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Narrative Lost Poems | Narrative Poems About Lost

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

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New Road

In a new road,
Rain will fall,
Wind may blow,
Swifting our woe.

The road forever on and on,
Many paths to choose,
Many paths to take,
Home behind,
World ahead...

Through the shadows,
Through the night,
Clouds going by,
There we will lie,
Very deep,
Seeing shivered land,
Seeing the dead seas...

Through the edge,
Miles to go,
Singing by,
Darkness rising,
Vanishing light,
Hollow flourishing,
Going by,
World ahead,
Home behind...

Rain may fall,
Through the nightfall,
Through the twilight,
Through the dusk,
Through the dawn,
Beyond mountains,
Beyond stones,
Standing strong,
Wandering lost,
World ahead,
Home behing,
Paths on and on,
'Till the road comes along...

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And The Road Begins?

Mornings are dreadful time in life unless waking beside gorgeous woman hopefully 
a not married one  husbans can be such a downer.
And when ya wake to a warm beautiful creature by your side.
And the first thought that comes to your mind is i wonder whats for breakfest.

Then ya probaly cant read the menu to start with and desserve 
to have a oversized weight lifter re arrange your ribs.

Im a southern man once means several things  non of which means im normal.
And this morning finds my yerning for a trip and widespread  mischief.
My amigo had vanished after are trip south of the boarder I remember saying 
to myself as i watched him  running naked across the dessert  being chased 
by the flying monkeys  he was surley seeing after his consumption of a foreign substance 

There goes a fine american.

I would have ran after him  but  but i didnt want thoose things to turn there attention to me 
I herd they had a thing for southern  actscents.
And theres nothing  worse than a bunch of horney flying monkeys trust me 
Ive delt with this problem  befor.

and being it was happy hour i knew my slightly insane amigo would understand 
in all his naked glory.
Besides  I left him some sneakers  and a sixpack.
And kept his credit card for safe keeping.

Naked men have no place to keep credit cards and I figured he was in no state to handle 

So as i sit  behind  the wheel  ready to to get lost in the madness of fast food and
  the ant hill of insanity that is wall mart i turn my thoughts to vegas.
For where would a lost nude slightly insane person  run to and feel at home.

I had turn the music up to drown out the sound of whoever was in the trunk.
I figured if i had put sombody in there  in a drunken moment.
It had to be for a good reason.

And so with slightly hungover mindset are road begins.
and so with that do the games also.
And i figured hanging around with a cops wife wasnt the smartest idea.
That and im allergic to bullets.

My muse and 16 year old spirtiual advisor had phoned me to say that.
I probaly needed to Invest in the spirt of Jack Daniels  today.
And hey she had went to church more than once  so who was I to argue.

With a five five spitfire by the name of tinker.
so with A unknown companion in the trunk not helping my hangover i was off
to the races  Untill next time kiddies. 
Adios and im off to find my amigo.

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Shaken to the Core

Her sad eyes and tear stained face evoked such ambivalent feelings;
I could barely stand to look upon the half-naked child in front of me. 
She turned her face toward me with a pained look begging for help.
Maternal feelings welled up within for this pitiful tangled haired waif. 

Gaping in abject horror, I observed the orphan's frail arms wrapped 
tenaciously around a dead rat and held close to her dirt smeared body. 
I sensed this sewer 'pet rat' had been her only source of comfort in life. 
The one thing she turned to, when sad or hungry, would never again be.
While resisting the urge to gather her up in my arms and dry her tears, 
still I desired to sympathize... whispering, "Don't cry honey, it'll be OK". 
I lied, knowing it wouldn't.  Besides what could I do with so little to give. 
I turned and walked away not wanting to face my growing sense of lack.

I awoke with a start, shuddering, deeply disturbed and troubled to tears.
Sometimes the vivid images, like a horror movie returning to haunt me,
make me question, "Who is that wretched child so forlorn and dejected?
The memories shake my very soul, the hidden message still eluding me. 

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The USS Indianapolis

It was in July of 1945 
  And the USS Indianapolis
Had a crew of nearly 12 hundred alive
  But a Japanese sub fired and did not miss
American sailors had completed their job
  Delivering parts for the first atomic bomb
Some sank with the ship, others in the sea did bob
  No food, few lifeboats, ocean deceptively calm

Surprise attack, no distress signal had been sent
  It was four days later those floating were spotted
The survival rate was just 25 percent
  With hundreds of sailors’ bodies the sea was dotted
In the movie “Jaws” as Captain Quint had related,
  “The sharks came cruisin'. So we formed into tight groups.”
Six men per hour were killed while for help they waited
  All were lost but 316 Navy troops

Some victims died of exposure or starvation
  But far more were killed by the sharks that had attacked
These men lost their lives in service to our nation
  But bomb parts delivered had a deadlier impact

One of the last ships that was sunk in World War II
  The Indianapolis had turned the war’s tide
With a mission carried out by a courageous crew
  Victory was soon celebrated by allies worldwide

This is an entry for the History Poems contest

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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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Reporting Live across the World

Reporting live on the soup, with Americas MOST. WANTED. POETS.
 Standing here with our host John, 
With an exclusive update on criminal poets, captured and on the run.
Switching over to you John,. "Thank you P.D., lets give thanks to all the 
P.M.W. tipsters, and our lovely F.B.I. agent Andrea Dietrich (Andy) & U.S. 
Marshal Shirley Harrison (S.H.)

Capturing 1 infamous fugitive Nikko Palmario, a comment crusader going contest crazy. 
Christopher Brantley, still at large U.S. Marshall (S.H.) says, "This brilliant fugitive leaves no 
trace." A dangerous poet posting comments longer than his poetry. Leaving a distinction of 
excellence in any short form.  P.M.W.tipsters Demand to be brought down to poetic justice.
P.M.W. Tip, led Marshall (S.H.) to the most notorious blond bombshell on the soup.
Captured on her vacation Linda Marie Bariana, lost control of her blond moment.
Paralyzing her laptop with sand. Covering to other crimes with to much poetry rhyme.
Her # 1 crime, entering a dark poet contest, to bad for this SWEET HEART who shines.         
Wanted in all nations Lynette Chachere a realistic poetic criminal against reality & dreams.
F.B.I.(Andy) Says"Our sweet Lynn, carries a weapons against all Enigma wonders."
A shameful crime to bring down a poets spirit with an intervene of her intense poetry.
F.B.I. Most wanted poetic lunatics, Billy the Kidster, with a Mental Poet Disorder.
A maniac on the rampage, a poet who lost it, with a crime slamming himself.
F.B.I. Most wanted viscous fugitive Christopher D. Aechtner, alias Vomiticus Grammaticus.
This former Canadian elusive bad boy, topping the hot list, a harmless poetic threat. 
Dakarai Cobbs, a 30 year old soups spot robbing thug. F.B.I.(Andy) Says "We offer 1 million
For the capture of this accused space invader aka the Sonnet man.
A poetic gang banger posting out of control, with a drive by of 130 hits in less than a month
Nathan Dilts, at large with the biggest search in poet history. 
A terrorizing poet implanting each poet with frightening thoughts and images so twisted.         
Making his followers absorb his evil poetic plots, while connecting center of dots.
F.B.I.(Andy) Says he is a mastermind with explosive & twisted thoughts.
Marshall (S.H.)Says "there is nothing we won't do to take his Poet License away.
  ((sorry no room for the Poet Destroyer))
Back to you P.D. "thank you John, there you have it soupers a few top criminal poets."
Reporting live on the soup P.D., all across the world enjoying our poetry security

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He's more than just a friend, { He is the One} 1

The pressure and pain in each other's family of another friend that slips away and now
you find yourself in need of someone to talk too.  And in each family and every of the
thousand's that you thought was your friend is never the same.  "He's more than just a
friend".  When one need to be uplifted and the need of the same thousand seem some-
what drifted, the one that truly is in need gets lost in the shuffle.  And that shuffle is re-
onerated by one's pride and greed, that same someone shall never have the proper
necessitie's too satisfied that need.  The Lord Jesus Christ promises friendship mix with
courtship would always equal a divine relationship.  "He's more than just a friend", for I
once was lost but now I am found, the one's in need of an uplift will not find it, because
the idiosyncrasies we compound in our live's is due to the burden's that we allow to keep 
us down, we turn to someone who we thought was that friend, only to be disapointed time
and time again, the price of which is discarded by the poor.  "He's more than just a friend,
maybe that's him you hear knocking at your door".  If that be him....then let him in, a
friend indeed is he, clousure than any somebody that you will meet having church on any
street.  Muhummed nor Buhda can be your friend.  For they were not annoited on the
criteria of love nor do their belief's allow's being friendly to folk's that marches to the beat
of a different stroke.  Now if you are still in need of a friend and you're not ashame to
call upon his name.  (Call Him) He would come to you from all direction.  Just believe, on 
that day of ressurection, more than just a friend got up and got out, SHOUTING!!.."All power is mine". 
"So now all everyone".  "COME"
And meet a real true friend.  Believing on Joseph and Mary's - Son.  {He is the One}.

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Straying Juvenile

My younger sibling, I brought you painfully up,  you brought me "pain"  fully
I myself struggled through  constant hard times, your constant struggling with yourself, hard timed me
I cleared a pathway through life for you, you clearly thought the pathways were lined with gold 
Today I had to repair,  Mums front door, the door you caused to be kicked down yesterday
I love you and will defend you, even when you are wrong, which as you know, you never are
You lost your parents some way back and now it seems you somehow lost your way

I can't believe you did this thing, I can't believe you did
The shame on mum and dad's memory and then you run and hid

You cannot mess with men like this, they follow no set rules
Wealth becomes a god to them, they do not suffer fools

I pulled you from a hole today, I pulled you from a hole
The talk was death to stinking thieves, I saved your very soul

You lost your mum and dad so young, is that why you rebel but life is not a one way street, I lost them both as well

You brought me lots of grief tonight, you brought me lots of grief
I brought you up as many things but one was not a thief

I handed back, the things you took, I gave them all right back
The men who stood at mums front door had shot guns in a sack

The offer that they offered me,  was one,  to not refuse
Return the goods the "bastard took"  or read it in the news

If mum and dad were still alive, for this you would pay dear
If mum and dad were still alive, do I make myself clear

I can't believe you did this thing, I can't believe you did
The shame on mum and dad's memory and then you run and hid

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New Paths

A new path is what we seek.
The surroundings are taking a peek,
Going through, very meek,
Seeing no bleaks,
Getting piqued,
While hearing creaks,
In the new paths that we seek...

The new path is what is found,
Going through forests bound,
Going through the path inbound,
With soothing and raging water sounds.
Walking confound,
Silence profounded,
Sight astounded,
Passed through burial grounds...

Seeking for another way around,
Noises resound,
Spirits surround,
The paths newfounded,
Our instincts compounded,
Followed by the hounds,
Echoes in ultrasounds,
Passed through mysterious breeding grounds...

Going to stamping grounds,
Trying to get off this ground,
With those burial mounds,
Death moving the wheels around,
Silhouettes running aground,
Trying to leave safe and sound,
Passing through some hunting grounds...

Seeking for common grounds,
The mistaken path redounded,
Regretful screams abound.
Plans propounded,
Though some are fouled,
Throughout the paths that were found...

However, most are lost and wounded,
Most tended to walk out,
Some minds and hearts full of doubts.
Hearing salvation shouts,
From all these new paths walked and found...

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Thunder and Lighting

Love is prominent but lies are still troubling the arch in my back is still aching  thru my core/ To calm to peaceful Today not enough appreciation from you
You make me feel less important.
 How many more audition do I need to perform for you?
 Your Personality changes like the weather negative energy creates “Thunder and Lighting” 
   Your Ego is higher then the altitude in Denver 
You are the weather that changes everyday I never knew when its cold are warm 
Today I was prepared for a Sunny day / But  like the weather you change unpredictably have me puzzled just wondering Why?
 I was not prepared for your  precipitation/ you never allow me to grasp your feelings never appreciate my love  you was only  obsessed with yourself and not my heart.  When its cloudy or rainy outside my vision gets a little blur and  fuzzy when you are around.

Meteorologist Predicate Sunny and warm air with the chances of early morning cloudiness’

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I've counted the bars of my prison walls. 3 sides of 10 bars; 30. One solid wall,
cold, wet, molded concrete.
I've lost count of how long I have been here,
I hardly remember when I got here, but, it’s been winter
for a long time.
I've forgotten what it is to move in grass and amongst other bodies.
I am chained in here,
thick steel cuffs chain me to the wall.
I've counted the faces, whose names I can't remember,
and then lost count of them
as they flash and flicker, fast forwarded in my mind.
I've been motionless for a long time,
I’m not sure I even remember what movement is.
I’m not sure I can even remember to move.
I’ve forgotten who I am, my name, how old I am
how tall I am, my features, likes and dislikes;
there are no mirrors.
I’ve been nameless for a long time, and there is no one else
here in this vast blank expanse but me and these bars,
and one wall.
I’ve realized I don’t even know what I am
and that panics me, but I know not what this feeling is?
What Is feeling?
I’ve thrown myself at the bars, clawing at the nothing
that lies behind them.
What Is nothing?
I’ve discovered there is a name that echoes and echoes In the vastness,
how do I know that name?
Is it mine, yours, theirs, his, ours?
I’ve remembered, the memories crush into me,
a weight I had not known for unknown amounts of time.
No go away! Again, please...
I’ve tried to forget,
but the white walls are somewhere out there, waiting.
and I? Why, I do not even exist.

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I can’t change/You can’t change/We are Two separate/ people with Two separate  hearts when did this road shred apart/ 

I can’t force this love anymore/ I am lost in deep thought / Emotional pain hurts/ but  when you Add mental games/ and a teaspoon of lies/ It’s just ugly as a newborn cries for help

 This broken heart lingers woman/ I am tired/ Trying to piece this love hate relationship  together/ it’s so torn in  pieces I can’t pinpoint the location/ we are too far apart / Now  longitude and latitude can’t place us together/broken hearts/ Frustrating tears/ 

Now it’s  two separate lines/ two different directions/ do you see my reflection/ reflect off this glass mirror/ Now look at my torn face as sweats falls off my face/ Tears in my eyes a whale can swim/ It’s frustrating to find a answer/ At first I couldn’t sleep/ lonely night  became very dark / but now start to feel like Morning’s  are my best sunshine

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I Forgive You

Dearest love,
We are here tonight on this very tentative and frightening occasion
to commiserate and forget, celebrate and remember, but most of all
to choose that path which will lead us to the rest of our lives.
It seems unfair that life provides us no map to guide us nor compass to lead us.
All we have is ourselves and the intuition derived from experiences
and hopefully the courage to take the next step.
We have been through paradise and hell together.
We have shared intimacy like none I’ve ever known
and indifference I wish I hadn’t, and we lost our way.
We are indeed veterans of a long struggle during which
our hands slipped apart and we were drifting alone in places
separate from each other’s hearts,
blame, resentment, and escape became the fog on our separate paths
and all along the way we wished we could reach out
and find that hand that had so warmly guided us before.
We met others on our path that were lost as well
and even though their hands were not quite as warm
it was at least some comfort not to be alone.
But somehow, someway an old tattered piece of paper
with the way to a lost love burned hot in our breast pockets
with the memory of that warmer hand and warmer love.
Now the fog has broken and we stand here at this crossroad
reading the lines and expressions of a face we’ve known before,
but instead of joy we’re afraid and our affected efforts to say hello
expose the pain of our separation…I have missed you so
for no other has given me the height of elated emotion
nor the comfort of an embrace that whispers “I need you”
and the physical communion of a love that once was not lost.
I share the responsibility of letting your hand slip from mine
as you do mine from yours…long ago we met at another crossroad
for the first time and we fell in love because we were attracted
to that special mix of emotions and compassion that made us feel cherished.
So we stand here again and I want to embrace you and tell you
how very much I’ve missed you, but I’m afraid and the only words
that are on my breath are “I forgive you”, I pray you feel the same…

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Broken home

Remax can sale you a home but can't sale you happiness. I never visit the state of Georgia but things do get a little peaches. See this what happens when you eat finger food and take out orders. I never receive your Southern Hospitality/ I couldn’t even receive a  plate of food you cook/ you can finally see now when I walk away out your life forever I don’t even have a single word for you. Only thing you will receive from me is this middle finger. You was taught at young age to go to School and learn in Class. But surely class can’t teach you “CLASS”!!

