder they crack in the night,
the boys in the lane leap over fences,
bottles crashing into stone walls,
and bullets whistle with echoing sound.


Political war,
Tribal war,
Gang war.
The boys fight with one another for the release of "the Don"
they rampage in the little town,
and round up all the informers.


Night comes alive,
doors open wide,
then suddenly,
"Lord, someone shot Sammi Joe!"

Lights bang!
and everyone rushes to look at the innocent one
lying peacefully in her pool of blood.

"Sammi Joe is dead!"
Her frightened mother yells.

Gunshots cracking in the night,
smashing glass,
and chiseling walls,
the burning night heat,
people scatter in the street.

Mr. Crow pisses his pants when the boys spot him as the informer
Dragged in the streets,
Crow's face flushed with the wall,
bullets puncture his head.

Further down the road,
the innocents grip tightly to their beds,
trembling,
wondering who will be next.

Bullets dances around the walls,
wailing heightens,
The massacre begins.
Blood washes the street,
dead bodies blocking the gate of the little town.

                                  ©2013 Christine Phillips


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A Soul Awakened

The warm light calls me
And all the people who cries for thee
I raise my hand in this abyss
Only to make one wish
To float among the others
With all my sisters and brothers
I call out for forgiveness with passion
I take their pain into myself for this occasion
The moment that I see the sky
I will not look back and cry
My body is laying still
People standing by it with a chill
The air gets dense with sadness
I would not think of it less
Some people look up and down
To see the light hit the ground
Some can vision the uplifting feeling they see
One soul that has been and always be
It is special to notice such aberration 
And that might be how souls are awaken


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My Hidden Fear

People are my weakness and hidden fear
I just feel that some words they say set me in tear
For example I gave a person a smile one day and they gave me a glare
I did not know that smiling in the world today cause people to stare
These types of stare gave me chills down my spine a feeling that made me blind
Why? why is my weakness the people who are very unkind
Hiding is all I can do when people give me a unkind view
I get to a point that my fear seems to wonder and stew
People are who they are and what should I even do
I don't understand that they are evil and some times nice too
My hidden fear are people just because they are always around
That is no argument and my feeling are perfectly sound
The hate builds up in my mind, but does not bother, how my heart feel
I learned to undergo a change that my feelings become like steel
Hard as it should be in situations needed I forget how to use it
So it becomes my weapon and it is to some people heartless just a bit
My hidden fear is what I see in people today
They harm others and they think it is okay
That is why I fear my feelings for others at times because it is so confusing
My hidden fear is some what bad and some what a blessing


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New Year- New Bomb Blast

     On December 7, 2013 a bomb blast killed former Lebanese Minister, Mohammad Chatah and several others. Less than an hour ago, another bomb blast took place in the Dahieh area in Beirut. My husband is away....my daughter is out at a friend's house, and I'm sick to my stomach of not knowing......where is safe, where can we go? This is the latest Post on FB by a student of mine showing a picture of the explosion. "New Year....New Bomb." 

     I'm tired of this. I'm tired of the rest of the world turning a blind eye. I'm tired of feeling guilty because I'm in my nice warm house and there are Syrian refugees living in tents. There are little children dying of the cold. I'm tired of hearing of the blood of martyrs being spilled. I'm tired of hoping and wishing for peace for this country and knowing....it will NEVER be. I'm tired.

    I'm tired of reliving fear. Tired of worrying about the safety of my brother who lives in the downtown area where all the political figures have their mansions. I'm tired of hearing him talking about some embedded glass shard working its way out of the skin of his face...even now. He and his wife were injured in the bomb blast that killed Prime Minister Rafic Hariri years ago, scarring their faces for life.

I'M TIRED OF THIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I AM TIRED...

Eileen M Ghali


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Squatches in My Mind

I know that you now reside,
In the tundra of my mind.

I know your eyes can see,
The decadent dangers inside of me.

It shoots ice straight through your spine.
Knowing what the foliage of my mind,
Can do to make you squatches whine.

You let out a hideous wail.
As your face begins to pale.
Your cerebral cave of jagged shale,
Slowly crumbles, starts to fail.

Your fear grows quickly by the hour.
As sinister daffodils take your power.
Of your recent kill, the meat turns sour.
As you realize this place, by far is fouler.

Your arms and legs turn to lead.
Your stomach flutters growing dread,
Your realizing the dangers in my head.
That my imagination has now fed.

Your lost in overwhelming splendor.
At the sight of my terrifying Render.
With her body supple and slender,
She burns you, through her eyes of ember.

You crumple to the floor, while crying.
As she floats forward, carried on undying.
She glances up, over shoulder sighing.
At the sight of sterling stars aligning.

Render:		“Hello hunter welcome to His wood.”

                         On wobbly squatch stilts you stood.

Squatch:	        “Who is His? If you would.”

Render:	        “His, is the creator of this wood,
		         And in here all evil and good.”

So you stand their patiently listening.
To the figment of my inner whispering.
To the startling revelation of your fears.
You are one of many monsters in here.
	


Entered in the Dreams Contest (Based upon a dream)
Comments/Criticism appreciated
03/19/13




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The Woman In White

It was a cold and rainy night.
The stars were shining bright.
It seemed as if the world was at a pause and not a person was in sight.
I sat quietly in my car, 
the sound of music I heard blasting from a far.
I opened my door,
stepped out slowly and looked around.
Now suddenly the music stopped,
not a word is heard, not even a sound.
I turned my head, looked over my shoulder,
I saw a woman running.
She was wearing a white gown.
I couldn't help but wonder why this woman running
flaunted such a frown.
I followed her footsteps,
I listened for the sound.
Running through the darkness,
one question came to mind,
Who would leave this woman?
Who would be so heartless?
How can someone leave her when she is so obviously distraught?
Abruptly a sound was heard.
I came to a stop.
I listened closely.
It was a gunshot.
Now fearful I stood.
I began to run as fast as I could.
I ran so fast, I could hear my heart beating.
I came upon my car and noticed a woman bleeding.
She was gasping for air.
Someone had shot her and left her to die there.
It was as if they didn't even care.
She reached for my hand,
whispered softly to me
"never trust a man"
At that moment her hand dropped.
I knew her heart had stopped.
I looked at her white gown now dripping red.
I I cried to myself and pondered what she had said.
This could be me.
I could be lying here dead.
I will remember her words always.
They will haunt me for the rest of my days.
This moment I will never forget.
No man should ever be such a threat.

This was the day my life would change.
From this day on I would never be the same.
The lesson I learned here,
never have such fear.
Fear that will keep me from being free.
I learned that I can be happy just being me.


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My Story Telling Can You Trust Me

Gun fire all around, bombs going off in the distance
It was some of the angry mobs and resistance
Father was the king of SafeHaven a small kingdom
Like all other kingdoms it fell in random
Fire started in the castle
And along with it came a battle

It was a distance memory now because the child has now grew
Many things in this child that made memories stew
My name is Mastrey, a young orphan who was there that night
Mastrey saw her in the distance and her father and mother in his sight
Everyone was loud that night and made all the children hide
But that evening Mastrey saw her mother and father die

She ran into the bushes in such a fright
And evil doers were running around with flashlights
Mastrey remember it as he distracted them 
Her eyes was so confused with problems
Mastrey new that it was because of what just occurred
His feelings of what those people did was not awkward

The distraction worked, he went back to were she was
Hiding and very scared she was, he asked her, can you trust me just because?
Her answer that night depended on her lively hood
As Mastrey was their with his hand reaching out to her as he stood
Pulling her up from the ground he looked into her eyes that were SeaBlue
Mastrey had made a life long friend and love, She knew it was true

Next: My Story Telling,  Who is this Princess


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Noises in the Night

One cold night, deep in thought, and curled in fright,
From folklore tales aimed to scare;
My rigid poise froze to a screeching noise
Outside, a voice not like I've heard before, to leave I would not dare
“It’s probably just an owl or creature of the night out there"
I muttered to myself, then pretended not to care

Oh, I recall quite vividly this icy Winter’s night
With grainy sight, the sandman came to lead me to his land
The weariness I fought but eventually he caught
Pulling me quite taut to somewhere far less bland   
Where I became the leader of a marvellous brass band
And down that path sandman tightly gripped me by my hand

Trumpeters and trombone players played musically in layers
Exciting each and everyone, spreading joy to all around
But my dreams were playing tricks, my mind was in a mix
The bass tuba sounded sick, not playing tuneful sounds
Instead a grating shrill, then the whining of a hound
The lightning and the rain came too, my dream then ran aground           

Alone I grew more frightened and the intensity just heightened
The shrieks and shrills grew louder with an occasional thunder clap
Taking sanctuary under bed sheets, preying for melodic sound beats   
Suffering this painful feat, my soul took a massive slap
Oh how I longed for it to stop and to return me to my nap
The bleakness of that night, my mind caught in a trap

Morning later broke, the ground outside was soaked
The noise had faded but there was still a haunting in my ears
A crunch, a grind, a squeak a whine
The cause I vowed to find, and to take away my fears
From the upstairs window I saw a farmer crouched in tears
And a windmill's broken sails; the mystery closure neared

Across the muddy field, I approached the man kneeled
Sobbing over what appeared to be a dead Alsatian
He'd found it just lying there, the hound, his best friend 
Downed by a falling windmill piece, killing gods creation
"A slow death" the farmer said "he must have cried out for attention"
"And my mill cranks broken causing noises of a nauseating sensation"



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The Well

A well of crystal clear water, untainted potentiality 
Dug deep in the ground by a house of motionless morality
Refined, dainty dwellers of the house were abounding
But howling winds of doubt on the door came a pounding

The winds brought dark clouds of fear and foreboding
Faith, hope, truthfulness and fidelity have begun eroding
Whence the warlike, wailing winds came there is no telling  
But once the whispers began, of them there was no quelling

The master of the house was enticed and by fear persuaded
His judgment faded and the cosmic for the telluric he traded
Promised he was nothing, perhaps mere elemental existence
But with blind persistence he thirsted for his own subsistence

“Drown your past, smother your pride, and stifle your dignity,
The price for your precious prize will be a mark of infamy”
One by one the master sacrificed and slaughtered his brood 
Lifeless, they were all thrown in the well after being subdued

The water once crystal clear turned murky, opaque and dim
Existence to the master was granted, but life became grim
He stands by the well, peering into the bottomless, abysmal pit
Forever thinking to undo this unhallowed story he`d writ


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into the wedge

There are some things, we will never forget


....

the sound of a phone call, still rings in my ears
squeezing my chest.....squeezing my chest...

the sun was sinking low, into the west
along with my heart
cold, under a blood-red sky

as we drove into the wedge of dusk
on the edge of our seats
in a frozen state 
on that icy slope
I was holding my breath in the liquid silence
coping........not coping
engaging in warfare
of knowing, without really knowing
how to hope, ...or what to hope for

but deep down
already knowing, the war was over...

my torso was rocking
without my control......forward and backwards
a life of it's own
a balm for raw nerves, I couldn't calm down
something to do, something to do
knowing, but not knowing
be hopeful, or be resigned?
coping? not well
 ...knowing, but not knowing

yet, somehow fearing
the war was over....

-

on that night that would change all...

he clung to the wheel......I clung to the seat
we clung to our prayers, but what was done, will be done...
what is gone.....will be gone

as we drove into the wedge of night
watching the moon replace the sun without remorse
we stayed on course, without a word between us said
but a slither of light on the horizon
filling my head with visions of birds on the wing
flying into the clouds
like a sign
as a shroud
taking my eyes
taking my hope
taking the doubt
taking instead
my own resistance
to what I already knew
it all
meant

what was done....will be done
what is gone....will be gone
losing hope....is losing hope
the war was over...

what is left 
we must accept




_________________________________


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The Forest

The Forest

I walk through an ancient, gloomy forest.
Everything is shrouded in a dark fog,
flowing over the contours of the earth.
Uncertainty floods my mind, warping what I see and hear.
In the distance, an owl faintly asks his question.
I spin around, again and again. 
Faint padding. The cracking of a twig.
Wind howling, fear takes my head. 
A flash of grey, gone as if never there. 
I flit about, glancing this way and that…
A faint moon reveals my horrors.
A half dozen wolves, grey and black,
crouching before me, ready to snap. 
I stumble away, my back now against a tree.
They close in, readying themselves. 
I unveil my dagger, but to my dismay and distress,
the wolves are like no other.
Transforming on spot, into those whom I love, 
I think, “Am I strong enough for this?”
Before I conclude, they strike with speed.
And before I conclude, my horrors are gone.
Before I conclude, I’m hearing Death’s psalm.


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VIOLATED

 HELP! HELP!
 She is sinking,
 Sinking into the abyss of despair.
 Her brain is striken And her mind is stifled.
 She has been enervated.
 Her integrity is being manipulated,
 Irrationality acts as spring board to moral decadence,
 Opacity then entangles her efficiency
 While her eminence sleeps.
 She became vulnerable.
 Poor thing, she is raped, maimed and looted.
 Has she not been violated?
 Does her plight warrants a revolution?
 However, she demonstrated.
 She shrilled,
"No!", "No!"
 She pleaded with her predators.
 All these were to no avail
 Her future seems gloomy
 As the predators succeeded in orchestrating yet another tragedy.
 Engulfed in this evident realm of adversity.
 She sits and ponders
 With tears flooding her miserable cheeks.
 She then cried,
 HELP! HELP!
 I am sinking,
 Sinking into the abyss of despair.


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My Story Telling Who is this Princes

The night air made her feel tired
As she looked out side all the fences were wired
In the distance she hears crowds yelling
As she was to young to know they were rebelling
Father she asked where are we going?
Mother said to keep quiet and keep walking

Mother yelled in the night air
Father gave out a blank stare
They yelled run my princess run as far as you can
As that moment past her little feet pushed off and she ran
She ran to the nearest bushes and crawled into it to hide
She never smelled the air before as if someone just had died

As she lay on the ground under a bush she heard 
A loud yell in the distance almost to absurd
My name is Angelica, I am just a young girl who does not know 
Angelica just wants to live her life with help to grow
Angelica did not know what just happened she notice a figure in the distance
A little person just like her, a strong but gentle presence

Angelica saw the people who were shouting run off toward the voice
She was scared and she knew that she had to make a choice
Angelica fragile state was so confused and lost
She knew it will take burden on her at a cost
But in that moment of quietness a young but strong voice called out
Can you trust me just because? will you come with me with no doubt

My Story Telling  Together In A Strange World


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Physically and Mentally Abuse

I was born in a world of poverty and soiled life of a third world country
The way I lived till I was five years of age was walls of boundary
These walls had towers of guards that had no heart or care
If a child would try to climb the wall they lose their life I swear

Father had drank and threatened my mother with a knife
My father lost his job and wife and that was the hardship of life
He stopped my mother from taking off with me in her arm
Hoping that my father would ignore and left me be with no harm

When my father went off to drink one night and came home with rage
My brothers stood by my crib and took a beating that set up the next stage
My father had woken up to three scared children half starved and in pain
His final words as he walk away from the orphanage gate live life do not go insane

I was still a baby in the orphanage; the caretakers did not really care about the babies
They stole items and materials those wicked men and maternal evil ladies
They starved all the babies because it cost a lot to keep them alive
As a child of that age I could feel the sins and greed that gave out bad vibes

I was ignorant about what I drank and ate, as I see white maggots move in my bottle
As I see them move I thought about how they were playing and some were hostel
They ate each other to keep each other alive in a manner that took me by surprise
In the back round I hear others throwing things with sounds of painful cries

I got very strong at a young age I was able to start pulling myself up over the cage
My feelings were to see my brothers with strong lungs that I cried out of rage
My two brothers came to see me and sneak food into my crib
The caretaker would find the food in my hands as they grabbed it and hit me on my ribs

As painful as it was I kept eating the food with blood in my mouth as it was instinct
I sometimes laid in my crib dazed and confused with smell of death so distinct
With all my might I kept myself strong and climb the small wall
I finally was old enough to get out of the building and I could hear my brothers call

With tears of joy with short legs that ran as fast as my heart
I ran to my brothers arms and held their hands to have a new start
I grew stronger everyday but more things came into my life in a manner of dismay
If my brothers stay by my side I could smile and everyday their would be okay



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Misty White

Distracting my skin from the icy mist,
The horn booms in the distance.
The black horizon glows,
The moon reflected from our grave. 

Misty white threatens to consume us,
Feet slip and rope drag against the deck,
Their voices grow louder as
Waterfalls of rain pour into the ocean,

My stomach grows as cold as the rocky face before us, 
They hold on for hope and I let go,
Too late to turn back, I welcome the mist,
And all hands are lost.


