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Quatrain People Poems | Quatrain Poems About People

These Quatrain People poems are examples of Quatrain poems about People. These are the best examples of Quatrain People poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Kiss the Rain

I'm leaving now, but here is a reminder
'Twill bring to you the days we walked through rain
So when you wish to feel my hand in yours
Or stroke your dripping hair-- Then kiss the rain

Though leaving now, I wish I could be with you
So when you feel o'erwhelmed with grief or pain
And long for my caress upon your face,
The rain will touch instead-- So kiss the rain

Whenever you have tho'ts of this sad parting
And salty tears your lovely cheeks do stain
To feel the tears for you I'll surely have
Do this, and I will too-- Go kiss the rain

Whenever you are longing for my presence
And times that we went strolling down the lane
I'll whisper soft endearments on the breeze
So heed the sighing wind-- And kiss the rain

If ever you should pine to hear me speaking
The thunder might burst forth with glorious main*
While drops that fall are sure to be my tears,
To feel them wet your skin-- Just kiss the rain

* Power or Force

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Commenter's, I Thank You

Now where does this Highlander start
To thank those commenter's, present and past
So many read and absorbed
Their kindness to me always lasts

Dr.Ram and Carol Brown
My African Queen 'Miss Wilma Neel's
Michael from New York City
Whose comments I internally feel

There's Andrea, the Utah babe
And Carolyn, from Florida State
Their writing I so enjoy
For their words reverberate

John Loving is such a wonderful guy
There's Sara and Doris too
Deb Radke and Sharon Ruebel our newbies
Made welcome to our literal zoo

P.D. Skat and Constance
Barbara, Iolanda and June
Francine from lovely Nanaimo
Many thanks to all of you

To Ruben, Celene and Raul
Your past writes have helped me grow
Along with so many others
You have helped my words to flow

Blimey! I better not miss out the Brits
Sarah, Brian, Sharon and June
And Anna Marie, away down in Wales
I have read in my front room

Many dudes I also have to thank
Harry Horsman the Geordie boy
The two Roberts, Dufresne and Hinshaw
Whose writings bring so much joy

There's also the bard called Peranteau
Billy the Kidster, Cecil as well
HG, Catie Lindsey and James Goff
Who marshalls his words real swell

And lastly there's the thousands of others
This character has ran out of space
Keep the ink in you pen gently flowing
Your names to me is your face

Golly! this is turning into a story
And many told by the above writing troops
As I marvel at your writing ingredients
Keep writing for this wonderful Soup

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I Want Someone

I want someone to pamper me
To bathe me with love and care
I want someone to cherish me
To say he’ll always be there

I want someone who hears the sigh
That no one else can hear
I want someone who bears me up
When my heart trembles with fear

I want someone to adore me
And tell me I’m his guiding light
I want someone to caress me
All through the lonely night

I want someone to play with me
And cuddle me like a child
I want someone to entice me
With passion to drive me wild

I want someone to make love to me
Like I’m some goddess divine
I want someone to touch my soul
To take me to heights sublime

I want someone to nurture me
To keep me under his wing
I want someone to humor me
And give my heart songs to sing

I want someone to ravish me
Make me forget time and place
I want someone to possess me
Make me vanish without a trace

I want someone to kiss me
Like he’s tasting nectar sweet
I want someone to taste me
Like he’s savoring a treat

I want someone to adore me
Like I’m the sacred grail
I want someone to follow me
Down each and every trail

I want someone to look at me
And see what lies within
I want someone to guard me
And keep me safe from sin

I want someone to hold me
And sing a sweet lullaby
I want someone to console me
With the truth and never a lie!

I want someone who is daring
Who'll fight enemies old and new
I want someone who's divine
And that someone, my dear, is YOU!

Eileen Manassian Ghali

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You make me feel numb

I do believe in magic
I so believe in peace
I believe you know undoubtedly
Of beauties and of beasts
The human spirit can withstand
And rise above the shrine
Belittle all you want, my dear
I’ll be the dwarf in time
But I’ll evolve as I hold dear
These sentiments that haunt you
I’ll cherish every single tear
Because you’ve plagued me to
I’ll turn the other rosy cheek
Though undeserved it may be
I will forgive, but won’t forget
The promised growth inspired in me
Further more, I wish to say
Remind me that I’m still alive
Disturb the sleeping monsters 
Please provoke me to survive
You compliment this hypocrite
Attention seeking scum
And help stick out the finger
That outranks the sorest thumb

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The Lonely Poet

Paste on your passion smile
Crisp all your words
as you settle yourself 
to be self-consumed, heard
Whisper sweet nothings
which only you know
Don't stop the banter,
the words or the flow
You've reached the summit
of the loneliest point
You're king of the vacancy
best in the joint
Write all your poems
on the back of your hand
and read them at supper
of cream pie and sand
Your siblings will stand up
and whisper applause
You've felt all emotion
and ridden all stars
They bid you good-bye
for you're out of their league
and to think you just wanted
to be heard, succeed...

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Fireside Conversation

Unravel your ego
sit down for a spell
Let the cool green glass
of deception dispel
Wind all your hair 
'round the wheel and dissolve
Tell me your story
and we'll be involved
You will be captain
and I your first mate
in the skies of forgiveness
pop bubbles of hate
We'll write out our names
with invisible ink
and laugh 'till we hadn't 
a thought left to think
Sipping hot cocoa
'round fires of trust
we'll bandage depression
with cider and rust
and blow concentration
'till wishes ensue
and glisten in glass 
like reflections of you

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We, the Imperfect People...

We don't expect something from nothing 
but always keep hope lightly lit
We want what we know won't be quite good for us
and force situations which never will fit
We speak when we should hold our tongues by the throat
and let silence bounce off the air
We verbalize nothing and yet all at once
we scream that the world is unfair
We hold all the cards to our life in one hand
and grab with the other at dreams
We grow up imperfect and tragic and bent
and about to burst out at the seams
And yet in this comedy of errors
we still pin dark dignity down and demand
that we're made in the image of One who is mighty
and not a mere mortal, a man
We yearn for a taste of perfection
and search with an uncommon zeal
We reach out for moments which polish our bones
and convince us our future is real...

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Inlets and Islands

Amidst these inlets and islands
Lies a land of a patriot nation
Where clans decree their might
Together in mixed relation

From the Lowlands to the Highlands
Family names of a forgotten past
Deliver us to their present
For these surnames are here to last

Sunrises and sunsets have so greeted
Many a morn and an eve has been seen
To be born into such a nation
Through their eyes, you see just your dream

For to be born on the land of the heather
Through Glens of bracken and fern's
Birthed into one of their clans
Your first breath you have duly earned

Amidst these inlets and islands
Lies a land of a patriot nation
Where clans decree their might
Welcome to Alba, the ultimate creation

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Heaven's Grocery Store

Marching down life’s highway, my feet became very sore
I then came upon a sign that read “Heaven’s Grocery Store”
When I got closer the doors swung open wide
Next thing I knew I was standing there inside
I saw a flock of angels positioned everywhere
They handed me a basket and said, “Child shop with care.”
Everything a human required was in that grocery store
With many commodities to carry, you could always come back for more
First I acquired some Patience; Love was in that same row
Further down was Understanding, you require that everywhere you go
I grabbed a box of Wisdom and Faith, a bag or two
And obtained Charity of course but more than just a few
And then reached for Courage to help me run this wicked race
My basket was almost full but remembered some loving Grace
I then chose Salvation for it was advertised as free
I tried to collect enough of that for both you and me
Then I started to the counter to pay my grocery bill
For I thought I had everything to do the Master’s will
As I went up the aisle, I saw Prayer and proceeded put that in
For I knew when I stepped outside I was bound to encounter sin
Peace and Joy were plentiful, the last thing on that shelf
Song and Praise were hanging near so I just helped myself
Then I asked an angel, “Now how much do I owe?”
She smiled and said, “Just take them wherever you may go.”
Again I asked, “No really, how much do I owe?”
“My child,” she said, “God paid your bill a long time ago.”

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A "Highly" Debated Issue

From glaucoma to chemotherapy
Medical marijuana has its place
But you won’t find any prescribed
In the conservative Sunshine State

Chris couldn’t eat while under treatment
Watched him lose one-hundred pounds
He had no access to an appetite stimulant
His weight was 85 when laid in the ground

Hefty Jen had lived a life of kindness
Taught spiritually uplifting courses
She suffered when chemo raced through her system
Until people said, “How beautifully slim her corpse is.”

When Dad’s glaucoma grew severe
He relied only on eye drops that made him tear
His gift of sight was taken slowly
Though THC might have helped his eyes clear

And when I first wrestled with ulcerative colitis
A college friend brought me a joint, said, “Try it”
Less than an hour later I was eating without pain
But laws are clear, Florida doctors can’t prescribe it

Research has proved there are benefits
Only medical marijuana use can provide
But those who worry about drug abuse
Say those who could benefit should be denied

Each day in the headlines we read of drunk drivers
Mostly teens who seek access through friends
And if they want marijuana, they find a way to get it
But for those who abide by laws, agony never ends

If smoking pot or ingesting a tablet of THC
Can help a person who is suffering great pain
Don’t you think the time has come
To ask prohibitionists to explain

Why people who are hurting needlessly
Cannot have access to any remedy
That soothes their aches, improves their last days
Diminishing the symptoms of their tragedy

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A melody from yesteryear 
Plays softly on the wind--
A mix of myrrh and honey,
A wistful sweet and bitter blend.

Fond memories of bygone days,
Of long departed friends.
Of hollyhocks and lilacs,
A reverie that never ends.

A vision of a one-room school
Set in a woodland glade--
Of children playing joyfully
There in a spreading oak tree's shade.

A farmer toiling in his field
Behind a horse and plow.
No air conditioned tractors
As modern farmers do it now.

A rustic, weathered, country church,
A Sunday morning bright
Glows fondly now in memory,
Bathed in nostalgia's hallowed light.

A barefoot boy with fishing pole
Beside a lazy stream.
A song in perfect harmony 
Played in that golden summer dream.

Oh memories, sweet memories
Locked in my soul to stay.
Oh melody, sweet melody,
A haunting song of yesterday. 

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Too Much Nasty Poetry

I don't like nasty limericks.
I don't like vulgar words.
I'd rather write of better things, 
like maybe watching birds.

So many poets feel the need
to write such graphic things.
The art of poetry to me
is making words that sing.

It's easy to be nasty.
It takes no brain at all.
But I can't keep from wondering
where you get the gall.

My poems may not be 'genius'.
I'm sure they don't compare
to many other writer's work
but mine, I like to share.

No matter if you're ninety
or if you're only nine
you needn't feel ashamed to click
on poetry that's mine.

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Hatred is a smoldering fire
That burns beyond control.
An insidious, lethal poison
That will slowly kill the soul.

Forgiveness is the antidote 
For hatred's deadly sting.
It's a bitter pill to swallow,
But a precious, healing thing.

Hatred's part of Satan's plan,
Designed to bring us misery.
Forgiveness is a gift from God,
Sent to cleanse and set us free.

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Marigold Tongues

marigold tongues
water a flowering seed
as downy hands
mend a crushed bruised reed.

a flaxen shaft
lights a smoldering wick
as a ‘lectric beam
starts a heart’s soft tick

spines in strain
raze a barrier wall
marigold tongues
make a blade stand tall

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Princess Ballerina

Princess ballerina
Comfortably numb
Hidden from the world
Holding angels ransom
Princess ballerina
With ivory inked thighs
Legs swallowing purity
Prying pink eyes
Princess ballerina
With sin studded threats
Slicing delicacy
With pierced pirouettes 
Princess ballerina
Leering from afar
Come out of the corner
My jaded sultry star

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The Vietnam War

The pro-Hanoi Vietcong many years ago
In the 1950's Diem's government they'd overthrow
All opposition was crushed killed or jailed
These elected ones to their people they failed

This Buddhist country so religious in belief
Now politically torn apart, impending future grief
In the early 1960's with the CIA in place
Discussing with Vietnam's generals, Diem, assassinated in disgrace

With the Vietcong army, growing from strength to strength
Another communist foothold, going to any lengths
In 1965, with 3500 U.S. Marines in place
By December of that year, 200,000 in many a base

These U.S. Marines, in their defensive mode
Over the coming months, peace would soon erode
With the Tet Offensive upon us, and the "Battle of Hue"
The Americans were now involved, this bloody war now brews

One decision to end this conflict, came in 1969
Nixon sent 18 B-52s, bordering Soviet airspace line
He wanted to show he was capable, to end this bloody war
But as the months and years progressed, the body count would soar

The anti-war movement was gathering strength, also in 1969
But the "Green Beret Affair" started to undermine
A U.S. Army platoon raped and pillaged, the village of My Lai
Where civilians were massacred, and many left to die

In 1970-71, Cambodia incurred wars wrath
Where they and the country Laos, were in the U.S. bombing path
Also in 71, there was the cutting of the Ho Chi Minh trail
But arms and supplies got through, this mission to no avail

Later in the same year, the Anzac's withdrew their soldiers
The U.S. also reduced, many of theirs from Vietnam's borders
In 1973, Nixon declared the suspension of offensive action
The Paris Peace Accords took place, peace with this warring faction

Between the years 73 - 74 under Trà, the Vietcong grew in strength
There was no mass offensive, to lure the Americans to their trench
Gradually they marched to their target, to see their enemies eyes
To their city of Saigon, now over a million humans have died

The average age of the American to die in this bloody war
Was just nineteen years old, never knowing what they were fighting for
So many came home from this horror, leaving themselves behind
Because so many came home different, home with a different mind

Even to this day, many Americans look back and ask
Why their elected Congress, feed them to these tasks
The sad thing about Vietnam, it continues to this present day
Where governments make decisions, asking guns to hear their say

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A Park In My Neighbour

A regular walk to the park
My baby’s favourite landmark
Not more than half a mile away 
Where kids like to run and play

In the centre of the busy town
A place filled with giggling sound
Not only by little princes and angels
This place is liked by parents, as well, 

Rows of beautiful flowers
A big wide tree in the corner
The green grass covering the ground
Swings,slides and see-saws all around. 