 A moment silent   things were so quiet and  complicate in the beginning I thought we could have reconnect /But just like the chips to connect four they don’t always stay in the same order. You had play a handful of games and this when the “Battleship” games has to end. Now I hope you feel the water rise from your sinking ship and allow your tears to fumble into your lap.

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A Killer Addiction

The hooks went deeper,
A phantasmal itch.
Guiding him steeper,
More soul scars needing stitched.

Needle a quiver,
Injecting a mark.
Gambit so clever,
The results were stark.

Collapsing in a pile,
Upon a dirt floor.
Nightshades bile,
Straight to the core.

A beautiful view,
With violent convulsions.
Tearing his sinew,
All to feed his compulsion.

In this small dirty shack,
His mind a euphoric mess.
Retribution at his back,
Twisted emotions, taken roost in his chest.

He cupped his face with,
Scarred hands of leather.
Salt tears drip,
With revulsion and pleasure.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I never..."

For the: What Do You Make of This? Contest.
-The first image of the eye with a skull inside the pupil.
-Comments/Criticism appreciated

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There was scent of a fire in the call of the wind from a few blocks away, I could smell it today... someone burning a pile, in this first day of fall Leaves and debris, with smoke on the bend It darkened the sky of the September light with fragments of char, as dark as the night It drifted our way, and into the breeze, and it lifted the ash that caught in the fray, bits fluttering down then, onto our lawn, with fringes of gray A scrap from the classifieds, of newspaper ads A fragment, not burned, with a portion so sad just a singe on the edge, on the fringe of my day A scrap now was pending........and I dreaded the end I read someone's query, and my worries were tossed to the smoke-singed sureness, of a pet that had been lost ~ For those moments we had owned her, she was lost and alone Hungry and howling, on that cold autumn day It was a star-crossed encounter, a dachshund we had found We would feed her, and bed her, had asked all around and a with a few passing days.....she had found a new home. Here in our hearts, becoming our own A name we had chosen, she came when we called but today I know, she is not ours, at all... The wind off the river, pushing paper and leaves fragments of yesterday fluttering our way......... Spinning on down, every twist, every turn changing the moment......without being heard Small bitter pieces are coming our way changing small fragments, and the heart of today.

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My Fantasy, My Husband

My Fantasy, My Husband July 25, 2011
As a child I had a dream, was’ such a fantasy only a princess in a fairytale surely 
dreamt such things! In my heart he dwelled; this prince my dream, my fantasy I 
knew so well. My mind filled with thoughts of him day and night for our souls 
touched in the night as I lay dreaming.
Life happens and everything in it for a reason. Having lost so much my baby in 
heaven, my boys gone with their father, my heart’s broken! I lost all that I ever held 
close now memories for this princess who once had a dream.
He exits the elevator and comes my way. I hope he stops to talk even if my boss 
said to stay away from him. Once more, I have begun to dream and my fantasies 
have come back to life. He dwelled in my heart as a child when I lay dreaming. This 
is my prince, my fantasy the one whose soul touched mine. My prince and I shall be 
his princess!
People say we are too different; he would not ever marry you. Life and 
circumstances are all against us. He is a wealthy, smart doctor. You are poor and 
have no degree. What could he see in you or could you have in common? 
Soul mates now together as one in my dream, my fantasy my fairytale alive and 
true. My husband, My Prince surrounds me with love not caring what others might 
say or think. Together as one, I continue to dream and share all life’s fantasies one 
by one.
				                    Debbie Knapp /Princess

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Little Red was riding all alone

but she lost her way back home

Sweet Mommy, ready with her jam and pancakes

waited for her dear Little Red all day

but where did she go?

where did she go?

that night was starless

and the wind was blowing so cold

Sweet mommy got so worried

so she called up Little Red on the phone

and asked the little brat where did she go

"mommy dont worry, please be calm", she answered

"i'm here at the city to hang out.

got a new baby, and by the way, grandma's ok, the wolf is dead

I'll be fine. i promise... I'll be home at ten"

So Sweet mommy stayed awake

waiting for her dear Little Red

But no Little Red came at ten

"that stubborn brat...", sweet mommy said

Again she called up Little Red

but the daughter's phone was unattended

It was already past eleven

"tomorrow, she'll have a good beating..." the mother said

It was past twelve already

when Sweet Mommy's phone rang

It was Little Red with a trembling voice

crying to her out loud

"Mommy, mommy...i'm so scared...please pray!

My baby's drunk and our car lost its brake

Mommy, i'm so sorry for what i've done and said

Mommy, mommy...I Love you...Oh shit!!!"..then the phone was dead

That night was starless

The wind was so cold

Where's Little Red now?

Nobody knows.

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Silly Blind Ant

Tim Ryerson is:
like a blind ant
without his antennae
who rams against a wall
too slippery to climb over
so he runs along the wall
first to the left
then to the right
searching for an opening
he never gives up
running along that wall
searching for that opening

Tim Ryerson you are:
such a silly blind ant
without his antennae
who rams against a wall
too slippery to climb over
you’re in the right place
at the wrong time

He knows what to do Tim:
go backwards now
retrace your steps
to where you began
to that wall He calls home
you will find His opening

and He knows Tim:
He knows you are a silly ant
He knows you are a real ant
He knows you are a true ant...

Tim Ryerson

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From Great Pain Comes Great Inspiration

A total Jedi mind f*ck from Hell is what this is. I feel like a nuclear bomb has exploded in 
my mind of Hiroshima proportions and I am on the brink of a Chernobyl meltdown. 
Bewildered may be the best description of what I am feeling right now. I cannot process 
anything; I feel like I am in total and utter f*cking shock. I apologize for the expletives; 
I normally never curse when I write because I find it uncouth, but I have to get these 
feelings out; I know if I don't, I will want to cut, which is the last thing in the world I want to 
do. God knows I have enough scars; I don't need or want anymore.

From great pain comes great inspiration, I believe. Even though my mind is positively 
reeling at this very moment as I type, I feel exponentially inspired. I am completely 
overwhelmed emotionally, and I have just now stopped sobbing and weeping enough to 
write; to get these horrid feelings out of me.

Even the smallest of troubles or strife turn into absolute tragedy and catastrophe in my 
mind; I cannot help or control it, and God knows I wish I could. I "catastrophize" everything.

My best friend of 15 years just called me and told me she was moving to Alabama. I 
shouldn't even say "best friend" for she is more like a sister to me. Always, always she 
has been close by and been there for me as I have been for her, and now she is moving 
what seems like galaxies away from me, and the pain I am feeling is so tremendous and 
shocking; so unnerving and vexing and tormenting and afflicting...I could go on forever 
with melancholy and exasperating adjectives and descriptions. In my mind, she is dead 
and I am hosting the funeral in my brain. That's totally insane; I understand that, but at 
this moment I am NOT rational. For a moment after I stopped crying my eyes out, I 
almost felt catatonic. In my partner's arms, I just wept as he held me; I was shaking 
and shuddering furiously. I feel lost. I haven't felt this powerless or helpless since my 
grandparents died. She is moving away and there is nothing I can do about it. I am 
a horrible and selfish human being for I want her to stay, so desperate do I feel. 
Wendy, my sister, my best friend, my partner in crime; my cohort, consort, comrade, 
co-conspirator: you who know me best, inside and out, like a are leaving me,
and my sorrow is swallowing me whole- devouring me like an angry, rabid beast. Don't 
go; don't leave me. With every fiber of my being I wish you to stay, but you've made up 
your mind and told me your decision at the worst possible time, when I am already too 
stressed to deal with or process this kind of pain and anguish in a healthy way. I'm ready 
to hit the bottles: whisky and Lortab. They will ease the pain and will quell the compulsion 
to cut.

This is the most personal blog I have written. I didn't know what else to do but turn this 
despair into words to help ease the heartache and suffering. If anyone cares, I need 
support right now. I need prayers and well wishes and good vibes; I am about to crumble 
to pieces. I feel like the proverbial rug has been pulled out from under my feet and I don't 
know what to do. This is the worst feeling in the world. Uncertainty is truly the worst of all 


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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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A day of weary mind and body, 
She found herself in a comfy bed, 
So soft and relaxing, she lay back. 
Then both eyes started to rest, while 
hands were together on top of her stomach. 
So comfortable feeling, she started to snore. 
Sign of tired and stressful days she absorbed. 
She began to sleep so deep and dream suddenly occur. 
Her soul started walking a long narrow pathway. 
Taking slow motion and feet couldn't move so fast. 
There's a tiny light shining in a passage. 
She can barely move and reach the end of the road. 
She saw an old woman waiting for her at the end. 
The very familiar face she longed to touch and kiss again. 
"She's my mom!" she shouted aloud. 
"Mom, wait for me! I wanna be where you are." 
But the image suddenly disappeared. 
So she tried to run as fast as she can. 
When she reached the end, she felt a cold hand on her shoulder. 
A voice of a young lady saying,"Ma'am, wake up!" 
"Are you gonna take this bed?" 
"Is it for cash or thru credit card?" 
She stood up hurriedly and blushed. 
"No. Thank you! Your bed is soft and comfy, but I should go back." 
And her rest was over, now full recharged. 

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The Stump Mystery

Early this morning, at around about four forty five, five o’clock;
I heard somebody knocking on my front door.
I reluctantly forced myself to get up, fussing and cussing
all the time and went to see who the darn fool was.
There stood one of my neighbors, Lonnie Ray Crawford.
So I said: “Lonnie Ray, what the hell are you knocking
on the hot dang door for at this time of the morning?”
He said to me: “Hey there Butterbean,”
(most all of my friends and neighbors call me Butterbean)
 “there’s a big ass tree stump in your front yard.”
I stepped outside and looked and sure enough,
there it was, bigger than Dallas. So I asked old Lonnie Ray:
“Where in the dadgum doggone hell did the tree go?”
Neither one of us could figure that one out, so we drank some beer.
There hadn’t been a tornado or nothing like that last night,
that either one of us had read or heard about,
so we mulled the situation over and drank some more beer.
About seven thirty Lonnie Ray said he had to leave to go to work,
so he got up awkwardly and staggered out the front door.
The point being, if anyone finds a big old hickory nut tree in their yard
that doesn’t belong to them, it’s more than likely mine.
I surely would like for you to return it, if you please.

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SHIPWRECK OF THE FISHING FLEET                                 11/24/2012

He was lost in white surprise
Of drugs and doctors quips
His mind was filled with flapping sails
Of white that guide the ships
To dance among the white capped rocks
In North white nights of June
Bring in the catch to catch the maid
Who’d be his wife so soon.

Wild hair so white it shamed the sheet
That soft caressed the grass
The grass-plagued daisies held her there
As clouds triumphant passed
In columns white the bossy clouds
Marched brisk across the sky
But none of them could match the spark
Of whiteness in her eye.

Fishing was the fruit of life
their land bore little green
the joy and danger that it brought
left little in between
and men who braved those waters
better be prepared to die
for reaping nets and filling holds
bows to a fickle sky

And then his shocked brain shifted
Jigged timed across his life
How many white nights had escaped?
The maid now was his wife!
Saw breasts so white that milk they gave
Seemed paltry in contrast--
To feed the babe that snuggled there--
The fruit of love surpassed.

Then shipwreck banged into his head
The white-flashed lightning zing--
He tested feet and moved his legs
Seemed he’d  survived this fling
Of nature’s whims again he’d live
To tell the lusty tale
      of how north winds had jumped from waves
      to grab their ship's main sail.
Before the White-Christ
Had emerged from his Semitic genes
The sailors would have cried for Thor 
To ease his hammerings.

Sailors lost were prices paid
To live in Arctic shores.
And, lost at sea was ever feared
By them, and wives adored.

He’d play a trick, they’d think him dead--
Would make a crafty tale!
By his hearth and in his bed
would sound a mourning wail.
His house would be a feast of black
Mad weeping would impress--
Then his imagination called her tears
He vowed each tear to bless

He smirked to think of their surprise
When he stalked through the door--

       An unsuccessful leap from bed—
                       He’d rest a little more.

And being man-- he pondered sex
And pleasures it would bring
There was no sizzling passion like                            
His lover’s offering.

a putrid glass forced through his teeth-
Morphia drew him in
To dream the dreams of healing arms
       prickles kissed his skin
       He found her face beyond his pain, smile that could disarm--
       In dreams , with wife, in languid bliss
       he caught a fish of charm

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What Would You Take Contest Entry

If deserted, was I, on an island, and was allowed only three integral items to take with me, what would they be?

If we are speaking of material things, I suppose I would take my favorite book in the whole world, "Ask Dr. Mueller" by Cookie Mueller. It is a book I cherish, and can read perpetually because it's just that good.

If, by some strange coincidence, there happened to electricity on the island, and an old, abandoned, yet functional CD player just so happened to be found, then I would want my favorite album in the world with me: "Live Through This" by Hole. I worship Courtney Love and her music. She is a grunge Goddess to me. I love every song on that album.

If pen and paper could magically count as just one item, then I would take mountains of paper and a plethora of pens so I could record everything and continue writing poetry while hoping to be rescued.

My acoustic Gibson Epiphone means the world to me; I cannot imagine not having it with me. I know how to play all the songs off "Live Through This", so perhaps I would choose my guitar instead; that way I can still enjoy those songs as I still compose more of my own; that makes sense, right?

If, by Divine Intervention, there was an abandoned, yet functional TV and DVD player, I would have to consider taking all seven seasons of "The Golden Girls"; I don't think I could survive without the Golden Girls; it's my favorite show ever. And also all of the "Star Wars" movies; those I cherish, too.

And also, since I am an addict/alcoholic, I would want to take tons of pills, whisky and Cola with me; I'm sure I could not survive without those.

I understand that perhaps people or pets may not be considered as "items", but if I could choose among them, well, I would have to take my loving partner, my best friend of twenty years and my two dogs, Sammy and Bilbo, and my three kitties: Marley, Archie and Punky (of course I count them all as one because I like to break the rules).