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Mask of Insanity

Mask of Insanity July 24, 2011
Masks are a masquerade between what’s real and things hidden behind them. 
Disguising one’s life behind ornate masks chances the fantasy and real mixing 
confusing the two. Mask can be beautiful and filled with dreams brought to life. 
What, when the mask becomes you and you the mask. Is this the mask of insanity?
 I wonder did I just say that out loud or was I thinking it? Why are people looking at 
me? Maybe they know I’m wearing a mask or maybe it slipped. I know someone 
called out to me; no I guess no one is there.  I am nobody, nothing at all. Have I 
now gone mad? I try to check my sanity as fear creeps up on me hidden behind my 
life full of many masks, confused and unsure; what mask if any am I wearing?
People and life continue to change around me. Changing mask often desperate to fit 
yet filled with screams, tears, and fear more often. Only these masks can hide such 
horror and mirror the fantasy from within. 
Insanity at times just under my mask waiting to expose me for the world to see! A 
masquerade of mask creating a fantasy filled life kept me from losing my mind. Being 
safe behind these mask left me not knowing who I am. Always in life I wore a mask 
not knowing what to do, now afraid I may be insane. 
Life has always hurt and distrust is all I know as pain and sorrow filled my heart and 
soul. I put on a mask to escape, to live and fit in. Now I wonder is this another mask 
or am I Insane?
						Debbie Knapp


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How my life was transformed

I’m going to tell a story now of a man who having served his time in a war torn country, but due to a very sensitive nature suffered from what they like to call ‘Post traumatic stress disorder’, he was like this for many, many years, with all the symptoms of anger, paranoid, fear and anxiety, and was impossible to live with. He had studied everything from self help gurus, to spiritual teachers to conventional counselling {that man was I} but nothing helped, I just got worse and worse, which ended up in me leaving home, and in the process throwing away every thing I had ever built up, that was half way decent. After a year I went back home, my tail between my legs, to try over. But no, I was still impossible to live with, and there was never any real peace with me around. I had tried every kind of meditation, self hypnosis, positive thinking, and nothing worked. The writing did help me quite a bit, but it was never enough.

Then one day I discovered on the net an American gentleman, named John Sherman. I went on his site, at no cost whatsoever And I heard what he said, when he told me one simple thing to do. He told me to go behind my thoughts and just look at me
The me that is there behind all the thoughts and emotions when everything is gone; The me one speaks about when he or she points to themselves and says ‘me‘. Now this seemed so simplistic to me, and I kind of scoffed at it, but I tried it anyway, because I was rather desperate to bring about some changes, and I had tried everything else. it was so easy for me, and I started to do it whenever it came to me to do so. This was four years ago now, and I have practiced what he said religiously.


Now, four years later I am a different being, the anger is gone, the misery is non existent, My fear of death is all but gone, and I feel like life is one big wonderful dance. If anyone has troubles of this kind and cannot lead a peaceful life… go to 
‘www.justonelook.org’ And let John and his wife Carla help you, there are no conditions no religion and definitely no payments to be made. Just felt I had to tell someone about the Sherman’s, because of what happened to me     Peter.


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love lost upside down

Love is to hard to manage/ when you not in love/ Too many false hugs and kisses does not make me happy too many cries/ you never acknowledged them/ Now what/ I suppose too do for a Encore/ I use to pretend that you didn’t affect me but you did/ too many heart- broken tears/ no longer buttered There no harsh feelings towards you/ you are the one that show me the way/ when I thought everything was great/you punish me with hate/ How I suppose to know what you was feeling/ when I was feeling different thoughts inside me?/You may thought you lost one/ but the karma is the one stay with you.

 

 Painful thoughts/ In my mind once again and again/ don’t known what too do/ don’t known what too say/ with you in my- mind everyday.


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Footprints

There lied so many footprints along my journey

Initially, I saw so many of them but, as I walked on

I realized some were fading away whiles others

were no more

I noticed a set of footprints facing a specific direction

As though it bearer had a thousand legs

Could it be a crowd of people?

The footprints were headed towards a place where

there were trees with low hanging fruits, so they

veered off the road

I noticed other footprints which were not full as though

it bearers had tip toed throughout the journey to avoid

bruises from the sharp stones

Then I noticed a rare footprint with little blood stains in it

The wind blew and it never fade, time passed and it could

never be written off

I realized other fresher footprints had steps drawn in the

old rare footprints

Immediately, I knew which step to follow and with that I

became a marvel to the on-lookers


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Behind the Drapes

I always know when it’s last call
That’s when he stumbles home
He’s armed and he’s dangerous
With nowhere to go
But even in his drunken sweat
He knows his next target -
He shuts the windows,
And pulls the drapes closed

Then he’s yelling through the house
I don’t know what it’s about
I’m behind the closet door
Crouched down on the floor
All I can hear is the sound 
Of my heart beating
I don’t even realize I’m screaming
As he drags me out by my feet…

We have barbeques outside
And then he’s Mr. Nice Guy
He has all the neighbors fooled
With his helpful attitude
They never see 
The monster inside -
He pulls the drapes closed,
And that monster comes alive

He screams and he shouts
Rampaging through the house
All because of a joke
Our kitchen wall has a hole
I run behind the bed
Scrambling to get under it instead
But he yanks me out by the head…

I wake up later on the floor
Wondering who I am anymore
I feel like a pathetic version of me
No longer brave, no longer free
I dream of leaving him every night
But when I’ve left, I’ve paid the price
I don’t know how much more 
I can take - 
Maybe if I provoke him, 
He’ll end this charade…
I stare at paisley drapes
Tan and red swirl in my face

I look up at the walls
If the walls could speak
What would they say?
Would they be my Witness’s,
Or would they turn and run away?
Succumbing to Intimidation?
Fearing Retaliation?
Would there ever be 
Any Validation?
Any Compassion?
Or just more of this 
Inaction?

One time I hid behind the drapes
But he found me anyway


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So that was how the beautiful piece of heaven they had on earth stopped existing

We live in a world full of anger, hate, mistrust, fear and hypocrisy, but it wasn’t meant that way. Once upon a time, thousands of years ago God created a green, pretty and healthy planet to live in where all the animals could work together and live in peace, but suddenly, all started to change. There was a kind and good-intentioned lion, the king of the world, that always tried to do the best for his planet, taking care of all the animals on earth and maintaining peace all along the different species, but there was also a hyena, his best friend, who was so jealous of the king that he stabbed him on the back. The lion always trusted on his best friend, he told him everything he knew and all his thoughts. He thought he would be there for him whenever he needed him and always sought for his good, but the king started to notice his odd mood and felt like he was loosing his best buddy, he tried to talk to the hyena but he refused. So the king turned to somebody else to ask what was going on with his friend and nobody told him. That was so weird, everybody loved the king, everybody would kiss his ass for free, but not now, everything was different, not just with the king but the mood itself. Everything looked sad, darker, like dead. Then, one afternoon, at the weekly meeting of the Great Council, where everyone was discussing, telling wrongs and rights, the hyena stood and spoke up and turned everybody from the king, he was creating a revolution. With all the king’s ideas, with all the tactics he had, the hyena started to create a new team, he was creating bad people, he created evil. Even though there were still animals in the lion’s side, the evil one was stronger. The king, surprised and devastated by his best friend’s betrayal, he took up arms and started to defend his kingdom, the beautiful world he had. So they all started to fight, there was blood split everywhere, screaming, shouting and violence all around the place, like never before. Nobody stopped until wining or dying, dying was the choice they had to make to live in honor. So that was how the beautiful piece of heaven they had on earth stopped existing.


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It's Midnight on the Erie Canal

It's midnight on the Erie Canal,
And I'm alone,
Going home,
Wood Creaks,
I seek,
Something,
To bring,
Peace,
Unrealistically black sky,
And it's quiet,
Too quiet,
No cliche' intended,
No sound to me is candid,
Upon this water,
As I mutter,
Words that reassure,
My destination has not found me,
And though my fear has not yet bound me,
My nerves are shot,
But fear is not,
An option yet for me,
I must stay strong, 
It won't be long, 
Uncertain though,
But all I know,
Is that it's midnight on the Erie Canal,
And I'm alone, going home.


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Life I have known

I have a fear,
still residing within me.

The fear of my own
stupidity.

The fear of living this life alone.
Maybe it is fitting that I deserve to be
this way.

To know that only one could have ever 
accepted as I was.
Yet I did not truly deserve her.

But that is behind me now.

To give up the only thing
I thought I wanted,
what I thought I needed.

Yet after the fact,
it wasn't something I truly
was ready for.

I have finally seen myself 
for who and what I am.

I do not know if I will ever get
another chance.
If I will ever be accepted by another.

As I look at the conditions
in my life,
the lacking,
the unwanted qualities,
and characteristics.

From the material to the immaterial,
maybe it is best if this life be lived
as I know it best.

The way I live right now, alone.


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The Midnight Madame

Honey Glaze Bun
A herd of hoof ran across her back
 Her mind drifting into slumber
Her midnights rendezvous became dangerous acts 
while the itinerant
Slept in every alley on Delaney Street

An exhausted prosecutor 
Release her back to the cruelty of the dark street
Where broken lamps on 
The Great White Way generates
Little or no heat
And the deafening sound of the siren
Kept her awake
.
Until the blonde blue eye stranger pulled up
In a dark limousine rolled down the window
 And whispered
“Hello honey bun
Come on in 
Your place or mine
Let’s be discreet.

Half a mile down the dark road
The hooded stranger
Poetry became a reality
An old Shakespearean
Surface

Let not my love be called idolatry,

………………………………………………………………………………………………………..



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A Terror That Follows

Close behind;
Something there
is gone 
when I turn.
Still, it is there,
can feel its eyes
picking carefully
at my clothing.
Each step I take,
it does too.
Each time I stop,
the silence is frightening.
Afraid to run,
somehow,
I know it's faster,
so I walk on.
Then,
a sound I hadn't heard before 
crawls up my spine,
breathing, louder than mine.
My heart is pounding now,
mind whirling in panic.
What did it want?
Does it know me?
Then, a hand on my shoulder,
I freeze in horror.
A familiar voice laughing,
says, honey, 
you forgot your jacket.


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Born out of the moonlight

Every winters night I'm kept awake it seems, by the fainting ecos of my lovers screams forever filling the emptiness of my dreams.
Awakening within me the beast, with its eternal lust to drink and feast oh how I envy the deceased.
Given life's final pleasure of deaths final slumber, whilst I'm left here alone to wander.
Oh how I cursed and swore, when once more i bit and tore the delicate flesh of that human I adore.
It's burned forever into my memory, that night my lover was taken from me.
As the clouds cleared and moved from sight I bathed in the heavenly glow of the pale moon light, whilst an angel cried hast thou gazed upon such a calming night.
Calming indeed was it whilst in my human form, but as one well knows the calm comes right before the storm.
As the moons rays wrapped around my skin I felt the beast stir from within.
With one sharp pain in my chest so did begin this night of misery, as the transformation from man to beast happened almost instantly.
Detached now was my mind and soul from my body as I lost control like Alice tumbling down the black endless rabbit hole.
I was forced to bare witness to my claw as it tour open the entrance door like the rib cage of dear Eleanor.
Up the stairs I went in a frantic bound, moving swiftly without making a sound.
Opening the bedroom door my lover began to stir, upon the bed I lurched over her.
A small drip of drawl escaped over my teeth, it's touch woke my lover laying underneath, her eyes opened but her fright was brief.
Screaming at the beast who's control of my body was overpowering, as I could do nothing but watch it devouring the woman who's love for me had just began flowering.
And so since that night I lay cowering in my house who's rooms forever continue narrowing.
Empty though the house now lays, alone I am not, as within me the beast still stays.


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I can't really tell you what is, only what it feels like

So depressed,
maybe even a little stressed,
heart beats completely out of my chest, 
but why?
I can't the image out of my head,
I rest head in my bed, restless, all night Oh i'm so breathless,
I cry..
This inflicted, conflicted pain, may come from within me,
but it started with you.
Something so bittersweet, often lies through your teeth,
that's what you fed me.
Stay true, is what I said to you, even this action was cruel.
In this private world, I'm all alone
I don't like how it hurts.
Completely isolated myself from the world,
it's been days since I answered my phone.
Am I hurt, or did I receive what I was worth?
Dwelling on the past is my stress,
I cant move on, I'm definitely depressed.
Insecurities building on me, with your manipulation and painful memories.
I seize to believe this is my life's destiny,
I need a revision,
What exactly is this thing we call living?
I forgot good times, I let in the bad.
Being me, living life, freely, positive intensity,
it made made you mad.
Innocent girl learned how to live a lie,
life passed by,learned how to fake a smile and cry inside.
I need a lift, a need to rejuvenate,
I need to release this hate, at this rate, I hope I'm not too late.
Overly emotional, this  experience..hurt my physical, mental, well- being
Who could cause so much pain, was it just me?
How could your aggression, and obsession allow me to numb the delight from life.
I neglect the light,the love, the girl, who once knew how to live.
She was wonderful, highly intellectual, and oh so beautiful,
Now she's evidence of physical,emotional damaged work from the palm of your hands.
Completely broken,maybe even for good.



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I Am Not a Victim


I had a dream the other night
Of  walking in a field of cornbread
Golden brown
Baked just right
One solid
Unbroken field

As I softly crunched my way
I looked up
Coming toward me
Was a line of tigers
With a man in the middle
No one was tethered
Just walking together
Enjoying the day

There was no fear
No predator
No prey

I woke up laughing
This was so silly!

I went to the Fair today
And during a break
I asked if anyone
Could interpret my dream

They came up with 
Corn bread = The South
And perfectly baked gold = Coming into riches;
Or at least, no money worries

The tigers = Strength; overcoming fears

Hunh!

As I thought about it,
I remembered a childhood dream/nightmare
When I went to bed angry
A big tiger showed up
I would point to everyone who had angered me
He looked at them and proceeded to eat them up
At the end,
With everyone dead,
He turned and looked at me
That’s when I woke up

And a true story (or from this side of dreaming):
A friend and I went to an outdoor zoo
Somewhere south of Kalamazoo
We stood on a wooden walkway
Looking at an open field through a thick glass window
In the stone wall
We spotted several tigers

Later, as I walked a trail to the next exhibit
I looked up to see a tiger
Strolling through the tall grasses toward me
A mere thin wire fence
Separated us

I gulped and walked steadily onward
As I left the area
I could feel his thoughts:
“Ha!  I freaked out another one!”
Tiger humor

As one grows and hopefully gains wisdom
One learns to handle fear
FDR stated during the Great Depression,
“The only thing we have to fear, is Fear itself”

Recently I’ve been angry
About my ex-husband’s condition
He is slowly and bumpily improving from a near fatal stroke
My/our son flew to help

And I’ve been without him since Spring

They are in the South
Corn bread was a staple in our family

Many things around the house have broken
And wait to be repaired by said son

He says that every time he thinks about returning home
His dad suffers a setback
After months of “I’ll be home in two weeks…”
I gave up
Got the garage door repaired
And am making do with things I cannot fix

The working garage door makes all the difference
I finally have access to rakes, the lawn mower
And snow shovels
The car has a safe haven from the weather
And I feel calm

Turns out I could afford the door
-  With only one person’s groceries
Money lasts longer than it did

God keeps telling  me that I will be OK
Financially and otherwise;
It’s up to me to lighten up
To let Fear walk away
Without licking another notch in his paw

I am not a victim


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SHADOWS OF BLIND NIGHT






In a flash of minutes, steel wheels turn to crumbs;
a mirage of broken stars flood my mind…
suffocation clogs  an overcast isolation;
bam! boom!... am I trapped, pinned, flown
out into outer space? In moccasin shoes,
feet roll along a far-off lane…quietly, shadows
of gnomes try to pin my neck; the car half-buried
in a pile of mud sinking, sinking.. and creatures 
laugh as if to rake my body into two…is there a 
way out from this turn turtle of maze? A whip lash
drives me between zones of sanity and insanity:
I could not recall the quick slide on a curve.
Twilight silent, claustrophobic. Until wheezing
sounds from the radio awakes tingles of
red lights not from my head, but from
a sea of hands dragging my weight away
from a deep slope.. and what was  once a familiar
highway is now a vision of smoke-blind trail.

I slip in and out from hazed trance to reality fog,
imagining  a slide-show of ravine’s edge and rows
of bloody daisies: still, the gnomes appear as if 
to climb inside walls of my head.
In a quick gap , dried lips recite a frail prayer  as
a stranger  wheels me to a  white bed… oxygen revives
the lungs almost snuffed from a collision of heady
chain-link speed. Blind night, crazed truck, autumn 
spell combust to  almost shatter my bones. 
The gnomes disappear, at last, as the night stranger
leads me safely back home.




                       ©

by nette onclaud for Gail Doyle’s Stranded

*some parts are personal accounts of a car accident





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The Sad Truth About Life

Oh the horror! For people, it's just fun!
~Reecie


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Graduation Speech

I stood quite prepared, or so I thought
Before dozens of rows, aware of their stares
Hot, shiny kid faces, looking quite wierd...
Capped by flat, tasseled cardboard, and wow, was I was scared!
There they were, squirming like worms
Waiting to be given, a diploma in hand
Eager to be unleashed upon the world, when disbanded.
 
My classmates, friends, chums, this vast sea of restless birds..
I could trace giddy ripples…and a few whispered words
Their rapt attention, caught me a bit by surprise
I could feel pent-up parties swelling inside 
But they were waiting for me…! Oh, how did this happen?
That I would take the stand? My meager offerings, my rehearsed drivelings
 To be heard?!    How absurb!!


The auditorium echoed, in silence that night
The words sat there waiting, glib on my tongue
Words meant to stir their emotional wings
Of roads we had shared, and hurdles we’d jumped
Achievements, and memories, funny stories in store
Jokes we had played, games we had won, teachers adored
Shared school years to sum.  Oh,…they’ll be bored…!! They’ll be bored!!!

A speech I had planned, in my head it was grand
Intended it was,     to be even better
To melt from my tongue, like a river of butter
I did not know my feet would feel so large
The words that I had practiced would come out as a stutter
Where was the courage I had never needed before?

Two hundred pair of adolescent eyes
Waiting with patience, for words from a peer…
Oh Lord please help me recall just one single word!
Oh Lord…, JUST GIVE ME WINGS TO FLY OUT OF HERE!!….

He gave me a moment to gather my thoughts
Giving me a chance to swallow my fear….

To my astonished relief
I found three brand new words, quite unrehearsed
Indeed they were brief….and right off the cuff…
but they were enough ….and were followed by cheers..
                                     “Hooray For Us!!!”