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Nette Onclaud, Princess to be Queen

The Highlands, our Kingdom, our many Lochs and Glens
Our beauty woos fair maidens to be at the side of Highland men
Their futures to be part of our history, Queens to our many Clans
As we stand and salute the Saltire, by the side of their Highlander man

Such a Princess exists, in a far away land from the Scot's
To our shores we'll grace her beauty, once seen, forget me not
Onclaud, by the name Nette, shall stand by her Alba man
Upon a Ben she'll stand so proud, admiring the lands of her married Clan

She'll walk through purple heathers, thickened by natures sun
Amidst ferns and ancient bracken's by burns so crisp in run
By her side he stands this man, kilted displaying his kin
Claymore at the ready to grace his enemies skin

His Queen, their Kingdom, their Castle, resting on the shores of the River Ness
Overlooking forests and greens, salmon runs in richness finesse
When the night befalls these lands, in the Kingdom of the Lochs and Glens
It's understandable as to why they be wooed, by these historic Highlander men

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A Piece of Bread.

My mother starts moaning, with another one due.
She won't live to see, as she struggles to wheeze.
I never knew famine would produce skies so blue.
But no need for toilets, I forget how to squeeze.

Searing sun inflates skulls into baroque balloons.
One whining dog, dying , from a surfeit of fleas.
I squint as my sister beats a roach with a spoon.
She's holding out hope, with a morsel to tease.

My eyes can still water from the feces and trash,
tossed up by vultures to release fresh disease.
I dig up what moist dirt I can pound into mash.
An old man collapses, not a single one grieves.

What passes for corpses- baking black as they pop.
Now the flies feel the heat and retreat to the trees.
My brother keeps wailing and I wish he would stop.
My breathing grows shallow in the oven fed breeze.

If it helps each of you,
I am down on my knees.
I beg you.
Hand me one piece of bread.
Would you, please?

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Be careful 'bout the things you say.
Make certain how they sound;
For other people may not know,
And spread their thoughts around;

Expounding on your choice of words,
And how they saw your manner.
It's best to weigh your words, my friend,
Than pay the price of candor;

For oft when people hear some things,
They take them out of context,
And on repeating what they've heard,
They give it different syntax.

They'll weave a story from your words,
That you won't recognize,
And then just try and find someone,
To stand and sympathize;

A single friend who knows you well,
And won't believe such stories,
Is hard to find when times are hard,
And gossips compound worries;

So watch your words for they have power,
Or you'll end up in mourning,
To whom and where and what you said.
Remember well this warning.

                       Proverbs 18:6-7
                          (Living Bible)

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Average Age 19

Once again, the powers that must
In rise again in what we trust
An overseas conflict, another war
Just what in the hell are we fighting for

Families are asking, Korea has just passed
Generations again reft, how long will it last
A country in need, to rebuild again
Flags at half mast, in wind and rain strain

Once again into war, sent by the Washington Post
To send back reports to hit home the most
Military observers were the first to be sent in
Another chapter of man entering existing sin

I'm witnessing our ariel power, Lam Son 719
US planners determine their incursion, saying all will be fine
Along the Mekong River, we'll carpet bomb their supply trail
Tons of munitions and napalm, this spread surely cannot fail

Many sorties are being flown, for the wounded and the dead
Whilst Nixon and his cronies, aren't thinking with their heads
The news of losses has reached me, nineteen have been killed
Eleven missing, fifty nine wounded, more American blood spilled

Seven fixed wing aircraft, more sons in action loss
Whilst back at home more protests, fading the dyeing's gloss
To to this job that I do, I was never prepared for this
To witness such bloody scenes, and ignore that life is bliss

How can I write about a soldier, whose name I'll never know
Killed at nineteen years old, his family he'll never see grow
Or even explain to his parents, when carried from the AH-1
His body bullet riddled and limp, when lifted it bloodily run

I never went back to the theatre, called the Vietnam War
Having witnessed the wanton killing, what were we fighting for
This colonial conflict that started, us on the side of France
So many came back as strangers, many to live in trance

James Fraser's entry into the contest " WORLD OF WAR: VIETNAM "

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If You Ever Cross Me

I am never jealous, but theirs an evil in my eye
Step forward and cross me, and soon you'll wonder why
No matter where you are, it doesn't matter where you hide
For I'm the clever one, who'll find you and watch you slide

There are some things that you will never own, nor I, so read my words
For if I have to find a reason, my actions are seldom heard
These actions I speak about, are the watching of your life fade
And the squealing through your last breath, your body in dying cascade

I am never jealous, but theirs an evil in my eye
Step forward and dare to cross me, and soon you'll wonder why
The world is small enough, it takes nothing for me to try
I can only ever promise, take what is never yours, and you will rightly die

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If I say I love you,
What does it mean?
Is it just something physical,
A sexual thing?

Is it just what I feel,
When I feel my blood surge,
When you reach out and touch me,
A physical urge?

That can't be love,
It's just chemistry.
It cannot be based,
On biology.

For sure we all know,
That's the way it begins,
But if that's all there is,
Then soon it will end.

When the newness wears off,
And things become old,
Then boredom sets in,
And the lamb leaves the fold,

In search of new pastures,
And new, sweeter grass,
So listen and learn,
Be ye lad or a lass.

Love is a deep,
And emotional thing,
That grows over time,
Not just a short fling.

It's something so precious,
Something so rare,
Most find it but once,
So shop with great care.

You'll kiss many frogs,
'Fore you find a prince,
It's an old saying, yes,
But it makes lots of sense.

Don't jump at the first one,
That may come along.
They'll woo you and lose you,
With an old but sweet song.

Set your sights higher,
For it's a sure bet,
One values the most,
What is hardest to get.

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Vagrant Promises

Per chance, Madame, you will be kind 
Please, can you spare me, but a pence?
I wish to eat and, too, I thirst.
I must now pay my rent.

Per chance, dear sir, you will be kind
Please, can you spare me, but a shilling?
I promise not to drink it down
Nor, at the track, a killing.

Can someone please assist me now
For I’ve seen to have lost my way?
I promise, if you help me now
I’ll return the deeds someday.

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Fill me once more,Holy Spirit to know,
Move me ,inside,you love to show,
Quieten my heart,now to play
Without rehearsal,on life's stage each phrase to say.

Speak,speak by thought,picture,word or deed,
Then in my weakness,your strength feed:
O teach my tomgue to quiet be,
Until you prompt,and all I say,is all of thee.

This quatrain was inspired by  Abraham Cowley's (1618-67) 'Hymn to Light'

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No Value? Ha!

Her offerings, not of words themselves
But of her, her deep inflections
She gives us light and truth and love
She gives a soul direction

The words she pens, they’re more than ink
They’re a stem of her true being
For with the words, she allows us sight
Into the very core, the meaning

So, never dare to suppress her gift
Her talents shine the true light
It would do you good, to try your best
To feel, just what she writes

In reponse to "Useless" by Kristin Reynolds

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Who is Actually out There

Who is actually out there That the multitudes believe What religion is really there That they all see How many are actually out there That makes them all believe What religions are actually out there That they all see and believe How do they know they are there What have they seen that they believe All their religions they say that are out there That have never ever been seen So many scripts and fables Passed down through the times Passages from village elders Etched and changed their minds Do believers look back even further To well over two thousand years When the village elders decided To suppress, enhance their fears Do believers go back even further When the land produced their gods Volcanoes, lightning and thunder Became their staff, their rod As I return from beyond the dark On travels that you can't comprehend Others actually know where you came from If told would send you round the bend All that you believe in Was passed down through the years The elders of human history Suppressed you, to contain your fears .

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My Darling Tink's

We photographed this shoot
Against frosted glass
In the shape of hearts
That captured her class

Her long blond hair
Catches the light
Her curvaceous shape

Peachy skin
Immaculate pose
She looks
My love for her grows

White silk robe
In midriff drape
This vista, my view
I am left agape

Our shoot closes
The applause we take
As i turn to my Tink's
My darling, its you who makes

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                                            UNDERSTANDING POETRY

A poem is more,
Than rhythm and rhyme.
The words must have balance,
With tempo and time.

Free Verse is like that,
The words have a blend,
That helps it to flow,
From beginning to end;

Sometimes like honey,
From a sweet honey tree,
Sometimes like a river,
As it flows to the sea;

But there's always a message,
Or a story that's told.
The words can be sweet,
Or compelling and bold.

A poet's an artist,
Painting pictures with words,
Bringing out music,
Your ears haven't heard;

A music that comes,
From down deep in your soul.
It makes one feel free,
It makes one feel whole,

To be able to write,
Words that reach out and touch,
Something special inside you,
And bringing out much,

Of the feelings inside you,
That we often hide,
Often revealing things,
So deep inside,

Even you did not know,
Were hiding in there,
But the words shine a light,
On beliefs and on cares;

So when you read a poem,
Don't just read words on paper.
You must feel them and taste them,
For words have a flavor.

Sometimes it's bitter,
And sometimes it's sweet,
But if you taste it,
It's always a treat;

For a poet shows more,
Than the stories he's told.
When he shows you his poems,
He shows you his soul.

                                   Judy Ball

(Tread lightly and don't kill the messenger)

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From a Friend to an Angel

When you meet someone who brightens The darkest of your days Who cheers you up and turns you around Because their lovely heart displayed Their lovely heart displayed Words of warmth and kind Encouraging laughter and poetry Now written from my mind Written from my mind Are poetic pieces shared From an angel to a friend For this special one who cared This special one who cared Will remain forever in my heart We will only be thoughts away One day our tomorrows will start 'Written for a friend to a friend'

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These here are the indisputable facts
I was born on the right side of the tracks
WITH People who only smiled if their stocks or equity increased
If not they wouldn’t have minded becoming deceased

They had big cars, big bucks and big time class
With a million dollar house mortgaged up the a*s
Their children went to private schools in uniforms
With charming and well decorated dorms 

I looked at their faces and wondered why I didn’t fit
That’s when the fire in my belly was originally lit
I had no desire to play with kids from private schools
Nor did I ever agree to obey by their rules

So one day I skipped over steel and these here are the facts
The people I found lived in tents, not even shanties or shacks
But they didn’t have to read Dow Jones in order to smile
And couldn’t care less about having Gucci type style

They smiled at things people ignore like little tykes at play
And somehow or other they AWOKE contented day after day
They had no stocks to watch fretfully fall or RESOUNDINGLY rise
And you could see the easiness in their gleaming eyes

That which I observed in them appealed to me a great deal
The wrong side people taught me how satisfied I could feel
They lived out of back-packs, antique cedar chests and sacks
So if you come a’looking for me I’ll be on the wrong side of the tracks
             © 2011.…Phreepoetree   ~free cee!~

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On the Will or the Wing

We are free to suffer separation-
ships barely touching on each other's wake tonight.
We are free to sip up reconciliation-
wings of Siamese twins upon the edge of flight.

Not a one can tell us different.
Not a one can sooth or soothe
We are free in will's determination
possibilities to prove~

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This Heart of Mine

You know I hate to love you baby

You're only playin with my heart.

So many dreams you've shattered

So many lives you've torn apart.

If only I could walk away

If my heart could just forget

If the tangled web of love you've spun

Didn't pose such a threat.

Then I could love to love you baby

My heart it could take wings.

I could fall into this love affair

One that had no strings.

But in your hands, my heart a weapon

To be tortured and teased.

My dreams, the ones you've shattered

To be tossed out as you please.

You know I hate to love you baby

Because this heart of mine

Is fragile and it's tender and it's

Living on borrowed time.

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Hope Lodge

Welcome to the Lodge of Hope
A fine staff awaits your meeting
Courage and faith are introduced
As virtue upholds the greeting

Diagnosis for extended stay
Prep with knowledge of chemical war 
Reflecting on acquaintance familiar
My dear mom lodged here months before

Festive parties invite kind reception
Embrace found in song’s revelry
Catching streamers of social confetti
Entertainment eludes life’s injury

Friendship courts a thanksgiving spirit
Radiating beams that fuse plans for a cure
Wreaths of holly adorn three shiny heads
As best wishes tap dance through the door

Restoration served with affection
When a New Year kneels to the floor
Covered with timeless impressions
Left to foster the guests before

Aid through local perspective
Proves beneficial still
As traumatic events integrate
Preserving courage and goodwill

Carry homeward inspiration
Gently wrap and lace with rope
A memento of reflections
Presented in the Lodge of Hope

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The Inner Workings

Can it truly be said that a man is mere logic
when I see your emotion as if it hung in the air?
Can it truly be said that a woman's mere feelings
when my brain is like clockwork in logic to bare?
Leaning tos, that is another discussion
for I will admit that I lean toward the tears
and maybe you too would admit just for reference
that you have the mechanics of a man of your years
But don't you think too, that a blending occurs
right at the moment two soul mates connect
and each leans in toward the other's attraction
they otherwise fell, in their days, to neglect?
Perhaps that is why your eyes well up quite rightly
when you see that my heart has been scorched by design
And maybe that's why I hold common sense tightly
and wrap it in gauze to be precious in kind
We are just truly conjoined puzzle pieces
with traits to be honored as sweet compliments
Whether it's logic or sheer, raw emotion
we balance each other in complete confidence.