Since there are so many things I do not think I can live without, it's an impossible decision. But these are my considerations, nonetheless.

*What Would You Take Contest Entry

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A Kind and Gentle Man

I had a dream that I walked behind
a man in white cloth - so gentle, so kind;
he told me his name with his fatherly voice
and asked me to follow, though it was my choice

He talked in stories which made me think,
while he told large crowds to take of his drink;
he walked among beggars, cripples, and thieves,
and he only asked us that we all just believe

I watched his miracles bring back the dead,
and I wept as they shoved thorns upon his head;
I watched him be beaten, spit on and cursed,
and on the day he died - the clouds rained with a burst

I cried because I had lost my very dear friend,
although, he told me that it was not the end;
I didn't understand this man, this begotten son
was the way to eternal life - for me and everyone

I walked alone without him there,
and felt so lonely because my soul did care;
this gentle man they did kill for me,
so I could live on and really be free

When I awoke from my dream I had a plan,
to live my life - to be a better man;
for what I learned from this only one
is that He is truly God's only son

I know my friend will always be,
even at times when I can't always see;
for a life is lost - without the One,
a kind and gentle man we call the Son.

For "What Easter Means to Me" contest sponsored by Gwendolen Rix.

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had to shorten it for contest.

Sidney Lee Ann reporting live on the soup, with Worlds most wanted criminal poets.
Standing here with the  POETS. MOST. WANTED. Tipsters Host John (What ?) 
With an exclusive update on criminal poets, captured and on the run.
Switching over to you John,. 
"Thank you Sid, lets give thanks to all the P.M.W. tipsters."alerting the poet authority.
Here we have our lovely F.B.I. agent Andrea Dietrich (Andy) & U.S. Marshal Shirley Harrison

P.M.W. Tipsters helped the capture of one infamous fugitive Nikko Palmario, a  poetess going 
contest crazy. 
F.B.I. Agent (Andy) ended the manhunt tracking her down in the Philippines.
(Andy), says" this convicted poet addict and comment crusader, gave us a fun run"

Christopher Brantley, still at large U.S. Marshall (S.H.) says, "This brilliant fugitive leaves no 
A dangerous poet posting comments longer than his poetry. Leaving a distinction of 
in any short form.  P.M.W.tipsters Demand him to be brought down to poetic justice.

P.M.W. Tip, led Marshall (S.H.) to the most notorious blond bombshell on the soup.
Captured on her vacation Linda Marie Bariana, lost control of her blond moment.
Paralyzing her laptop with sand. Covering to other crimes with to much poetry rhyme.
Her # 1 crime, entering a dark poet contest, to bad for this SWEET HEART who has to much 

Wanted in all nations Lynette Chachere a realistic poetic criminal against reality & dreams.
F.B.I.(Andy) Says"Our sweet Lynn, carries a weapons against all Enigma wonders."
A shameful crime to bring down a poets spirit with an intervene of her intense poetry.

F.B.I. Most wanted poetic lunatics, Billy the Kidster, with a Mental Poet Disorder.
A maniac on the rampage, a poet who lost it, with a crime slamming him self.

                                 had to break it down for contest....

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Blind Light

I open my eyes to a beacon of light calling my name. I reach out my hand only to awake from my dream. I'm on the ground with people surrounding me, I reach out my hand and they turn their backs. The sun in my eyes create a silhouette behind someone as they reach down towards me. I take hold as they lift me up, and I'll never let go.

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Archimedes - The First Pioneering Streaker of History !

Friends , I present to you a slice of History about the ancient Greek scientist and 
mathematician Archimedes , who ran naked across the street
of Syracuse , in his birthday suit, after he discovered the Theory of Buoyancy , with which he 
could find out the quantity of pure gold in the Kings crown ! Kindly read my 'Prose poetry' !

Archimedes: The First Pioneering Streaker
                Of History ! 
             ( Prose Poetry)

There lived in the third century BC, in the Sicilian
town of Syracuse, 
A Greek mathematician called Archimedes.
He was tasked by King Hiero of his town, 
To find the purity of gold in his crown; 
Suspicious of the goldsmith having mixed
in it , 
Some impure material of inferior kind, 
Which he wanted Archimedes to find ! 

Archimedes lost in thought one day, 
Entered the public bath on his way! 
And as his body began to get submerged, 
He happened to notice perchance , 
Water spilling over from the tub ! 
The answer suddenly flashed across his
And he jumped up leaving everything 
Wearing only his birthday suit! 
Running through the street of Syracuse , 
Exclaiming, ' Eureka! Eureka! ', 
(I have found it! I have found it!) 
Perhaps to become the first streaker of 
While establishing the Principles of 
Buoyancy! @

Archimedes, son of Pheidias the astronomer, 
Studied at the great Alexandrian city, 
Remembered even this day for his pioneering
In Hydrostatics, Mechanics and Geometry! 
With his ingenious mechanical discoveries, 
Held the great Roman galleys of Marcellus 
at bay, 
For more than three years, as Plutarch says! 
Later one day, while lost in deep thought, 
Trying to resolve a problem of geometry, 
Refused to hear Marcellus' bidding ; 
To be slain by the Roman soldier who had
come to fetch him! 
O those Romans, with lesser brains and more 
brawns ! 

And some hundred and thirty years after his
death, in 75 BC ,
Cicero, the Governor of Sicily, 
Found the tomb of great Archimedes, near 
the Agrigentine gate, 
Over grown with bushes and thorns , 
Lying buried in the scented dust of History! 

                                               -Raj Nandy
                                                New Delhi
@ Principle of Buoyancy = any floating object displaces its 
own weight of fluid ! Wt. displaced by a crown of pure gold and 
the one already made could be compared to find the truth !

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Forever in Christmas

Old man Carter lived all alone, quietly nestled in his quaint little home. 
Arthritis kept him crippled, writhing in excruciating pain, his wife long 
since departed, leaving him nothing more to gain. His children made 
arrangements, to place him in a nursing home. They lacked the 
compassion to inform him face to face, knowing he would surely die in
this unfamiliar place. He lost his will to live, life had tragically passed 
him by, without his long lost Eleanor, his only hopes were to die. There
he sat in his recliner, a rigid shell of an old man, quietly he uttered to the
Lord,..."Father, forgive me", as he clasped a revolver in his frail, arthritic
hand. Suddenly, an image appeared before him, it was clad in solid white.
Old man Carter could hardly open his eyes, for the radiance was unbearably
bright. Soon, the light diminished, the image's skin was fair. The old man's
eyes began to focus as he observed a figure with long, coarse
hair. The image's eyes were gentle, bearing scars above the brow. Open
wounds the width of nails pierced both its delicate hands. Then, in a soft-
spoken voice it said,..."No more shall ye suffer, old man". "Set aside thy
weapon", the image went on to say,..."You're going home to Eleanor, 
upon this Christmas Day". The old man passed on to heaven, he was
discovered the very next day. "Such a tormented soul was he!" That's what
the neighbors would say. It was there on a table beside him, a scribbled 
poem which sadly read,...
                                      "Christmas is the day I wed,
                                       The true love of my life;
                                       Christmas is the day I've chosen,
                                       To join my beloved wife
                                       Jesus arrived to take me,
                                       The hour's a quarter past four;
                                       Suicide's never an option,
                                       I'm with Jesus and my sweet Eleanor"...


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The Ong Civilization

If unable to read, see translation at end of poem!


Wonghongilonge songailinonggong tonghonge Pongacongifongicong, I dongisongcongovonge rongedong a songunongkongenong rongeefong.

Itong wongasong tonghonge longononggong longosongtong Isonglonge ofong Ononggong.

Mongy dongisongcongovongerongy longedong monge tongo fonginongdong tonghongatong
tonghongisong tonginongyong isonglonge hongadong bongeenong tonghonge hongomonge ofong tonghonge Ononggong congivongilongizongatongionong.

Tonghongrongee mongilongesong anongdong tongwongomongilongesong wongidonge,  itongsonganongkong bongecongausonge tonghonge Ononggongesonge wongeronge songo hongeavongyong tonghongeirong wongeigonghongtong wongasong songogongrongeatong tonghongatong itong wongasong longosongtong fongorong congenongtongurongiesong 
unongtongilong mongy dongisongcongovongerongyong anongdong itongsong longanongonguagonge wongasong tongronganongronglongatongedong.

Translation:  While sailing the Pacific, I discovered a sunken reef.  It was the home of the long lost Isle of Ong.  My discovery led me to find that this tiny isle had been the home of the Ong covilization.  Three miles long and two miles wide, it sank because the Ongonese were so heavy and their weight was so great that it was lost for centuries until my discovery and its language was translated.

Curtis Moorman
28 January 2012

For contest:  New Language

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Cont Shogun Samauri Series Richard Pickett Collab 4

    After Tom left, Bill slugged down his coffee, donned his Stetson and slipped out the side 
entrance. Tom saw him for a split second and quickly looked up at the ceiling as if he didn’t.  Bill grinned. On the whole, his relationship with the guys in his precinct was a good 
     He jaywalked across the busy street to the police impound lot where he had parked his 
black forty nine Buick. He bought it in Texas after deciding he’d had enough of the Texas 
Rangers for a while. He had put in for a leave after steady busting his butt for fifteen years 
mounted and un mounted all over that Lone Star state. He remembered retiring his last horse there. “Harry Hoss the Boss” was what he called him. After old Harry retired, Bill decided to do the same for a while. He enjoyed the Ranger gig but got burnt out.Time for a change. 
     Driving up to Nova Scotia to see old friends, he thought he’d stop in the Big Apple to see how folks lived there. After getting four different sets of directions from strange talking people and getting lost just as many times, he stopped at a bar named Paddy’s. Disgusted with his ordeal in the Big City he dropped in to relax for a bit before getting the hell out of that crazy town…if he could only find the way.
     The atmosphere of the joint was vaguely familiar. Folks of all ages enjoying each other's company. Bill bellied up to the bar and ordered a double shot of Jim Beam. He looked into the mirror through the row of liquor bottles behind the bar to see a few guys on his right engaged in lively jibberish about the Yankees. Seated on his left was a rugged looking gentleman in a brown Fedora hat looking right back at him.  He was knuckling onto a three finger glass with about four fingers of  Scotch in it judging by the bottle planted near him. He grinned at Bill and said, “You lost cowboy ?”
     “Reckon I am at that. Good talkin’ to a stranger I can understand though. The name’s Bill “he said putting out his hand.
     “They call me Brick“, he quipped exchanging a short strong handshake. 
Bill  pointed to Brick’s drink and said “How can you drink that horse piss?”  Here it was three 
years later and he still remembered Brick’s answer.
     “It’s easy Bill… bottle, glass, mouth, stomach.” They both laughed and they had been 
buddies ever since. Bill smiled in recollection . Somehow after that fated meeting, Bill never 
did make it to Nova Scotia.... 
     Bill came back to the present and climbed into his Buick. ...(cont.)

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This is a girl

This is a girl. She cried. She died everyday. Over and over again. 
 "Why is she still walking around if you say she is dead?"
That's not her. That's her body but her soul is missing. Along with her mind. That's why she is stupid. She is a zombie enslaving the human race. Her heart has also gone away. Because of her missing heart she can't get hurt anymore....that's a lie. With no soul she can't feel sympathy. That means she can't feel anyone's lies. 
 "Is she scared of anything?"
Yes! She is scared of rejection. She is full of fear. She cries fear, screams fear,she even bleeds fear.

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Delirious Moonlight Dream

It may make you scream 
into chilling longing dream, 
or make you wild in exasperation
in spectacular imaginations.

It may sometimes weaken your strength 
or will give you push to move on
all sorts of emotions comes 
apparently opposites, makes you awaken 
or makes you silently weep.

I ran... deep into the midst of woods
barefooted, I felt tired
strong wind drifted and my body shook
Moonlight beaming odd, I chilled!

Then I wrapped my arms around me, 
tears rolled as I scream your name! 

I kept on running, saw huge rocks aligning
hid myself in between, shivering, 
so the cool air won't touch my skin
and the wind passed, swiftly from where I hide.

There, I stood 
on the peak of one of the biggest rock I look, 
I can see the whole world
green, yet dull and bold.

I scream again and only heard the echo of your name
there I saw rushing of waters
from the side of the rock falling down, 
profusely, angry in flame! 

Seems inviting me, oh dear...
seems warm to fly and let my body fall;
Should I let myself fall and roll? 
Then I heard a roar, scary and so dire.

The wind blew it's urgency of terror! 
I have to jump, face the waters, face my fear, 
But my mind refused
Until I felt one's push! 

I fell...! Ahhhh...! 

I am awakened
still your music on air
a delirious moonlight dream
at the peak of the night I chill! 

Inner Whispers

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Healing Hands

A long, lost dream lay dormant for many years 
Beneath a constant sea of delays and indecision
Stuck in a routine so unappealing to my spirit
Hours spent in self indulgence became the norm of each day
It did promote team spirit however, did nothing for my famished soul
At break of dawn, the alarm clock would sound, 
Anger stirred deep in my soul; hindering my commune with God  
Then along came Holy Matrimony, or so I thought it was 
Graciously, light revealed the cobwebs that draped my life
It was then, at that crossroad where clarity and strength revived  
My inspiration, one consolation, an angel sent from above 
In defining ways, she would teach me what it means to truly love
With no expectations, no remuneration, observing in awe and pure joy
It was no accident that I found my lost dream in yesterday’s ruins 
These gentle hands are blessed to heal, love and give care 

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Dear Erick,
i remember like its yesterday when we first met.
Second Sunday of the cold July
few days to my parents anniversary.
you said,"Hi am Erick and I would love to know you!"
We exchanged numbers
we shared photos of places we been to
day till the wee hours of the morning
we would talk tirelessly.
The world,politics,technology,time,spaces
there is no stone we didn't turn.
We did not always share same view
but always we agreed to disagree.
You kept saying, "I have found my match!"
We clicked so well!
The connection was undeniable.

Then that weekend you left for fishing in Ireland
we hardly talked
i was so miserable.
I remember thinking,"am falling in love with this man!"
That Sunday when you got a connection in London
the first words you said when were
"I have a feeling there is a big fight awaiting."
Though that was our first fight
it was the day we found our center.

It has been so amazing ever since.

We have had our heavenly moment
Skype can tell you that.
We have had our share of pain too
Whatsapp can testify.
Our major break up on your birthday last year
The down time we both went through
beginning of this year...
But somehow
somehow still
our friendship and our love remains a constant force.

Atleast not until lately when all the crude fighting began.

You say i blame you all the time
that am playing hard ball
trying to push you away
that i do not trust you.

But you been the one changing the game.
I understand your life is speeding up
but you forget the results of that on us.
Beyond chasing contracts and making millions
you forgot there is a bride back home
in need of your quality time.

You said you had thought of it hard enough
and it is better that we break up.
I deserve better you said
we are not happy anymore.

Obviously you have a point.
We are not happy as we need to.
I think i idolize you too much that i forget you human
in need of my affection as much as i need yours.
But you also forgot your duty
to silence my insecurities with reassurance and tenderness
like you used to.