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COBWEBS

Cobwebs The inner vision becomes blind When cobwebs clutter the mind With every thought of doubt A new thread weaves about You can no longer see The true sight of reality Your faith begins to slim You can only see the grim The self imposed web Deceives your life ahead You are in a tangled mess Full of weary with no rest The only way to get out Is to let go of the doubt Yes easier said than done Negative views hit everyone Be strong and take a stand Believe in the good at hand That God will see you through No matter what you have to do Take each step in life with ease As you live with inner peace Clear away the cobweb trend It will all work out in the end Florence McMillian (Flo)


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The Truth of the Dragon-Knight

Last knight Eye dreamed Eye was a dragon with wings made from disdain and shaped like quaking fear that burned holes through my subconscious imaginings. Eye was gliding soundlessly thru dark clouds, thunder, and rain, while the Slayers stood below, grounded in tyranny and trying to pull Me from the knight sky...Then Eye could hear, then Eye watched thru Dragon-I's as arrows joined my flight...trying to penetrate the hard scales of My spiritual skin. The muted sharpness of the arrows' dancing ricocheted off of Me.

Then Eye cried. Not in agony or pain or sadness...no

Eye cried in echoing defiance of the oppression of blind slavery and meaningless denial. Eye belched blue and green flame and roared aloud--as loud as my Dragon-voice would carry. Eye scorched the minds of the lie-ers and self-made martyrs (there, the ones who were carrying the omission of Truth of this world).

The Slayers still stood their ground. They kept circling  around and around under Me...but Eye kept pumping My neck, Eye kept beating My wings, but still the Slayers came...more and more of them...

Eye dived down deep toward their barren landscape (My Own Hunting Ground!!); Eye needed to see their torn, hated faces...Men, all. They kept their hoods drawn, their faces hidden from My I's. But their bodies were bare and naked to My Dragon-flame, naked to the force of My righteous wrath. Eye swept down closer, closer until Eye could smell the scents of their sweat and dried blood (of conquered servants before), and Eye could see, even count, the dark hairs sprouting from greasy, dirt-clogged pores. Eye could see that some bore vehement scars, jagged marks streaking across their man-flesh.

Their weapons were crude, mostly: wood axes, scythes, cudgels, kitchen knivez sharpened to a murderous edge...the only sophisticated armaments were their bows, their arrows. The bows were of blood and bone and tendon and blind fear, the sinewy string woven with acceptance of the  Truth...how odd (the Truth that they must stand and fight a common enemy as a single unit, that they must stop war amongst themselves to do so)...and their arrows were bound with Hope and Reason, that Eye would die before them, that they would live on. The bows were more beautiful than the Slayers deserved to wield, but they commanded them with such grace and poise and proficiency...

The Truth is Eye, the Dragon-Knight, and the Slayers are all of mankind's fear and war and social stigma among thorns...

Their bows were the making of Truth and Love and Acceptance, only constructed and command-able when mankind will stand together and open their I's and see.


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A Twist of Fate

It is a Wednesday afternoon during the school year.
That means sixth-grader Sallee Jacobs will be walking home today.
Sallee's mother works in the emergency room on Wednesdays,
Otherwise she picks Sallee up at the school that is one mile from their home.

On this particular Wednesday, it is pouring down rain.

As Sallee reaches the half-way point, 
an empty stretch of road between two housing developments,
a red sedan pulls up next to her and the driver rolls down his window.

"Hi," shouts the man over the sound of the pouring rain beating down on the roof of his car, "your mother asked me to pick you up - come get in out of the rain."

Sallee simply stares at this stranger and quietly says, "No thank you", even though she is miserably soaking wet, cold and angry at her mother for working Wednesdays.

"It's okay," reassures the fully-bearded man, "my name is Mr. Thomas, and I am a friend of your mother."

Sallee studies his face, thinking, you don't look like any of my mom's friends.  "No thank you," she repeats as she starts backing away from the car.

Then, out of nowhere, another man appears at Sallee's side.  He is wearing a rain coat and flashes a reassuring smile.  He looks at Sallee and asks, "Is everything all right here?"

Sallee, simply looks at the man in the car.

"Everything is fine," says the man in the car, "Her mother asked me to pick her up out of the rain."

"Do you know this man?", the rain coat asks Sallee.

"No."

"Do you want to get into his car?"

"No."

"How far away do you live from here?"

"Just up the hill and across Madison."

"Are you okay walking there by yourself?"

"Yes."

There are now four cars lined up behind the red sedan.  They start honking their horns at the car in their way.

"I don't know, Mister," says the rain coated man, "I think you just best move along before I call the police."

The bearded man asks Sallee one more time, "Are you sure you don't want a ride?"

With water dripping down her face, Sallee shakes her head, yes.

The red sedan moves on.

*****

It is 10:00 Wednesday night.  The red sedan is parked in front of Sallee's house.  Mr. Thomas holds Sallee's mother's hand while trying to describe to the police what the man in the raincoat looked like.  Sallee is never seen again.


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The Man in The Mist

~~oooOOO The Man In The Mist OOOooo~~ Going to my cousins house, a long drive in the car Over the moors with dry stone walls, it was very far The house in the middle of a field alone and swathed in a mist The owls hooting, bats flying, but any trees I must have missed. “The sea mist is in” my cousin said, “lets go inside now quick.” A man was standing in the shadows, in his hand was a stick. The waves were nosily rolling in as she pushed us through the door A quick glance behind me as I entered, the man was no more. “Who is the man outside?” I asked as she drove huge bolts home That is Fred our ghost, we had a séance - and now he’s on the roam. What do you mean? He haunts this place, and his name cannot be Fred And people that died long ago do not come back - they are dead. Fred says he lived where the barn once stood there are owls and bats there too But since we called him he wants to enter the house – a chill wind blew. It’s when the mist rolls in, we find we must lock and bar all the doors If you hear footsteps in the night stay in bed until they pause. That night in bed the light went out; my little sister was afraid The sheets were damp the mist inside, so a small request she then made Mandy can I sleep with you I am scared and I am so very cold? I said "jump in but make it quick", but I did not feel really bold. Her footsteps came round the bed and she sat upon my feet "Get off my feet and into bed then perhaps this cold we will beat." Her little voice came to me - from her own damp dark bed I haven’t got out of it yet, I was looking for my teddy bear instead. I peeped over my bedclothes and saw a shape sat on my feet "Oh no" I cried "Fred’s in here, do you think he wants to eat?" My little sister whispered, "please don’t say that it's true What is he here for Mandy”, she whispered “what is he going to do?” My body shaking, my mind in tatters - a ghostly hump sat on my bed My heart beating loudly; the hairs prickling and standing on my neck and head. "Please Fred what is it that you want, please don’t hurt us here?" My sister whimpered under covers, "If he is dead, how can he hear?" The ghostly hump of Fred lifted suddenly from my feet I saw him shake his stick I thought us he was going to beat. He waved the stick, the misty room cleared, the light suddenly came back on I put my head under the covers and when I peeped over he had gone.
By Mandy Tams 22/04/12


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Coffee Shop v2

Prefece:
You're sitting alone at the bar of the coffee shop and you've got the usual.
black decaf latte, today's newspaper, and that pen that smears blue ink.
It’s the same every night, that's why you come back. Monotony is relief.
The only move you've made in what seems like hours was to refill your drink.



Coffee Shop:

You stare at the latte like you’re about to open a gift.
Lifting the cup high, your lips sip the heavy cream.
Tired eyes watch the frosted window and the drift
that carries the uninvited snow effortlessly past you.

The room behind you is burning loud with conversation;
The same arguments, theories, solutions
It's a sickness stuck in the same old rotation.
Like hopeless addicts, they fiend for absolution

There’s talk of Plato’s cave that shrouds enlightenment.
Others discuss Gandhi’s hidden path to the same effect.
They repeat wise men’s words in circles they invent,
leaving what’s more than a hint of ignorance to detect

The sun sets and you're blinded by a glare as you look to the skyline,
the light glows as it sits atop the trees; you look down with a sigh.
Through the window you catch the eyes of a battered man, the look of isolation and despair intertwined.
The man’s face, streaming with tears, tells a story of one too many goodbyes.

What difference does this man make, which he is or what he needs?
You’ve seen it all before; a different movie, the same old theme.
Plus, the tilt of his head and pain in his eyes speak for him of his own misdeeds
Your stare stays locked as you say out loud, “things are always what they seem.”

You have a heavy feeling bring a question that stays planted in your mind
You wonder now if you walk the very path that hollowed this man's eyes.
The thought turns into voices, the words they say are all entwined.
Getting louder now, the more you try to block them out, the more they intensify.


-Jackson Kilgrow
rantedtirades.blogspot.com


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The unkown

There are no promises, no real guarantees
You just have to go with it and hope for the best
It’s probably one of the scariest feelings
You want to not think about it and just enjoy it for what it is and live in the moment
Then there’s that little voice in your head saying “why bother?”
“You’re going to be left crushed and disappointed just like all the other time?”
You keep trying to push it aside but your heart and mind start to feel weary
While I consider myself to be the hopeless romantic who longs for that one who completes the puzzle piece, id don’t want to fall so hard again to end up putting the shattered pieces of my soul back together once more
I want to be able to jump and fly
Not fall and cry
It’s much easier said than done, as are many things
There are no promises, no real guarantees
But every once in a good while you got to jump into the unknown


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Getting Old

As I sense the daylight strut through my mind,
I open my Squint's just enough to find,
one more day on this circle called Earth.
only 20,125 since the day of my birth.

I pull myself up with creaks and groans,
not stopping once until I've reached my thrown.
Start, Stop, Start, Stop life has played a trick it seems,
making this function that should be simple,
most difficult for me.

My friends all tell me age is just a number,
and I couldn't agree more.
20,126 and counting as my feet hit the floor.
Start, Stop, Start, Stop prostate exam on the 5th,
why, this growing old isn't all that hard as I take one more barium sip.

The hair is diminishing on the top of my head,
but growing in my ears someone once said.
The wrinkles on my for head that once never showed, 
20,127 just a roadmap to go.

It use to be my youth was free, careless, casual, and wild.
now in my old age I'm sorry to say;  I 'm out dated, out witted and out styled.
so to be apart of the elderly,
you have to be a bit bold.
just get use to the fact for the rest of your life,
you'll always be getting old.


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Is it your fear of attachment


Is it your fear of attachment

Written By Dean Masciarelli

November 5, 2010 (8:01am)


Is it your fear of attachment 

That has prevented you from having 
a
fulfilling and rewarding relationship

Because you are truly
afraid of getting hurt

Believe me if it is I know 
what you are talking about

Because at one point or another 
we have all experienced
the aftermath of dealing with 
the emptiness that we  have felt

Especially after we have 
had 
to deal with a broken heart

Because it seems to take 
a life time to get over it

And that’s why it has been so difficult 
for
anyone that has gone through the hurt

But it is just not healthy and you 
have to let go of the resentment

So that you can get over your fear of attachment 
and finally have a fulfilling and 
longer lasting relationship that is solid and concrete











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my companions

 
My only companions are my dreams my only friends Who call out for me their voices a melody for me to fallow save me my friends from this Dark World Wolfs teach me to be loyal and to fight the dark and when make love to the dark embracing it becoming dark myself yet not to succumb to its control Fae teach me to kill with words And when to use them to save Of the meanings of speech and its clever twists To speak a truth one does not want to hear And still make them hear tote truth Twin sprits teach me to know the sprits Those elusive things some call souls Not knowing how to talk with them, we converse Not knowing how to feel their presence, I touch them I feel the hands brush against my skin As dragons, teach of fire, rage, and bloodlust ,when to use it and how to use it well like a well made WAR HAMMER ,and from the masters I learn lore and flight for though I have no wings still I fly with them Trees teach of patience And the earth’s presence and how to care her Of the minds herbs and streams to feed my roots As my branches wither Their Skills With The Wood Are Rival To None Succubus and Incubus you teach of the heart, it’s betrayals, loves, comforts how to guard the heart, and still feel for they know best, its mysterious ways Whilst my heart, mind and body scream Scream for release from this reality To dreams and the worlds found through their doorways Call out to me my friends save me from those who ridicule me who constrain me in chains of iron as they sear my flesh Holding me fast to things, I must not do or have cages of words, deeds, people, and their judgments I Hate Them, And Their Ways are both evil and cruel I know not how long I have left For my blood screams for vengeance To bathe in its fires ,to soar free in the skies where none but you can reach me SAVE ME, MY FRIENDS I BEG YOU!!! I long for your embrace your fiery breath the sweet scent of wet moss you warm sprit upon mine the pack running singing the songs that change me to your likeness the sleep where my heart lies in your hands as you feed your lustful hungers upon my troubles leaving me to sleep untroubled free of my cares and worries giving me my heart backed still with its worries and cares but unburdened you cleaver teachers I lust for your wisdom and the peace you bring me please come open the doorway to the forests and the fire moors save me my friends
this is also a personification


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An Ostrich That I Am

Trust an airborne Ostrich like myself with clean wings as the boar
I have seen the lion sing and the songbird roar
But I stood in disbelief behold the bald eagles fly
Above the firmament’s heights implausibly the bald eagles ply
I have seen goats eat fish before nonchalant cats
Fried fish for goats and cats rummage for grass
 
Trust an arboreal Ostrich like myself gripping a branch with my paw
I entered Reykjavik’s warmth bolting through Hell’s frozen door
Gazing its skyscrapers and esteeming nature
The stroke of its furnace just as hot as Hell’s glacier
Sweat dripped down my eyes as I flew in fear
The reason for the smile is now same for the tear

It must be easy for you to believe an Ostrich like myself
A tiny Ostrich with a baffled heart almost enormous like an elf
Entomb my head in the sand and the funny peril is gone
Just like the soul has no mouth but its food is song
No different from my egg without doors but a chick entered
Same as God tolerant in the beginning but in the end is short-tempered

It must be difficult to trust an Ostrich like yourself
Men dub your views futile but only you know its wealth
Not wings to fly but ask for legs to run and crawl
He that advocates peace’s doppelganger starts the brawl
How far can you fly through turbulence and pours?
Now show them the farthest you can crawl when it rain cats and dogs


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My Favorite Devonshire

Between Fear and Hope
By Carolyn Devonshire

where my heart longs to be
the distance feels so far from me
I don't know what exactly it is, that I fear
when there's nothing left to keep me here
hard decisions keep me awake at night
always feeling this pull towards a brighter light
you found a way to open the door to my heart
where I found you did belong from the start
with each day, I can feel you slipping away
tears at me, in a thousand different ways
where my heart longs to be
is with your spirit that keeps me free 
never will the light slip away
with my spirit you'll always stay 
have no fear, as I have none
concealed thoughts for what's to come 
from the other side, I'll connect with you
for never have I touched a heart so true 
a sign I promise, your fear to break
angel in your pocket - rainbow at daybreak 
as we make the most of what we have now
in my afterlife we'll be closer somehow 
and happy my soul will always be
to have found a friend who cares for me


Distant Dreams

Knowing you but for the shortest time, and having distance separate our desire to be more like sisters than friends. I read this with sadness and worry. Your sunny disposition so clouded. I wish for ways to bring you more feelings, a way to heal you, a way to cloak you in compassion, but I have none but this. Dear friend stay awhile longer let the end be a more distant dream.
 


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Fear

Fear The shout of a man sitting at a table He was collecting all bottles, and glass that he was able I turned to my husband and said what do you think? Some guys stood behind us and said "lets get a drink." I moved to the side, I walked on past The hairs on my neck were standing up fast A feeling I knew washed over me Something was happening and I didn’t want to see. A guard with a gun, knocked me as he walked by The guy at the table with the bottles wasn’t shy. "Get lost, get away you can’t stop me flying I know what to do without even trying." My heart began to race, what is going on? People are pushing and shoving then we could see he had a gun. The fight starts there on the floor, two men with the glass and bottles Two guards rush in, hands round throats trying to throttle We hide behind tables, and chairs, we cannot escape A gun slides up near making a noise like ripping duck tape. It’s there at my feet- a hand reaches for it, Is it a guard or a terrorist? I nearly have a fit. A push in the back from a big burly guy Shouts “Go on get stuck in, give it a try.” "What the hell are you on about shut your mouth now" There’s guns flying round and words I never heard- I vow There are four on the floor kicking guns and screaming loud Then a clicking of two feet, comes a short man from the crowd He stands and he yells and they all do stop He points and picks up the guns that they have not He sorts it all out; the police come take them away An announcement rings out “Thanks for flying with us today.”
Based on a true event over thirty years ago in an airport in Gan Canary


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ROUGH TURN

Hear my plea and hurt me not
Have mercy and let me be,	
Lost I am but found I will be
Taunt not my image
Lest yours you taunt
Do not rob me of pleasure
Pleasure I will feel only with him
Part not my thighs
That I nurture for he, whose I am
Spare me this agony
Free me of this shame
Release me from this hurt
And do not steal my cries
Rob me not of my pleasure
For demented I will be
With your cold and evil touches
Touch me not, ooh rugged being
For my life you bring to an end.
 
 
 © Naa Takia, All Rights Reserved 2012
 


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Welcome mat

Welcome Mat….       by: Steven Hudson


Hands tremble at the grip in my hand,
Two worlds collide in moments of time,
The trigger shakes, while onlookers scorn
What once was peace, now a violent storm

Away ye dogs of thunder come to plunder my house!
Who come to grant me the title of fatherless son
You knocked on our door looking for trouble
But when trouble rose to greet you, you froze like a mouse.