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Painful Reminder

If reading this disturbs you
you're not the only one.
You are probably being reminded
of something you have done.

I am your painful reminder
that no one will forget.
I will always speak my mind.
I am not finished yet.

The pain you feel is nothing
compared to what you've done.
Don't worry, I know you're reading this
(and you're not the only one.)

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Cover Girl

In your photograph, I see your face,
As does the entire world.
Do they see what lies beyond,
Inside, that little girl?
As I look into your eyes
I sense you dream, you hope.
I pray each time I gaze at them
For days that you can cope.
In your smile, I see reality
Has contributed to your view.
Two dimensional image we see,
But never, the real you.
There’s more to you than meets the eye,
the readers should all know.
But, they will only ever see
That which you will only show.
I looked upon your photo today
And saw the beauty in you.
If others ever dare to see,
Then they will love you, too.

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Kindness from Another

The wind swept fate upon her door 
As the ship broke against the rocks
Her house, just off the beach’s crest
Overlooked the sea and its docks

With a sound of thunder, his fate met
As stone broke through the ship’s wood
Sheer devastation, his crew all lost
He swam as best as he ever could

Reaching the shore, looking to the sea
Breathing deeply, cursing its demise
The captain felt he could have done more
As it sunk to the bottom before his eyes

She peering from a dimly lit room
Felt sorrow for those who suffered this eve
Could see on his face, from a distance, even
That the man on the shore started to grieve

She went to him, with brandy and blanket
Offering solace, maybe some hope on this night
He just watched, he stood and stared
As she wandered closer, as a beacon of light

He turned from the wreckage, cast on the shore
To see then a face, so soft with concern
He felt generosity and again he felt hope
As she, with a smile, relieved raging burn

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The Comedian

Filled up with quips like a clanking balloon
blown up with coins not with air
Clittering, clatter on golden paved streets
his winsome words, plenty to share
Brilliant performance, he's taking his bow
on a bed of burnt peacock feathers
The skycap he wears filled with holes and with tears
has protected him well from the weather
The crowd gangly gathers with popcorn and fruit
with the wish and the will just to laugh
He juggles emotions with unending devotion
and doubles his jokes up by half
By the end of the night the whole room is alight
with marshmallow bellies still shaking
From the butt of all jokes to a friend of all folks
he's a super star right in the making...

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Poetic Inspirings

Consider me a poet, please
An artist of a craft
I’ll make you cry, I’ll drive you wild
I’ll even make you laugh

I hope you like my musings
For as often as I write
My purest of intentions
Is to give you all delight

From where the inspiration 
Secret places known
But I’ll share everything my friends
So together, talents hone

And when I lay to slumber
I’ll dream with all of you
Of the heavenly inspirations
That we wish could all come true

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You women
Know how to make 
The best of what you've got in you
You do it everyday in your life

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Mystic Tinklings

                   Mystic Tinklings

Mystic tinklings
	Ancient echoes from the past
Fleeting inklings
	Glimmer just beyond your grasp

Phantom footfalls
	When you know that you’re alone
Echoed choircalls
	Of a long forgotten song

Shadows slipway
	From the corners of your eye
Darkened hallways
	Hints of time passed by

Brief reflections
	Of things you did not see
Vast collections
	Of the things that used to be

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The dusk of chivalry

The age of chivalry has passed,
but chivalry lives on in men
whose honor and instinct
survive in the face of ridicule and revolution,

in spite of political propaganda
distributed by androgynous drones
as the infallible truth of a progressive world
with no place left for gentlemen.

A world where mutilated values are
paraded before our sons
and sung as mantras of the day
by fickle knights in tin-foil armor

flaunting capricious deeds and
shedding integrity in pursuit of
fifteen minutes of infamy
and a glamorous trophy wife.

Most have little hope
as they inherit a legacy
of squandered dignity
with no clue how to reclaim it.

But hope lives on in a few
uncommon men of quiet strength
lying dormant in anonymous lives
until a new revolution calls them out

to exemplify what men should be,
bringing back the valiant love of a woman,
with decency and chivalry,
for the good and honor of all.

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You have led me     beside the azure seas
to see the crimson coral     of the fallen leaves
so like the rainbows      that exist within our kin
the colors that lay      upon our souls within
There drifts our souls       in  the shades and hue
where we slip the streams       of the colors blue
or light their soul      in softest shades of yellow
when in company as       delighted companions fellow
Or quietly lay in shells      still and tinged of pale grey
like the clouds that hang         within the low of day
or to climb the hills      the foliage with its glistening sheen
are painted trees and meadows      in the depths of green
Here in life the blooms         that every spectrum see
and offered us its view      the veneer of  eternity
and not so transparent          the crystals of our glass
and our lives the shadows           of pigments cast
The cosmetic gloss         that we can wear like makeup
that dyes the actions     which our souls we take up
some like varnish     are just cover for what is dull
like the iron and the steel     that contains our hull
But the tints     that wash and stain our soil
can be the colors    swirling within the gleams of oil
where they run together    as the eddy's in the water
there each soul its    colors is contained a single star   

COPYRIGHT © 2013 C Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC

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The Outsider

They think I’m stupid, but they’d be surprised
I see the revulsion in their eyes
And the way their heads lean together,
To talk about me as I walk by.

Do they think I don’t see looks of horror
On faces, as they get to their feet?
When I approach their coffee table, 
To sit down on the vacant seat

Don’t they know I’m aware that they’re shouting
When they talk to me, as if I can’t hear?
But then tell their child not to speak to me
 I’m a monster, and someone to fear

They view me, through eyes of loathing
As a soul of no value or worth
Who contributes nought to society
Undeserving a place on their earth

I just wish that, before passing judgment
They’d get to know me or give me a chance
To show them the ‘someone’ hidden inside 
And maybe break through their ignorance

So they’ll look upon me as those they think ‘normal’
And not treat me differently
For I am a person, with feelings, like them
But for my learning difficulty!

This poem is  about the service users I work with and how they feel the world views them 
and is a crime against humanity

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Sherlock Holmes and Watson

Sherlock Holmes and Watson made
A duo fighting crime
The wise detective and his friend
The greatest in their time!

It all began with 'Gloria Scott'
When old man Trevor died
Sherlock then, to help his friend
His hobby theories tried

Whether Naval Treaties lost
Or strange Red-headed League
Holmes and trusty Watson solved
Conundrums and intrigue

Whether 'twas the Second Stain
Or swan at Abbey Grange
Those dearest fellows smoked their pipes
On matters grave and strange

If Watson never understood
'Till matters did conclude
It sometimes seems 'twas Holmes's fault
That things were misconstrued

Then there came the felons' dread
The sudden shout, "Halloa!"
And Watson, sometimes young Lestrade
Would run to see below

I think, perhaps, that Watson's mind
Was sharper yet than ours
For putting up with Holmes's quirks
Could be like counting stars

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Grandpa's Farm

Several times we took the kids To vacation on Grandpa’s farm Many a time they’d be walking around With kittens they found in the barn Grandpa arranged for a pony to ride Or to pull them around in a shay Riding a horse was just so much fun They took turns and did it each day I watched my youngest, as she took a ride The horse bucked and she hit the ground Just mad as can be, she got back on Kicked the horse, then road all around When the cousins came to Grandpa’s farm The barn was a great place to play They always seemed to have such fun Just playing around in the hey My kids took three ducks back home Those Muscovy’s really did grow We had to let them loose at a pond So big that they just had to go Just this last year, these kids of mine Who now have kids of their own Returned once more to Grandpa’ farm It’s different when you’re all grown Now they get to see their own kids play Doing the same things they used to do Nothing has changed, for kids it’s the same Your kids love the farm just like you

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Christmas Time's Around the Bend

The time has come to string the lights and decorate the tree, Fix-up the barn an' house a mite for all the folks to see, Cause Christmas time's around the bend, an' Santa's underway A-makin' toys for girls an' boys, an' gifts to fill his sleigh. The widder Jones, from down the road, her cook-stove's bellerin' smoke, She makes tamales ever year for passin' city-folk. But through the year she cusses 'em for just a-passin' by, An' raisin’ dust she’s gotta to sweep when that ol' road is dry. The school put on their annual play and that turned into fun. They cast my nephew as the babe; he played the Holy Son! The Wise Men never had a chance. They got a real surprise, When baby Jesus tossed his milk an' caught one in the eyes. But ever year I'm still amazed by changes folks can make, Like Mister Groves, a stubborn coot I'd often like to shake. He turns a leaf at Christmas time, an' acts just like a saint, He'll drive to town an' do for folks that's crippled, sick an' cain't. On Christmas Day, the kids in town get stockings filled with loot. For some it's still a mystery but it's that "stubborn coot". I saw him late one Christmas Eve a-tendin' to the chore; For ever kid, in ever house, he left one at the door. It never snows on Christmas Day, it's mostly never missed. No sleighs to ride or sleds to slide, the things could fill a list, But there's no other place on Earth at any time of year That holds a light to what we have, the people livin' here. We've shared our lives an' memories, each dream, desire an' plan. We've touched each other ever way that God designed for man. With all their strengths and weaknesses, we love 'em still the same When Christmas time's around the bend, an' times that have no name.

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Living this life inside out
listening to everyone
scream and shout.

To much noise for my soul
is there not a quiet place
for me to go.

I love silence and it's sanity
to much animosity in society
I can live without it entirely.

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Lifting Me Up

My heart is on Your shoulders,
And You are lifting me up.
With every spoken tender gesture,
I fall a little farther in love.

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Don't be alarmed by me
I've always been a hugger
In touch with my emotions
No one calls me slugger

In fact I have been known
To wear my heart on my sleeve
It really is dangerous
More than you might believe

If not for the hugging
It would have turned to ice
Instead it's toasty warm
All this hugging is so nice

If you come to see me
I'll greet you like a bear
I'll hug you really close
You'll see how much I care

Even more than giving
They are great to receive
Remember to hug a friend
It will make their heart believe

To hug is to be human
It brings joy to our face
We can release sorrow
By sharing an embrace

Something that is so simple
Can make our life worthwhile
The more of them I'm given
The larger that I will smile

My goal is to be happy
Reach out and give me a hug
From there access my heart stings
If you wish give them a tug

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Fancy Dudes

The work was hard out on the ranch, the days were hot an' dry,
An' fancy things you find in town had caught ol' Jim Bob's eye.
When evenin' came he'd sit the fence an' crave to see the sights,
To drive big cars to all the bars an' toast the city nights.

He had a gal he courted some, her name was Betty Lou.
She'd lived a spell in Angelo, had been to Lubbock, too.
Her face was fine, with freckled cheeks, her hair was done in style;
An' all her clothes had fancy brands that musta cost a pile.

Now, Betty Lou had set her sights to put her brand on Jim,
But he had things he had to do an' marriage weren't for him.
The world was callin'-out his name, he had some things to learn,
Some places that he had to see, 'some candles left to burn'.

Well, came a time, an' like you thought, he wandered off the range,
But ended up in Boston-town; now boys, that was a change.
He found a bar that looked real clean an' sauntered in the door;
He'as proud to be of Texas stock an' sallied to the fore.

A fancy feller slithered-up an' asked Jim to his place,
But when he put his hand on Jim's, he punched him in the face.
I guess that feller didn't know for what ol' Jim was known,
An' bein' green to city life, he'as best just left alone.

Right after Jim had took his shot that dude got mighty riled;
He punched Jim once an' kicked him twice, an' left him right defiled.
Jim left his mark, I guess you'd say, that feller's bloody clothes;
Cause when that feller swung his fist, Jim hit it with his nose!.

He'd never seen them fancy dudes, who act like girls an' such;
From what he knew, which wadn't squat, he didn't like 'em much.
He heard they'as sissies, frail an' weak, sashayin' as they walked.
They gossiped like some women-folk, an' giggled when they talked.

Well, when it all was said an' done, he helped Jim to his feet,
An' dusted off his shirt a mite, then smiled at him real sweet.
He told Jim 'bout a couple things he liked to do with males;
Now, one was such I won't repeat, but one was kickin' tails.

Well, boys I guess there's lessons here: be careful where you roam;
Don't wander off to Boston-town, if Texas is your home;
But if you do, stear clear of bars, an' this I would include;
Don't ever underestimate an' rile a fancy dude.

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Riddled face, weary under clouds quite late, night of hope screeches of decent meal to eat. A boy cups his hands again, a hunched fate plucking tin can on lanes primed for the elite. Cold the body wrapped like soiled paper bag approaching cars and men with dollar points, and bypassed like a nameless stamp, a rag while he coughs for some gentle plea: coins, coins. Then, the waif rushed to me near the helm claiming a folder got pinned on my backseat door, with pure kindness in his eyes; I felt ashamed casting doubt on his intent, my breath appalled. “Thank you”, let’s talk a while was my invite as we dined, the stench of poverty I dismissed. Gazing at a warm face that spoke of grim plight, he longed of math and arts , important on his list. This boy, stirring me back to values of kindness, received a free education in lower grade school. The folder he saw, a prize I won as bonus reclaimed my sense of charity, my inner jewel. Thank You Contest: Patricia Ellis

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Fallen Victim

I have fallen victim so many times
To nobody's fault except only mine.
I will ask for forgiveness and have faith,
Even though I feel like I am not saved.