Four days and five nights still i wait
a word
a text
a sign
a clue
that you have not given up on us.
But the silence remains.

En zo mijn lifde  (and so my love
ik hou van je     (i do love you
ik can romans schrijven over ons (i can write novels about us
ik zal waarschijnlijk een Mills&Boon versie van ons schrijven (I will probably write a Mills&Boon version of us
Maar                   (But
als dit is waar onze altijd eindigt (if this is where our forever ends
dan will ik dat je weet    (then i want you to know

should you decide to change your mind
you can come back anytime
but like yourself
i too will need a few days to figure out things.
when we vowed for better or worse
you should have known that this is one of such ugly times.
You should have never left.

Goodbye my love.
Or is it?

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Democracy is Dead

Democracy   faces the  greatest  peril 
when corrupt and paranoid politicians
with their delirious speech promisingly
Preaches  the  false  idea of Fraternity

the country is awake
and they sleep with their
narrow nationalistic ideas
Reform is a lost practice
for they are indulged 
in series of unlawful acts.

Who  said ,' India  is a poor country'  ? 
they have foreign bank accounts
pounds and dollars
all  hoarded  up here ...

The  love  for  the  Motherland 
now  buried  with  Gandhi...
 he  must be  weeping 
over  this  poor state of deformity

Wish  I  could  revive those lost glories
where India was a  book of  beautiful old stories....

Smriti  Jha 

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The roaring sound of a freight train wind,
Blows northern snows across the prairie again.
horizontal snow that ices over eye-lashes,
Quickly brings a halt to any kind of progresses.

Shivering bones and chattering teeth,
Just a mile or so to the end that keeps,
the warmth of a fire in a pot-belly stove,
one more mile till my Wyoming home. 

I can smell the fire burning on a 60 mile per hour gust,
Faint;  but I can smell it just enough,
to keep my feet moving in an unmerciful land,
Please dear Lord, don't let this be my last stand.

Growing tired and weary, snow up to my hips,
I remember your kisses on my half frozen lips.
We danced in that field of purple and white,
Now, it seems I've lost my way, and I've lost my life.
I think I'll sit and rest just a bit.

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9-11: Never Forgotten

My friend Justin and I want to dedicate this poem to everyone in America and those from other countries who have died, and also to those that lost their loved ones on this most atrocious day 11 years ago.


In the busy streets of New York City,
Many a passerby made their way to work
It was a typical work day—or so they thought
It was an unexpected day when a great tragedy would strike
Two of the city’s greatest towers would fall in humility
And along with them many wonderful families
Even others from different countries would lose a loved one
In just a matter of minutes, all of what was that typical work day
Became a nightmare—a terrorist’s delight

Everything in chaos and confusion
Cries all through the day and night
Many called their loved ones if they survived that long
Many panicked, but some were dead calm
Knowing there was no way out
They poured their hearts out on that last telephone call, their legacy born
The attackers thought they broke us!
But they failed—we didn’t break at all
Instead they brought us closer as a nation
And the people who lost their lives are with us always
Never forgotten in our minds and in our hearts

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Sometimes you gotta get lost to find the emptyness of the true soul.
Bury thoose memories  to unearth old truths.
Cut the ties only to return to thoose past relations.

Ive seen the streets erase the picture only to relive the past.
Living ghosts a backdrop eternal.
I cant question thoose night's regrets like a blanket keep me warm 
on a  humid night.
When all is wrong why cant anything be right.

I'd never  curse you utter truths into your lies.
Tainted encounters in many ever changing rooms.
Neon lit dream's  sunset of my mind salt water taste the 
bitterness we love.

The mountain's veiw is empty and cold.
Have we lost the the spark.
Iced over thoughts leave only shallow promises 
to hold.

So I'll push you away only to hold the memory dear.
A coward  to live in the pressent.
A living ghost of the man  who once stood here.

I've lost track gone so far from all that ive known.
Sparks in the darkness.
Only illusion  paint's the reallity sanity grace me life 
once more.
I question has it vanished with my time?

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It was another beautiful morning in the city , Workers  looking radiant as always
People  strolling , Cars horning as pedestrians throttled along the Zebra crossing
The subway was crowded with the smell of early morning rush and sweat
Little did they know that there was a shadow lurking behind the bright sun

The announcer’s voice towered over sound of luggage’s being dragged
Flight attendants smartly dressed hurried  towards the boarding gates
Passengers sat patiently at the lounge, awaiting the call of the day
How could they have known that today will change their very lives

Nineteen bearded men dressed in polo shirts scattered amidst the crowd
Each missing the silky feel of their long white robes and heavily woven turban
As they try to fit in with their newly bought Jeans and Sky blue snickers
They knew what was about to happen, their lives was fading as the clock ticked

People going about their work and children being dragged to school
It was the ninth hour of the Mane , The plane heading for a wrong land
Passengers struggled for their lives, calling their loved ones for the last time
They saw the rage lurking in their eyes, the clothing couldn’t hide the evil

A Woman standing in the office, talking to her fiancé on the phone
As she stared out the spotless white glass, she saw it heading her way
She couldn’t mutter a word as her fiancé called out on the other end
Not  a step could she take as the wall crashed on her, it was clearly too late

Buildings tumbling down the great heights, fire flying through the sky
Bodies rolling through the sky like the brutal fall of strong rain in spring
Oh what a sorry sight for a blind man, oh what a poison for the soul
Some watched with great tears, they could do nothing to save a life

Deadly cry of babies filled everywhere, smell of blood saturating  the air
Heads missing the body buried under the crumbs of the fallen bricks
Some puffing out the last breath in them, hanging on for the very last time
Thunders of sadness roared everywhere, Mourning voices everywhere

So many lives were lost along with Nineteen men who thought it as fate
Not a year passes that we do not weep, for the lost souls of this day
The brave hearts that left us , even at the face of death some struggled
They linger forever in our hearts, as their thoughts dwell within us.

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I visited an orphange
saw those little smiling faces
What happiness they had,
no one can tell
as behind that joy lied,
a different universe.
they knew no where they came from,
or they will go.
their home is their orphanage
and the love contributed on them
from the strict wardens 
to every promising visitor
that comes to see them or pick
one of them.
they wait for their moment to arrive
to live in this wide world.
little do they know that they
would get more peace and joyful
in the orphanage than in this huge
painful and competitive world.

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Holding Back

Nothing here is wrong because nothing ever could.
It has been so long,
A time that just never would!

Nothing here was ever lost because nothing was ever found.
It has been a toss,
A time that simply counted down!
Holding back the tears,
Puddles of many lost years!
Holding back my time,
I’m a prisoner with no crime.

There’s nothing here to hold because there never was.
It has been so cold,
A time for just because!
Holding back the pain,
My chronic death inside!
I have nothing to lose because there’s nothing to gain.
Holding back the strength of all my earned pride,
I’m just a moment gained with a will that eventually dies inside!

®Registered: 1997  Ann Rich 

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Flying Fortress Mi Amigo Rememberance

Mi Amigo It happened in the year nineteen forty-four Ten young lives from that day were with us no more They were flying a B17 bomber plane A ten man crew “Mi Amigo” was her name Returning from a raid over Denmark Badly damaged and struggling back to her mark Her radio dead and engine misfiring The skin in tatters from all the shell firing A nurse plane was left to guide her way home But they lost sight in the clouds and presumed she was gone But the pilot valiantly tried to find the English coast He needed to reach Charleston but managed Sheffield, their last post It was just before five on that February day Children in the Endcliffe Park with a football to play Mi Amigo couldn’t wait she had to come down She spiraled and tried to land in the Park ground The pilot he saw the children playing there He lifted the nose and tried to climb in the air There is a Memorial Stone in the park these days They planted ten oak trees for the boys they couldn’t save The boys were all American aged twenty-one to twenty-four February Twenty Second, they were lost far from their own shore The Pilot determined he missed the children and hit in the trees Heroes to the parents of the children playing in that February freeze My mother watched the plane as it struggled overhead The engine sound and smoke from it filled them with dread They had souvenirs made from the Perspex nose of the plane But they are now lost like the lives of the boys that were claimed
It was the anniversary in Feb of 10 American boys that died in a Park where I played as a child. My mother would normally have been playing there with the others but she watched it from her sick bed at home as the plane passed yards from their roof. Although she was an eyewitness this information is from A book By D Harvey called Mi Amigo Sheffield's Flying Fortress

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The Tinsel Tree

"It's a fake tree", I said the year
my mother lost her mind and decided that real trees were too much trouble!
My best friend, who lived next door
thought it was just great,....that giant, silver monstrosity!
That is..until I told her to close her eyes, and sniff.
"That's the ugliest tree I ever smelled!" she said, ...finally agreeing with me.
Her support helped to convince my mother of her error in judgment,
and that was the last tinsel tree we ever had.

That was the same year
that we noticed that Santa Claus looked a lot
like our neighbor, Mr. Hendrickson.
We had called him "Mr. Hiccupson"
until we would go into fits of giggles
watching how his belly jiggled.  

Spending all those Christmas's apart
 after her family moved away, was painful
Never again would we have special sleepovers, 
      and times like singing around that fake tree,
         and listening for Mr. Hendrickson's reindeer to land on the roof.
We had written letters for awhile, but after a few years
   we drifted apart....her living on one coast, me on the other.
But I had never forgotten that last Christmas....and the silver tinsel tree.

Out of the blue...a phone call,...a voice that time hadn't forgotten.
Suddenly, we were laughing and giggling like two little girls once again.
Sometimes, when you least expect it,
Christmas shows up early, a long lost friend
   and wraps you up in it's arms.
         Thank you Santa Claus.....or Mr. Hiccupson, ......wherever you are.....

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Why Church called Catholic

Church is a she Bride of Father Christ Church is Catholic Church is people Catholic related to the whole Greek kat’holon Father Christ called Profess whole faith Preserve all Sacraments To administer To proclaim Good News Sent her to all nations (YOUCAT) 4092013

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Light House Keeper

As I stand awake
And gaze upon the sea
And the sea in turn 
Looks back upon me 

I look out over 
And see the moonlight glisten
I slowly shut my eyes 
And very closely listen

The waves crash hard 
Upon the rocky shore
I see ships light
And I set the siren to roar

The winds blow in hard 
And I know death is near
The sadness of a lonesome
 Lighthouse keeper is clear

As the winds blow in so fierce
The seas men must act wise and swift
They pull themselves to action
Working hard to keep the ship adrift

The winds blow in strong
As the ship crashes a-shore
The crew scrambles desperately
To survive this dreadful score

For the lighthouse keeper well knowing
His assignment fully now strives
To set out an alert in hopes
Of rescuing these lives

Now as daylight approaches
The search will reveal
There’s no ship to be found
And no bodies to prevail

Written by Neil Ofarrell and Skyler Dawn

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Looking Back

Dedicated to my children who have kept my dreams alive.

LOOKING BACK We can’t go back To the days of yesteryear To capture those lost feelings With those whom we loved so dear I am just looking back to see Where all of my dreams first start You know those deep seeded dreams Buried way down deep in your heart I’m not trying to revive a lost love That I once had forty years ago Or even trying to replace the twenty years Of not seeing my grandchildren grow There were times of much struggle Filled with pain, fear and torture It was the love I had for my children That developed my strength to endure My children only remember the 2nd set Of twenty years that have come and gone When they were all moving out on their own And when all of the grandchildren came along It’s like I was locked in a rock Throughout those 20 to 40 years Not able to see my grandchildren Filled my heart with so many tears The bitterness you feel towards me Is understandable and really okay My children, you all have the right To your feelings and to feel that way I have finally made the escape Since that rock has split wide open I want you all to know who I really am I haven’t changed at all, only my situation The gift of feelings we have in our heart Whether right or wrong, just happen It matters not what others may think We should let out our own self expression No feelings are really ever wrong In another’s view or even our own Our thoughts trigger our feelings inside The feelings we have are ours alone Looking back strengthens my heart Reminding me I want to pass along To all of you, just who I really am Before my time on earth is gone One day I hope you will realize With you I have always been Filling you up with that extra love You may have noticed you’ve been given You have all filled up Such a big part Of all the dreams Living in my heart My best friend Grace, reminded me That our feelings are meant to be and to last God wouldn’t put the dreams in our heart If He didn’t plan to bring the dreams to pass My dreams haven’t changed I am not letting them go They are for new adventures With new beginnings of tomorrow Now that I’m looking back I’m so glad to have survived I know now, my love for all of you Has always kept my dreams alive Florence McMillian (Flo)

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Church View Other Religions

Church view other religions Church respects other religions That is good and true She respects and promotes freedom of religion Human right Effect of the Truth will be seen later She knows Father Christ, sole redeemer of mankind He alone is “the way, the truth and the life” ([St.] Jn 14 : 6) (YOUCAT) 4092013

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World ain't a place to discover

Forgotten by my society, 
Me branded a monster, 
Forgotten by my destiny, 
Years back, a youngster.

Its not a dream, not even a tale, 
Firmly held onto the grassy ground, 
A day in my hand petrol in a purple bale, 
And I knew I would never be found.

Darkest period of the night, 
It was, with a group I thought right, 
Tip-toed into our teacher's home, 
We came to finalize, to set it ablaze.

Wails, yells, groans I heard, 
Trembling with fear I grew mad, 
Helter-skelter paced hard, ran hard, 
Nowhere to go, not even a yard.

Then came a furious crowd, 
Loud and rowdy, emotions sad, 
Unable to say, not even a word, 
Beaten, I was left for the dead.

Every now that seems lost, 
Never give up, no matter what cost, 
Every obstacle that seems high, 
Fold sleeves, give a second try, 
Everyday is a chance to do better, 
Take my advice, you youngster, 
For the world ain't a place to discove

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In the dawn of destruction, eyes look for salvation, hearts look for the lost prayer that could ease the pain, souls look for redemption from the screams and yells of men and women.

What have we become? Who are we?
Have we lost our humanity? Have we no sensuality?
Have we become a useless number that can be deposited with a bullet?
Have we turned into animals that can be hunted?
Have we no right?

Children who've lost their parents crying for righteousness, looking for pity from the eyes that caused blasphemy because of greed!
Why do we shoot bullets instead of handing flowers?
Why do we spit instead of swallow?!
Why are we trying our best to become heartless?
Why is your life more precious than mine?
Why do you live in the light of safety and warmth while we live in opacity and darkness?

We do not want your tears; we do not want your sympathy... Leave them to yourself; we do not need this help.
We are strong, our voice is loud and one day our hearts will be unbound.
This is my letter for the people who still have the heart and strength to raise their voice against dictatorship and colonialism. 
Raise your hands and pray that the judgment day does not come soon, for we are not yet ready to go to hell.

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Deep in the piney woods

Deep in the piney woods
A call beckons across the branch
A call that isn't animal nor human
A call that makes your hair stand alert and skin prickly from fright!

The light of the full moon awakens the spirits and the calling from the piney woods.
If you doubt my story and risk your very life, then make sure you take a 
weapon into the piney woods. Well, I believe the call is from the ghost of the moon 
shiners that have lost their lives in the mica mines many years ago. 
The mica was 
big business one time until the mines went dry.
The deep holes were perfect cover for the moonshine stills until
the revenuers caught the culprits. A great gun battle raged until death. 