I did not seek you out, you forced a delinquents hand
It was only justice, to protect that which I love
The pulse that quickens, the fear that sickens
The weight of words preceding a heavy handed blow

What was meant to destroy me
Only proved to employ me
For in the face of my enemy the only choice remains
To stand strong, stand fast, that my losses, may become gains.


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AND THE SKY SCREAMED

I'll never forget that dark twisted face in the distance,

Its midnight moonlit finger tracing a path to my door.

A thousand locomotives seemed to roar in my ears,

Then I heard the sounds of so many gun shots.

No, it was the window glass popping from their frames,

Its powerful breath was quickly upon me gripping me.

Those walls began to spin and the ceiling flew away,

My eyes cried as tears were ripped from my cheeks.

I yelled in terror and its horrible voice screamed louder,

In flight within my own house I knew death was near.

So was this the way I would travel to heaven?

Then suddenly it became so very quiet.

That violent spinning monster had lightly set my home down,

This man had stared straight into its giant ugly eye.

For an unknown reason it had decided to spare me,

To this very day I still swear it could think.



Copyright © 2014 Robert William Gruhn - All Rights Reserved

"A poem to me is the essence of any thought,
Being built from its foundation into tower scraping sky.
It can fly like no other bird to places never seen,
Even spaceships can only dream of taking its place."

© 2014 Robert William Gruhn


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''To Hell And Back''

Oh' you scared,persecuted square.
Dante melts my suffering skin.
Darkness falls in limbo as a curse to me.
I'm a gluttonous fraud.
Spitting in tune they say-''We spare not the tears of weakness.''
Rage fuels the hatred,as twas my acute demise.

Anoint thy soul heavenly father.
I was once tired.
Now given the gift of imminent strength.
Blessed by a prominent light.
I've surrendered my body.
Feel no pain,agony escapes me.


PD~Poet Destroyer contest~


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Introduction To a Novel

 ‘April’s Fools’. 
Set in the 1950’s with poverty and slum housing still prevalent, to gain money, a father decides to sell his six children, never realising his plan which was really to re-house them, would place them in untold dangers.

   A young couple, both single parents, find themselves later burdened with many children but with few means to look after them.  Already hated by his mother-in-law, penniless and out of work, with a strong desire to be on the stage, Michael, does not let on he was divorced at the tender age of 21, he is already a father by his ex-wife and his lover; and now a child on the way by his fiancée.  As the family grows the money dwindles on drink. To gain money and a new home, Michael decides he must sell his six children and offers them for sale in a local newspaper, causing uproar.  This results in him being offered a job and cottage, away from the city. 


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The Locklears Chapter One

"Wakey, wakey, sleepy head" the 
woman's voice was cheerful and playful
as she threw a glass of cold water in the 
unconscious man's face.  "Wha, wha, what 
Happened? Did I fall asleep?"  As the man 
opened his eyes he tried to move but 
couldn't. 
Looking around he realized he was in an 
upright position eagle spread.  Each wrist 
and ankle
was shackled, locked, and chained.  "I'm 
not into locks and chains.  I'm the one 
paying for sex
you have to do what I want."  The man's words 
were slurred as he looked at the woman.  "Poor, poor, 
little man I'm not a prostitute.  I just pose 
as one on the 
internet and in the streets.  That's how I 
get pigs like you" said the woman with 
an evil grin.
Written by Keith Edward Baucum aka The 
Green Poet aka The Brown Philosopher aka Red Seven


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Goodbye Gail Angel Doyle

Gail Angel Doyle has now left the site
Her inspirational poems were a pure delight

I’m heartbroken that people here have caused her distress
She wrote a blog that she was leaving then changed her mind and wrote one saying she was taking a break but sadly now she is closing her account.

Jan Allison
24th July 2014


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TROUBLE ECONOMY

The american economy is on life support has been for years. Sad it makes my heart fill with tears. The land we live the land we love. America is in trouble no doubt but i don't worry about it i let GOD take care of it that way i don't got to figure it out. I want to see my future but not as a blur.


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Untitled as of yet 1st verse





Patrick Kail

 
There are silent deeds which needs be done.The sorts of which the Wicker Man would whisper well in a whetstones way.As a well honed edge waits in stealth for the prideful whelp who swaggers tall.Before the footfalls not quite not quite heard but minded , muted , then dismissed.As mostly musings of a childs fear , each step fell mired in the madness blind.Slowly slipping from his mind.Though in truth not far behind him there came that of which no words describe.Other then a Darklings Gift He should beware of.Were He though his fear would quicken.Coagulating slowly at first;Urine:The blood lust.That which bumps within the night is better to be what is heard.Then what harks the call of silent deeds which needs be done.Whilst something wicked this way comes. James P Kail Friday December 14th 2012 as of yet an untitled work verse 1


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espionage

secrets began leaving the building
bar codes covered the license plate's
threats intimidation badgering
and fear meaningless arousal

I began to focus on her treason
again a righteous over reasoning
I was selected poet of Florida
four years in a row inspired

by montel williams and ms. survivors
i'd completed my poem mattie 
for the disabled child poet stepenek  
seated in mark ober's building on twigg 

states attorney jim shoemaker
having a panic attack
following a murder trial 
who was my imposter 

she wore dark skin 
and a very odd grin
why my death enticed her
I began to feel empty
 
again espionage a disease 
she was spreading. quickly 
throughout civil liberties finally 
I could go to the restroom 

without fear finally I could speak
without panting my imposter 
was a treasonist stealing
my passport to re enter canada

 i remembered the pelicans 
swooping their dinner 
over the seminole valley 
the whooping crane standing

in the merky waters
as alligators strolled by 
i'd remember thee imposter jane
a ladder up to my window pages ripped

why she latched on to my identity 
with a fierce strength a severe stronghold
why she believed she was me 
side by side the fbi 1994 investigating 

police corruption Jane was now a mole 
planted by corruption for the purpose 
of infiltrating fbi witness files
to sabotage an entire ongoing

corruption investigation an entire 
police department therefore killing me 
the actual witness everyday 
was the fourth of July my location 

constitution Blvd Arlington heights cemetery 
awaiting the flag to cover my coffin 
Jane relocated crime and built 
a city on that ongoing corruption 

the mother whose grandfather
protected the bischops 
in rome in wwll 
why she believed she was me

1989 a witness from chicago
a poet from tampa 1999 to 2005
standing before me four gunmen 
one seated in a tahoe with jane

the imposter the treason 
had began to explode before me
jane watching her gunman pointing 
the gun in the crowd of children

alerting the three other gunmen
while murder occured at my feet
i sat covered in yellow tape
sitting in a pool of blood

 i began to find peace
in a mans death during
the assumption of mary
after mass i was to be

assasinated and replaced
by treason it was my german
diplomatic  passport to be 
duplicated in canada dubai

mumbai london and turkey
i thought of frankfurt augsburg
munich italy and spain
while  panting my name
over and over again


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''Runaway Wanted''

I see my breathe.
Night has fell upon a frost.
Gods' chill lye now on my shoulders.
Alone yet not.
Silence now before the icey rain.
Surrender as my nervous teeth chatter.
For the warmth of a home is all that is desired.
My empty haven.
But,I am filled with a heart that is full.
Want nor wait.
Arms now cover me like a blanket.
Gust of wind has carried your unwaivered heart.
Candles lit a way to find what is left.
Merely an image of what once was.
Break down into a sob.
Remains frozen solid as climate has taken its' vengence.
I suffer no more,weak body.
Now only in spirit.
Shall I rest.


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''Will To Forget''

The frailness of a blank pallet.
Now conforms under hazed eyes that weep.
Does it bring truth to her treacherous past?
Oh' she is sure to find peace.
Life turns an unknown path.
Repulsive thoughts cease.
Sun breaks through.
Clouds lye no more on her tormented soul.
Reflections' sore heals in time.
Carry me to better place.
For now, I own the will to forget.


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LOATHSOME AGE OF GREED

If I had lived yesterday
in that chaotic world echoing
of Gatling guns shots and canon blasts,
I would have made a difference:
hate and prejudice would have not prevailed,
and power wouldn't have been abused;
from History's records, we know that even 
when Jesus lived it wasn't that peaceful!
During the American Civil war,
Northerners fought Southerners...
did they hear Scarlet's desperation,
or the moaning of her loss as war went on?
And for sometime, it had become
a modus vivendi she couldn't change.
Let's return to the stark reality of the present:
have we noted some drastic changes
in Government and social behavior?
Yes, it has given us more liberty,
but another war has shattered many hopes
of ever seeing peace as blood continues to be shed...
while nations arm themselves to their teeth!
How can we welcome those winds of change and feel safe,
if we tell our children that danger still exists?
And has society been kinder and more caring?
Obscenity, teen sex, violence, greed, vulgarity
and exploited sexuality are being condoned by many;
we wouldn't be that cool if we didn't use obscene words,
and worst of all, we are called hermits or asexual
if we abstain from sex to prevent those sexual diseases!
Is this rebellion, or a trend of the new generation?
Having unprotected sex, making babies, 
laying the burden on their Government that's fighting
a terrorist war? Do we seen any future
for these lost kids who imitate the habits of their parents?
Blame them? Ah! Lots of things would be changed,
if they turned to God and ask for His guidance!
And to end my visceral narrative, I shamefully confess, 
" I hate to live in this loathsome age of greed!"


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End Of Life - 2012

Senior citizen wakes up
Looks in the mirror
What's happened here?

Time has caught up
The end could be near
Nothing to calm the pending fear

So much left to do
A feeling of dread
So much left unsaid

Must be a dream
This can't be right
Visions of Heaven's eternal light

Here the children
Their beautiful laughter
Wonder what comes after

Memories of life come rushing back
Like a sideshow; a play
Wishing for one more day

Too bad the young don't know
It's all fun; They don't care
Life happens; not always fair

Twilight is here; No more time
Fading out like the setting sun
No matter our plans, our life is done


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Momentary Reflection

I was paralyzed in thought,
and standing all alone;
Surrounded by darkness,
everything was gone...

With barely a glimpse, from the corner of my eye;
I was travelling so fast as I passed myself by.
I was moving at high speed, as if,
somehow out of time.

Thinking to myself, looking back into the distance;
Could I have been resting, 
or was there something on my mind;
Maybe, I was just Reflecting,
on some Moments from past times...

A Momentary Reflection,
I thought as I laughed;
Reflections of mistakes, so many in my past;
Or maybe the future, and thoughts of my death.

There's no point in thinking that anything can change;
I passed myself there and found myself here;
Crossroads unmarked, destination unphased,
Trembling,
like a lost dog, covered in mange...

A strength unfound, a desire to disappear;
A Momentary Reflection,
of how I found my way here.

As I watch myself in quiet,
with no desire to stop;
In slow motion I fall,
from a single gunshot...

A Momentary Reflection,
of where I stood at the start;
Maybe if I had slowed, or come to a stop,
this Moment I have witnessed,
the confusion and doubt;
Just maybe, somehow;
I could have found a way out...


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Averted Hurricane

Urgent request from
a friend; asking for prayer
for her daughter Caschel—
directly in hurricane's path—
refusing to evacuate.

No hotel will take 
her, with all her animals.
She's holed up in her
bathroom, animals in cages.

My friend asks,
How do I pray for her
do I ask God to save 
her from her own stupidity?

            Later, as I pray,
            I remind God that he created
            animals, as well as humans;
            gave Caschel a loving heart.

            Remembering his promise,
            if we ask anything
            in his name—believing—
            it will be granted.

            So I asked, trusting . . .

Hurricane Charlie 
abruptly changed course.












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TWO CONTRADICTORY PLACES

PART I-HELL

The most dreadful place
which terrified me was Hell;
who made up this horrible word?
Not the Renaissance poet Dante, of course;
most probably the Catholic Church.
My human flesh never burned,
it felt the eternal torment of flames
and the despicable faces of demons
made me scream while they laughed. 
I cursed them as they fed more coal
to a fire that was hotter than Saturn's rings.
I writhed as a wounded snake,
trying to bite them with my poisoned tongue,
" Ah! The sly sinner wants to get away from us!"
One demon shouted with a mocking voice.
" He was sent to us, now he must be tormented! "
And saying so he poked me with his fork...
I didn't bleed, there wasn't a drop of blood left!



PART II-HEAVEN

The sublimest, 


The sublimest place I had ever imagined
couldn't have been none other than Heaven...
there I felt at peace without the guilt of sin;
the strong smell of roses and jasmines was pure delight,
and wearing a long, white gown I approached His throne.
I was ready to face and withstand His luminous face;
no, I felt no heartbeat or pulse in my wrist...
flesh couldn't enter this Holy place, only spirit.
As I climbed the thousands stairs flanked by angels,
His bright face began to dimmer, taking away my fear.
" Son, you were brought here on the account of your good deeds,
you are not as spotless as saints who have obeyed my commandments. "
The Almighty attested with austerity and fairness.
" Return and be completely pure as they are, and I will accept you as them. "
And this vision of ponderous thought, made me realize
that no one with a spot on his soul can partake of Heaven's glory;
imperfection and impurity are not allowed,
and while living among the sinners, I must resist and overcome temptations.    


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Near-Death Experience '85

It's been well o'er ten years
since I took my journey
through a darkened star-lit tunnel...
...Sucked down a streamlined funnel...
Many people say their 'experience'
was filled with feelings of love;
beautiful sights...colorful lights,
but mine was a fearful flight.
I saw no glorious revelations,
no visions of life past.
I saw only darkness around me,
with dancing stars surrounding...
I flew with blinding fury
straight ahead...out of control...
I could feel my soul screaming
as though the air was filled with electricity.
I cried "No!  No!", but kept going...
I screamed "I cannot leave my son!"
No escaping, filled with fear,
the force pulled me e'er near.
Suddenly, amidst my crying protests,
I came to an abrupt halt.
I was stuck there in the stars so bright...
...Ho'ering in my deathly plight...
Then an invisible door square, yet round,
opened oh, so slightly inward...
The brightest light I've e'er seen
flooded out one side to me...
A booming voice from all around
told me to "GO BACK."
HE said my work was "Not yet done",
and that I WAS "Needed" by my son.
...And I came back...
I was given the chance to make my life right -
to do what God has willed...
One day, though, my life will finally end,
and then I'll truly see
my loved ones and friends.


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Honor of Friendship-Part Three

Once again silence envelopes me, like a thick blanket choking me, thrashing and panicking I wish to escape and wonder why you have left me like this? Why you have left me with such emptiness, such silence, digging into me, ripping me apart… “Please, do not abandon me…” I wish to say, to plead…to beg, but no words escape me for I can no longer breathe.
All I did was listen, that’s all I’ve ever done, and then…you’re gone and I feel so alone…so alone. Lost in a never ending darkness, floating aimlessly and I cannot find my way. All I did was listen, all I’ve ever done was listen, I was only ever by your side. Was that not enough? Did you want more? What more can I give? Please, tell me why must you hide, why must the silence over take us-me? Why must I be left on the sidelines…why must I be forgotten…?
When you speak with others, can you not speak with me as you speak with them? Do you feel shamed when spending time with me? Must our friendship be hidden? I do not understand… I wish to, I wish so much to understand you but I cannot. I cannot see when my only light is gone.
They are the only ones for you, they are your friends…I am the forgotten one. Abandoned; left behind, in silence, darkness, and sorrow. They are the ones for you, they are the ones you love, they are the ones you praise and honour…What am I? what am I?
Why do I surround myself around you, why do I care so much, when you obviously care so little? Do you even care at all? Am I just someone to fill the space, am I just someone to pass the time with until you can be with your real friends, once again leaving me on my own…

In glowing light you saturate them in words of precious gold, honors adorned by you electing them to be your true friends. Telling me that you adore them, love them, so; that they listen quite often to what you say, that you can tell them anything without fear of them judging you and all the while I listen to such high praise. As you bestow upon them the highest honor one can receive from you-the gift of true friends- I listen as you continuously adorn them with riches of words…

What am I to you? WHO am I to you? Will you ever say, will I ever know? Is there anything to say, anything to know? Or shall I always be left in the dark silence?


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The Barman Legend

Another week ends and here I am once more. Friday evenings I sit, and my friend you pour. I drink to the gods who delegate my fate, a toast to a lover, a colleague or mate. You are "The Barman" a legend in your own right. You pour out the numbness, and soak up sins of the night. Stories are your rubix cube, a toy to pass the time. You listen with intent, a gate keeper in his prime. This week was different, there was a twinkle in your eye. You noticed, I noticed, and your smile was rye. A glance to your hands, and I see the crimson of blood. Your the legendary bartender, but are you evil or good? The tales you've absorbed, full of hatred and love. Which ones have you focused on, the flames or the dove? Suddenly I notice the bar is now empty. It's clear you are twisted, my one confession was plenty.......


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Black people ashamed of their color

Black people ashamed of their beauty
Ashamed of their human race 
they cried
they run
they hide their face
because of their black color they are disgraced

The whites, the browns, the Chinese, the Indians uttered black, black they run
gone in the cool-shade far away from the sun
running away from the sun-bun
they say made them black

Fear to say they are black and proud
they will rather hide themselves behind the crowd
so many things they will do just to become white or brown
they are shamed
shamed for what?
that they are too black.


Demeter Edwards


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The Vampire Slayer and I

The story had begun
On a rainy afternoon;
As twilight settled over the land.

Darkness covered the pinkish clouds,
Rain has started to fall, too hard
And the wind whistled in un- tune sounds
Owl crying and the horror climb in my vain.

Lost in a creepy place
Where vampires hide,
Springing out of the dark of the woods
Their eyes red, their fangs sharp.
Walking fast as I could
Trying to hide from the demons of the nights.