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Words Spoken

So many words that have no meaning, spoken in our society.
So many people not understanding, what they even speak.
Why should they use God's name in vain, does it make them big inside?
Why should they use four letter words, just what are they trying to hide?

I find it so in T.V. and books, and even on the common street.
What is it that makes our society one of evil and conceit?
What can we do but pray, to change it back to God above?
So on my knees, I lift my voice to Him, for the Country that I love.

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A Fight for the Green

There passed amid the crowded fair a lady
All clad in stately gown of em'rald green
With golden trim and diamonds all a-sparkle
It was, I say in truth, a comely scene

Her hair was walnut brown and deftly braided
Her eyes the bluest June I e'er ha' seen
Her face was white as ever summer daisy
As she walked amid the fair in em'rald green

I wended to the lady through the milling
And sought if I might carry of her gage
She chained me with ther fiery diamond necklace
And sought a worthy foe upon the stage

Her eyes passed o'er the sport with sharp disdaining
Said she, These roughened fellows all are mean
I seek a fitted match against my diamonds
To win a crown of honour for the green

At length, she spied the master of the quarter
The stoutest wight of Herefordshire, I ween
And though I had no hope against this venture
I'd do it for the woman clad in green

His quarterstaff was sure and fairly whistled
His arms were strong, as well his eyes were keen
Yet still I kept my feet upon the platform
And prayed them still remain for fair Athene

This lusty fight went on for half the hour
A goodly crowd collected for the see'n'
Then stepped the pretty damsel to the staff-ring
And saith, You fairly won the lass in green

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Choices To Face

I have some choices to face,
But these are not my decisions to make.
God told me what He wants me to do;
He said, "Listen, Son, I have a plan for you."

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Elemental Alignment

It's the essence of what we're made of.
It's right beneath us as we walk.
It's what the Creator used from up above---
to make "the walking colours that talk".

The essence of movement that kisses your face.
It can push the sea and move the trees.
Sweat on a hot day can be erased.
Breeze that's felt with grace and ease.

The burning flames put out heat.
The colours are brilliant and bright.
It's used outside when you need something to eat.
It also brings dark things to light.

It's the only thing that can quench your thirst.
It's the one thing that connects all life.
If you don't receive this you might just burst.
A lack of this clear liquid can even create strife.

We need all these elements to make the world go round.
They are the essence of creation and what makes the world sound.

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Enjoy This Place

Follow your dreams and follow your heart;
God has shown you the path to start.
Never give up and always have faith;
Do what you love and enjoy this place!

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Delicate Flame of Desire

My heart of stone, your love has broken
For many years it has been spent and set
It beats again with a voice now spoken
For it desires the day, to you I jet

My time stands still, never again
This chance anew to relive my life
No longer cast in discarded reft
In saddened state, shredded strife

After the rain, my life's like the sun
Ray after day like the beats in my heart
My love, my love, I'm one breath away
Soon to be with you, my future's to start

Never to look back at her strange behaviour
I'm out of reach we are no longer in rhyme
Your Spanish eyes have captured my heart
Years of despair now's the right time 

I view my love, through my eyes I do see
My delicate flame of desire, awaiting I
Her radiant smile at the airport, we greet
Behind me ashen greys, above now blue sky

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Hats Off To You {Vignette}

heart flutters bearing the news
appointed poet laureate
bows comrades honoring name
gift gabble raising thy brows
expectations of nil
inspirations for others

Tribute To Poetry

And To All The Wonderful Poets
Here In The Soup Bowl
I Bow To Each

Also Entry For
Brian Strand's 
Poet Laureate Contest
GL All

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dreams or illusions of living in peace and harmony
In thinking about life's problems I didn't come undone
images still float in the wind, music of the Harmonie
The magical dream of people on earth living as one

An adolescent desire of a world with a lasting peace
let us justify a bad decision to stop sowing seeds
or are we nomadic people, living like a flock of geese
Life is following the one in front, unsure of where it leads

with ideas, seeds are sown, establishing a path to peace
Can we transcend innovations, to stop following the flocks
to learn people exchanging views possibilities will increase
listening to people and stop throwing metaphoric rocks

"Yesterday, trouble was distant  life a game to be played"
Our people may be gone, but our past lets us be unafraid
My angel seems far away, but memories will never fade
all dreamers, vying in the game of life will never be swayed

I still believe and long for yesterday

for Beatlemania! contest
of Heather Ober

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 With tyranny appreciated and coercion praised
The noble and gentle are bewildered and dazed

Today the world is simply disenchanted
     Tomorrow there will be many fingers raised

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I went to war in Vietnam which wasn't my idea
the army never asked for my advice
I slogged on through the jungles there and watched some soldiers die
out country where the farmers grow their rice

The months went by like in a horrid dream of blood and death
and nothing I could say made any change
one mission here. one mission there just made no sense to me
but there was no way it would rearrange

We came to do our duty and to save South Vietnam
from communist incursions from the north
The tunnel rats went into where no one should ever go
And daily, squads were sweeping back and forth

The enemy was everywhere so telling friend from foe
was just about the hardest thing to do
then just about the time you may have thought you had it pegged
some little "friend" would make a fool of you

I finally got home last month, free from an ugly war
but landing at the airport gave me pause
a woman with a little kid called me a nasty name
and spit at me without a hint of cause

This war I did not advocate and never wished to go
I never had a choice in going there
I only wish the people at my home would understand
and put the blame on those who sent us there

I simply cannot understand the hatred aimed at me
for doing what I really thought was right
it seems that people aught to see the reasons why we go
and know that it's our duty makes us fight

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Ditto-Heads Are Overfed

Some people think I'm crazy 
But I'm not an empty suit, 
Though sometimes I sound hazy 
When I take that extra toot. 

I don't mind if people find 
My long lost indiscretions. 
Errors past are cast from mind 
Along with all confessions. 

Priest and pastor vanities 
Indecently abundant 
Do reflect debaucheries 
Perversely now redundant. 

My politics are changing 
As the years are rolling on 
But I am not arranging 
To become a Limbaugh pawn. 

Ditto-heads are overfed 
Dumb people who must flatter 
Oxycontin Limbaugh led 
Mysogynistic chatter. 

Blubber-belly Huckabee 
Is just a perfect gomer 
Add to that hypocrisy 
You have a fat misnomer. 

Sara Palin made some hay 
While daughter made a baby 
Sara says "No sex, no way" 
But daughter said "Well, maybe." 

The daughter did cohabit 
Under mother's halo glow 
But randy as a rabbit 
Her young lust just had to grow. 

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Haunted by your memory,
You're in my thoughts and dreams,
They say you never forget your first,
There's truth to that it seems

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‘ ‘’’’’’’’’’ ‘ ‘ Weighing scale breaks for a gal too plump Nibbling chocolates instead of carrot sticks, “I want to be a model, why is life such a dump?” So off to the gym she heads for a quick fix, fix! Her waist still a round 31- inches after months Of high fatty food she can’t scratch on her note, Auditions call, she’s craving to fit into slim pants With more Easter honey making her bloat, bloat She meets a retired, old magician who can nail it At last, curved figure she’ll have without big tummy, Swoosh! He pulls her from wrapped cage like a rabbit And swirls, turning poor gal into a fake Playboy bunny! © For Carol Brown’s Bunny Rabbit by nette onclaud

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I don't want to spread bad news,
So I can't say who told me,
But So And So was seen down town,
In most unsavory comp'ny.

It seems a shame that she can't see,
Her actions tell her story,
But you know me, I don't tote tales,
I just can't help but worry.

You should have seen her carry on,
Or so I'm told of course;
I can't say for sure myself,
And can't reveal my source;

For that might cause them untold shame,
And throw bad light on me.
I wouldn't want the town to think,
That I'd drum up such folly;

But mark my word, sure as I'm born,
That girl will rue the day,
That she set out and marked her course,
Along the wayward way;

But I don't like to carry tales,
So see this goes no further.
Just pray for her and ask The Lord,
To bless her poor, dear mother.

                                                    Proverbs 26:22

(Did you know that learning to speak in two or more languages is not nearly as hard as learning to keep your mouth shut in one?)

For Conversation contest by Frank H.

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Lord, I do not know what to do;
Please, lead me by Your side.
Decisions I'm facing are lost and through;
Please, lead me to do what's right.

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They say that time heals all
Yet there never seems enough
To say the words, to give your love
A mother always dies too soon

You try to make it linger
As her age increases yearly
You pray that God will spare her
Because you love her dearly

But when the days get tedious
She’s sick, alone and weary
You pray that God may take her
Because you love her dearly

Mother, we will miss you,
Your love, your care and support
You have given us your all
And triumphantly defied life’s challenges

You were so busy caring for others 
That you forgot about yourself
In honour and in gratefulness, we say
Sweet mother, dearest oma*, may you rest in peace

Rest peacefully now your time has come 
May angels guide your way
The time has come...yet 'tis oh so hard
To see you on your way

*Oma is dutch for Grandmother

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How does on measure the worth of a man?
How does one try to surmise it?
Can a man be appraised like a parcel of land?
There are so many things that comprise it;

For the gem of his soul has such faceted cut,
That we're hard put to judge by set standard.
It depends from which angle you're viewing the gem,
How it's depth and it's beauty are rendered;

So how can we measure the worth of a man,
When we can't see all sides of the jewel?
Do we measure the body, the spirit, the soul,
A man is not single, he's plural;

So to even attempt to judge part of a man,
Without giving thought to the others,
Is like trying to sing just part of a song,
It's left lacking as you will discover;

So leave the appraising to He who is worthy,
To judge on the part or the whole;
For once He's refined him the whole man is worthy,
And he comes forth shining as gold.

                         Job 23:10

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Amidst their Wilderness of Blue

I remember the day as I stood on the pier
From beyond the point the trawler drew near
Weeks away amidst their wilderness of blue
A crew so brave in their quest to do

Berthing was simple as they had done so before
As I await in anticipation where the fish are stored
Basket after basket, many species graced with ice
Their quota now declared as they await the best price

Smiling faces now radiate all around
So successful from their new found fishing grounds
To their local they celebrate their catch
Back home safely in family attach

On this day as I stand on the pier
Beyond the point no trawler draws near
Weeks away amidst their wilderness of blue
A crew so brave, back on land worries grew

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A mime in time

Phantom faces rush past,
each towards their own destination.
How many souls in success last?
How many need show their appreciation?

Lives full of heartbreak, empty smiles and fake appearance.
Few have known the desired joy of the self-worth achievement creates.
One seeks contentment in talents,
yet crossing borders is the fear of many fates.

Those who find a talent, 
often stop searching.
Those who never do, lament,
their regret always lurking.

Wasted years, pursuing Vision’s allure:
Stressing, enslaved to a race against time
in a world where there is no place for failure,
yet we fail ourselves, the mirror reflecting not a person, but a mime.

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Time does simply fly passing clouds on it's way Dark or fluffy white below them life has say Even the likes of I, who I met, where I went Sporadic, or for a reason, I to there was sent It's where I went that matters, and who I went to meet For me it was a she of beauty, I'm swept from my feet She, this dark haired wonderment, I soon to greet Four days beside my side, gracing ones cities streets These days of happening past, two years on passing clouds If I were to show my heart, inside this Scotsman proud For in it time can't change, or ever to tear it apart If I had to go back to our together again, I'd joyously restart <*>

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She walked and talked in a world called theirs
Worries she had with her earthly cares
Found near Hadar, this specimen of old
A lady from our past, lying stone cold

She walked her lands amidst horses so small
In the Awash Valley where trees were so tall
Naked to bare, all her kin were the same
In a land so different, to she not strange

What would she be seeing if we could see through her eyes
Would there be hate and hurt and a typical despise
Maternal and loving we can only assume
In the valley where she lived, we have the same front room

And just as we, she was born to die
Evolutionary in exist, below the same blue skies
She walked and talked in a world called theirs
Worries she had with her different cares

This lady I talk of, Lucy we have named
From our past she existed, with a different fame
She was the oldest of us ever found
Lying stone cold on earths ancient ground

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Heart filled with happiness, eyes much merry; cheeks color strawberry,
just running through fields of ripe huckleberry,
keeping away from the buzzing, restless bees...
going to a from their sweet hives hanging from massive apple trees.

More than childhood memories, such are these...
a reflection of youth that removes them from nostalgia; husky peasants
shaking off the husks from the golden corn;
a tasty, hot corn meal for those winter's dinners drooling on my tongue.

And approaching a torrent, I threw pebbles found on its almost barren banks
back into the spattering water that I drank sporadically until I was full,
to indulge in its freshness...squashing tiny daisies
that seemed too afraid to squabble with a giant and fight for their survival.  

The southern landscape with its mild climate, was rich and fragrant,
inviting hands to pluck the delicious, tempting fruits
off their branches, scattering the thrushes engaged in musical tones;
and I tongue-tied hurried along cogitating an instant.  

Would it be too childish to ask for a come-back,
to relive the cheerfulness of the oldest days, ceased by time and age;
to observe a reflection of youth take shape...
and embed, in a secret, a conversation regardless  of present knowledge? 

Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci

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No Words

Long ago, near a quiet lake lived The People
Living as one with Mother Earth and Father Sun
One day there came to them, a beautiful boy
Straight and strong, but of words he had none

With The People he grew to glorious manhood
But still he had no way to speak of his heart
So with love and patience Grandfather made a flute
And then No Words and his flute were never apart

You could find him in the first morning rays
Or in the quiet evening's soft comforting shade
Speaking to The People and to the spirit world
With the music his grandfather's flute had made

It's haunting notes spoke of the beauty around
Of the life lived and loved by the water blue
Rising up to fly with the wind and the clouds
The music of a No Words man of the Sioux

Barbara Gorelick..for the " Tell His Story" contest
Hosted by Constance, the Rambling Poet

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Many people own what they refer to as a “cash cow”
A farm animal who produces milk to drink and make cheese
Well I am like an aged farmer praying for his last field to plow
And all I have is a cow who consumes cash if you please

Many people eat food that rots them from the inside out
I, however, use substances that rot me from the outside in
With certainty I am doomed by daily diatribes of doubt
The result of my walking side by side with sordidness and sin

Many people reap rewards from being reverent, religious and good
I, on the other hand, am plundered by impiousness and a lack of pity
It’s always been my plan to take advantage of those whom I could
And using fools who are foolish enough to find me oh so very witty

In actuality I’d decline a “a cash cow” for a small semblance of peace
The kind of peace I find only in devastating substances which sustain me
My sordidness is self-evidenced by sins that seldom if ever cease
And even foolish fools finally find the intelligence to disdain me
      © 2012  copyright PHREEPOETREE…..~free cee!~

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Mysterious Rescuer - Dr Who -

The morning was bright and the air felt right
On that beautiful Christmas day,
But a terrible scare for the people there
Was soon to be on its way.

For up in the skies and hidden from eyes
Was a fleet of alien ships,
That had come from space or some other place
On safari or some sort of trip.

Their vessels came down to land on the ground
And were promptly attacked (but unharmed)
The attack was returned, people got burned,
And the humans were further alarmed.

The aliens invaded and easily evaded
The humans' primitive defenses;
Humans all fought this new war that wrought,
But their new foes were terribly relentless.

People died (most got fried)
And hope was all but lost,
‘Til what should appear out of thin air
But a dark blue Police Box.

A man stepped out, (he was thin, not stout)
He was cocky and cheerful, too;
He had made up a plan to rescue Man
From the mess they had gotten into.

He took his box for a ride (it was bigger inside)
And fooled the aliens with some tricks;
He watched them go, and he put on a show
If only for laughs and kicks.

He landed his craft as the humans laughed;
They asked who he was and what he knew.
He said "Doctor," here, and then disappeared.
The people said, "Doctor Who?"

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Falling of the Edge of the World

I travelled into my thoughts
To somewhere I've never been
The horrors that awaited me
Took me to our human extreme

I cried when I looked through
The windows of our past
And marvelled at what she gave us
I was left in total aghast

In the year two thousand and six
Seven hundred and eighty four
That graced the lands we borrow
Were shown the extinction door

The Tasmanian Devil never nasty
To the Wolves that roamed Alba's land
The Dodo so strange a bird
Were in natures future plans

Twenty eleven now awaits us
Whilst us humans continually strive
Nine hundred and five is now the total
That will never be found alive

Us humans, before we go to sleep
Their falling of the edge of the world
But hey! we'll never change
We're ignorant, and incredibly absurd

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It's like a weight lifted off of my heart;
I am no longer torn apart.
Thank God you are safe;
Everything is okay.

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Not All Knowledge Is Power

Is't sweeter to find an expected dagger
Than an unexpected daffodil?
To be right and find your apple pie stolen
Than find one left for you upon the sill?
If knowledge grants a sovereign power
Its symbol must be yin and yang
For on a peg of hopeless hopes
Is not where our happiness should hang
The farmer who plants a rotten seed
Must reap a venom crop
Some men who live on lesser grains and envy greens
Can find it difficult to stop
Is one's one-day rest too restive
Or one's six-day sweat too sweat
That a surprise sun-kissed baptismal rain
Should not inspire a gladder beat?
Look to the inkdrop atomic ant
No insurance against acts of man
But he lives, loves, and toils in every step
Do you not think we can?

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Certain things are just not said,
When we're in certain comp'ny.
Words and phrases seldom heard,
Are often looked at funny.

No longer is good common sense,
The rule of thumb, the norm,
So often plainly spoken words,
Will take on different form;

'Cause most folks just don't listen,
To what is being said,
And oft the words go rattling 'round.
Inside an empty head;

Then they draw their own conclusions,
Concerning what you said,
Even though they've not a clue,
The story they will spread.

If what you hear sounds strange to you,
The facts a little off,
Consider who you're talking to,
Before you laugh and scoff,

At someone you may barely know,
If in fact at all,
And what you heard is hearsay,
Just gossip all in all.

When others speak, just listen,
And make sure you understand.
Keep your mind upon the topic,
Don't short change your fellow man.

Remember to speak plainly,
Not to be misunderstood,
And remember too that gossip,
Don't do anybody good.

(Have you ever noticed that those who talk the most are usually the ones who have little else to do?  And often they really don't know much more than we do. My grandmother used to say the dog on the shortest chain does the most barking.)

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We are ALL a little CRAZY

You say I'm a little crazy
And I heartily agree….
But this you must be sure of
Crazy's not confined to me!

We are ALL a little crazy
In all minds, a monster or two
A little bit of insanity
Grows and thrives inside of YOU!

The fears that lurk in the shadows
The voiceless terrors of day
The psychosis that lingers
That whispers, "You're not OK!"

Yes, I'm a little crazy
My mind’s lost in the abyss
I'm sure that I’ve seen you there
In that crazy land of bliss!

Yes, I need a happy pill
To get me through my day
At least I know my "crazy"
Is being kept at bay!

Yes, I'm a little crazy
I have a troubled mind
But don't you dare go and tell me
That I'm just one of a kind!

I know that you have issues
For you're human; are you not?
So don't pretend you're "normal"!
At times, YOU have lost the plot.

Yes, I'm a little crazy
Just look at me and sneer
But me thinks your brand of "crazy"
Is the one to really fear!!!!!

Eileen Manassian Ghali

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Superstitions for the Feeble-Minded

Don’t say that, you better knock on wood
It’s bad to spread misfortune aloud, in front of others
Don’t you know any better? Karma and jinxing are real
Hey! And get off that crack, you’ll break your mama’s back

It’s not so bad to spread misfortune aloud, in front of others
For those who did wrong doing to me and my loved ones
Hey! I’m glad to see you’re standing on that crack.
By the way send your dear mother my sincerest regards

And for those who did wrong doing to me and my loved ones
You should lasso the words escaping your mouth
Send your dear mother my sincerest regards
Just tell her I said it must blow having a child like you

You should hog tie those words before they escape your mouth
Sticks and stones could break bones, words, well they just sting
It must blow for your mom having such a shitty child, sting!
Sorry for the news flash but nobody likes you

Sticks and stones will break your bones, words just tingle
Oh you didn’t know any better?  Karma and Jinxing are real
News flash! The world is better off without the likes of you
That’s why you shouldn’t say that, did you knock on wood yet?

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St Patricks Day

The poor lad was sixteen when they kidnapped him
They took him from England to Ireland but the boy did not sin.
His father was a Deacon and his grandfather was a Priest
Who would have thought this would have started
The St Patrick’s Day’s once yearly feast.

A feast back in tradition that was of bacon and beans
Not only has that changed, but the colour has from blue to green
Patrick did escape his capture; he said God told him he must.
He returned to England where he took his confessor into his trust.

He studied to be a priest and then set back off to Ireland
He was a clever man; he taught and held up in his hand…
A piece of shamrock, to us the three leafed clover
A teaching for the trinity and he won lots of them over.

Upon his death on Patrick’s day the feasting and drinking does begin
The wearing of the green and there is a little bit of sin
The pubs were closed at one time, to stop the Irish fun
But now it has spread worldwide so Happy St Patrick’s everyone.

 © 06/02/2013
Contest entry for: An Irish Poem

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No one knows the hour of Christ’s return.
And when he comes to earth what will He find?
A place where man and creatures co-exist
Or places where the greed of man confines?

Has man replenished Earth as God commands?
Using what he needs, taking nothing more?
Or has he ravaged resources and lands?
Will Jesus see a sight He shall abhor?

Many folks have forgotten God above.
They treat the gifts from Him with no respect.
Forgetting that He created us with love.
To often folks forget they must protect.

Remember to recycle replenish and reuse.
Plant another tree where one has fallen down.
Go green; mulch veggie wastes with yard refuse.
Before too long rich dirt will there be found.

Hugekultur methods restore and save, too.
Growing plants stay moist with hands-off!
Thus leaving time and money just for you.
Conserve water, too by turning faucets off.

Each one of us with awareness can take part.
Why not begin by reusing cloth bags at shops?
Look around to see where you can start.
Prepare the earth to shine without teardrops.

I will do my best to use everything that I own until it either wears out, breaks and 
cannot be repaired, or I have recycled it to another family through our local yahoo 
freecycle group.

Ó April 18, 2012
Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen

Written for Poetry Soup Member Contest: Beyond Earth Hour Writing Challenge :
Sponsored by Nikko Palmario 

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Sorrow of life

Have courage for the great sorrow of life
Patience for the small ones
You laboriously accomplished daily task
Go to sleep in peace Eternal God is awake


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Naked to Bare on the Sea Breeze

Her curves, her undualtions
Cry out for loving hands
Amidst the golden beaches
Peachy skin now manned

Naked to bare in the sea breeze
As the breakers caress the shore
Jojoba oils now delight
She sighs, her desire for more

Now oiled, massaged and appeased
She turns and lies on her back
His eyes now carpet her shapes
Her body shows no lack

Their afternoon progresses
Under beautiful azure blue skies
Sharing a kiss, a whisper of love
Their lips in touching apply

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Oft when folks are talkin',
They'll use a phrase or two,
That can be taken wrongly,
The meaning misconstrued;

And so they get the text all wrong,
And spread it far and wide,
And when you learn what you have said,
You wonder why they lied.

Some people just don't listen,
When others talk to them,
So just part of what you're saying,
Ever gets through to them.

Here a word and there a phrase,
Is stored within their mind;
Then they weave it all together,
And Oh what they can find.

It pays you well to watch your words,
Speak plain, don't joke around;
For what you say in jest my friend,
Will later on rebound.

Then just try to 'splain it.
Explain it if you can;
But most folks won't believe you,
'Cause they just don't understand.

                                          Judy Ball

So often people spread around gossip that has no real bearing whatsoever simply because they misunderstood what someone said to them. 
Sometimes people will say something in jest that others take as serious talk so that's the story they spread to others.
Why is that?
Because it's often more fun to some people to believe the worst than it is to believe the best about someone else.
Remember, when someone tells you gossip about someone else it's a good idea to ask yourself what that same person says about you when you aren't there to defend yourself.
A gossip is like a loaded gun.
When it goes off all it causes is destruction.

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:sigh of relief:

Words spoken in silence,

[When language does not suffice]

Like a look or a tear, although concise

Can echo a lifetime in your ear,

Much louder than those you can hear.

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Long Live Love

A toss of the head
A flick of her hair
The wave of her hand
As her beauty did flare
Her bountiful step
The spring in her stride
Her laugh as we waked 
Hand in hand through the tide
Her mouth with its smile
As we wrote in the sand
Her cries of frustration
As sea coated the land
Those little I love yous
Meant so much back then
That on annual vacations
We repeat them again
For least we forget 
In the daily ado
Our marrital vows
Mean forever I do

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                  Not I, Then Who

Another blood bath. A bubbling bunch of innocence      
Shot down by an ogre, in brutal arrogance;                         
A busy mutter ‘The system is in pits',and done,                   
All sighed, time and again, lost  in deep reverence …                   

By lesser mortals a girl was quelled bestially, a mere decadence.      
Lost her life on board a bus, a public conveyance ;                            
said the folks again,’The system just feeds political hunger.’                       
Once more all sighed, time and again, in wrenching grievance.           

Thus, (we are) reclined in the cradle of excuses in ample luxuriance
Till one day a hurricane pounces, triggers petulance,                             
holds in whirls of life’s misfortunes. No trace of poised elegance.       
No sophisticated statements. No thick and proud prudence.              

No fondling of excuses in hands; Only pangs of helpless despondence.   
No claiming of those laid back excuses over forfeited chances;        
From all angles, volumes of consequences pry in variance 
No systems, no excuses; only victimized throes teem in abundance.     

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Heaven Sent

I'm standing on the platform, but I ain't waiting for a train
It's a spaceship I'm about to enter to take me to another plane
I'm going on a journey and I'll be gone for many a year
But the sights I view will marvel I, and quell all my fears

The countdown has reached it's prime as the boosters ignite the fuel
Blast off as I head to the heavens, escaping the atmosphere's cool
The tanks that have carried me here, are released to fall to the earth
There's no turning back I say to myself, this is a time to feel worth

The first thing I do when we orbit, is to view where I came from
Whatever I find, where ever I go, there will only be one place called home
Into the black void we travel, passing abandoned pieces of man
Redundantly left to roam, they have finished their part of his plan

We pass many particles of matter, forever strewn in this darkened world
Remnants of explosions from it's past, in ever travelling hurl
Bright lights appear all around, these plasma luminous balls
Held together by gravity, growing up they left us in enthralled

As we travel we become very wary, of the monster from this deep
Black Holes we are told many a time, from them nothing seeps
These regions of space lure, not even light can escape
Anything bright in it's presence, becomes inter planetary rape

But out in this uncharted territory lies a beautiful wonderful place
It's called the Milky Way Galaxy, it's where our Solar System is graced
If man ever decides to frequent, we have to leave many traits behind
For if there are others out here, we really have to be

A totally different, mankind.