Today the crumpled mica shimmer in the red clay is all that is left of the mines. 
The local children like to scare 
themselves with the 
abandoned rock graveyard along the edge of the piney woods. If you look close at 
the mound of appears that there is a bony hand protruding from the grave 
and  pointing directly at you to leave. The ancient thick cedar trees seem to
guard the graves and whisper "Warning, Warning."  

In 1969 there was another vilolent firey death on the road through the piney woods. 
A man died inside a burning wrecked truck, screaming 
"Don't let me burn to death" repeatedly until the bitter charred end. 
When the moon is right the echo carries his screams across the hills.
 A young man only age seventeen lost his life in a fatal car wreck on 
the steep curved road. His life was taken so fast; he is said to walk 
the hills searching for his sweet ride to
 carry him on his journey, unaware of his eternal fate.

On a short walk along the shallow creek bank reveals an old rock formation covered 
in moss now but built by a people of long ago. Maybe Indian or early settlers, 
no one knows the architects but if you stand in a certain spot where the
 ground is always wet with a reddish ooze. You can feel a cold icy finger 
across your face and neck. 

Is the call a young buck calling his bride in the after life; is the call an 
evil doer fighting to avoid beelzebub's snare? The apparition can be seen 
briefly if you desire look when the wind and moon are right. Waynesville 
holler offers more
 than beauty in the day but beware of the moon lit walks that
 young lovers 
brave or you
 may be the next victim of the piney woods!

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I lost me I lost you (Part 3)

I just wanted you to know you married the wrong guy
You can laugh as I curse you or shake your head as the years go by
But like a warlock a male witch I damn you till the end of time
May your family tree be poisoned with emotional trauma through the heart 

May this infliction of this pain be a remembrance to our time  
May the pattern of lust created by your sister be branded on to the generations in your line
I never knew I could have such hatred for you even after such a long time
I never knew I had this kind of burning rage against you

So as I put this to an end let me just remind you once again 
it was your sisters dirty deeds that broke our bonds in the end
You could have given me a second chance 
From the flowers to the poetry and all the phone calls I had tried

For the five years that I knew you we are now just a blink in time
For all the walks and all the talks so many years ago
All those cherished memories are now just part of a freak show
Everything we desired to have are now at the end of another mans prick

I sit back now and look at this story
And with the flick of my wrist I toss it to the fire
I look up to god asking him to take me higher
One last wish is for all those memories I have of you to be taken as if they never transpired 

I lost me I lost you
Through the lust and the thrust of a sexual deed
I lost me I lost you
Embraced in a taboo of wants, desires and needs
I lost me I lost you
The fire consumed us and soon no one could breath
I lost me I lost you

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Limitless Lust

Introduction: Limit itself has a limit of its own…

A walk, mile after mile
In quest for my lost soul,
I had forgotten how to smile
Everything felt out of control,
I fought too hard to be worthwhile
By that I got lost in my life’s hole

The regrets for mistakes I’ve made
It took me off the edge, way too far away;
Yet I tried again so hard to get off from that shade
But got caught up in my brutal fray,
The same song keeps playing with such a vicious rage,
I find myself down to my knees, nowhere to go - So I pray

A prayer to leave the worst and move onto more,
Come off this fantasy and onto reality, to be -
Closer to something I’ve been fighting for
The touch of the light cutting through the night, it rains down upon me
As I overcome the grief and believe, recovery lies ashore,
Only three steps remain, to be fixed and free.

A lesson of value I earned from my faults -
Never push yourself off the edge,
You’ll lose the only key to the vault
A life you never had to live – It too could forever be lost,
So stay confined within the limits of the limit
As it seems - Your control over lust, only can make you complete.

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"The Fact is God" Part 2

Part 2

          The serpent or illusion, is the the mind’s imagination, that led us away from our

 Agape fact. Into a fictitious world of the wildernesses of our minds. This wilderness was

 invented by the imagination of the mind.

          We are unconscious of our Agape fact, unaware by our lower mind’s logic, lost in the

 reasoning of fictitious imaginations of the mind’s invention. We are for the most part,

 unconscious of our paranormal heritage, lost in an invented consciousness of mind’s

 logic.This lower consciousness of mind’s logic, is incapable of the higher logic of the

 paranormal essence, being on the level of only the natural manifestation. We are, for the

 most part, paranormally unconscious, if you will, lost from the paranormal, conscious only of

 the natural. We are living from our mind’s illusion, and not from our Agape fact. We need to

 be fully conscious of the paranormal and subconscious of the natural so as to regain our

 cosmic(spiritual) minds. For the Agape mind, of which I speak, is well able to govern natural

 minds. For the nature is Agape, freedom and fairness on a level for all concerned!!!!!

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Under Siege

The present grandchildren of our ancestors
Staggering in circles
So lost in the struggle
A struggle to live
A life on the brink of the brim
Their rationality is under siege

Emotional tears of sorrow
Clouding the eyes of yesterday’s youth
For they can do nothing but stare
As the doom of today’s youth they’re certain
For theirs is an esteem long lost and gone
Their virtues ardently immoral

The dreadful question lingers in the hearts of many
Can we trust them to live till tomorrow
Let alone reaching and seeing it
For their purpose to be is enslaved by alcohol
Their passionate dreams overshadowed by the smoke of drugs
Their worth so less, of ultimate ruins they are absolute

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Blame me

Last night, I stared out of the bedroom window
As I did, a few long years ago
I saw the fading image of a lost sad man
Wandering frantically in a twisted limbo
Subtlety I asked “why was he in such a chaotic state”
He looked at me with anger and said “Blame me…
Blame me for my dismal fate”

Blame you for what sir?

Blame me for not having the courage to make timely decisions and the right choices
Blame me for not trusting and following my own judgments, instead of submitting to outside 
Blame me for being too passive when aggression was warranted and truly needed
Blame me for losing my self-confidence, my self-esteem and self-respect when my goals 
appeared defeated
Blame me for cracking and breaking under my peers and family’s high expectations
Blame me for setting my goals too high -- after all, they were only my dreams and 
Blame me for fathering a beautiful little girl without the strings of wedlock
Hell blame me for believing she was actually mine, when most likely she’s probably not
Blame me for marrying a woman who surrendered her heart and love to another man
Blame me for loving her regardless and gracefully accepting her with our relationship as it 
Blame me for starting a family with her knowing of her traitorous deceit
Now cast stones at me for tolerating her ongoing hatred of my oldest seed
Blame me for not leaving such an unhealthy and toxic relationship
Instead, blame me for being infidel and searching elsewhere for love and companionship
Blame me for apologizing continuously, trying to work on it and make things better
Then blame me for discovering her viperous secret, the affair never ended, they were 
always still together
So now blame me for wanting to know and experience the fruits of a true relationship and 
what it could possibly be
Finally, blame me for discontinuing the games; I am tired, my heart hurts and I am now and 
forever free

I looked with pity as his eyes mirrored that of my own
We raised our hands simultaneously and he spoke again in a confident and stern tone

“Blame me young man for what you have heard and now experienced
Blame me for the one shot at love you lost due to my continued interference
Blame me for all of the things that causes you self-pity and personal anger
But blame yourself young one, should you allow it to continue and become your permanent 

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A Doomed Poetess

She was a shy child and a lonely girl with a dream
So she started writing poems and became famous
But when she awakened, she found that 
Her dream did not come true
She was spending her days looking for lost stars
And nights, searching her soul 
For lost answers and unspoken fears 
Nevertheless, she gave herself to the world
Because she had never belonged to anyone
People knew that, and that`s why they glorified her, 
Humiliated her, and finally killed her
And now, we imprisoned here miss her,
Lure her with the ancient bait of pain
But her soul doesn`t  crave the things
It yearned on during black mortal years
Still  this pure white flame of burnt desires
Lightens our path

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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 

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Skippin Stones

“I just shot a fiver” my friend said.  “No you didn't” I replied. “It was only four”.  “Was so” he said.  “Was not” I repeated.  And so it went as two young boys stood at the waters edge, skippin stones.

Time was not so precious then and hours could be lost in simple games with rules made up as you went along.  You entertained yourself, limited only by the constraints of your own imagination.  Some old wheels off of a cart and a few pieces of wood became a racer, hand powered of course.  A piece of rope became a swing and inner tubes were prized.

It was a time when you did not buy your fun.  Every neighborhood had one football, and between us we had a collection of baseballs, bats, and gloves.  Pick up games were commonplace, springing up spontaneously, and yes, upset the wrong kid and he would take his ball and go home.

I thought of these things the other day while strolling along the shores of Crystal Lake near my home.  From somewhere within the reaches of my memory, I heard a voice say “bet you can't shoot a fiver”.  Not one to forsake a challenge, real or imagined, I stooped and picked up a few smooth and flattened stones, and proceeded to skim them across the water.  Years vanished and for just a few moments I got lost in yesterday.

I'm sorry to say I did not shoot a fiver.  In fact, the only thing I got was a sore arm, and, of course, the satisfaction of knowing that the kid in me was just fine.

Bob Quigley
October 7. 2011

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I remember a time

I remember a time when I knew what to do,
A smile from your face would see me right through.
I remember the warmth I would feel from your smile.
My inspiration would soar, I could see for miles.

I remember a time when love was in the air,
It provided light and taught me to care.
Now time has passed and all of it has gone,
These kind memories become what I long.

I remember a time when I felt so alive,
Much like a bee, returning home to the hive.
Now I feel sad and seem to stand alone,
I’m just a lost soul in search of a home.

My pride was too strong you became someone else,
I not only lost you but some parts of myself.
I know I can do better and will always survive,
But so much had died I don’t feel very alive.

I remember a time I wanted better for you
I can’t understand some of the things I do.
Time passes by and then the memories are gone,
It takes all my strength to just learn to hold on.

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Rainbow People Let the Gods Fight Their Own War

(To My Proud Daughters of a Man-made World)
We shift shapes and shades all day long
Happy or sad we cleanse our souls with a song. 
Together we sat giving company, counting crows,
The rhythm of our lives echoed in the shore.
We are the rainbow people known to all;
We answered the world to its beck and call.
Then came the fateful day, mighty and dark
We set out on a mission - a journey to embark.
We dreamt of a butterfly dream, soulful and bright
But the passage to heaven was out of sight.
Our glorious land was ravaged by the gods,
We lost our sight and calculated the odds.
Hunger and stupor became our hosts
We were defeated, but all is not lost.
The wind fails to favor our sail, our spirits encumber
In the land of lost we were outnumbered. 
The soul shifts in the endless tyranny of life
Wicked wisdom cuts us through like a knife. 
The golden gate was rusty, the eyes wander for shade 
We marked the silver lining with our rotten blade.
So long my sweet angels I bid thee well
We spread to prosper but I cannot tell.
We are the sisters of a mother’s womb
Until the day we rest on a solitary tomb.
We burned the sacred books to get rid of the cold,
To the world that is yet to come – We are the mold.

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the count

It seems man has lost count,	
		to how many days have whizzed by,
	on this stock of soil and rock
		and as to how many gems in the sky,
	under the sizzling fireballs ceaseless shine,
		how many lives born divine,
	under the ever watchful eye of the maker.
		It seems man has lost count to how many drops of life ,
	in the sea,
		how many a tree, how many a flower,
	how many a bird and how many a bee..
		Man has lost count of all the small pieces out of which our world is made,
		All man can count are the pieces of bread......

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Without Interruption

"You really shouldn't park your white horses next to my Subaru."
"Rain? Rain? Are you listening?"
She picked her sleepy head off the teller's desk,
Her hair cascading over her cheeks.
"I was somewhere far away," she spoke from the bardo.
"I don't know. I don't know. And yet I know all I need to know."
"Move your horses. Take a lunch break. Get a grip,"
Said the lady who smelled like cake and wore pineapple earrings.

"Why do you eat so much cake in the morning?" 
Rain belted across the bank lobby.
"Can you even hear the rain outside, through all that icing inside?"

Her face flushed crimson between her dangling pineapples.
"Like I said," Rain continued, "I was far away, in a lost village,
Speaking to the descendants of my horses, Salient and Wonder.
"Can you hear me, pineapple lady? Can you hear this Rain?"

"Grab your horses and get out of here," the lady who adored cake shouted.
Rain lifted herself off her seat like a rising moon, and glided over the marble floor
Like the angel ghost of finance, mesmerized and mesmerizing.
Passing by she whispered to the tiny pineapple that clung the the fleshy ear, 
"I was never in here. I am quite far from here."

With that Rain went outside 
and walked her horses to the
meadow behind the parking lot
to reconvene with lost villages
Without interruption.

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a place called home

A place called home I’m not welcome
A tear rolls down my cheek I must go.
I feel sorrow in my heart the toil burdensome
Memories wither along with all that I know.

As I walk away I can’t look back
Faces I knew are no longer friends.
I wonder where I am is this the right track
The river flows onward around twists and bends.

Now it seems I’m lost my heart is torn
I wonder through thoughts parched and dry.
The more that I learn the less I know
To this cherished life I say goodbye.

It’s been a year yet my heart is still torn
It becomes a void consuming the good.
My hands are rough my shoes are worn
I’m lost in sorrow I would lose if I could.

Daylight comes but soon shall fade
Darkness is loneliness coursing through my veins.
Still haunting are all the decisions I made
The rain starts to fall erasing all these pains.

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I'm Sorry I Can't Be Perfect

I try not to think about the pain inside
That is the one thing that I always try to hide
It's just to late and we can't turn back
There is one thing, the only thing that I lack
I try so hard to make it but I just can't take
We've lost it all and nothing lasts forever
I feel like you haven't noticed my love ever
I'm never going to be good enough for you
I just wish that our world was made for two
You just don't understand how hard I try
To make your heart love me inside
It hurts me when you can't even see it
I hope that you can at least feel it
I can't stand another fight
My soul is lost every night
I just want you to feel
That my love for you is real
I hope that someday you will see
That you are in love with me...

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I look for myself

As I view a;; around me I wonder where the time went?
In the concept of time I was a speck that was spent
Nobody is left as I stand all alone
So I pick up the pieces and just go home.

I feel a bit betrayed I helped all that I could
I put my heart into it because I thought that I should
As I look at the returns they don’t equal what I put in
I wish for just this once it was my turn to win…

I gaze at the sunset as another day passes by
The beauty surrounds me the colors in the sky
I’m thankful for so my yet I feel a little empty
I’m feeling a bit lost in this land of plenty…

So many pieces I don’t know which to pick up
I feel like my life was inside that paper cup
Everyone ws done so it was just thrown away
So I just learn to live and fight another day.

Time keeps on ticking as ther clock unwinds
I still have my hope and the sun still shines
I just feel I’ve lost a little of my fight
I look for myself but I’m nowhere in sight,

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The Tale of Old Man Withers Gold part one

Three little boys
Went out on a adventure quest
To find the treasure of old man withers
At his place of final rest

In the forest of many lost souls
Is where the three boys would go
A dark and gloomy place
Especially to find some gold

Full of monsters and goblins’ 
Unknown I am told
That eats your body and even your bones
Right down to your soul alone, I am told

Knowing all of the risk
The three boys would still go
Cutting each of there hands
And sealing the deal in stone

The gear that they had got
Wasn’t considered a lot
Just three turkey ham sandwiches
Cajun style and that's Hot!!!