Cast away in a forest where I went
Shadow of the moon is only the light
I heard trees laugh like witches
Foxes making a noise, a sign that
Vampires are just around the corner.

I see from the above flying 
Strange creatures, they are powerful
More than a hundred humans
They are after me trying to suck my blood
They are the vampires, the demons of the night.

Can’t take one more step to escape from them
Suckers of the blood that’s they are called
I try to cover myself with my two hands
My body shivers I lost my consciousness.

The sunlight wake up to me
Fresh morning air, sweet fragrance 
Of flowers surrounded on me,
Knowing that I survived from a nightmare.

The last moment I had remembered
There was a man standing in front of me.
The vampire slayer who rescued me
He fought with bloody fire arms.

Written By: Cheryl Aldea
Date: April 16, 2012
STRANDED CONTEST (Gail Doyle)


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An obe

OBE I never really believed in the white light At the end of a tunnel-try as I might I was having a laugh with the anaesthetist When the surgeon did ask him for a quick assist “Why is she not asleep yet? I heard him ask She is used to the pre-meds, don’t worry this is my task. After many bouts of surgery over the years I was hard to knock out but I still had my fears. I loved the sleep anaesthetic does give The dreams are so wonderful and so real and vivid. This one was different I remember it well I was sat very high up looking down I could tell There was a lot of commotion below me that I could see There were bells ringing and flashing lights and then I saw me Wow this is weird how am I lying there but here I was looking around I could not believe it a white light did surround I was laughing and thinking this can’t be real Nobody sees a white light never mind tries to feel It surrounded me and I felt it, I now wasn’t to sure I had never seen anything like it before On top of the electric light that was below I saw the dust sitting on it even with the bright glow Then there was calm and things did quite down There was a rushing in my ears but no other sound. A voice came to me and said “Come on now wake up” A tap on my cheek and I felt them pull the pipe up I coughed and she smiled,” it’s all over now We are glad to see you, you don’t know how.” When I awoke they were standing round my bed One nurse I knew said “We thought you were dead” Charming said I, why what went wrong? “Your heart did stop beating, but now it is strong.” I wondered what had happened I was watching you all No you cannot have been, don’t say that, that tale is to tall I told them of the alarms the beeping and coloured lights I was watching from above, seeing what I might They smiled at me with an indulgent look But I know what I saw so they can put that in their book.


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honor of Friendship-Part Two

I listen, and I’ll always listen because I will do anything for you, I would die to keep you safe and alive. I would do whatever to make you feel better. And so, I listen as you talk about them, these amazing friends of yours…Only some I have met. How lucky they are to have such devotion, how lucky they are to not feel the sting of betrayal and abandonment; thrust upon their spine crippling them to a state of fear, anger, and distrust.
How lucky they are to have you, how lucky I am to have you.
Do you understand, do you see just how much I love you?
 Soul such as yours deserves only the best; perhaps that is where I fault, I bring upon you sadness and pain, until all you do is go silent hiding behind solid doors. Composing words of sorrow, and they stab me like a sword in the gut…Closed off, shut away from you-I cannot function like this. I lose my way, I lose everything, I cannot be kept away, please open up to me… ‘DO NOT SHUT ME OUT’ I cry…I don’t want to lose you, yet I feel as though I already have; I feel as if I never really had you all along-not truly. That everything I believed, everything I have come to know is fake. An act, a show you put on until you can no longer pretend to care anymore so when the opportunity comes along you go silent and drop me. I am left forgotten, wondering what happened…Seconds, minutes, hours go by and nothing. I lose control, I panic and my bleeding heart reacts. Maybe you did not mean it though, but maybe you did…I don’t know and I’m not sure I ever really will know and my mind spins like a top…I don’t know what to do, or say…or think. Do you even care? Did you ever care, or did you just pretend so you did not have to face me? If you were given the opportunity would you forget who I am, would you abandon me in the unforgiving tide, left alone to fight against the waves, until all I have given you-all the memories flood me until I drown, going down to the pit of nothing…? The pit of lies that you made, would it be easy to turn you back on me, leave me to fight alone this losing battle until you are no longer burdened by me…? And when I am gone, will you finally feel free?


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Through the eyes of a cannibal

I sit alone, accompanied by none other than the souls of the deceased
Bodies scattered..to and fro
Only to be stepped upon and left unnoticed
Vile death feels my head 
I am sick...twisted
I Creep into your soul 
Slowly..bloodthirsty
For I have, no guilt, soul, nor heart
Tis only death in wich I take pleasure
I am a tramontane..unnoticed and feared by all
I trescend above all others
For all, fear me
Dare step to me..nor a simple glance
I turn to you...licking the remains of my last meal off my lips
I smile a smile that all know and fear..a smile so viscious and twisted
I drag you..letting the others watch in agonizing pain
Their cries please me
agonistic are you to escape
I divour you....Limb from limb
Leaving you to rot with the others
Fear me..for you can never love me
For all fear me
I am sick...twisted
.....Alone


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Stilts

          Sick people with sick brains
Really nothing to desire as a (wo)man
          They walk around insane.
A horror and I am not playing.
          The tall tale goes they are Stilts, a circus clown nothing like Pennywise.
Just a hideous premonition place in a different medium lives in the mentality of 
          little people. 
He is nothing to fear.
          He will tell you your destiny, for real.
If you heed his words, the circus performers will destroy your world.
          Make your life a living hell.
Do not do his will.
          Riddle, riddle, riddle and you shall live.
Do you believe?
          I tell the truth.
Stilts, the circus clown, is coming for you.

         On Halloween night, the adults gather their children around the barn fire.
They believe that this brought peace on Halloween night.
         But little did they know that Stilts was a real life who captivated 
humans' minds.
         Such behavior allows his spirit to rise.
And while everyone is outside, Stilts enters each house.
         The clock chimes on the hour of nine.
The barn fire is ceased and each family enters their homes for a good night sleep.
         Stilts would form to scare only the little ones.
The reality would be surreal.
         The lives in the Town would not ever tell.
Never again would the families be aware of Halloween night without fear.
         The town would thrive.
Stilts, a hideous depiction is now in their lives.
         Cross my heart and hope to die, if I am telling a lie.
___________________________________________|
Penned on May 07, 2014! Updated August 28, 2014!


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Death's Kiss

A cold dark night, whispers muttered, I fought for light, and then I uttered,
"Awake me from this nightmare, a black haunting I CANNOT BARE!"
opened my eyes jumped out of my bed, caught my breath, and nodded my head, only a dream,
then I said.

There need not be another that night so I stayed awake in fright,
in fright of that dream, that unbearable thought.

Then as I laid, eyes heavy and weary, so did I fade, into midnight dreary.
When suddenly I felt a presence of pain
a presence of evil, fear, and vain.

Onto the floor then came a drift, and with it fog and ice did sift.

"WHO GOES THERE!" I shouted, to which I doubted my feeble legs as I stood to the floor.
"It is I, Death."
Confused and confounded, I looked into the dark that surrounded, and quite astounded I saw
a monster appear
and to much of my dismay, its finger pointed my way.
"What do you want?" said I in fear "You." said monster, coming near.
"But so young am I" i did reply "Its an awful mistake, for you my life to take."

"Its no mistake, these I don't make." the creature did quake,
 
With wings of bone, scythe in one hand, he brought fear across the land
and still stood his finger, still at me it linger.
"NO!" I screamed and tried to flee, but move now I couldn't so quickly, for to my dismay
these legs did stay, a thousand pounds they did weigh.
"PLEASE, I BEG YOU, DO IMPLORE, I AM SO YOUNG AND LIFE I ADORE, YOU CANNOT TAKE ME, I NEED
NOT GO, PLEASE TELL ME WHY, THIS I MUST KNOW!"

So softly said death, in a single breath,
"No purpose is there, for death is not fair."
"You could be so young, but I do not care."
"And now you must bare what all will bare, Death's cold stare."
"But be not frightened, for with peace will you be enlightened. No more pain or sorrow,
this all I must borrow, until the morrow when all is no more."

His words like razors, cut through my heart
and with it peace, began to start.
For apart from the fear, the unsettled surprise
it dawned to me Death, had opened my eyes.
For life blistered my soul with a sore
that death would heal with its "No More"

"Ok" I said "Take life's pain from my head"
"Bring me peace, among the dead!"

And so quickly he came, and so quickly I went
and brought it no shame, and told it no hint
and with it he did, just as i was told
suddenly no pain, NO FEAR, NONE BEHOLD!
this all he did borrow until the morrow, when all is no more
and of it all i did hear, was just a faint hiss
then into the nothingness of abyss
did my peace come, with Death's Kiss.


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The Devil Made Me Do IT

Don’t believe what you may see 
for your eyes they do deceive thee 
everything they say 
poisoned with half truths and lies 
only rumors to stifle our way 

I couldn’t have done those things 
none of that was real 
just horrible awful dreams 
there was no color 
only lack of light 
that could not have been me that night 

It wasn’t like I had a choice 
no not even my own voice 
I wasn’t in control 
the darkness took me over 
trapped me in a room so cold 
then it locked the door 

You just don’t understand 
the shadows they sometimes need me 
their call I can’t defy 
they whisper what I need to do 
to them I must comply 
it’s not me, its them to blame 
the blood is on their hands 

Know the beating of my heart's what’s real 
it’s the only thing that is 
beats each beat for the love I feel 
together it says, forever it says 
always, you are mine 
I’d protect you with my last breath 
put it all out on the line 

I never would have hurt you 
that’s the one thing I wouldn’t do 
It wasn’t me, it couldn’t be 
it’s not my fault, I have no guilt 
this burden it won’t be mine 
the devil made me do it 
it was to him I built my shrine


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Alzheimer's



A quandary of memory 
stands here before me, 
with yesterday's long gone.
Fifty years ago, 
just like the minute before; 
I started this life long poem.
There's times it seems, 
the probable things, 
are lost on the tip of my tongue.
Every ladder I've climbed, 
is left behind,
pushed to years ago when I was young.
My friends let me know,
every detailed episode,
that pulls at my confused brain.
Is it present or past, 
and this time will it last,
never my mind to return to this day.
Solitude is my enemy,
but then again a friend to me,
for it's where I find in my mind,
the things I find so dear to me,
as I travel once more;  back in time.


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Smile

One cold Sunday morning 
I walked across the road
Cold wind striking my cheeks, leaving its bleeding marks
Hands stuffed in my pockets, feet peeping through my socks
I sat on the cold steps outside an old church
I had no other place to shelter.

People came and people went
Carrying heavy hymnals
Wearing pretty clothes within fancy coats, stockinged feet in striking shoes
Some threw me coins, some just passed by
Till a little one came running up, took my hands in his little ones
Looked up into my eyes and smiled.
That my friend, made me warm
Forget my hunger and made me strong
To look through this cold day 
And see another
Better and beautiful one.

The winter went and Summer came
I had a little shop by then
Fixing bicycle tyres, mending broken brakes
Hands covered with grease, forever on my knees
I sat on a little stool in my tiny rickety shed
I had a place now to shelter.

Children came and children went
Bringing bicycles old and new
Gaily painted shiny ones brought some, some ones battered by fond use
To some I was a friend, to others just a bicycle-man
Till one day came to my shed, my little friend who took my hands
And smiled at me on the cold stone steps.
He brought his sparkling new bicycle
Steady my handle, I can’t handle
This bicycle, it makes me tumble
In his eyes, I saw fear and hope
I bent down 
And studied the cycle spokes.

“My little friend”, to him I said
“The fear is only in your head
Climb on the seat, look only at the road ahead.”
I looked down at him, smiled and said, “I know you can.”
He looked back a long moment and smiled
He gripped the handle and rode, bold down the road.


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Creature

Observing. 
Frozen in time,
captivated by this enormous being,
the size of a small car.

Pondering, 
his every move.
The way he used his hands;
so child-like.
With all the consciousness of the world, 
and graceless coordination.

Aware.
of the visitors,
as they briefly called out for his attention.
Only for a moment,
then they were gone.

Untamed,
in an orderly sham. 
He sat there,
in his dark cave.
As if he was waiting for the light to find him.

Perched,
on a boulder, 
squatting, and primitive.
Drawing in the dirt with one hand. 
Swatting a fly with the other.

Surreal,
His nature,
as he rushed to consume his food.
The females hovered behind him,
watching intently, 
like me.
His movement mechanic.
His presence powerful.
He was the king of his domain.

Studying, 
his magnificence, I watched.
How smart was he?
Could he feel my presence? 
Engulfed in the very essence of all that was him, 
I watched. 

Wondering, 
how he felt, I watched.
Did he think he was still in the womb of Mother Nature?
Or, did he know the iron bars which embrace him now?

Then 
it happened;
our eyes met.
He noticed my presence.
His gaze intimidated me, 
But I did not look away.
He approached me.
I felt his eyes inspecting my soul.
A chill ran down my back,
I turned behind me,
only to find no other presence there.
When I turned back, 
we were face to face.
Separated by the sham,
And a two inch piece of glass.
Just me and him,
the two of us,
and the females hovering behind him.

Wise,
His old eyes spoke to me,
They said 
“I am like you. 
I love, I feel, I hurt.
I am, like you.”

Sympathetic,
I put my hand on the glass
and with all the 
consciousness of the world,
he did the same.
With tears in my eyes,
I smiled.

Then, he pooped in his other hand
and wiped it on the glass.
This was a sign of endearment.
I laughed out loud.
And I swear,
He smiled back.


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Psychotic Episode

I talk to myself in many voices
Having conversations with myself
Answering my own questions
Thinking it is something else
The mind can play tricks
If you let it

It can convince you of anything
The conscious and subconscious mind
At times feels separate
From each other
Not connecting as well as it could be
A detachment from the brain
Lost in translations
Of many conversations
To feel safe and calm
Within oneself

The fear of losing yourself
When no one hears or believes you
Feelings and thoughts
Put on a dusty shelf
Not everything is clear
But I am totally aware
Of what is going on
Many layers of words
Coming out of nowhere
Can scare the mind into submission

Eating pieces away of your soul
Losing control
Feeling all alone
In your psychotic turmoil
Who will be there in the end
If I go numb and cannot see
Love me as I am
Or set me free to be me


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A Declaration of Love

My wife maintained her spirit and humor all through the pre-op preparation process.  She 
joked and laughed with the nurses, assistants and doctors as they poked her, pushed her, squeezed her, took blood, took measurements, poked her some more and basically, just abused the hell out of her in preparation for what we knew was a serious operation.

Many of the healthcare professionals did not know what to make of her smiling face, 
sarcastic tone and bubbling humor as they were all well aware of the seriousness and risks involved with the upcoming surgical procedure.  But her good humor was unwavering.

In the six months since her dissection and the two months since the decision to perform this operation, my wife did her homework.  She knew exactly how serious her condition was and the risks involved with this necessary operation.  And yet, she kept her spirits high and her optimism never dipped.

When the anesthesiologist came out just minutes before they rolled her into the operating room and explained, for what seemed like the one thousandth time in the last two weeks, the risks and seriousness of her procedure, for the first time, I noticed signs of fear on her face and saw tears well up in her eyes. 

Holding my hand as we approached the operating room where I was to be left behind, she looked up at me and said, “Take care of yourself and our Spencer”.  The doors swung close and the six hour operation commenced.

It’s now seven days later and Cindy is well on her way to a full recovery.  The doctors could not be more pleased with how the surgery went and with the rapidity of her recovery.  There is no reason to believe that, within 8 – 10 weeks, she cannot be back to her normal, active self.

She is back to joking, being sarcastic and a regular pain in everyone’s ass – she is slowly 
becoming Cindy again.

I will never forget, however, in the one second of fear and worry, how her concerns were 
about the well-being of me and our son – and, not about herself.

I love you Cindy Flach.

And, I hope that if you ever decide to read any of my poems – given you do not understand my obsession with writing these silly things – I hope like hell, you choose to read this one.

Welcome home, love.


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The Picture of a Poet

I am watching the picture of a poet
He seems so strong and determined
His face is poised and sure
Suddenly, I see the nearly unnoticeable
Glint of fear in those dark eyes 
That seemed to whisper:
``What would happen if they really knew me?``
But only briefly could these words be heard
For he is a tower, tall and fortified
 ‘’Does this fear really exist?’’
I ask myself as I ponder
Looking into his dark eyes
‘’Yes, it does,’’ they answer
And they start telling me 
With defiant intensity that
His weakness is his strength
Our eyes met and that moment
Is rooted in my mind
Utterly, eternally


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Patty Trahoon

When problems seem so far away
And worries appear under bay
And night draws its shadow on day
But listen I’ve something to say
It just might be death’s afternoon
This legend of Patty Trahoon

Some say he is all in our head
Some choose to stay quiet instead
While some run for safety of bed
He’ll be upon us really soon
Aware of the things which were said
This one they call Patty Trahoon

Brave people don’t often recall
Exactly how the mighty fall
Or what turns a mind to a loon
Is not what they dwell on at all
When they know there’s no way to stall
The terror of Patty Trahoon

Oh mothers kiss children goodnight
And stay with them under this moon
But don’t let your eyes close too tight
Stay weary of oncoming blight
That shadow that just stole that light
Might just be this Patty Trahoon

When dawn brings an end to this tune
And hope again welcomes the sun
They laugh at a tale that was spun
For all a new day has begun
For all that is except for one
Now taken by Patty Trahoon


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Darkness by Jacqueline Arias 7th grade

It's dark in this room.
    No light to shine.
No one to say hi
    but I'm filled with fright.