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Aging Heart

Time runs fast when we are young,
As fast as human eyes can blink.
Turn away and there it goes,
What youth we have will slowly sink.

It runs with legs that won’t tire
So that your aging heart may sleep.
Close your eyes and let it fall,
The fruits you’ve reaped are yours to keep.

Does the river dry when you
Have passed the rapids of this ride?
Open your eyes so you may see
The world you’re bound to on this tide.

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If I am who I say I am,
And what I claim to be,
It won't be hard to figure out,
My actions tell the story.

I cannot sit 'midst muck and mire,
And claim it isn't so.
I can't ignore the things I'm taught,
And say I'm trying to grow.

I cannot sway this way and that,
And still expect to see,
The same old trust,respect and love,
That once was given freely.

If I'm to keep that love in tact,
It must be guarded fiercely;
Else I may find that love will die,
From being nourished poorly;

For I am what I wish to be,
It's no one's fault but mine.
I cannot blame what I have done,
On some mistake in time;

So if I wish my friends to see,
The dignity I claim,
I cannot hide it deep inside,
While I play foolish games.

                                                                           Living Bible  James 1:26

Living Bible  James 1:27

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I was promised a bike
Then I made my dad mad
He said it was my fault
All because I was bad

Promises promises
Yes so easy to make
little pieces of dreams
That other people take

My first lover told me
She'd love me for all time
What we had was special
She would always be mine

Promises promises 
Yes so easy to make
Little pieces of dreams
That other people take

Still I kept believing 
These wishes would come true
Promises promises
Would stop making me blue

So I made a promise
One I hoped would be true
It turned out my promise
Wasn't easy to do

Promises promises
Yes so easy to make
Little pieces of dreams
That even I can take

I look to the heavens
I can now see so clear
He's the promise keeper
Who has always been here

His wonderful promises
Have all been made and kept
With this realization
I just silently wept

He gave me some loved ones
To show dreams can come true
There really are people
Whose promises are true

A shout out to some of the promise keepers 
Who have made a difference in my life. Mom, Teresa, Mary and Matthew.
I love you all so much.

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On Idioms

While on a grammatical search, I've found
Many strange phrases all around,
And by some of them, I've been appalled;
Idioms are what they're called.

Then I wondered, how would it feel,
If idiosyncratic things were real?
The experience itself might be absurd;
I'll try to express the results in words.

It would be quite painful, I can tell
If we really walked on eggshells
Especially if you wore bare feet,
Shoes would seem a special treat.

And human beings would seem frail
If they were really thin as rails.
It would be weird to see it, though--
someone hula-hooping with Cheerios

Would it be hard to pick a fight,
If people had all bark but no bite?
I'm sure they'd be good at hide 'n seek;
'Cause with all that bark, they'd look like a tree.

And wouldn't humans be hard to find
If we really went back to the grind?
We'd probably be dust, and nothing more;
Sprinkled across the grinding floor.

Something else I'd have to see
Is if everything was Greek to me
Would all the people also look Greek?
If I had no toga, would I be the freak?

And I think we could all take great delight
If we really could fly as high as a kite.
Although, the fun would vary for each,
Depending how high your string could reach.

To have backseat drivers would be strange for sure;
Everyone's seatbelts had best be secure
How could you drive if you can't see the road?
Unless the car's backward, and you use back windows.

So many weird sayings; I'm glad they're not real,
Otherwise living here would not be ideal.
Indeed, idioms make this language strange;
No wonder some countries think us deranged.

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Hates' Jungle

Running through flowers in the glen,
Curly hair and golden skin shining,
Beauty  in the sun, fleeing maiden.
Gunshot sounds in the distance blasting.

A new dawn dying to begin.
Her mother lost behind her ... found.
Black ... bound and beaten by madmen.
But Bea ran faster than the hound.

War Between the States had begun.
Her hope soaring like an eagle,
Freedom glaring in the bright sun.
Brightened her way through hates' jungle.

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Tension on Site

Writers are lured or find their way
And when they arrive they write their say
Welcomed aboard their words are shared
On arrival are they, cared or scared

We read in the blogs, about that, about this
Sometimes it's serious, sometimes it's bliss
We are here to write, and share our work
If that doesn't work, our roads have forks

Decide if ye may, if it's here your to be
If you are, it's to be in harmony
If it is not, democracy rules
Don't become one of them, a literary fool

For this is the site that rises above
Indiscretions if any, we are bound to shove
Our writers have been lured, and lured to stay
If this site's not for you, please be on your way

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15 Minutes Of Quatrain Fame Oxymoron

no matter how many
media are used
just a few will know
what's unique about you.

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Acting My Age

“You’re not a giddy teenager
So why can’t you act you’re age?”
I looked at him heartbroken
Then my body shook in a rage

“Being passionate about life
Means I am acting like a child?
You demand that I be demure
Does that mean being meek and mild?

No, no, my dear, I want to shout
I want to be crazy and mad
To stick my head out the window
Belt out love songs that make me glad

I want to let my body move
To a belly dance drumming sound
I want to feel young and alive
Make love without hushing the sound

On days when I water the yard
I want to get wet to the core
As I point the hose to the sky
The wetness makes me crave for more

I want to see my sun catcher
Make the rainbows dance on my wall
And have multicolored sweet dreams
I want to wander through them all

When you take me for a long ride
I’ll let the wind dance with my hair
I want the music to be loud
What if people just stop and stare?

I want to laugh till my sides hurt
And the tears are just streaming down
I want people to be happy
So I play the part of the clown

They say life begins at forty
Now I know that it does for me
Don’t you dare try to bring me down
You know this 'girl' needs to feel free

Peter Pan’s not the only one
Who will stay forever this young
He’s got me for good company
You know, we have songs yet unsung

So…please, if I am eccentric
And acting a little insane
Remember that I’m passionate
So please, I beg you, don’t complain

And when I want to be ravished
Or to play a naughty love game
Don’t say that was for way back then
Don’t you dare try to make me tame

I desire to ingest life
At a mad and frenetic pace
I am desperate to feel the rain
Splashing down on my upturned face

You know that I must be sun kissed
And to spray on coconut spray
To do handstands in seawater
And to bask in this sun drenched day

I want to cry when things move me
I want to feel, to taste, to touch
I want to giggle like a girl
When something does please me so much

I’m sorry I disappoint you
Sorry I don’t act forty five
But before this life is over
I want to feel vibrant…alive!

Yet, I will try not to shame you
Try to tone it down just a bit
But my dear, this fact you must know
In your box, I surely don’t fit

Yes, you may think I’m 'immature'
And I may act much like a teen
But I’d rather be wild and free
Than captive to rules like a queen."

Eileen Manassian Ghali

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Sorry, But

He is there again, the Cardboard Man.
I’ll drive away as fast as I can,
Or maybe I’ll throw him a single buck.
If I’m out of change, he’s out of luck.

He says that he will work for food.
I’d take his challenge if I could,
But I fear that this could be a scam.
He could be a convict on the lam.

His sign says he’s a homeless vet.
Surely there’s help that he can get.
One who deserves our admiration
Should not be abandoned by his nation.

I carefully avert my face
As I wish he’d find another place
To display his misery and woe.
I have my own tough row to hoe.

How much can one lone woman do?
My cash is short, resources few.
In fear and shame, I drive away.
May he live to beg another day.

Written 10/22/11

A no. 3

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The greatest treasure on this earth, 
A joy that knows no end,
Is the timeless, never failing love 
Of a true and faithful friend.

And thus you are to me, my friend,
And thus you'll always be.
Your sincere love and friendship
Means the world, and more, to me.

In times of need you were right there
To lend a helping hand.
When my soul is heavy-laden,
You seem to always understand.

With abundant wealth of friendship,
I know I'm heaven-blest, 
But of all the friends I've ever known
To me, you've been the very best.

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The Skin That I Am Wrapped In

The skin that I am wrapped in
Is just a simple sheath
Protects me from what’s outside
Conceals what is beneath

But the skin that I am wrapped in
Seems sometimes like a wall
Separates me from some people
Who don’t seem to care at all

What you can’t see beneath my skin
Is the person who I am
You can’t see that I’m just like you
You don’t seem to understand

How can such a tiny layer
So fragile and so gaunt
Make you think that I am someone
Who I am clearly not?

Maybe I’m shaped different
Than you seem to be
Maybe I’m a different hue
But that isn’t all of me

Maybe we’re from different worlds
Or maybe worlds the same
Maybe we have different lives
Or maybe different names

But the skin that we are wrapped in
Gives us all a certain bond
We are all only human
And we’re all loved by God

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It was on a Sunday morning in the village where I stay
Out walking with my dog, I heard some pensioners say
Did you hear about the earthquake, it was somewhere in our State
No magnitude has ever been like it, it's impossible to relate

Quickly I headed home, to view this terrible news
Upon turning on the TV, I'm in horror at what my eyes now view
The awesome Golden Gate Bridge, against an azure bluey day
Lies broken, distorted and twisted, as if it's foundations had given way

The camera now focuses on the mainland, capturing plumes of choking black
Freeways lie twisted and contorted, trains running from their tracks
Gas lines spew throwers of flames, sirens resonate in blaring sound
What was level hours before, have dropped from it's original grounds

Many reporters are now on the scene, as they pan out across the blue
From the helicopter of CNN, Alcatraz disappears from their view
Slowly the island it sat on, as if by magic, now it has gone
Words are heard through the speakers, what the hells gone wrong

The daylight turns to black, a city lies in shreds
Memories of 1906, when three thousand plus were dead
All through the night, tremors came and went
Has history repeated itself, the San Andreas Serpent

I am awoken in the morning, having left the TV on
Panic stricken reporters screaming, most of San Francisco's gone
Where once stood a city, lie pillars of battered ruins
Deep gorges surround them, in bloodied scattered strewn

There's a break in the programme, it's from Yellowstone National Park
The land is starting to rise, incredible is the remark
Geysers that once flowed often, have receded in their shower
Are we about to witness, another of her powers

Back to the CNN studios, more footage of the morning
Towering inferno's in sickened tears, the clock, the warning
I fall to my knees in remembrance of the date
It's December the 21st, has earth met it's fate

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I Smile

The tables have turned
A new chapter in my book
I was giving up hope
But risked a second look

Strolling into my life
With speckled shoulders and toothy smile
Saves me from it all
Tells me holding on could be worthwhile

A raging, fast current
Leaves me head over heels
Changing souls into fire
Rather than rusting steel

In a look there was love
That had never been spoken
Mending and healing
The things that should never be broken

Life and love just keeps growing
And I’ve stopped biting my tongue
I’m collapsed in a heap of smiles
And I feel fresh air replete my lungs

My heart thumping felicity
Through my once hollow veins
Accepting all of life
And cleaning out the stains

Dancing on my toes
Eager for your lips
That have shown me what’s real
Replaced old life’s script

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Good People Of Earth


Where are we heading
With this mayhem, destruction, and killing
Is this what we call a civilized society
A look to the future can be chilling


I know you're out there
You outnumber these maniacal tyrants
Let's band together, stage our own uprising
Make love a life long commitment


The time has arrived
To rise up with a mighty big roar
Multitudes of us normal law abiding folks
Ain't taking this bull crap no more


Hear what I'm saying
It's time to turn things around
Can't allow this debauchery to continue
Let joy and happiness abound

© Jack Ellison 2012

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What effects has covetousness or Greed in our souls

Covetousness or Greed begets 
In our souls unkindness
Dishonesty, deceit
And want of Charity or Love

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Ink Stains

                                     You've tried to hit me with a pick-up truck,
                                            But instead you caught the train.
                                            Thinking you had the game won,
                                            I was the one to say checkmate.


                                                     ©2014 Honestly JT

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Amidst a Heathery Hue

Amidst a heathery hue below a towering Ben
A beautiful maiden graces this proud of Highland men
From overseas she sailed her visions now finally clear
She lies before me in witness my heart pounds she is so near

Face to face we are chattering like birds on the wing
My hand she takes to her bosom her heart now starts to sing
Of melodies about love and the wanting of loving arms
No more hurt and sorrow just days full of romantic charms

Future days in blissful awakenings, just as it should be
My arms like canopies of green all wrapped around this loving she
Many kisses and cuddles that anoint this blissful pair
Speechless amidst a heathery hue, for all I can do is stare

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the whales and us

Blessed are the whales For people go far to keep them safe But who will save the future of mankind In a world so preoccupied with what's mine?