Eight bottles of water
And one rinky dink rope
The boys thought they were prepared
At least the boys they hoped

So they began walking to the forest
The forest of many lost souls
Down an old dirt road they went
One with many rocks and stones

On this dirt road
The oldest boy foretold
The stories of the forest
The forest of many lost souls

To prepare the other boys
Of what was expected to come
You could tell the look in there eyes
That they both were ready to run

But they both stayed
Because there was no way!!!
That a goblin who eats souls
Would get in the way of these boys gold

As they reached the forest
The Forest of many lost souls
There fingers began to chill
Warm blood turned to cold

They looked into the forest
The forest of many lost souls
Not noticing a single shadow
And especially no lost souls

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The Tale of Old Man Withers Gold part three, Conclusion

As the boys walked and walked
Through the forest of many lost souls
The boys began to feel they were lost
And would never find old man withers gold

But as the boys, were about to give up
The oldest had another feeling
And decided to look up
There he saw, what looked to be a cave
He told the other two, and they all shouted YaYYYY!!!!!

But this cave that he saw
In the forest of many lost souls
Didn’t seem to even contain
Any of Old man withers gold
Instead of precious gold
There lay a big pile of bones
Bones of little lost children
Children from there town back home

As the three boys noticed
That this was no treasure chest
The oldest boy realized
Head home would probably be best

But as they turned to head back home
The oldest boy heard
 A scary and vicious groan

So he looked into the darkness
To see what he could see
A big blackish wompass cat
With big ole shiny teeth

The three little boys 
That set out on a quest
Found themselves alone
Almost frightened to death

This wompass cat they saw
In forest of many lost souls
Was very big and very tall
I guess he ate all the souls

But these boys couldn't give up
As they didn’t do before
But they couldn't just outman this beast
For there strength was way to poor

As time was running out
For all the little boys
The oldest boy picked up
A stone that was on the floor
As he threw the stone
With all he had in store
To keep this wild and mangy beast
From getting all three boys souls

With this throw of the stone
Draw a quick blow to the head
There this mangy beast cat lay 
This wompass cat was dead 

As the boys started to leave
Towards there home they would head
The oldest boy noticed a light
Behind the cat that lay dead
This light was pretty gorgeous
A beauty often unseen
The boys took a closer look
The oldest said Cha Ching!!!!!

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Upon A Pale White Horse

A man in his field,
Whose heart rumbles fast,
To fear he shall yield,
The echoes of his past,

Of a life he stole,
The innocence he killed,
Deep in his soul,
No longer concealed.

As a sound of thunder,
 Vibrates the ground,
He’s lost in wonder,
At this mysterious sound.

But as the thunder nears,
He knows its course,
Now a vision he hears,
That robed figure upon a pale white horse.

Flowing in the wind,
Is this vision of Death,
Who’s face bears no skin,
And breaths not a breath.

In it’s bony hand,
It wields a scythe,
This soul forever dammed,
Has come for a life.

Grasping a book,
That reads one name,
And the life he took,
Bearing the finger of blame.

It is Death who’s come,
For that lost soul,
It can’t be undone,
There is only one goal.

He tries to hide,
But cannot escape,
Though the fields are wide,
They match his fate,

Death now arrives,
At his final dwelling,
Watching the cries,
Of his silent yelling,

It takes the life,
Of a soul evil tainted,
With that razor scythe,
 Now maroon painted.

Upon the horse he’s tossed,
Without screams or kicks,
Now Death carries him off,
To the river of Styx.

So when thunder does fall,
With that figure you see,
Run or stand tall,
You still can’t flee.

In time it resides,
Feeling no remorse,
It is Death who rides,
Upon the pale white horse.

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Still memories haunt

If only you knew what you did today,
Would it all change words of yesterday?
Or did it all happen just so you’d learn? 
You can see better as the tables are turned.

The lessons we learn seem to come at a cost.
What we learn weighs against what we lost.
Things keep moving, time marches on.
Thing that are lost become what we long.

I wonder was it worth it the price paid.
All I left behind I wished could have stayed.
The sun rises up to greet this new day.
Memories haunt the events of today.

I know there’s no sense living in the past.
You can never outrun the shadows it cast.
You woke up today life passed you by.
Maybe you just forgot how to try?

I find myself older yet I lost some trust.
It was left in the rain and started to rust.
Once it is lost it’s so hard to get back.
I try some new cards from off of the stack.

It doesn’t seem better but it could be worse.
Maybe my destiny has plotted this course.
I don’t expect anything I see what’s to come.
I see what I need and try to grab some.

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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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temptation of st. anthony

st. anthony,the patron saint of travelars and the return of things lost or stolen,
is more about our soul being and our souls quest.we are all travelars in this 
world,our true quest is our souls journey.along the way,it's possible to become 
lost or a certain sense of wandering,not knowing for sure what it is we are feeling,
but at times that inner feeling can seem more real than our perceptive reality.
the minor detours and distractions along the way are designed to influence 
moments of giving up hope and losing faith.a negative force with only one 
purpose,their "sole"purpose is to steal our "soul"purpose and to mislead and 
distract us into losing our focus of direction,'s reference to lost or 
stolen things has nothing to do with material wealth,material wealth is but that 
classic carrot dangling on a stick which we'll never reach,designed only to create 
seperation of self,like a wedge.part of st. anthony's creed is, "while treasures lost 
are found again " about the true gold ,the true wealth within' , the golden 
key neccesary for our approach to the golden gate.

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hope - part two

sorrowed and sullied, averting his eyes with a half-hearted smile
making his way down from her loft, on creaky steps, into the rain
over his shoulder, her fireplace casting a warm glow through her window
and the ember of hope residing inside him finally rekindled

stoking the flames, she did for nearly four annuals
until one evening, by the song of a siren, her spectre did disappear
without warning, without reasoning, without expecting return
openly she wept for his return, quietly he wept at his newfound pain

lost and tortured, he screamed - both from inside and outside himself
only his memories of the lady in white keeping him tethered to life
nearly a full decade, his persistent persecution echoing over ages
his memories of her all but gone, she now a spectre in his mind

released and relieved from the rack, his broken mind and body rest
the cool floor against his chest and cheek comforting to his soul
fragments flashing of the one, the only one, who he met so long ago
peeling his broken body from the floor, his wounds barely healed

his trek back a mirror image of the one taken from years past
taking him back to the land where his entire life went up in flames
hanging his head, he speaks to his maternal and inamoratal ghosts
finally relinquishing that pain, carrying forward, hopeful of his new life

lady in white, unsuspecting when the spectre returns
her loving embrace, warm smile and sincerity in her words melt over him
worry of her loss escaping through his first expelled breath
relief and retribution entering as his breathes her vanilla scent once more

m, thank you for all you've done for me throughout the years. even when you weren't there physically, you were always that angel on my shoulder, making me question my negative actions. i am so glad to have you back in my life after so long. and i promise, i will never leave you hanging again. hugz & kisses - Raven

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He was an old man, limping down the hall,
She was an old lady, leaning against the wall,
            He said," Isn't your name Ellen?"
            She said,"No, my name is Helen."

So here they met, in a hospital hallway,
             On a very warm summer day,
               He was 80, her age- 75,
    Neither had family still alive.

Two lonely, old people, wandering life's hall,
    Needing somebody to buffer their falls,
 Who would believe that in a hospital  hall they met,
               I would surely have lost that bet.

        Two lost souls, lonely and blue,
        Looking only for what was their due,
            A little company, a little love,
        Before their date with God up above.

        They found it there in that hospital stay,
                  It's with them still, to this very day,
                A Love so tender, a love so deep,
                  It will be theirs, forever to keep.

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The Day The Innocence Died

The cold winds are blowing the skies are so clear
Winter is upon me as the end grows near
No understanding just me and fear
The sorrow just grows as I shed a tear...

Visions of destruction are stuck in my head
As I look all around so many people are dead
A plane streaks the sky and then bursts into flames
As the fortress tumbles down nothing is left the same.

Sorrow grows in my heart as teardrops fill my eyes
There just seems no reason for all who have died
The towers tumble down and then fall to the ground
Death just arises without making a sound.

I look above thought I heard the angels cry
It just was the sound of the innocence that died.

Candles are lit as they flicker with hope
While the fate of mankind seems to hang from a rope
People gather together to share how they feel
It's just so much happened it doesn't seem real.

Visions reappear as the bell starts to toll 
It's seems to ring out for all those lost souls
Where once stood a fortress there now is a hole
I try to run and hide but there's nowhere left to go.

There's silence today no planes in the sky
The bell just tolls on as the day passes by
I feel so much sorrow I can't help but cry
A country in mourning the day the innocence died.

I try to make some sense but still can't understand
How can I go on I don't know if I can?
I feel like a stranger in a stranger land
It's the day of no innocence the time is at hand.

Visions retreat my mind needs a rest
I try to survive I give it my best
But I just can't stop thinking of all that has died
I can't shake the sorrow guilt stands at its side.

I wonder what happened where it all went wrong
The freedom that we have lost becomes what we long
It's history repeating as we hear that same sad song
Is it too late now that the innocence is gone?

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                          As we embark on the 10 year anniversery of 9/11,
                  I look up in the sky and realize how lucky I am to be alive.
                   So many people lost their loved ones on that tragic day.
        All the brave, couragous, selfeless people that ran in to help total strangers!
         They never for once thought about their life but, only wanted to others survive.
            The day the two towers fell, those suicide bomber's died and went to hell!
               The United States suffered a great loss, so much death was in the air.
        I pray every night for those who lost their life, for their families to keep astride.
          I know what it is like to lose loved ones but, in the mist of all the tragedy, 
                           a phoenix shall rise and the eagel shall fly high!
                        The terrorists thought we would just run and hide.
                             But, what we did was fly OLD GLORY HIGH! 
              We as a nation banded together and helped pray for one another.
                    September 11,2001, we will never foreget all the losses.
               All the people that did not survive, they are watching over us,
                                              dancing high in the skies!

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A Narrowed Soul

Tonight I grow tired of keeping the secrets that were spark within my visions.  I 
must tell someone of what I saw and how the end came to be.  From the 
beginning we never understood how the human spirit came to be and the 
common thread of existence that bounds us like a string of beads waiting to go 
around the infinite loop of our universe.  Changes have come and gone and yet 
my memories do not change.  I saw the beginning and I saw the end but yet I 
live.  Why?  I remember seeing so many things.  I felt the fabric of everyone I ever 
knew intertwined within my every breath.   It was like we were machines.  As they 
say we were someone’s eyes and ears to a world that was going to end.  We 
collected as much data as we could before the end.  I am not sure if they know 
how much data I retained from these ordeals.  And maybe they know exactly and I 
am here because of it still.  But why?  I was taken through worlds that made no 
sense.  Worlds that were chaotic with no remorse.  I feared what I saw and 
asked my almighty GOD to help me overcome.  My children how I love them so.  
My daughter she was with me in my journey.  She is my life and what I believe 
has helped me make sense of everything that has and is happening.  Where am 
I?  Is this my world?  Is this the world that has become or just another vision.  
Someone’s idea of living.  Who would do this to a man?  I lost every connection 
to my existence, who I thought were my friends and family were only decoys of 
someone’s sentence.  Why? What do they hope to gain?  Am I lost in my mind?  
Is what I thought to be my reality a dream or a memory, am I blind.  Once I 
remember what it felt like to live with no fear.  To know that tomorrow you will get 
up and everything would be as it was and still here.  Unchanged and forgiving.  
How these things have change me!  How these things have narrowed my loving 
soul.  But I still hold the greatest love for my GOD.  If it wasn't’t for his helping 
hand reaching down and pulling me from the depths of the great beyond, I would 
have never been able to tell you this story.  We need to love life once again.  We 
need to go back to the basics my friend.  Is it too late?  Has the human race 
dwindled to the point that we must visit our past to fix our future?  The messages 
are clear, listen closely and you will hear.  Look even closer and you will see that 
we must never lose site of what it means to live.  This babble means nothing to 
who ever reads it but for tonight it will help me sleep.  Good night.

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The lost and found 
all walk this earth.
We trudge along
till death from birth.

At the age of eighteen
the Lord found me
wallowing around
in my misery.

I asked for His help
and He showed me His love.
But when things got better
I suddenly had enough.

I was bound and determined
to do it my way.
My lust for the flesh
led me astray.

I never even knew
I was so alone.
My heart was so lonely.
It turned to stone.

Believing my life wasn't 
as bad as it appears. 
Lost in my addiction
of sex, drugs, and beers.

Stubbornly I continued
to live the lie.
Pretending I was happy
with no love in my life.

No matter how hard I tried 
all I could do was fail.
I guess I was Jonah
and the earth was the whale.

Battered and beaten
after the world swallowed me. 
Confused inside the belly.
of the whale in the sea.

I felt like a captive
and I had to get out.
Quietly whispered prayers
with a head full of doubt.

So lost in my sins 
I didn't think He was near.
Softly I said, Lord are you there?
And You said, "I'm still here".

No longer living the life
of a sinners neglect.
Your forgiveness is love
that I'll never forget.

Now I know I haven't been forgotten.
Of this I have no doubt.
Because the Lord tickled that whale
and the earth spit me out.     Amen

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Suicide Note

I'm sorry I haven't written in some time 
I've been lost in myself. I've been trying to find 
just one reason I shouldn't leave this life behind 
close the door on the past, which still torments my mind 
sure, I know all these years you've been trying to prod 
me along the right path saying “let go, let God” 
but to let go of guilt is what seemed to evade me 
for some reason not even God could persuade me 
There's so many times that I've wanted to die 
that I've wanted to call you and just say goodbye 
but I'd suddenly see the tears fall from your eyes 
so I'd drink myself numb and continue the lie 
I've been living and still live to this very day 
I just want it to end, I cannot live this way 
anymore, please just know I'm not putting the blame 
on you. You're not the reason I'm living in shame 
If I told you I loved you I probably meant it 
but words weren't enough, so you'll probably resent it 
There's so many things I've been needing to say 
I've kept locked up inside, my fear stood in the way 
and I've lost all these years to my selfish desires 
I've laughed as your dreams for us slowly expired 
If there was just one thing left for me to do 
I would go back in time to the day I met you 
and forget all those things that you wanted to show me 
I'd just walk away so you would never know me 
Forgive me for every word that I'm saying 
I know with each word that I'm surely betraying 
the hopes and the dreams through the years we have built 
but your innocence just cannot outweigh my guilt 
so good bye and I'm sorry. I'll always regret 
how I came to be someone you'll never forget. 