No one can see
    The fright inside of me
but the darkness is spreading
    all around me.

There is no future.
    Neither a past.
The present is here
    but it won't last.


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Dead in winter contest

As I sit here waiting for the last bus run of the night
Memories of what just happened play in my brain filled with fright

I can barely feel my little toes
There was no time for socks I had to just go

The sirens still echo in my frostbitten ears
Frozen drops attempt to become my tragic tears

Last I recall we were doing just fine
A Pillow fight and a glass of red wine

His mother called us down for dessert
Suddenly my throat began to hurt

He squeezed until I could no longer scream
This night of joy became a horrible dream

His brown eyes transformed to a devilish deep red
I’ll never forget the words he quietly said

“I could kill you and no one would know”
In my mind I begged for him to let go

What possessed him I will always wonder
Thank God his mother came up and banged on the door like thunder

I had no idea he had moved his dresser in front of the exit of the room
I was convinced I had met my eternal doom

While he was yelling for his mother to go the hell away
I jumped up fast and she heard me say

"Help he’s mad get me out of here"
She broke down the door and I ran out in fear

Last I heard him throw her down the stairs
I was long gone and extremely unprepared

I heard him behind me screaming my name
I kept on running in utter shame

He ran so fast and knocked me down
I fell flat on the icy ground

“Your mine forever don’t you leave”
I slipped out of my jacket sleeve

Down the hill I went rolling
As if my body was being used for bowling

The cops went racing up the mound
I heard him scream, so I know he was found

I have no phone no car or coat
Just three dollars and a crumpled up note

In my jeans from earlier that day
I should have listened to what it had to say

“Stay away from my son; you have no idea what he has done”
“Charming you may think but just like all the others you too will sink”

Now it all makes sense
He told me his mother was mentally ill and dense

He is the one who is severely deranged
I must get home this night has been exceedingly strange

As I rehearse this the bus finally pulls up to me
My stomach is in knots and I can barely see

Blood is streaming down my face
I just want to get out of this crazy place

Why is the man driving wearing a big black hood
I am so cold and devastated; thinking is doing me absolutely no good

The doors slam shut as I quickly sit down
I am the only one that seems to be around

I look in the rear view mirror and what do I see
Those chilling red eyes once again devouring me.

BY: Sabina Nicole


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Firestorm

Fire, fire around us…

Fire burning from the top of the mountain,
 down to the sea surrounded by fire…

Grass, brush, and trees are just glowing ambers…

Fire fighters on the ground while water dropping 
helicopter are all around, drawing up water from the
 sea, brought back to drop over the hot spots …

Here come the water tankers they are a blessing 
between them and the helicopters we should soon see relief…

Such a shame what fire does, and it was that 
idiot playing around, like to look at the flame dancing…

Water shred gone homes burnt to the ground
and yet that idiot is still running around…

What justice we should have to put these fools behind 
bars, lock them up and throw away the key…

Firestorms are nothing you want to see, and when the 
season gets hot and dry who are the nut cases that televise… 

Newspaper and newscaster should learn a thing or 
two keep there opinions to themselves for all they  
do is let those idiots know when prime time to burn…  

When property is lost you can rebuild but
 when a life is lost they are gone for good…

By Sandra Lea Hoban 
©2012


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Hurt and You Could Have it All

upstairs in my room
i put my ear to the floor
only to hear my parents screaming
the argument is about me
my mom yells "look at what your son has become!"
Heartless, unintelligent, fake...
my father replies back
"hes your son, hes your own pile of dirt!"
whenever my family is out together
we act happy like these fights never happen
but every night they do and i cant tell anyone
i have to act like someone else in order not to get introuble
What have i become?...hurt..dishonest..will this feeling dissapear?
I will drag you down and i will make you hurt..
I lift my head from the floor
still hearing the angry voices of my parents
i found an old needle, and i dug it into my skin
the next morning i go downstairs
with a cut off shirt on, and baseball shorts
My father grabs my arm
"what is this boy?"
i yank my hand away from him and i sit down on a chair
"its nothing sir"
my father repeats "are you cutting yourself?, why?"
i grab my bookbag and i disapear out the door
My father runs outside pulling me to the ground
"are you cutting yourself boy?!" he screams
i say "no sir i just scrapped my arm on my dresser"
My father grabs my face
"you better not cut yourself again" he replies
He hits my face, as i lay on the ground.
I didnt wake up until i felt something wet drip on my face
it was raining and dark outside
i run into the house and into the bathroom
looking into the mirror i see the bruise that was left on my face
My father wasnt home and my mother went to bed
"everything goes away in the end right, if i let him have it all, my moms pile of dirt?"
I sit upon my liars chair full of broken memories i cannot repair 
I become someone else, but the old me is still right there
if i could start again a million miles away i would keep myself
i will find my way



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Fear of the Unknown by Johanny Espinal 7th grade

I'm hiding inside
     the fear of 
being misunderstood. 
The sky would turn gray.

Fear of the unknown
   Fear of confusion
My fears blind me....
to the
      truth,
          to hope.

Fear of the good.
  Fear of the bad.
So let me think....
   what else 
  do I fear?


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Red Eyes and Sinister Looks

Chains, hay forks, knives, and a hollow whisper,
become more true and sinister.
Halt in the middle of the moon light, 
and a waver image soon is no delight.
Voices run a muck in the head, 
so not calming you wish you were dead.
Gushing blood through the eye
not an image that you would rely.
Nails stuck on your neck with such pain
so your paralyze just little life sustain.
Hoodlums terrorizing people running a muck
did not really know they are in luck.
More dangerous beings are out their
to commit such act and with sinister stare.
Laughing with haunting echo's through
is an aspect of fear can imbue.
The wind changes direction to smother
the echoing sound of laughter.
The panicking state that you are in
soon drives a knife within.
Blood rushing out of your vain
a crucial part of your life dropping like rain.
Running without a destination
you will never reach anyone of your relation.
Sliding your body on a wall
keeping your fall in a stall.
Red eyes you can see it at night
is soon devouring you with little bite.
Changing your belief with tonics of relief
and it is to late to turn a new leaf.
Ears start to deceive the animals sound
eating limbs are chewing around.
Slowly your red eyes steadily getting heavy
is starting to take your life with a levy.
Dropping down with no attitude
and your life force slowly loses altitude.
Breathing comes not so easy
smelling flesh seems so beastly.
The change comes a desire
with frightening red eyes of fire.
Comes more lethal than the hoodlums 
your heart beating like drums.
Your hand becomes all fury
claws come out and your howl with furry.
Trance your in with no one to blame
a rage thats hundreds of centuries of flame.
Rising from a slumber of long lust
a animal instinct that you can trust.
Tearing things apart with no meaning
is a trait that is so deceiving.
Red eyes at night you see in a window
like a poisonous black widow.
Keeps you in attack mode of insanity
that takes all your vanity.
Ferocious emotions eating away
the soul that you had once betray.
The echoing sounds of loud thunder
breaks away the armor with sunder.
You fall once again to torturous agony
the feeling of one self is so lonely.
Shaking in the corner you are found
with blood soaked skin you drowned.
The night becomes day cruel in some way
your memories go in disarray.
The hunters with torches and sinister look
had parted way their hands shook.


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''Awake''

I lye here weak,alone,feeling helpless.
If only my muffled thoughts were clear.
Wounds cover,yet pain is not displayed.
The sound of rushing feet.
Through brush and thorns bright lights surrounds me.
In the darkest of nights my end was near.
Determined mind I was found awake~


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The Locklears Chapter Seven

Entering the superior courtroom Rusty took a look around.  "Look at all these 
scum bags.  I want to kill everyone of them" Rusty thought to himself.  As he 
approached the bench the inmates was led in by an officer.  After exchanging 
a few words with the judge Rusty took his place by his client's side.  The 
prosecutor presented the case to the judge.  "Your honor this is Victoria 
Freeman.  She is charged with prostitution and drug smuggling".  
Enterrupting the prosecutor Rusty argued on his client's behalf.  "Your honor 
my client was not smuggling drugs.  The marijuana she had was for her own 
personal use".  Cutting off Rusty the prosecutor said "she had the marijuana 
stashed inside her vagina judge".   "Judge my client only had three grams, 
this is her first offense, and she didn't cross state lines".  "No judge the 
defendant smuggled it in jail when she was booked".  "Your honor she told 
the officers about the marijjuana.  So how is that smuggling?"  "Mr. Locklear 
the drug smuggling charge will be thrown out but the prostitution charge will 
stay.  I'm well aware of this being your client's first offense".  "Your honor 
my client has been in jail for a hundred days.  I'm asking for time served".  
"Granted Mr. Locklear and Ms. Freeman stay out of trouble".
Written by Keith Edward Baucum aka Red Seven aka The Green Poet aka The 
Brown Philosopher


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The Sea Blue Eyes I

Once in a while I meet a person whose eyes tell their story
The story is like the sky reflection on the seas of glory
The eyes are all the wonder of the world
It sees the future, past, and present
The eyes give us knowledge of the world and reflection
The reflection of sadness and weakness of each creature
The wonder of each individual being has a present
To the world who has lots of false images
To arise the moment of that one glance
To follow the heart in romance
Just the reflection that gather in your eyes of blue
What a man and a woman should view
Life is such a pain without stopping to see each eyes
Its like roses you have to enjoy each passion in side
When that moment collides with mind and heart
Nothing in your soul can keep your love apart
Join in the fun look in every eyes of a person beside
With passion and romance I bet you, you would cry
The luster of all the things to come
A bounty of life long needs to be given by just the wonders of the eyes
The blue seas reflects the different depths of our feelings
And it should become revealing
Come to your senses with ravaging hormones of lust
The sea can take you and even the reflection in the eyes of the person
The beauty is not held by one it is held by everyone
Such looks with fear for no relief
Is almost a dreadful part in our human nature
Beware of what can happen when emotions are held
Held to the core of an individual
No such thing is kindness when you find yourself in the Sea Blue Eyes
Calling in your soul by just looking
With ignorance you play around with such futile emotion
Gush away the fear and do not go insane with life so dear
The grasp of the titans comes to reveal
The evil within your heart is so obscenely noticed
You want the sea and you want those eyes to look at you with wishes
The rage in the heart are waves that cannot stop 
It pushes and pushes with no regret
The heart falters and there is only one thing in your mind
The idea of one soul to be with is the ocean 
The rifts that is trying to break to end the wants of desire
Cannot be trusted in a human lier
The beauty of man is destruction 
The beauty of women are commands
The eyes of each does not matter in the sea
Because all emotion and desire is given to those who are true
Command of a person is just one thing 
The desire to destroy is another
The Sea Blue Eyes will see no bother cause it bares it all
Even the utmost desire
To be continue.


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What Can I Do

Forgive me God for my
evil thoughts

I am just so upset…

Life has not been happy of late,
 that’s because a bad person is here…

Keeps harassing me with phone calls…

Blaming me for there bad luck…

I just want them out of my hair, 
that why I have been having 
these evil thoughts…

Changing my phone numbers
 haven’t worked, I just don’t
 know where to turn…

Because my life had not been 
threatened the authorities won’t 
take intervention…

So I ask for your forgiveness 
and pray that you can help
me through this…

For I fear that worst things may happen…

By Sandra Lea Hoban
©2012


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Light On the Devil's Chord -part 3-

In a deep sleep, I fell upon the fields, tired, rejuvenated, and blessed
Wandering in many a dream

A warm sun creeping from the heavy cream clouds woke me up
And I felt His presence once again
Sitting up, I rubbed my weary eyes and smiled sadly,
"He...He spoke to me, and He granted me love, with dreams of hills,
Prairies filled with sunflowers, hares dashing about in joy,
The soft rains from supple clouds tickled my frowns to smiles,
And a turkey from afar winked at me with knowing assurance."

Christ lifted me up and kissed my forehead gently,
"My silly, lovely sister, good morning,
Come with me. . .
We shall talk for a little while,
And then you will be away for a time."

His expression grew grim...

"Yes, my sister, lessons will be learned,
Keep your faith, and your heart will guide you,
Do not give in to the lies of the ancient serpent,
Whom you will see in a very short while
Talk with him, be with him,
But if his claws wrap around your innocent throat,
I am told to not intervene, for this is the test God has given you"

I looked at Christ lovingly and embraced him
"Thanks be to God, for this gift of opportunity,
Tell me how long with the serpent shall I stay?"

He held me tightly for a moment, 
Then looked at me with tears in his eyes

"The Lord God Almighty had visited me last night,
Telling Me to take you to the pit,
Where Satan and his demons thrash,
And for 40 days and 40 nights you shall remain there,
Then you shall see how his mind decays in his ways
That his pride and his servitude of lies and murder slashes all thought of change
That repentance to him, is failure, weakness, and far below him..
You shall soon see if it is possible to save one that does not wish to be saved"

I took Christ's hands
"Do not be afraid for me, my brother,
I am ready for this test
I am ready to face him and give my say,
Though my purpose is risky,
My heart is filled with Your grace, 
And I know even in darkness, God is there
Perhaps I mean not to save him,
But to understand him
I only hope You see the strength in me to fulfill such a thing"

Smiling, He lifted me in the air and twirled me
"Oh precious, magnificent sister!
I never doubt your strength,
For your glory reflects off the face of your Almighty Father
Your questions have filled His heart with gladness and warmth,
Your innocence is precious and fills Him with joy
Testing you, He has no doubt-
Though know mistakes can be made, and will be no less dire
Therefore, be wary in the dark,
For in it you will face illusion, sadness, desire, anger, and all evil shrouding,
No good advice will be given along the way,
It is merely you and Satan, eye to eye 
And the terrible shrieks of the demons at his feet still shall tempt"

Departing from Christ with few last words,
He lead me to the bottomless pit, which is sealed and impenetrable
Advising me to wait, He disappeared from view,
The last of the light I would witness, fading into the mysterious eve

I stared at the mighty seal in awe
Rough rock and black soot surrounding the dread inside...


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Fear at Home by Justin Thompson 8th grade

Sitting on the garage floor
I hear a noise right by the door.
I'm scared to see what it can be
and out comes a snake crawling
right toward me.
I screamed in fear and yelled at
Granny.
She's the reason it got in
the pantry.
Dad is angry and yelled at 
me. Now I'm punished with
no phone to speak.


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The Locklears Chapter Two

With fear in his eyes the shackled man 
asked who they were.  "My name is Linda 
Locklear and this 
is my husband Rusty Loclear".  "Enough 
with the small talk Linda go get the work 
tools".
"As you command daddy".  Walking past 
their victim into the darkness Linda 
grabbed the cold steel push cart
and brought it to Rusty.  "Will you just look 
at all these toys" Rusty's eyes lit up like a 
child's at Christmas.
"What do we have here?"  Reaching her 
arm out in the motion of a snake Linda 
became sexually aroused.
"We have a hamer, scalpel, acid, nail gun, 
and an ice pick" Linda's voice was filled 
with excitement.  Pissing himself
their victim began to cry.  "Linda this is 
your victim you have to inflict the first 
wound".  Responding to Rusty's words 
Linda picked up the nail gun.  "Linda you 
don't have to do this" pleaded the man.  "I 
have kids that I provide for,  My 
name is Timothy Yates,  I have a wife".  
Linda silenced Timothy with a swift kick to 
his testicles.  "Look Rusty it actually think 
we 
care about it's pathetic little life".  Placing 
the muzzle of the nail gun on Timothy's 
foot.  Linda pulled the trigger.  Firing a 
hard sharp
nail into Timothy's foot.  Blood squrited 
into the air.  
Written by Keith Edward Baucum aka The 
Brown Philosopher aka The Green Poet


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THE SINS OF SOCIETY

The mid-sixties weren't fun for a teen working...
I put foot on this prosperous and beautiful land
and looked forward to a great future,
but my plan didn't go as smoothly
as I thought it would have instead.
My question was, " Go to College, 
earn a degree or help mother and sisters? "
I choose to help them procrastinating.
From job to job I went hardly missing a day realizing what it would have cost me, 
but wages stayed the same or rarely increased much,
I loved to work and earn my weekly paycheck;
sadly, many boys of my age were drafted and went to war...
some returned, many didn't and being the only son,
they didn't draft me but witnessing the horror, the sadness, the crying of soldiers, 
and seeing all that: was like being there where the sky exploded with fire and smoke.
Isn't fate the course that nobody can predict regardless how scientists envision it...
if it were so easy to foresee, all would have control over it and all catastrophes
could be avoided to save millions of lives? Doesn't the Bible warn us to shun divination?
It's the sinful mind, the greedy heart, the unfaithful spouse, the disobedient child
making us stand at the crossroads deciding which steps to take to prevent a tragedy.


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A part of me

A part of me is dying
There is no point left in crying

Everything is wrong,
and my heart has been bonged.
Im left confused
not knowing what to do.

The world has lost its mind
And now a part of me 
dies cause you never noticed
me crying while i lie dying.


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The Locklears Chapter Two

"Poor, poor, little man I'm not a prostitute. 
I just pose as one on the internet and in 
the streets.  That's how I get pigs like you"
said the woman with an evil grin.  "I know 
you didn't think a woman
as beautiful as my wife would be 
interested in someone like you."  Said a 
tall figure as he emerged out 
of the darkness behind the shackled man.  
With fear in his eyes the shackled man 
asked who they were.
"My name is Linda Locklear and this is my 
husband Rusty Locklear."  "Enough with 
the small talk Linda go 
get the work tools."  As you command 
daddy".  Walking past their victim into the 
darkness Linda grabbed the 
cold steel push cart and brought it to 
Rusty.  "Will you just look at all these toys"  
Rusty's eyes lit up like a child's at
Christmas.  "What do we have here?"  
Reaching her arm out in the motion of a 
snake
Linda became sexually aroused.  "We 
have a hammer, scalpel, acid, nail gun, 
and an ice pick"
Linda's voice was filled with excitement.
Written by Keith Edward Baucum aka The 
Green Poet aka Red Seven aka The Brown
Philosopher


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Fear by Victoria Cloin 8th grade

The lights are out
I cannot see
I have a strange feeling...
Who is there?