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Christian Name

God or Father Christ calls each one by name
Everyone’s name is sacred
The Name is the icon of the person
It demands respect as a sign of dignity of one who bears it

Written 09122012 CCC 2158

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A Posting to Remember

We met during the war on this now famous sunny isle
Like a moth to a flame, was her infectious smile
I was in the Navy, stationed aboard an MTB
Keeping shipping lanes open, for the Mediterranean Fleet

Whilst the war years progressed you could sense the islands bravery
Heavily bombed and damaged, under threat of Axis slavery
Although we lived amidst, we could only marvel at their spirit and guile
They fought hard for their liberty on that famous sunny isle

I'll never forget the times, endured during this terrible war
Camaraderie became their strength, for what they had fought-en for
Simple life went on, amidst the cafes and the bars
My new found love from this famous sunny isle, became my married dove

We still recall the radio broadcast, declaring that war is over
As we headed back to my homeland, to Scotland and live in clover
The day that we embarked, many a tear fell from our eyes
Looking back at this famous sunny isle, under peaceful azure blue skies

Many a word we spoke, whilst we sailed to Southampton Port
Now demobbed, to a civilian, hopefully the war mongers are brought to court
Although the war years showed their horrors, respect was never far away
This famous sunny isle, wears the George Cross in deserved display

Heading home to Scotland, past fields in harvest bloom
This proud Royal Navy sailor, with his bride and he a groom
We cried as we passed the war torn, not only was it the famous sunny isle
For the war had been so expansive, in it's putrid inhuman vile

We settled on the West Coast, amidst the heather and the glens
Bringing up our boys, praying they'll never be fighting men
Many nights we stayed up, answering questions of our past
From that famous sunny isle, our true love would always last

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Lack of perspective 
on a burdensome life
leaves us in pieces
near a sharpened, slick knife.

Smashing heads yet again,
to the wall I beat mine,
trying to break through
to our friendship in time.

My appearance lacks 
motivation and heart,
locked away in my mind,
I am falling apart.

I don't treat such a treasure
like one should be loved,
stopped giving time of day to 
my friend from above.

Care too much 
and stow it all away,
making it look like I don't care
whether you leave me or stay.

A painful gut feeling may 
nibble at my gray heart,
but I just fear the truth
and I don't know where to start.

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A Firing

As your immediate boss and superior It behoves me to have to inform you Your services are no longer required A formal letter of termination will ensue! It has nothing to do with performance You've really done an admirable job Believe me, I've tried hard to ignore them The rumours from everyone's gob! You've stepped over the line, my friend With this affair that has people talking Each time you walk through the office Sure you've noticed people gawking I've tried really hard to turn a blind eye And attempted to keep it hush hush But now I just can't ignore it anymore I'm beginning to turn into a lush! Normally it's not a reason for dismissal But you've caused me to endure such strife That I must consider this a special case Coz the partner in this affair is my wife! © Jack Ellison 2012

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Today will be a good day.
I won't complain and moan,
About the things that I don't have,
Count curses all alone.

Instead I'll count my blessings,
Thank Him for what is mine,
Appreciate what He has done,
To make my life sublime;

For others do not have the things,
That I just take for granted,
Good food, good clothes, a place to live,
It's really as I planned it.

Though everything is not the way,
I'd have it, truth to tell,
He's satisfied my every need,
Most wants supplied as well.

I have all I really need.
I really can't complain.
Though some have more, it's still just fine,
For we aren't all the same.

We each are blessed according to,
What's best for you and me.
It's personal and custom made,
For personalities.

For Being Happy Contest by Carol Brown

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Anger pushes us to yell
Sadness makes us cry
Loneliness we feel unwanted
Of depression we want to die

Ignorance we feel stupid
Of boredom we feel useless
But the worst kind of feeling
Is when you're just plain heartless.

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Romance of Rain

This rainful haze but coldly dance atop that meekly warmth of eve a fancy frozen of a hum of feast and drink, we drown and live and half about our highly walls the windows keep the tease of dew – our roads run up some busied halls of damning damp, of dulling old and nightly drumming men of rain a crowd we are of wont by sleep our prance in wet a holy sight your calm, a godly icing breathe but we both know the sins of gray that dance we hear is opt to fade I am no moon, nor sun, nor day for ours is but, romance of rain.
August 18, 2012

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How quickly it is over,
This game of life we play.
All the days that we're allotted, 
Oh, so swiftly pass away.

The roses lose their glory,
As their petals fade and fall, 
While evening shadows lengthen,
On life's westward facing wall.

But there yet is time for loving,
Time for family and friends--
Time for sharing tears and laughter,
Ere the game comes to an end.

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All my life I longed for you.
You filled my thoughts and dreams.
You'd stand majestic, head held high,
My mind's eye saw the gleam,

Of vibrant health, unbounded strength,
That shone from a glistening coat,
The look of eagles in your eye,
As you moved you seemed to float,

Like the billowing clouds that float across,
The azure sky above.
When I'm with you I too can fly,
I soar on wings of love.

We glide across the meadow,
Beneath the sun lit sky,
We are the best of fellows,
My dog, my horse and I.

I believe God had many reasons for giving us the animals and if we try we can figure out what those reasons are.
For one thing, I believe the first and foremost reason was to TEACH US.
Have you ever noticed they have remained just as He created them?
They never deviated from the original plan.
We, However, have done our level best to IMPROVE on PERFECTION; and we have poisoned the environment and nearly destroyed the entire planet in the attempt.
What is more loyal than a dog?
Animals have shown more self sacrificing  loyalty and courage in the face of danger than we ever dreamed of. They love completely and will willingly sacrifice themselves for our good. How many of us will do that for them? In fact we laugh at those who will.
We KEEP them as long as it is convenient and then cast them aside without a thought for their love or well being or how much heart break they suffer for our uncaring treatment of them. We don't try to understand them at all; but we expect them to understand us. If we are so much smarter than them, how come we have never learned any of this from them? Could it be that we are so selfish and concerned for our own comfort that nothing else matters much to us?
The love we receive from our animals is completely unconditional.
The love they receive from us HAS IT'S LIMITS.
We should give that some serious thought.

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Four people were walking at four fourty four
Faith Fullen at aft and Phil Fallon at fore
Then Fallon moved aftward and Fullen went fore
Till fullen was first and Phil Fallon was four

~For the Four, For, Fore contest~

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Oh Lord, keep Your arm around my shoulder,
And Your hand over my mouth,
As I go about my business,
Do my work and keep my house;

And when it comes to doing that,
Help me to do just that.
Help me to sweep up my own dirt,
Instead of staring at,

All the dirt that clutters 'round,
My neighbor's dirty door step.
Let me instead tend to my own,
For there I'll find more yet.

Let me not be quick to judge,
Nor slow to lend an ear,
And help me keep a civil tongue,
Offending not Your ear.

If I can't speak one good word,
Let me not speak at all,
For in the multitude of words,
The devil has a ball.

Help me to remember,
What goes on inside my head,
Will find it's way out through my mouth,
And fill my life with dread;

So teach me Lord, to think good thoughts,
For as the saying goes,
It's often best to close your mouth,
And just breathe through your nose.

Proverbs 10:11

Proverbs 10:18

Proverbs 10:14

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Bumps In Front

Her bumps in front are plain to see You should be ashamed for thinking rude You have no idea what I'm referring to, do you Bet you thought I was talking about boobs! I assume most people would think the same Guess I was hasty and a little bit tough Strange how people react to certain words They're jaded and overrun with this stuff! Well there's a real innocent explanation That'll make you smile with delight Her bumps in front are on her Lexus coupe Ran into an old lady on a bike! © Jack Ellison 2012

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my great act

What a great act I can perform
I can act happy forever
I have been working on this act
And I think it’s very clever
If you were to see through my act
You would see I’m not really glad
I don’t like the people I see
They always make me mad
If I could find one person
Who doesn’t gossip and whisper
Then I’d probably be in dreamland
Almost everybody gives me a blister
I like my poetry family
They don’t care if blah blah blah
I don’t want to be hurt by people
Because in reality gossip isn’t against the law

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The Heart, A Place of Love 2K12

Pardon, May someone please; What is this place?
Why does it appeare that time itself slows?
Why do Butterflies throng and heartbeats race?
Why do hearts melt as tho' snowflakes, Whom knows?

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Seven Blank Tiles Speak

If I had seven free tiles
I know the word I would make
And when you know my word
We need it for earth's sake

The word that I have chosen
Chowa is what it means to me
It's what will reunite us all
The word is simply harmony

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My Desire to Roam Shall Be

The place where I desire to roam
Lies just of the African coast
The Canaries is where I desire
It's where my heart will rejoice the most

My life in Scotland is through
It's time for my soul to move on
To Tenerife or Lanzarote
A new country is where I'll belong

For my heart has been bruised and battered
Left out in the cold for many a year
Frozen to the point of no return
Reigniting was always a fear

For it doesn't happen every day
Meeting someone with like's, like I
And to look into Spanish brown eyes
If you'd witnessed, you'll understand why

Then came the day it all changed
It was like looking through the looking glass
My eyes met these Spanish brown orbs
The most beautiful looking lass

With a smile to delight any looker
Her personality sure lures me in
For her music taste I so noted
Like the hairs always rise on my skin

For the place I desire to roam
Lies just of the African coast
The Canaries is where I will stay
Many years in love I will so toast

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In this Place of Old

On silken sheets, curvaceous she
Alluring eyes are drawn to me
Pert, excited she craves my hand
In loving caress, two in understand

Gently we kiss like Rose petals soft
Whilst exterior storms lash our Highland croft
Candle light flickers across the walls we dance
Postures so sexy, delightful we stance

Passionate sighs thrall, in this place so old
Body temperatures rise deflecting it's cold
We are two become one in thunderous lust
Wanting we are absorbing loving so just

Hands wander tease in adventurous taunt
Kissing aplenty in sexily want
Avenues pursued amidst erogenous groans
Candle light dims as it bows to our moans

Loving sighs implode, together we lie graced
Enriched in we, in this wonderful place
Drifting souls entwined now entering tomorrows dreams
Displaying wonderful colours, like rainbow streams

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Mellow Years

Mellow Years

The bearded gentleman looked neat,
As he passed my house on the street.
In declining years, yet still enduring,
Scoffing at age, merely maturing.

Chronologically ripened, who knows what age?
He’d smile and say he’s still on life’s stage.
You could set your clock by his daily walk
To get fresh air, sometimes stopping to talk.

Losing his wife, outliving friends,
Guarding his life, avoiding sins,
To a loving Savior he was dedicated.
To good behavior he was predicated. 

He left the impression of enjoying life,
His body aging, his wit sharp as a knife.
Accused of growing old he simply sneers,
Admitting only to mellowing years.

—James E. Tate, March 2012

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Sandy Hook

Today, it just doesn't seem fair
That we are still able to breathe.
They have given us their air-
Our duty to lead the life they leave.

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Envy Of Other People

Obsessed with other’s wallets,
how much they have or earn,
how they manage to live as they do
or how they have money to burn.

How they can ‘afford’ to do this and that,
‘A new car I see on the drive’,
‘Yet another holiday’
and ‘More gadgets to arrive!’

‘They have more coming in than we do’
or else ‘They’re all in debt!’
Who cares what others have
or how much they seem to get.

Stop fretting about the neighbors,
how it compares to what you do.
I sense a little envy
that they have more than you!

They may be living in luxury
but be feeling rather sad,
they may have every gadget
but home life may be bad.

Why compare with other people
or envy them their ‘things’?
You can’t see what it cost them
or the heartache that it brings.

So work at being happy,
focus on family too,
keep your outlook sunny
and others will envy you!

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Some eyes are blue;
Some eyes are brown.
Variety makes 
The world around.

Some hair is black, 
Some hair is white,
One day is made up
Of darkness and light

Skin colors differ,
It must be said,
But one thing is true:
All blood is red.

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Our Paradise Island

Our destination is an island out there
In an ocean of blue with sands so fair
It has everything you would want on a paradise isle
Scenery so beautiful you can't help but smile

We set of from the pier in the Florida Keys
Journeying down south going with the breeze
Down to Panama via it's amazing canal
Sailing into the moonlight me and my gal

From ocean to ocean, Atlantic to the Pacific
Through this engineering gem, just incredible, terrific
The expanse we desire is within our sights
Out past the horizon will be many our night

With the waves we sailed to our yonder blue
Amidst colouring skies of beautiful hue
Whilst shapes from the deep shadow our course
Through the waters they ease with effortless force

Ahead in the distance we hear a thunderous crash
Breakers of white in foamy strewn splash
Sea birds aplenty in torpedo dive
Their feeding frenzy for survival strive

We anchor offshore in a lagoon so calm
As we row to the shore viewing delightful palms
Swaying in the breeze like a chorus of arms
On this paradise island showing one of it's charms

We settle into the evening in our new island home
Sleeping into tomorrow around it's shores we will roam
Living life to the full in this blissful surround
Happiness in tranquillity around us abounds

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Pity the poor evangelist.
He must always be so perfect.
Not for him the down cast brow,
For fear of it's effect,

On those that he may chance to meet,
Who know of his profession.
A man like him must always greet,
A critical procession.

For friend and foe he must remain,
A beacon in the sky;
To sing his song with glad refrain,
And never dare a sigh;

For if he lets the barrier down,
Even for a moment,
The crowd is sure he's lost his crown,
And thinks his spirit dormant.

We all are made of flesh and blood,
And though some think this odd,
It's hard to stand on a pedestal, Friend,
Even for men of God.

Sometimes we thinnk so much of someone we put them on a pedestal in our mind's eye.
When we do that we don't really do them any favors. Actually we do them a dis-service.
Because then we expect much more of them than we should.
That's not fair. People are people, no more and no less.