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Freedom before my lost brother

Freedom before my lost brother

They march before the rising sun with guns at six
We stand before sun down with signs of freedom

Who really marches to the same drum? 
When my hand have been blown off for beat
The beat, the beat, the beat

As he races from the explosion of freedom in his chest
For freedom
To escape this tide of hate
That swept us slaves of red, white and blue

And he is nothing like before when hate took him away
He is a man at six and we are still children as adult
War took my hands and feet I am no solider
I fight for freedom not money
You fight so this tide will not cross-oceans and sands

We fight here for food and light
And light, to breathe, to die for family
Across the ocean hand my son an ak-47
And he will march and kneel before God for forgiveness

Hand my brother a ruger and he will stand in the shadows for American greed
Greed in the land of freedom and hope, black in the shadows
And mother can mend wounds here across the oceans she can only dial 
Of relief
Mother over there must know how to be doctor and surgeon, and warrior for the 
Generation to survive, to live

We cannot procreate; we are the ends of mankind
With bombs in the hands of babies
To extend our left hand of hate across the ocean, across towers of hope

We must all be the same here a million mile from each other
My skin dictates that I hate, be hated, I rape, be raped
I bleed red, white and blue
Watching in shock, disbelief as red, white and blue goes up in flames in the 
Ashes of the wind just like you

Freedom can never come to me here before her with that torch 
My mother across  the ocean must be sending me a package of death to kill my 
four father
Your four father because my complexion means that no one can see me
 I am a lost brother, forgotten sister 
 Hated child with no hands, no hands in freedom

March me before television cameras, signs of peace, and words of love
I am still a lost brother............ before truth
But you knoe me so well..
From the the same box that caused my cousins in your land to be hung
Money means nothing here, Money means every thing beside her with the torch
Pass it to me so I may freedom---the truth

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Hands reached out and grabbed my heels as
I walked this once bloody field. They were
just everyday hands, miners, carpenters, the
hands of the butchers boy, the bank clerk, 
the sordid hands of the local Johnny no good.
The tinker, the tailor, the poacher, all pressed
for the glory of war, a glory lost in knee deep
mud and indiscriminate lead. Where the Devil
played poker with fate for the right of souls,
the Ferryman busy that day. Before my feet
the Poppies fall like men in sights at duties
call, then and now the field turned red. I sit
the depression where some cannon chewed,
now overgrown with moss and memories.
Whispers glide by me, idle banter, everyday
chat, sport, sisters getting married, mothers
worried, will anyone remember me, why.
This muddy morass where men walked or 
ran, never realizing that death had its own
pace. And yet every step was made of duty,
glory forsaken as a lost cause, every step
seen as one closer to home. How many 
names beneath this soil, how many stories
feed these poppies, and how many dreams
still lie bleeding.

Walk the battlefields and you will feel those
hands, the tinker, the tailor, the butcher boy

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Cry of Draupadi

Cry of Draupadi*

Venomous vipers haunt me.
Stormy scorpions pervade me.
Lethal lizard lying before me.
Utter gloom, sheer horror.
Dark phobia, nasty despair in the atmosphere.
Like Draupadi cry I.
But no assistance from Gopala.
Only Dushashans and Duryodhans exist.
I am being disrobed.
I am being seduced.
My thighs violently pinched.
All are Dhritrashtras here.
No Bhim to consume Dushashan's blood.
Only Duryodhan, Dushashan, Shakuni 
And Dhritrashtra surround me.
Alas! I am being defiled.
Kauravas laugh.
Dhritrashta's blindness has a method in it.
"She is very passionate.
She is a hungry whore.
She can satisfy all", says Dushashan.
Of course, she has satisfied all.
Scamsters, gangsters, brokers
Politicians, technicians and physicians.
All have touched her,
Slapped the fleshy organs,
Kissed the frail skin.
But, she is in tears.
Kohinoor is lost.
Past pristine glory can not be retrieved.
No national pride here.
No Gold in Olympic Games.
And no claim for the land occupied by the neighbour.

*According to classical epic Mahabharata, Pandavas and Kauravas were cousins. Draupadi 
was the wife of the Pandavas. The Pandavas lost Draupadi to the Kauravas in the gamble. 
The chief of the Kauravas were Duryodhana and Dushashan. They were supported by their 
maternal uncle Shakuni and blind father Dhritrashtra. When Draupadi was lost in the game 
of dice, Dushashan tried to disrobe her. At that time Lord Krishna, the Gopala protected her 
by providing her with an unending Sari (an Indian dress). Later on, one of the Pandavas 
drank the blood of Dushashan to avenge the humiliation of Draupadi. In this poem, mother 
India is represented as Draupadi; while corrupt scamsters, gangsters, brokers, politicians, 
technicians and physicians are just like the Kauravas.

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A letter to my friend - II

To my dearest dear…
I hope you are doing fine
Here am occupied by laboring time
I came along to write for you
Hear from you after a long-time.
The last I met you at my place
I remember that day when you smiled at my face
Since then it had been a year
I miss you like a meteor lost in space.
Overnight chit-chats and long distance calls
Without you my friend
I would have lost nothing but all.

The day when I first saw you at the college canteen
My friend! Please forgive me
As I saw you that moment bit adversely. 
Yet, it was so kind of you
That you meant for friendship,
I would never forget this acquaintance
An inbound eternal relationship.
I like you the way you speak
Specially when you speak overslowly,
I love you the way you care
Specially when you soothe me.
I admire your respect towards me
Specially when you intend me,
I wonder your candidness
Specially when I speak craps and nonsenses. 
I laugh when I think of your responses
Towards those names given
I smile at your melodrama
And often by those conflicts again and again. 
I felt so calm
A time when I shared my baffled charm
I felt so celestial
A time when you eased me by your warm. 

My friend! If ever you need me
I will kill myself if you remind me that
I’ll read your mind, I will read your eyes
I’ll read your voice
And you will see me there. 

How far you are going
You deserve a lot to me
Not matter if you forget me
I will live with your memories
Thinking that you are always there. 
But promise me this won’t happen
Or else its easy to say
In reality I may lose myself once again.

I just wanted to hear from you today
And I just wish you live a long way
You live with no fear, no tears
I promise you a day you will always find me near.

Oh! My friend
I miss you like anything
Just before leaving
I want to say you goodbye.
The words written for you today
Are written forever…
Just will wait to hear from you, a reply
Till then take care and bubye. 
With love from…your longed amigo.

(Please note: This poem is dedicated to my friend Angshumala Goswami)

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love birds

Love Two love birds………. On a branch of a tree, I saw two birds so free. Sitting on the tree, The two seemed so sweet. The two lost in each, Trying to forget the world so mean. The two were in love, For sure in love. After their first meet, The two looked so sweet, Lost in dreams, They were so in each The two were in love, For sure in love.
They kept meeting, talking and wondering, The two were lost, And surely in thoughts, They looked wonderful and felt successful. The two were in love, For sure in love. After some days The two were one, The souls were joint and hearts attached, The two became we, From you and me, Everything around was happy and cheerful. The two were in love, For sure in love After all days of happiness, The law of average took its place, The two went away. Still the two were in love, Yes… This is the strength of Love..!

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I have much to be thankful for

The sun comes up and the sky is so blue.
Still, I’m uncertain of what it is I should do.
I awake to realize I have much to be thankful for.
I open my eyes and my heart for what is in store.

Some days I get lost and don’t know what to go.
Sometimes it feels like any way the wind blows.
I seem to do better with the friends that care.
They make me see that they shall always be there.

When I get sad and feel quite alone,
They offer my heart a place to call home.
Though I feel lost I seem to get better.
Like when the rain falls, I only get wetter.

I usually have troubles with this time of year.
I remember the people that I hold so dear.
Last night I received a call and had to smile.
Today I shall rest and take care for a while.

I don’t always understand why I do what I do.
I just follow my heart and these feelings are true.
I hope for things to get better and look for a source.
I just need to find a way to get back on course.

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Smart Woman

It was the evening before Thanksgiving,
so off to the biggest store in town I went, for a few items,
I needed to complete my Thanksgiving Feast.
Everyone was grabbing, and hurrying to get out.
I was totally out of my comfort zone, 
for I hardly ever come here,
except to buy a few things, you don't find anywhere else.
Then there he was, lost as a goose in a thunder storm,
his wife had played a severe trick on him.
A list he held in his hand for the items she needed.
I heard him talking to himself, so I stayed close behind him,
just for the entertainment.
Marshmallows, does she want the big ones or the small ones,
oh no, couldn't put that down, so I'll buy both.
Cherries, now where are they, probably way over on the other
side of the building.
Just then he turned around to look at me,
am I blocking you, if so I am sorry, but I don't know 
where anything is, and with this crowd in here, I can't
even think, much less find anything.
No, I said, you are fine, I am just as lost as you are,
that's when he told me, my wife played a cruel trick on me.
She wanted to come early, and get this over with, but I told
her, what is the rush, well, I will never say that again, ever,
and if I get out of here alive, you will never see me pushing a buggy
in here again without my wife.
I don't know how she does it.
I thought to myself, smart man.
We have to give his wife credit, smart woman.

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There was a place called Loversville.
    Where couples could go to have their hearts refilled.
Those that had lost that twinkle in their eyes.
    Could go to Loversville to reap a joyous surprise.
You start off with a single kiss.
    Then you hold their gaze you cannot miss.
A simple touch can show you care.
    A soft spoken word brings forth fruit to bear.
Memories will suddenly flood your mind.
   The love of two hearts and a world left behind.
There is no charge the price is free.
    But when the love starts to flow you’ll drop to your knees.
You’ll remember the day, you’ll see her that way.
    When love struck your heart and you stuttered to say.
How all of your life with her you must spend.
    Till the world stops turning even then your love will never end.
Just look for the sign it’s always around.
     When lovers get lost and need to be found.
The population is small it’s always just two.
     Your lover is one and two must be you.
Come on in and fall in love once again.
     Be lovers once more aren’t you glad you came in?

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not long ago the earth was young
a dark shadow rose and blocked the sun
the people were lost in the chaos and hate
they lost everything to this dying fate
as luck grew low and people grew weak
they cried to the sky "its a miracle we seek"
this was the first time the moon did glow
yet not one soul would know
the moon was the miracle of which they cried
and without the shadow passes as the sun bound
by the moon, cycled the earth around and around

peace remained because day and night
slept peacefuly with dark and light
with their truth, protected us all
but with them soon came the fall
a fight broke out between anger and tears
night tried to stop it, but then came fears
fears and envy bred hatred anew
and chaos again spawned and grew
all was not lost at this time of pain
but hope was rare and almost found it vain
a balance must create a chaos
just as finding causes true loss
so if we could not have perfect peace
then how do we quell hatred the beast
if light and dark were truly the same
why was it chaos who was always to blame

finally the spiris decided to go their own ways
tired of wasting energy on the fighting days
their final solution was what saved us all
keep far from each other or suffer the call
if one met another we would all return
and this world that was protected would cease to turn

so now with fears, hate, envy, chaos, tears, dark, night, day, and night along
if these nine spirits had left one another and where seperated and gone
this is where twilight enters the truth
along with the others and joining them were; friend ship, joy, compasion, teamwork, turth
twilight you see was the one that brought with it the rest
twilight brought together everyone and their best
twilight truly showed them the way
and these are the words twilight spoke that day

as long as i remain, i reside of both
dark and light
of day and night
of chaos and compasion
of envy and teamwork
of truth and tears
of joy and fears
of friendship and hate

so believe in me and have no shame
it is only i that hold the burden of blame
i who am everything of you and yet
i who have nothing to lose or benifit
you must reason among one another
and find it in your selves to trust each other

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Locked behind a field of stars,
Hidden behind battle scars,
Living only to contend,
What is righteous without end.

Stare profusely at the time
When dreams had matter more sublime
Than existence in a shallow climb

Where hopes are shattered
Made a joke
And empty promises are choked
Beyond the point of no return
And those who dare they wind up spurned.

Yet somewhere in this blinding vision,
The spirit of a knight once christened
Emerges from behind the stars 
Waging battle from afar
To those who trample on the weak
And those who cower under meek
Obscenities meant to deny
Aspirations to a tie.

Amidst the field of shattered glass
Betwixt the blades of blood-stained grass
Knights of valor lie in wait
For the oncoming barrage of hate

Fitted armor and a sword
Weapons only of a sort
That principles of virtue cry
Impediments towards those who strive
To hinder what is right and true
And places evil into view.

Where chaos discontented reigns
And knowledge serves of only pain
Emerges steady into lieu
Creatures aimed to misconstrue.

Armed with weapons of a sport
Meant to maim and to contort
Complacency…create in a word
A kingdom of their own accord.

Filled with displeasure… discontent
Rejecting faith as it was meant
To conquer nothing above all
Just eliminate this squall
Between men of different creed
Which only one there shall succeed.

Now the two opposing sides
Growing nearer in their strides
Each one bellowing his cries
Of righteousness and chide
Both caught up amongst their lies
That either side is to subside
Till their very last is tried
And only silence coincides.

Amongst the carcasses struck down
On the field lay all around
Remnants of the dead are found
And only silence is the sound

Of a battle that was waged
Since the origin of age.

Yet…from atop the tattered skies
On the field there does arise
One survivor from each side

Each too tired to discern
The longing to return
Where the lost once knew as home
And honor those who’ve lost and mourn

Going each one his own course
Till they gather enough force
And their paths become traversed
When the next battle is posed.

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I lost my aunt Doreene
I still think about her
when I was little I would go over to her house
and she would give me
one day she packed her things and left
for Texas
the next day I got a phone call
my aunt Doreene had died
i sat on my bed and cried
asking myself why
my aunt Nancy didn't invite me to the funeral
because she didn't like me
I will never forgive my aunt Nancy
I just lost the person I have loved all my life
and I couldn't even say good-bye it hurt
so bad.

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Unkept Secrets

                                    If fate's when first impressions love
                                  Then regret's yearning what never was
                                    At ease entranced my eyes retrieve
                                                Forgotten memories
                                      Told this tale countless times 
                                  I loved an angel who lost her mind
                             Choose one word which rhymes with fate
                             Relive my life and transcend its mistakes
                             Reclaim precious time, addiction wastes
                      Some angels charm, yet their misery is shared fate

                                         Past memories,I can't forget 
                                   To cherish the past without regret
                                               Until my last breath
                              An angel's death is my secret unkept

                     If wisdom's embraced, trying moments mature
                                Some more fortunate, won't endure
                                Search the cosmos, search inside
                                Is regret volition's reward?And why?

                              Some lost souls embrace addiction
    Save precious time , their unfurtunate fate is an intuitive prediction
                        Some have past lives they've barely survived
                           Is pain volition's reward, or human error?
                              Is regret finite? Will love last forever?

                                         Past memories I can't forget
                                   To cherish the past without regret
                                              Until my last breath 
                                  An angel's death is my secret unkept                                        

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The Great White Shield

Held prisoner under His Stars, 
I have fallen under the shadows of THE “Great White Shield”.
At a distance, those shimmering lights covered over me.
Built on THE highest plains, I stand parallel even when His rains come down.
My wall stands tall as my fate is promised and sealed.
I see my passage through time as I hold sturdy to my only God given ground.
I am all that I know I can ever be.
Confined by a little world where all that there is has been lost or found,
My bleeding wall holds my “ ALMIGHTY’S Great Armored White Shield“.
Balanced with time even when His rains are pouring down!
It stands to serve and to protect the best of the living me.
Layer by layer it builds with the strength it has lost or found.
For, I am all that is genuinely real.
Conditioned by my endurance, His Stars my eyes still can see.
Ruling the way that I move, His existence is wrapped tightly and I abound.
Parallel on His plains, a sturdy wall I did gradually help Him build.
My wall protects the only person inside of me.
I secure my only ground as I hold onto His “Great White Shield”.
I am all that I have ever truly found.
When the rains pour down on me, 
I stand atop of all His battled ground.
When I am all with my realest deal,
I am all that can or will be found.
When I am all that I know I can ever be,
I carry a strength that alone I can build.
I am the carrier of my Almighty’s Great White Shield”.