The lights are out
I'm all alone
I hear sounds...
What's out there?

The lights are out
I cannot sleep
It's dark and I cannot see...
What was that noise?

The lights are on
I feel much better
I see and hear nothing...
I can finally sleep


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The Sea Blue Eyes II

There she is the false image standing quietly
She is just standing looking at a beautiful flower
She notices her passion of earthy desire
Something is happening she burst into the sun
I look up as her hands grasp my face
Her sea blue eyes gazed at me
Her warm hand and then a bright light blinded me
I went down on my knees and cried
The salty water dropped on to the ground 
I live by the ocean so deep
I do not know how to swim
By the thought of a beautiful look 
That made me shake
With fear in my head I saw those Sea Blue Eyes
I cannot restrain myself she burst into the sun
What is going on is it just the feeling of being left behind
She was a desire and now I have none
Driving nuts and insane what will I do
Believing such a image is a dream
I walk on the sand by the ocean with flowers in my hand
Raising it to the sky and trying my best to lure her
The image came close 
It pulled me into the ocean I was soaked
What a lonely human being I am
I grope the sky with such desire
I look pitiful and look anguished
What horrible feeling I have to pull the beauty that is nature down
The wind blew one day the image once more appeared
A young woman standing beside a flower with deep Sea Blue Eyes
Looked at me a glance of hope and happiness came
I reached for her and all of a sudden I fell into a deep sleep
Months past they had told me that I jump off a cliff 
They explained that the flower patch was by it
I realize heaven and earth cannot be reached with out a sacrifice
With meaningless thoughts I would wonder of to the cliff area
To see the ocean were it meets and ends
I was told a story long ago that the feelings of the ocean can seep into your soul
The trend of this story came shortly after some deaths
I was fooled the lady with the Sea Blue Eyes can manipulate anyone
Ladies and men, she is an illusion of the utmost desire
Blaming everyone human kind knowing they are lyres
The ghostly images that creeps everyone is oneself
Desire falls upon those who are lonely 
Believe of the unnatural becomes science
The Sea Blue Eyes is no lie cause they have been taking souls
Through century they have been taking souls for tolls
I stood once again near the ocean reaching to the sky
Lonely I was ready to disappear 
One day she not the lady of the sea it was the one I knew
I was blessed that day she embrace me 
I then fell into a slumber of bliss and desire
Now I just hear voices and I am paralyze down
A disappointment I was fooled once more by the Sea Blue Eyes 

To be continue.


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Forgotten Fate

Introduction: For those who’re wandering confused within the lost and found - seeking silence…


Truth be never futile Stay and see awhile, Call back your forgotten dreams And feel that frozen smile, Linger of Love be worth eternal wait; When the time is right – That verity we do still hate And later we wind up too late, There forth we get lost in fate We get bemused with our innate That we can’t still relate, Don’t take on yourself as bate As never you trust an inmate, Our hopes and thoughts they fade away And we just see closed gates, So slay the lies, dig up the truth Someday you shall find, your forgotten fate…


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Top of the roof

Daddy told us not too, while Mom sourly warned. Though they scolded, loud and clear, we devilishly disobeyed. Up on that roof top, at least 30 feet from ground, carelessly balancing on the shingles, one step, two we were so young, so adventurous, the nights lasted decades, while the stars evaporated fear, they smiled at our virgin eyes, and when a gust of wind would catch our balance, we'd lay under the ratty quilt grandma made. The night sky was so full of life, a serenity in a chaos of lights, forever rotating yet a fulfilling stillness, the kind that cannot be broken Until the day we got caught. Daddy yelled while we ran threw the window, preparing for the worst, hearing Mom's fear in curses, we both sat quietly, reminiscing on that freedom, that longing for serenity. After taking in the fear- we went up to our rooms, and after one tapping on the wall between us, we both met at the window once more.


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Ego or Truth

All I have is one external voice
But I have many internal voices
Not the kind of voices that make me crazy
Although the natural struggle is a bit insane

So many thoughts to express with my words
So many words to express with my voice
Expression is subjective
But my voice is absolute

There is a struggle between ego and truth
Ego is judgment, jealousy, envy, rage and hate
Truth is only love.

The rollercoaster cycle is inevitable
I choose to move through it with grace
And take lessons from it

It’s the natural cycle of things
Up, down, round, and round loop the loop
Then come back down

Then strait and still, 
back to love, back to truth
My voice is absolute


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Who Am I by Toi Ruiz 7th grade

Dark and alone
wondering who's listening.
Terrified of who I've become.
The fear inside of me is out of control.

I'm the only one
who can see it.
Scared! Terrified! Alone!

Dark and alone
wondering who's listening.
Terrified of who I've become.
The fear inside of me is out of control.


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The Locklears Chapter Six

Rusty went and put the trash bags with 
Timothy's remains onto the back of his 
1990 black ram truck.  Rusty drove 
throughout the city of Green Haven and 
dumped Timothy's body parts in 
dumpsters on the north side, east side, 
west side, and south side of Green Haven.  
Returning home the smell of bleach, Pine 
Sol, and other cleaning products greeted 
him at the door.  "Linda I'm back".  "Come 
down to the basement Rusty.  Well this 
was the best Sunday I ever had".  The rays 
of the sun came peeking in through the 
bedroom window of Rusty and Linda 
Locklear.  "Linda get up it's time to get 
ready for work".  "Five more minutes Rusty 
just five more".  "We've already over slept.  
Get up".  Stretching out her arms Linda 
got up and headed to the bathroom.  "I'm 
using this shower.  You can use the other 
shower".  The two of them hit the showers
and got ready for work.  "Rusty who are you
defending today in court?"  "I'm defending 
this drug addicted, drug smuggling 
prostitute.  We'll talk after work.  I want to 
hear about what went on at Pine Needle 
Hospital today" grabbing his briefcase 
Rusty left for work.  Pulling into the 
parking lot of Green Haven courthouse 
Rusty parked and went inside.  Entering 
the superior courtroom Rusty took a look 
around . "Look at all these scum bags.  I 
want to kill everyone one of them" Rusty 
thought to himself.  As he approached the 
bench the inmates was led in by an 
officer.  After exchanging a few words with 
the judge Rusty took his place by his 
client's side.  The prosecuter presented the 
case to judge.
Written by Keith Edward Baucum aka The 
Brown Philosopher aka The Green Poet


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1861

1861

Dust rises from the rutted road.  Cannon laden caissons rumble slowly forward.  A red sun competing with the campfires glow. Weary troops break camp, joining the ranks of
colleagues on the move. An enemy, unseen, lays before them, waiting to exact a deadly blow.

Bellowed orders cut through the hushed encampment, bugles sound, urgency pervades.  Battle lines are drawn, men marching, resolve and fear etched upon their hearts.

Artillery from behind sing the opening anthem. Flashes on the horizon acknowledging their song.  In quickstep they press toward the waiting army, searching til they face the long gray line.

A fusillade rips through the forward soldiers, leaving death and carnage in its wake. A
row of men drop in lines of destruction, their cries of pain soon muted by the battles call.
Panicked faces seek cover as their Captains, yell and threaten, urging them on.

Deadly canister screams overhead, delivering their fingers of death,   Fragments of life left littering the field. “Close ranks” the Captain cries. “Rally round the colors.” In the
face of death the army presses onward, drummer boys beating cadence on their drums.

Smoke and bodies soon consume the landscape, fragments of lives lost, attesting to the
horrors of the day. On and on the contest rages. Giving, taking, winning, losing, dying. 
Until welcome darkness cloaks the field of battle, forcing war to take a short respite

In darkened fields, litter bearers rummage through a broken army.  Seeking those whose ravaged bodies won’t surrender, selecting those who might still have a chance.

Hot tears run down the face of hardened soldiers, gripped by a mix of anger, fear and
sorrow. Mourning for the sons and brothers taken. Respecting those that they must leave behind.

Unknown to them this is but a beginning.  A scene to be replayed so many times.  Our
nation would become a blood soaked homeland. Each side sure that they were on His side.

Time would leave its scars upon our nation.  Destroying in an effort to unite.  A terrible
price would be exacted. With the lives of many men it would be paid  


The War Between The States officially ended April 9, 1865.  The conflict cost 624000 lives.


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wish not



  spoken words speak no more

  lies fall beneath me

  complexes of the mind break into cubes

  working the body endlessly
  
  close my restless being

  fully awake i am or once was

  fingertips grasp at a fading figure miles away

  over the hill the water rises

  eyes peer through me over the waterfalls ahead

  running faster and faster 

 and still I stay

  running in place

  his voice calls my name

  and it falls as a whisper

  as I turned my head to learn direction

  lost i scream

  the sky falls dark

  he is at a distance i cannot reach

  help

  he pulls me from his soul

  


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The Locklears Chapter One

"Wakey, wakey, sleepy head" the woman's 
voice was cheerful
and playful as she threw a glass of cold 
water in the unconscious 
man's face.  "Wha, wha, what happened? 
Did I fall asleep?"  As
the man opened his eyes he tried to move 
but couldn't.  Looking around
he realized he was in an upright position 
eagle spread.  Each wrist and
ankle was shackled, locked, and chained.  
"I'm not into locks and chains.  I'm the one 
paying for sex you have to do 
what I want".  The man's words were 
slured as he looked at the woman.   "Poor, 
poor, little man
I'm not a prostitute.  I just pose as one on 
the internet and in the streets. 
That's how I get pigs like you" said the 
woman with an evil grin.  "I know you
didn't think a woman as beautiful as my 
wife would be interested in someone like
you" said a tall figure as he emerged out 
of the darkness behind the shackled man.
with fear in his eyes the shackled man 
asked who they were.  "My name is Linda 
Locklear
and this is my husband Rusty Locklear".
Written by Keith Edward Baucum aka Red 
Seven aka The Brown Philosopher aka 
The Green Poet


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The Locklears Chapter Six

Rusty went and put the trash bags with Timothy's remains onto
the back of his black 1990 Ram truck.  He drove throughout the
city of Green Haven and dumped Timothy's body parts in dumpsters
on the north side, east side, west side, and south side of Green Haven.
Returning home the smell of bleach, Pin Sol, and other cleaning products
greeted him at the door.  "Linda I'm back".  "Come down to the basement
Rusty.  Well this was the best Sunday I ever had".
The rays of the sun came peeking in through the bedroom window of Rusty
and Linda Locklear.  "Linda get up it's time to get ready for work".  "Five 
more minutes Rusty just five more".  "We've already over slept.  Get up".
Stretching out her arms Linda got up and headed to the bathroom.  "I'm 
using this shower.  You can use the other shower".  The two of them hit 
the showers and got ready for work.  "Rusty who are you defending today
in court?"  "I'm defending this drug addicted, drug smuggling prostitute.
We'll talk after work.  I want to hear about what went on at Pine Needle
Hospital today".  Grabbing his briefcase Rusty left for work.  Pulling into 
the parking lot of Green Haven courthouse Rusty parked and went inside.
Entering the superior courtroom Rusty took a look around.  "Look at all these
scum bags.  I want to kill everyone of them" Rusty thought to himself.  As he
aproached the bench the inmates was led in by an officer.
Written by Keith Edward Baucum aka The Brown Philosopher aka The Green 
Poet aka Red Seven


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Death and beyond

Hours transpired like every other day. Perched on the trees, sparrows chirped, keeping the dreadful silence at bay, and sunlight across the land, whipped. Laid there on the grassy lawn, was a lovely lass dressed in a corset. Smelling the blossoms like a fawn, enchanted was she by nature's best. Up the hill ran a hysterical lad, his face as white as a sheet, shattered her heart to more than just a shard, and made her swoon to her feet. Minutes rolled to hours, and hours to days, and there she sat like a stone. With her eyes so lifeless and cold, her once rosy lips now as dry as a bone. Draining her blood was her soul, turning her visage as of a ghoul. Neither did she eat, nor drink, as she stooped over life's brink. Deep down was an endless bottom, which her rotting psyche couldn't fathom. The day came when her eyes lit up, like a hopeless spark in a dark cavern. She let go and set her eyes on the stars afar, and said "I'll be there wherever you are".


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The Wanderer Returns by Ron Porter

Across the vastness of the silver sea of pain,
in a cave in the land of "I don't know",
a moonclad maiden waits and weeps,
embroidering her comely countenence
with copious corpulet crystalline tears
and, fears his ship won't make return

On the marble temple porch of devotion,
betwixt obsidian statues of dolphins at play,
a duo of disciples lean close in lovers' embrace,
and watch the lone ship run ahead of the storm.
On the waves of the bay, a full moon reflected
unspoken hopes that, in two breasts does burn

On the slopes of the mountain of nameless fear;
alone in the apex chamber of an alabaster spire.
He watches the waves from his window dark;
the Prince of Intentions marks the single sail-
a patch in the dark and, tries hard to intuit:
just how much did the wanderer learn?

Hard drives the wind now, rowers bend their backs;
they outpace the tempest but just barely so.
Blood-dark seas slowly grow furious and feral;
a lone  lean figure stans stiff at the prow.
So close now and again, yet so far from the shore, of
the hallowed home for which his heavy heart doth yearn.
 
Ror he said when he left he would come again;
nor be stayed by dire deed, death or disaster.
Now his resolve races with the storm's coming fury.
Only five more leagues but which will prove faster?


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Mistaken Identity

As the line’s listless structure leapt into attentive control;
It’s purpose for existence instantly acknowledged.

The double-tapered weight-forward shooting line’s condensation,
Informed of its instant transformation,
Leaps to the water’s corresponding constitution,
Each droplet acting as spherical asteroids of deception on the current’s rippling surface.

Instantly, a silent connection has arisen.
One derived out of technology,
Entombed in the cosmology of the seasons,
Originating before explorations in genetics.

Taking solice in a meal of two moons,
How could one resist this temptuos delight?
Emerging with swarms of life; Analgous in size, shape, and color,
Cleaverly disguised in the guile of organic structure.


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Sam, I am

If I had a secret that I wanted to share with you Dare you open your mind and let my creativity ensue? I don’t build bridges with bricks, I hang them with rope I can generate your fantasies and incubate your hope Open the pages of my mind, reading the fiery words of my heart Enter Pandora’s Box, and the epic journey will start! Follow me down south, through the mirror of liquid glass You’ll feel the calmness take over and watch the fear pass What a wonderful feeling, letting your inhibitions go into the night Now step forward onto the phoenix, as you drift into the light This journey isn’t everlasting, you know that it comes with a price? What? Did you think it was free? wouldn't that have been nice Open your eyes from delusion, and friend you will piece things together My name is Sam, Satan or The devil, that’s how I'll been known as forever! OK, so I tricked you, with my words and devilish charm What were you expecting? I’m frigging Satan dude, my job is sadistic harm! You look at me with those puppy dog eyes, you realise you've lost all of your family ties My head tells me to give you a second chance, double or quits is where my desire lies Do you accept the new twist, on my board game that is your life? I’ll take that hesitant nod as a yes, and commence this game of strife Give me the name of a family member and they can take your place However I will warn you, if you can’t then I win this twisted race No! You scream, and that’s your final answer which I’ll have to take Now I own not only your soul, but your families when they next shall wake He took my hand and promised peace for my sisters and brothers Now I’ve gambled with the devil and he owns my beloved others The deal is now done and a fiery rain begins to fall Burning me down to ash, disintegrating my world and all


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Gathering Strom

storm clouds gather 
in the gray of your eyes 
clearly I see the rage in you rise 
my heart starts to pound 
at my imminent demise 
knowing what’s coming 
the feeling, it’s numbing 
your hatred is clear 
even through the blur of my tears 
but I’ll weather this storm 
a routine that’s become our norm 
the bruises I’ll hide 
to no one will I confide 
for fear of being alone 
scarier than any violence you’ve shown 
because this too shall pass 
only a few moments will it last 
you’re always sorry, so very sorry 
holding me in your arms crying 
I know that you’re trying 
my tears become yours 
forgiveness your eye implores 
I should not have pushed you so 
knowing where the argument would go 
you tell me you love me 
so gentle you can be 
so tender your touch 
next time I’ll remember 
not to push so much





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The Journey to Tomorrow

They said the sun would always, rise up when it has set yet, the shadows of the night just seem to grow. My footprints keep on writing, they tell the tale that’s passing, but the storyline just seems to flow. They said the journey was safe, I lace my way through danger, this was not the way it was meant to go. I worked my way through forests, climbing up the hills of Dante, and my inferno was the snow. Suddenly the snow was melting, spreading out to a horizon, the valley of the flowers began to glow. Behind I heard the screaming, in front I saw the colours, my final choice was which way to go.....


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He Has Me

He Has ME

You act like a victim my dear

Though I promise you, you're not the victim here

We did absolutly nothing to you

But if you want to act like we did that go ahead and do

We dont really care what you have to say

Because we would rather you just walk away

You are simply drama that no one needs

So dear stop with the pointless pleads

No one cares what you have to say

When you messed with his head in that way

You may regret leaving him honey

But that doesnt change the fact that he has me

Only insecure people want revenge dear

SO just think about how YOU must APPEAR


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Rape My Future

I want to hide in the closet
My heart jumps with fear
I wish I wasn't here
The arguing begins to come to an end 
Tears began to escape my eyes
The shadow that locks my view
Is so cruel and devious 
I lock the door in fear 
Of what lurks in the shadows
What lurks beyond that door
The door knob turns with creaks of misery
The thought of what the cruel shadow might do 
Escapes my mind to hide in the dark corners 
Of the world that I was once afraid
Even though I fear the loneliness of the dark
The loneliness of the dark comforts my fears
The door opens in inches like a snake 
Awaiting its next meal like prey in the jungle
The pain makes the breathe escape my lips
The flesh to flesh touch makes my body numb
The rivers flow between thy legs
Where is thy protector?
I should speak for the cruel shadow
That shows me his pain and misery throughout life.
And now
Here I stand underneath the belt of poverty 
Rape my future
An I shall be one with poverties own.


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Madness

Numb without feeling, I drink down the pain 
Silence spills out, like the quiet that follows a rain 
Slowly I’m tearing, tear-tearing away 
little bit by little bit, coming apart 
unable beat it, to keep it at bay 

Held captive by the enemy, the enemy inside 
You may think I’ve lost it, my mind gone completely 
Spinning, spin-spinning slightly faster than most 
But more than my mind, it’s my life I hold close 

Leaving me here, trapped in my own head 
A fate worse than that of ending up dead 
All alone I seethe, still painted in your sin 
Runaway, run-runaway make your escape 
Such is a dangerous game you choose play 

But time will give way, as time always does 
Now on the outside, that what once was locked in 
Set free from these jackets that bind 
and soft walls of white they’re in 
Chasing, chase-chasing my prey I will find 
You’re more savage, more evil than I ever could be 
So much uglier than any beast living in me 

How I long to Introduce you, to the thing I’ve become 
The monster you created to use, just your toy 
No longer of need, abandoned tossed aside 
Fester, fest-fester emotions grow hot 
Still locked in a box, forgotten left to rot 

So patiently I’ll wait, just sit bide my time 
Worth it, every second each slip of the mind 
Ticking, tick-ticking the hours melt away 
With the voices building angrier with each passing day 

But soon enough I will show you the horrors that await 
Then your laughter, laugh-laughter is sure to abate 
As your cruel joke comes to a bitter end 
moments just moments and then, well… 
that’s when the true madness begins 


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Two Words

Abandonment and betrayal what do they mean to you but to me it means everything.
It's my life, my past.
What I had to face in what I fear. 
Why Fear Just two words?
Why not... they're words that make up and is hidden in my life's past.
It's me I fear.
I fear what I'm to become.
What I might be.
To you it means nothing to me it means everything.

Just those two words summarize most of my family.
Who they are what they've done.
Just those two words have generations of stories to tell of the past and present.
To you it means nothing, to me it means everything.
Just two words can break down a man.
Make me cry.
To you two words mean nothing but to me it means everything.

Abandonment and betrayal.
Think about it... to you they are just two words, to me they mean everything.
To me its two things that occur repeatedly.
To me it means it everything but nothing to you.
Look at it to see if you can see what it means.
Its more that two words, its my past, my life, what I had to face.
What I fear Two words are more than Two words.
What I fear to be, What I might do to people close to me.
Its just two words. Two meanings..... but to you it means nothing but to me it means 
everything.

My families past, their present, their legacy.
My fear of what I might become... what this means to use is nothing.
But to me it means everything.......Abandonment and Betrayal.


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fear

I don’t fear rage, wrath, or consequence
I travel on unbothered my failures and disappointments
I go on untouched by opinion
Living in my own dominion
I love the noise
The chaos
The earth braking intensity I’ve been blessed to see the world in
I don’t fear pain or injury whether it be emotional or physically
I fear no man, no malicious plan, no wicked destiny
I don’t even fear hate…in fact I love that too
I love it when they try and tear me down, after all haters need love too
I don’t fear my end, my demise
For every triumph and failure, every pat on the back and every slap in the face lets me
know I’m awake and living another day
No monster, lion, tiger, no bear, no demon, no devil, could ever cause me fear!
But I am not fearless…I am no heroine
My fear comes when the wind stops
When whispers can no longer be heard seeping throw thin walls
When the yelling, the yelps, and the laughter seems to cease
I fear somber silent days and nights filled with the living but lacking life.
I fear the day I cease to live while still living
Were I can offer no more to the chaos, the noise, the catastrophe that makes us all WANT
to move and breathe
I just fear the silence


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Fear

A fear driving my heart, 
Taking me nowhere 

No way to be a part, 
Of my will to dare

Things around me start,   
To make me scare 

My tenderness so much in thwart,  
Looks impossible to bear 

The strange force can tear me apart, 
My voice cloaked in fear 

Even unable to hide in thought, 
My nerves keep me in despair    


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The Quiet

It’s too quiet in here… 
and it's that quiet she fears 

Alone in the darkness, turning sick 
Dread starts to devour her thick 
Stillness of the shadows mocking 
All oxygen seems to leave the room 
Senses in tuned, she knows he’s close 
Feels him before she can see him move 

It’s too quiet in here… 
and it's that quiet she fears 

All promises that things will be different 
Any hope of escape lost in the silence 
The secret of the heat, breath on her neck 
Sour stink and sweat envelope young skin 
Eyes closed tight, she swallows back the tears 
Dares not scream, knowing the trouble therein 

It’s too quiet in here… 
and it's that quiet she fears 

Only minutes it may last 
The demon, he makes it fast 
But it might as well be 
More than forever, an eternity 
For the scars are made, they still remain 
Eating away, taking a little more each day 
From a soul once so pure, so beautifully bright 
Fading soundless, mute into the darkness of night 

It’s too quiet in here… 
and it's that quiet she fears 

Left alone with her thoughts 
Fears turn to shame, too soon turn to blame 
Again resolve makes it home 
A more familiar one, it’s never known 
Won’t let it happen again, no never again 
She won’t let him near her, won’t let him in 
Whatever it takes, there must be away 
A safe place, somewhere else she can stay 

It’s too quiet in here… 
and it's that quiet she fears 

But all resolve starts to crumble 
Gives way to hopelessness and doubt 
As cold fear makes its claim 
Her life, such like a prison 
She cries out, but no one’s there to listen 
Nowhere to turn, not a place she can go 
Left to wait out her sentence 
Empty and huddled, trying to hide in the despair 
Lost in the quiet, he always seems to find her there 

It’s too quiet… 
Stop the violence, no more silence 



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A Rose Short-Lived

In the early days of March, at the very start of spring
I saw people plant roses, and praise the love they would bring
Well, at that point I had been saving a special sort of seed
And that spring I would plant it, even though there where warnings, I did not heed
And now loves rose is dead, and with it, burnt, is loves creed

Woe! That seed I had saved, held close and took care of from a very early age
That seed I had obtained from an accidental meeting, on the swings, at a very early age
Now I fear that this seed is ruined, and I fear I’ve lost a friend
It’s a fear that digs deep into my cold, melancholy core, I can’t pretend
For it was a beautiful friendship, that I never intended to end

Yes, I had planted this seed in the early days of March, the month of my birth
And though at first the rose was shy, it slowly stemmed out of the earth
 But it was soon growing faster, faster even than the fabled roses of lore
It grew with such a haste that one might have thought that it wouldn’t grow anymore
Yes, this rose, that might have frown too fast, had put love in my core

Now, on the last day of March, the very date on which, many years ago, I was born
This rose gave me a gift as it hid from me every thorn
And this rose, it seemed, had given me the will to succeed 
In my life, I had finally had the confidence to take the lead
I loved, more than anything, the rose that sprouted out of this seed 

And the month that followed, I can’t lie, was bliss
And it’s time I will, forever more, miss
For the month following, I regret to say, my rose died
Indeed, it was the only time that, for a flower, I had ever cried
It left me weeping, with no ego left to gloat, with no self pride

Yes, early in May is where you may date my death
Call me death, for without that rose, I’m not living, though I still draw breath
Lay me on my death bed, and let my quietly pass on, away
For any place without that rose is no place I want to stay
So please, lay me on my death bed, and leave! Let me lay

Woe, that rose died, and I can only guess why
Perhaps I watered it too much, and forced it to be too un-shy
Perhaps I was too ignorant to say the words it needed to hear
Yes, perhaps, perhaps, that all I can say
And I will say it all the while 
While I walk away
Farewell 
Goodbye
Good
Bye


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389 Causality : part 1

One autumn's morning I headed outside for a walk
The road was long and the day
Within the comforts of tantalizing tease
I, myself was settled within my mind
Taking in the day, the beauty
Even the mechanics of all things
Working in unison to form a collective of unity
The road lead far through the wood
Spanning a great deal of meadows and trees
Rivers and streams and field after field
Of wild flowers and daffodils.
   Day after day I'd take this walk
And every day it touches me the same
The familiar breeze to finger through my hair
The shimmering ripples on the rivers face
Play like the fireflies of twilight
However, today has become different than all the others
Today I find myself standing with indecision
Usually I would have turned back miles ago
Yet for some reason today, I felt compelled
To continue and now I stand before a split in the road
To my left I see normality and all things familiar
Continuing into infinite existence
Where to my right I see causality and all things unknown
Yet I could see the end and at that point stood a door
Alone amidst the solitude of new things.
   I found myself with pause, uneasy to continue
I was unprepared for this decision and unwilling
To choose either
Just then another person approached, stopped
Looked at both roads and continued on the road of normality
I stood here for hours within the ponderance of my indecision
As the time passed I witnessed more and more people
Coming and continuing down the road of normality
I then decided to follow in the footsteps of others
Everything here was familiar, nothing new
With all the comforts of knowing what was to come
However, I soon came to realize some intriguing facts
No one here was of their own, all of us on this road
Was of one mind, everything known, nothing new
Slaves to normality. Individuality?
There was none
We were all compelled to be the same
Any deviance from the norm was illness, anarchy and treason
Being here is like not existing
Suddenly there were others gathered around me
I was given the impression I was not alone in my thoughts
Of difference till one spoke out from the crowd
"You are ill and must be treated"
~
By: Darren J McMurray
    January 23, 2012



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389 Causality : part 2

In my arousing fear I turned and ran all the way back
To the split in the road and with a short hesitance
Began walking down the road of causality
Strange as it was no one followed.
   As I reached the door at the end of the road
An orb of light appeared into existence
In my fear of not knowing I was taken aback
The door opened revealing nothing known
And from the orb came a voice
"Wait, your fear is invalid. Your sense of normality is unnatural
Instilled over your lifetime to inflict fear of the unknown
To see deviance and indifference as illness.
This is the door of causality, it brings enlightenment
And creates change. Though there has only been few
You are not the first to find this door open
In order to cross the threshold you must let go
Of your illusions
You must see the unknown and welcome it not with fear 
But with an open mind."
   I pondered these words for a moment then asked
"How can I be certain that what you say is true
That there really has been others before me?"
Once again the orb spoke
"In here is causality, here words became written
Here, the Sun became the center of the universe
In here the Earth became round and was no longer flat."
   The orb has spoken true. Those men are in history
They were known in their time for breaking the norm
In removing themselves from illusion
They were seen as ill and evil even
Many people became enlightened as a result of their wisdom
Again the orb spoke, "In crossing the threshold
You enter into uncertainty. Each day will bring knowledge
The experience to face the uncertainty of each new day
It will also bring the burden of pity and sorrow
For many will never surpass the illusion of normality
They will remain blind to the end of their existence
And in so, die in vain
This is the burden of knowledge and truth
In your enlightenment you will exist and with each new day
You will experience the true meaning
Of what it means to be alive
Illusion will no longer have control over you
You will face each new day with life
The uncertainty of what is to come
The wisdom to accept change as well as create it
For yourself and for others."
   "What must I do to accept this and all you say," I asked
"You are on the road of causality," the orb stated
"In order to cause change you need only to step forward."
 In the moments it took to ponder all the words
Told to me, the decision was made
I too shall break the illusions of normality
I looked into the threshold and took my step and now
I face life.
~
By:Darren J McMurray


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Horror Trail for Elaine George

Best friends, young carefree girls are walking down a dark, isolated eerie path, alone on a 
cool fall night. Owls screech, hearts skip a beat, time creeps and beast are howl, howl, 
howling. Senses heightened...night sounds roaring through my mind. Is it real or my 
imagination? Unknown foot steps slowly approaching over the dark hill, hearts beat, beat, 
beating erratic rhythm in my ears. 

Little legs frozen with fear, foot steps louder now, closer...approaching. Step, step, stepping 
over the dark trail. No help in sight...Girls scatter and hide in the dense forest while an 
apparition passes down the trail with a green, cloud, halo, hovering over head.

I feel a chill down my spine, a musky pungent odor rises in my nostrils as the ghoul passes. 
Quietly I hide behind a tree, breath caught in my throat, unable to speak or yell. Suddenly an 
icy hand touches my face and fear gives strength to my legs and away into the night... run, 
run, running straight into the safety of the family bonfire. Friends safe, fear forgotten.





For Elaine George's contest tell me a story-narrative


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The War in my Head

The war continues in my head – 
The enemy bombarding my thoughts
Day after day, night after night – 
Never allowing me time to rest and regroup.

My defensive line is losing ground as the enemy advances.
There is chaos among the ranks – 
Exhaustion has set in, the arsenal is almost empty,
And I have no more reinforcements.

The troops are tired and overwhelmed –
There has been talk of retreat –
They fear defeat will soon be coming.

Over the horizon, it is easy to see the enemy approaching –
Heavily armed with an array of weapons.

The enemy’s attack of my thoughts and feelings intensifies – 
With the goal of wearing us down –
Pummeling us until we can no longer fight back – 
Until all we can do is lay down our weapons and surrender.

I am starting to fear that this is a losing battle - 
A battle we cannot win.


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I Got Scared (2005)

He came in with a mask and pretended to pull out a gun
I paused in fright
It was just a big kid having fun
But the fear was at my expense
I smiled it off in defense
I don’t like to show my fear
Otherwise I’ll know what would happen next time they are here
The fear we live in, they haven’t a no clue
Next time you mess the joke will be on you
People around here don’t like clever dicks 
They will beat you at your own tricks 


Another idiot messing around in my shop! Hillfields, Coventry the root of all evil!


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My Deepest Fear

My deepest fear is knowing one day you'd 
leave me
Letting you go on Sunday evenings

Saying goodbye or good night without you
next to me

My deepest fear is not being able to kiss
you goodnight 

Hearing your heart beat when you're asleep
Feel your touch; the warmth from your body
heat

My deepest fear is knowing one day you want
even think of me

Is that I'll only be the guy that used to be
Knowing the love you put on me will never 
be close to me again

Waking up, going to sleep, living & dieing
without me

That's my deepest fear; I am already
missing you & your still here

My deepest fear is life without you...


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The Cellar

Cobwebs hang in the dark recesses of the cellar.
Water drips from broken pipes, Collecting in puddles on the concrete floor.
I hide behind the cracked and broken table
As my pursuer relentlessly searches for me.

Tap tap tap. His feet pace the floor
And then suddenly the tapping stops.
I can sense his evil intentions 
As he tries to locate my hiding place.

Minutes seem to last days.
My heart beats loudly in my chest.
Sweat drips from my brow. The fear is unbearable.
But then he leaves.

I creep slowly from my safe haven
Praying that he will not return.
No sounds can be heard
Except the still dripping pipes.

But just as I reach the stone steps to freedom.
My worst fear is realised.
My nemesis has returned.
But as I look at him face to face.

Behold I am that very man.


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Is the End Really Near?

All I know is what I feel and what I see.
   And it sure looks like the time for Jesus to return to me.
It looks like maybe the final page has been read.
   Prophecies are being fulfilled and painted in red.
 Are you ready to take that final walk?
    Or are you hiding in the bushes when it’s to Jesus you should talk?
I don’t see how this old world can take much more abuse.
    When everyone knows what’s wrong, then there is no excuse.
Wars and rumors of war is all that my generation has ever known.
    And before my generation passes I fear Armageddon will be shown.
Read and study the Book of Revelation then you’ll know where I come from.
    It’s full of prophecies that have come to pass and some that have yet to come.
Our on technology has brought us to the place.
    Where we are capable of exterminating the entire human race.
Think about it if you think I’m telling you wrong.
    And I know there have been people crying the world is going to end for so long.
But never ever have we had transportation, communication, or the power we all 
now hold.
     And it’s written in the Bible so it’s not like we’ve not been told.
There was much in the Bible that was not understood.
    Until lately the things are falling in to place just like it said it would.
I know that’s all the bad news now where is the good?
    Well we can be sure our Lord and Savior will return because it says He would.
And for those that haven’t received Jesus as their Savior.
    You still have time to repent and to modify your wrongful behavior.
Seek the Lord with all your heart .
     And stay in His word that is your part.
Then you will have no fear of the end that is near.
     For with Jesus to guide you will know no fear.
God Bless You All!


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How Did I End Up Like This

How Did I End Up Like This??

I lie on the cold stone floor
I lie and watch
Watch the needle roll away
Watch my life roll away
How did I end up like this?

I haven’t moved from this spot
I’m stuck
Stuck in a nightmare
Where my only enemy is my addiction
How did I end up like this?

My parents had hopes for me
Now only fear remains
The fear of them losing me
What have I done?
How did I end up like this?

I tried to run
I tried to hide
Nothing worked
If it was only a bit of fun
How did I end up like this?

Now as I lie on the cold stone floor
As I lie and watch
Watch the needle roll away
As I watch my life roll away I ask
Do you want to end up like this?

THINK BEFORE YOU ACT!!