®Registered: 1998  Ann Rich

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The Turnaround

We have come to the juncture
We are at the turn-around
Hey, they are headed for Heaven'
Yet, the others'
Are Heaven bound
With no distention
They are lost to be found
And their Spirits'
And Souls' are lost to be found'
They are looking for eternal
Edification, which can only
Be found threw the
Trust of God
And to thy God, Ye must
Submit or become like
The others'


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Try Not To Judge

Come take my hand,
don't turn away,
try not to judge,
I just lost my way.
My journey began,
trying to be cool,
following friends,
who were lost too.
Deeper, and deeper,
into the fire,
without a net,
walking on high wires.
Everything lost,
my family, and faith,
dwelling in misery,
in the hell I made.
Beyond this grave,
I see a light,
oh so faint,
but a wonderful sight.
Positive I must be,
if I am to survive,
does anyone care,
if I am alive?
Alone, and crying,
I clench my fist,
how could I allow,
a tragedy like this?
A new beginning,
someone does care,
help is coming,
from the light somewhere.
A hand I see,
is reaching for me,
please heal me Lord,
from this addicts need.

A prayer for my son..his journey to recovery is about to begin... please pray for him...

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It all started with the fall of our great towers
We lost our own citizens to a small group of cowards
For those people that died, we honored them with our flowers

We sent troops over to fight in foreign land
To find out who ordered the command, that brought our country so much sorrow
And the fear of what would come tomorrow

Our loved ones have been fighting for months on end
Fighting the enemy who brought us to defend, our nation who fear’s and cries 
because of them

Why has it come to this?
Years of conflict and days of pain
Our soldiers are still fighting, but in who’s name?

This conflict has had nothing to show except for our dead
Who lay to rest in eternity’s bed
Forever lost with nothing we can do

We look at our leader and say “It’s all because of you”
Are feeling have brought us to hate our own kind
We as a nation can not see past our own bind

Throughout all this agony and pain, 
Our troops still fight from morning to night

They fight for what they know
Will eventually lead them to the sought after crow

The crow of disaster, the crow of pain
The evil man that brought us this shame

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The awesome power of prayer


What is the power that is found in prayer?
   That is the question I asked all through our little town square.
And the answers would range from cynical to prophetic.
   It wasn’t hard to tell those who believed and those who were skeptic.
And to the question are we living in our final days?
   You could see it on their faces how they had lost their ways.
It must of raised some torment to say the very least.
   When I tried to tell them that sinful living was a mark of the beast.
Some wanted to know more, while others turned and fled.
   They must have felt the power of the holy words I said.
To me it’s plain and simple we must adhere to God and His word.
   Or be lost in the rubble and our voices never heard.
Be careful who you follow for the devils on the loose.
   It’s your soul that he’s after, he’s out to cook your goose.
The devil is not your friend so please don’t believe his lies.
   What I’m trying to tell you, these are words to the wise.
Give it all to Jesus, give Him the whole ball of wax.
   He’ll stand up for you, He’ll stop the devil in his tracks.
Back to the question of the power of prayer.
   It seems I must have opened up a can of worms here in our little town square.
And it was to my delight how a few would still stand and fight.
    The power of prayer is what it takes if you’re seeking Gods awesome might.
Pray for your country, family, friends, and church, pray that your pastor has an 
anointing to spread the Holy Word.
    Pray on your knees, standing, or sitting anywhere , Pray fervently to our Savior 
and  rest assured your prayer and every word was  heard. 

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The Sorcerer and the Apple

Hearken well,
As I commence to tell
This tale of the apple that fell
From a tree I believed from Hell:

Black I wore on this sunny day,
Similar to all my other days
When the Sun went away
I Lost all faith,
Thus lost my way.
Where my integrity went, no one says.
I Walked into a dark forest,
A maze,
On a night with no moon and no face,
I gazed at the gates
Not afraid, but rather amazed.

Me, myself, and I,
On this blackest of nights,
Walking in this forest of frights,
Without any shining light,
Blinded by self-stupidity,
A stark, blinding dark,
The beast's, who shall be named Anger, barks,
My bullying ego and my absent heart,
My sanity and humanity, were way too far,
You see I was helpless from the start.

When everything "seemed", or so to speak, wrong,
And hope was long gone,
Without a spawn
An apple came along,
I was no longer alone:

This apple gave me eyes,
In many ways made me wise
This apple offered light;
It defined beauty,
In color, shape, and size.
'twas a precious surprise.

But then came a time,
Again, I became blind,
Only with a stupidity, quite sublime,
So here came the crime:
I was succumbed by hunger and greed,
Needed to feed my needs,
My desire:
To eat the whole fruit but the seeds,
I devoured it,
Indeed I did.

What a waste, such a life,
Such a pity,
One True Lie,
I sliced the apple in slices with my knife.
That which represents my insolence and pride.

If only I had left Hubris by the tree,
Withholding Anger in his leash, next to me,
Then I wouldn't have agreed
To walk right beside Glee,
Sadly, I was weak,
As you can see,
My tolerance limited to short degree.

Here I am,
I see dark,
I see not.
Hear the lamb,
The one I'll sacrifice
To get my apple back.

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Those sweaty and uncomfotable days
seem to have lost their intensity,
and glancing far into infinity
can be done with more clarity;
storms are much rarer to stike
and fling their lightinings
to warn us or cause some fright,
when we wish to see a rainbow so bright....

Summer is ending quickly,
but the slowly-moving sail-boats 
aren't anchored in the quite harbor:
they're sailing safely
on calm waters,where no ship 
is ever brought down!
I'm reluctant to leave so suddenly,
and not contemplate the sea-bed 
as flourescent as light,
when I passionately write
another poignant poem
 which won't be lost to oblivion...

Some of us seek only leisure,
I seek a relation with creation...
not doubting who made it
and if controversy intervenes, 
I look deeper into persuasion:
there'll be no thought left
unobscured or unexpressed before intuition;
and you should be amazingly glad to hear...
uttered words that are not silenzed like secrets,
if attribution is not there!   

Summer is ending quickly through dismay...
as blazing days discern their shortness,
but the dazzled and flamboyant swams stare
and tranquilly float soutth-wards of the solemn bay;
what I enjoy now,can be retold or relived
through the poems of other poets,
mine are still waiting to be discovered...
to be claimed without much fanfare!

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Come Inside

A young woman sits alone on the steps of a church,
her heart is so full of pain, she has been through so
All by herself, and afraid to go in, what will these people
think about all her sins.
Then out of nowhere, an old lady appeared, and sat
down beside her, asking, "why all the tears."
The young woman told her about her past, and lost years,
and the reason for her pain, and all the tears.
As the old lady listened to her every word, they brought
back so many memories, as she listened to this poor girl.
Then she told the young woman, she was once lost too,
but God sent her a miracle, with a heart so true.
For sixty years, she had loved only one man, who
had a heart full of compassion, and was able
to understand.
"For the last forty years, he had ministered here,
his spirit is so strong, I still feel him here."
"My son has taken the ministry now, and he is so 
excited to be back in his hometown."
"So let us hurry inside, and find us a seat,
you know, God has a lot of good people in there
for you to meet."

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Day's Last Light

Golden sunglow 
molten heat rises against slender shadows 
once flowering trees...
tall skeletons without their leaves 
their pink pedals once plush  
lost in infinite sands outnumbering stars dust 

Glowing white stratus melting like snow 
over miles everlasting where nothing shall grow
Distant grand canyons and red sandstone mesas
the sun harms the lost and faithless

The camel's path...ancient sandwriting
guiding its followers until saved 
the lost find thier grave
The day journey's slow the lost age quick
night promises an inviting gift
yet cool darkness seems true as myth 

When faith's kept and all is hopeless despite   
the odds the lost find solace in day's last light

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A New Found Soul

 Drifting from place to place.
   Doing nothing more than consuming space.
Life that had simply lost its reason.
   Like a flower that blooms, not knowing its season.
A lonely, lonely soul in an uncaring land.
   At the very mercy of unknowing hands.
So far down the ladder that all hope had left his mind.
   Not caring of tomorrow for he knew what he would find.
Then a gentle voice softly tugged at his soul.
   And said you’re not really lost but have simply lost your goal.
The voice had come from deep within.
   With encouragement as where to start all over again.
First, humble yourself before the Lord.
   Seek His guidance but stay on guard.
For the enemy is out there to lead you wrong.
   But always praise our Savior with worship and song.
To this new found soul it worked so well.
   He loves to testify to all who will hear his tale.
                    GLORY TO GOD

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My Lord and Savior


The Lord will lead us, if we seek to be led.
    The Lord will feed us ( like the Israelites in the desert ) if we ask to be fed.
There is no task that my God cannot master.
   He can send love or punish us with disasters.
He is the creator of all things be it large or be it small.
    He is the one God and the only God for us all.
He is The Alpha, The Omega, The beginning and also the end.
    He’s the current in the ocean, the forever blowing wind.
My God bows down to none.
    My God is the Awesome One.
My God holds the universe in one hand.
    The vastness of my God no man could possibly comprehend.
He can be fluid or solid, or as soft as a vapor or bright as a ray.
    He took the darkness from the night and breathed into it light and called it day.
He is the answer to my prayers.
    He is my God the one who truly cares.
He helps us when we’re lost .
    He was the one nailed on that cross.
He is my Savior of this I know.
    He is always with me where ere I go.
Jesus is but one of His many names He answers to.
    He will answer us all, yeah even you.
If you feel lost you might well be.
    Try calling out to Jesus in all honesty.
Repent of your sin.
    Invite our Savior in.
You’ll be glad you did,Thanks

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Let The Lord Lead

The old man was ragged, dirty, and quite ill kept,
       As he sat next to me on the park bench I could tell it had been a while since 
perhaps he’d slept.
He looked weary and tired like he’d just lost it all,
      He had the look of a man who had his back to the wall.
I’m usually not this blunt but I was suddenly inspired,
      Is there anything I can do to help I modestly inquired?
As his lip started quivering and he wiped the tears from his old eyes,
     He said I lost my job while back, still don’t know the reason as to why.
Next thing that happens, the company goes under and my pension is lost.
     I couldn’t afford a lawyer, they wanted their money up front and it was too great 
of a cost.
My savings went fast paying the mortgage and notes,
     I couldn’t find another job due to my age they won’t hire this old goat.
They foreclosed on my home and my wife left the scene,
     Said I was worthless, she was real hurtful and mean.
I took to the streets the only thing I could do,
     She took everything that was left even my clothes when she said we were 
Twenty seven dollars and eighty five cents was all I had to my name.
     It’s been a little over a year and I still haven’t figured out who’s to blame.
He said you’re the first person to show that you cared and it means quite a lot.
     As a tear ran down his face he said I’m not a bad guy really I’m not.
I said I have a little cabin on the lake that needs a caretaker but the pay is not 
     Free room and board with a small monthly salary and benefits as such.
So we shook on the deal and headed on out,
     He became a blessing for me as our friendship grew solid and stout.
If I had gone out looking to pick a friend he would have been very low on my list,
     But the Lord had other plans and He always adds His own little twist.

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A Child Again

Lord, let me be a child again,
    Just far enough back where I knew no sin.
Then Lord close off all roads that lead me wrong,
    Let me feel your presence and know I belong.
The mistakes I’ve made just won’t let go, 
    That’s why I’ve turned to you don’t you know.
You’ve always been there in my times of despair,
     No matter how low I get, I know you’ll always care.
I have no strength, it is You who are strong,   
     You are my light, the words to my song.
When I am lost you are my beacon that brings me back,
     When I am weak You are the strength that I lack.
Teach me Your ways so that I might delight,
     And make You happy this very night.
Show me what I need to do,
    So that I may be a beacon that shines for you.
You give me strength when I am weak,
    You’re all I need, You’re all I seek.
You are that lost feeling inside of me,
     When You’re not there is when I feel lost you see.
It’s up to me to hold on tight,
     And claim Your love that feels so right.

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A Child Of God


Lord, would you paint me a picture of the things You’d have me to do.
  Paint it in Your likeness, with all Your strength to hold onto.
Send me on my journey but never leave my side,
  Beside the still waters and mountains tall with valleys wide.
Upon the mighty oceans and across her lovely shores,
   As we spread your word to others in search of open doors.
Giving praise to You amongst my friends it really brightens up my day.
   Standing tall and telling all is quite the Christian way.
We must reach out to spread Your word,
    Speak it soft or shout it loud at least till all have heard.
We mustn’t leave a rock or stone unturned,
    And bring to Him lost souls to save and teach them if they haven’t learned.
Tread not lightly on these words I speak,
    For lost souls is what our Father seeks.
Turn this day from your sinful ways and any unholy deed.
    His written words are there for all of us to heed.
Upon His return will you run and hide in hopes He won’t see you?
    You know yourself the things you’ve done, so tell me what will you do?
Don’t wait till it’s too late and there is no way out, 
    Surrender it all now to Jesus, then you to will know what it’s all about.
He will forgive you all your sins and wash you spotless clean,
    Born again, a child of God, this is what Christianity really means. 

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An Execution

I had an uncle that died in the electric chair,
   He deemed his punishment was just and quite fair. 
One mistake is all it takes to ruin your life,
   He might still be alive now but he used his knife.
A young man who was down on his luck, 
   Dove deep into the bottle his life had gone amuck.
He had lost his job then his wife followed suit,
   She wasn’t real understanding when it came to not having very much loot.
He tried his best to win her back,
    But she flat out told him it was money he lacked.
He pleaded and he begged but she laughed in his face,
    He’d lost all self respect he felt like he had become a total disgrace.
He turned to the drink and he even did drugs,
    Started hanging out with nothing but thugs.
Started out stealing small just to stay high,
    His family begged him to quit but he was too far gone to even try.
He tied in with the devil, he thought to be his only friend,
    Till that one night it happened as the devil lead him to his end.
He was just going to rob her till she started screaming and crying they both were 
overcome with fear
    Scared he pulled his knife to silence her this friend he’d known through the 
As he left her dying on the floor in a most awful gruesome sight,
    He ran but he couldn’t escape what he’d become or the out come of that night.
They caught him without incident and he confessed to his crime,
    He said I’m sorry for what I’ve done but that’s not good enough this time.
The jury all found him guilty of murder in the first degree,
    As the judge said Lord have mercy on your soul for I issue you the death 
As he waited his time he made peace with the Lord,
    As the day grew closer that had to have been hard.
Well it’s over and done and he paid his dues,
    But I loved that old guy and sometimes it gives me the blues.
What he did was wrong I’ll be the first to agree’
    But the side I knew the jury never got to see.