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I am for what I am

Since the day that I first left
Looking back,
Through different windows
Knowing there will be reft

I am for what I am, and I'll be

I am for what I am, you'll see

I found it hard to explain
The actions of our cause
Highlanders against the Lowlanders
Simply because

I am for what I am, and I'll be

I am for what I am, you'll see

The answers and reactions
To which they promptly, replied
Trust and honour abounds
And pity those who lied

I am for what I am, and I'll be

I am for what I am, you'll see

I'm now in an enviable position
To look back on my ancestors so
I'm Scottish, the son of Kane
From my days so long ago

I am for what I am, and I'll be

I am for what I am, you'll see

My name is semaj, The Highlander
I've come back from your future so
To an earth in rutted grief
And allow your tomorrow flow

I am for what I am, and I'll be

I am for what I am, you'll see

All Nations should be accounted
North and South Hemispheres
To allow you to continue
Allay our space age fears

I am for what I am, and I'll be

I am for what I am, you'll see

It's the reason I have returned
To Scourie is where it started
Your future wormhole lies
For me, it's where I departed

I am for what I am, and I'll be

I am for what I am, you'll see

We can only take,
The ones who'll live so free!

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People as Mortal Angels

We are independent with people on earth
Our mortal angels are always there to assist us
But, we can never be independent in everything
God is our everything

Mortal Angels as people are unemployed these days
Ask help for certain Mortal Angels
Today and everyday
They will not refuse to assist you

For a joyful
Successful relationship
You need spiritual and mental union with people

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Answering Questions

Would you like to touch the stars?
Kiss the Moon or maybe Mars,
Run across a curvy rainbow,
To a place of ice and snow?

Could you smile the cold away
And leave me here with nothing to say,
Take my blood tears into your arms,
Paint my life with cinnamon charms?

Is it possible to smile forever,
See the World in pink and never
Be too far away from you,
Without which life has no clue?

Can a thought become a destiny
In the great emotional vastity,
When you feel like you're insane
With nothing to lose or gain?

Do our souls really dance on a string,
Or shine into oblivion,like a diamond ring?
When no one is here to ease the pain,
We've got eachother and that's not in vain.

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I never felt a part of things,
Never felt like I belonged,
Never felt like I was wanted,
And I always really longed,

To feel like someone wanted me,
To feel like I fit in,
To be included in the things,
With family and friends.

For reasons that I couldn't know,
I always got pushed back;
Kept quiet and out of their way,
As though somehow I lacked,

Some social graces that perchance,
Might cause some consternation,
If I should come into the room,
And spoil their celibration.

I could have some food, some cake,
Then get out of the way.
Don't mingle with the guests at all,
Sit down if you will stay.

My sister's wedding hurt the most,
That's when I really saw,
I was like a well known guest,
Not part of things at all.

They did not even want me,
In the picture with them all.
I was told to stand aside,
And wait till I was called.

Not part of the wedding party,
I was not allowed,
To be photographed along with them,
In case it might becloud,

My sister's perfect moment,
Immortalized in time,
And I did not fit in with them,
There wasn't room in line;

And so it's been most of my life,
Rejected most by those,
Who should be closest to me,
Even the mate I chose;

So it's no wonder that I built,
A wall for my protection.
When I reached out I got pushed back,
I'm tired of such rejection.

                                        Judy Ball

It's very important to consider the feelings of your children.
What happens to us in our formative years often stays with us forever.

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Upon a road of crooked adventure ventured I
With my words flowing from the forest to the naked plain
Two statesmen and one stately lady censured I
Claiming, perhaps correctly, that I was inane 

Upon a street that wound around a town I wound 
I had little in my pockets and even less of a chance
Ties had me bound while unaware to where I was bound
Tied to tumult and shackled to a circuitous circumstance

I chose to meander down a meandering lane
While my muscles made their misery very well known
Too many people claimed I complained about a malingering pain
But my aches were actual down to the very last bone

On a rambling road I rambled down a wretched road
While describing in detail my detrimental disdain
No one carried me but I carried a heavy load
While those people maintained  that I must be insane

I was strolling down some high rolling hills
Whereupon three strangers accused me of commanding them toward crime
I forced no one to do anything since I believe that cajoling kills
Besides the fact that I had neither the inclination nor the time

These people made their pertinent predictions perfectly plain
I didn’t ask them nor did I need to know why
They vowed I’d grow more insane from years of the pretense of pain
But they’re all very wrong since I have only one year till I die
                                © 2013 copyright PHREEPOETREE… cee!~

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Why Do I Feel Responsible???

I still have dreams that haunt me.
I'm back there as a child.
I see the drinks, the drugs and all.
I watch our family be defiled.

In my dreams I try to help you.
I try to stop the pain.
The stress of changing whats been done
is driving me insane.

I know that I was little.
I couldn't have changed a thing.
Then why do I feel so responsible
for almost everything? 

I feel I should have told you
I hated how we were.
It hurt to be so hungry.
I was afraid, alone and unsure.

I know I was only one of five
and we all went through the pain.
I just can't keep from going back
and feeling it all again.

If only I could have stopped you.
I could have saved you from the drugs.
I could have held you and begged of you.
But, oh hated hugs.

I try not to visit back there
but my dreams go where they may.
Each night I take a step back in time
I hear a little girl say......

Why do I feel responsible? ? ? 

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Words Left Unsaid...

Smiling to these unfamiliar faces
Never showing signs or traces 
Of how she truly feels inside
The girl whose feelings she’ll always hide

Barriers she built so long ago
Have yet to be touched, for no one can know
To try and open up seems such a difficult feat
So she’ll keep her heart and mind discrete

She longs to scream and let others know
How she feels like her life has reached a plateau
She’s yearning for love, for something more
But feelings on her sleeve, she’s never wore

Vulnerability is the scariest word she could hear
For being loved and left is by far her worst fear
People come and go, but the ones who stay
Are the very ones she tries to push away

She finds comfort in being simplistic
Her views on the world are disturbingly realistic
She understands people and how they can be
So she chooses to live her life privately

Regardless of emotions she chooses to show
And through her actions and motives people try to construe
Yet, when night falls and she rests her head
She doesn’t long for the world, just for words left unsaid

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Love is Like an Antique

Some people like to throw away
Things others consider a treasure
They simply are so ignorant
Of how it’s worth to measure

They think that because it’s old
It is ugly and outdated
That’s often how people feel
About the ones that have mated

They always look for something new
Something that is stream lined and sleek
And so the old they set aside
With brashness at the new they peek

Myself, I’m an ardent lover
Of antiques in all their splendor
My father taught me their true worth
I care for them with hands tender

I do confess antiques take time
To restore to an earlier state
A lot of effort is needed
To make these precious antiques great

Relationships are much the same
The older are more tried and true
They just take more love and more care
To make them compete with the new

So dear, don’t you dare throw me out
In love’s massive garage sale
The new may be more enticing
But that buy’s surely bound to fail

You’ll soon tire of simple lines
And long for the fullness of me
So, stick to this old antique, boy
I’ll make you happy as can be!

So polish me here and over there
Bring out my original shine
Caress me here and over there
I’ll serve you and make your life fine.

Eileen Manassian Ghali

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I Don't Know What To Do With My Life

When that feeling rushes in-
I don't know what to do with my life-
I need to search from within
And look up toward the light.

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The Cyber World

The world is small in cyberspace
Where friendships are large and peace abounds.
Thought by thought we interlace…
Around the world similar people are found.

Those who care to share their love.
Those who see parallels in life…
Those who know the peaceful white dove.
And communicate goodness…not strife.

A world where ills all melt away,
Where affection grows a brighter day.
Where hope enjoys a colorful array.
 And people across all nations pray.

Anonymous friends who set aside pride.
And develop emotions of kindness inside.
In cyberspace understanding comes alive.
People greet; then, within tolerance thrives.

(Cyber-friends set examples for the real world.
Associating in a place where possessions matter not.
With our deepest hopes and fears unfurled,
We go where wisdom grows without being bought.)

Amid the worlds of fellowman we learn.
Acceptance and tolerance delivers dreams.
Where man is kind and does discern.
But beyond the world of cyber space…power schemes –

© January 1, 2011
Dane Smith-Johnsen

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Into my View She came

This day I sat pondering in San Andrés by the sea
Contemplating my tomorrows as I wonder where I'll be
It's getting close to noon as I absorb the morns suns rays
On the beach in Playa de Las Teresitas on this loveliest of days

Soft gentle breakers in caress across deep translucent blues
Thermals teasing natures kites, winged wonders grace her true
With the tenderest of applause they gently clap upon the shore
Soothing sounds of tranquility asks my desire to ask for more

I arise and turn to look back as I awe at these golds and blues
One can only marvel, at this most beautiful of views
My moment is drawing near for their is a lady I'm soon to meet
Kettle drums rule my heart, my footsteps match their drumming beat

Now absorbing where I am amidst subtropical greenery
In the Parque García Sanabria, admiring beautiful tall palm trees
I'm now standing beside the fountains so pure in their flow
Surrounded by natures gems I'm left in total bestow

Now enchanted by such scenery, I hear a voice as I turn around
Standing where I am, I view a beauty in natures surround
Into my view she came, her beauty magnified by the closer she nears
Her footsteps now match my heart, whilst the kettle drum disappears

Introductions are met, with a smile as we kiss cheek to cheek
An orchestra plays in my heart, in symphony of our meet
Strangely we retrace my steps, as we end up on earlier golden sands
Fate has finally clicked, sitting we are, chatting holding hands


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To bathe in her beauty
And taste splendor’s rain
To languish on swollen lips
Like the heat of summer’s pain
To devour her desire
And breathe passion’s flame
To feel her heart beat
When she whispers your name
To embrace her essence
Before her divinity ascends
To drink from her eyes
When she wants you again

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(To Those Who Like To Talk)

"Use No Hurtful Deceit. Think Innocently And Justly And When You Speak, Speak Accordingly."   Ben Franklin

He said, She said, every word,
Is often less than perfect;
And When we repeat what we have heard,
It's often not correct;

So if you must repeat a thing,
Make sure of all your info,
Or you may cause extreme distress,
Creating quite some side show;

For often we misunderstand,
What has been said to us,
Repeating what we think we heard,
Creating quite a fuss.

Feelings get hurt, good names are lost,
Relationships are wounded,
All because we spread abroad,
A story not well founded;

So if you hear about a thing,
That shocks you to your core,
Before you spread the story,
Find out what went before.

Exactly what was said to me?
Did I hear that right?
If I repeat this will it help,
Or will it cause a fight?

Sometimes it's best to let things lay,
Leave sleeping dogs alone.
Most talk is simply talk, no more,
Just people picking bones.

                                      Judy Ball

                                                                                               Proverbs 17:14
                                                                                            (Living Bible)
                                                                 Proverbs 26:21-22
                                                                 (King James)

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Upside Down Town

The ups and downs
of an upside down town.
Evil smiles, silent frowns
every way you turn around.

Sickening suspicions,
psychic visions,
children having premonitions
on a mission.

Here to heal,
here to steal,
to show the world how to feel.
No more cutting deals.

Sent to the world
a baby girl,
but she will unfurl
to change the world...

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To know you is to love you.
You brighten my whole day.
Just what I'd do without you,
I really couldn't say.

Without you to guide me,
I'd not know what to do.
I'd prob'ly think I was okay,
I'm lucky I've got you.

Without you to point it out,
I'd miss most of my faults.
I'd probably just vegetate,
Eat chocolates and drink malts.

You tell me what to say and when,
And what I should wear;
You're quite a find I must admit,
That just shows you care.

You're so well informed and smart,
Not at all like me,
I couldn't do without you,
I really must agree.

Always there to lend a hand,
With "helpful criticism".
I'm so dull and dumb I miss,
Your clever witicisms.

You really ought to leave me,
But that just isn't you;
Because you're so long-suffering,
And your heart is true.

You're so good to stay right here,
And take such care of me;
Showing me where I fall short,
'Thout you where would I be.

You're such a little honey bun,
You fill my life with laughter.
The last time I had this much fun,
They'd just put back my bladder.

(Some people are so busy correcting the faults of their family, friends and neighbors they forget to take stock of their own. People like that don't get invited back very often.)

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Successful Relationship

For a joyful
Successful relationship
You need spiritual and mental union


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She Walked- A Poem About my LIFE

She walked along life’s pathway
Dejected and alone
She walked along life’s pathway
Her course was yet unknown.
She passed by many people
Who wouldn’t even smile
She passed by many people
Who would not go the second mile.
She sighed and looked around her
The journey seemed so long
She sighed and looked around her
No one could sing her song.
She soon passed by Happyville
The people seemed alright
She soon passed by Happyville
She couldn’t spend the night.
She needed a happy pill
To get her through her day
She needed a happy pill
They wouldn’t let her stay.
She then passed by Strongville
The people seemed so tough
She then passed by Strongville
She wasn’t tough enough.
She rushed by Beautyville
They didn’t let her in
She rushed by Beautyville
She was plain and not thin.
She passed by Successville
The people with degrees
She passed by Successville
They’d bring her to her knees.
She passed by Churchville
The people there were saints
She passed by Churchville
They preached about constraints
She sat down and wondered
A tear rolled down her cheek
She sat down and wondered
Why she was so very weak.
She thought to just stay there
The world could pass her by
She thought to just stay there
It would be easier to die.
Just then he sat beside her
“You can lean on me!”
Just then he sat beside her
“There's much for you to see!”
He pulled her to her feet
He straightened up her hair
He pulled her to her feet
“There is beauty everywhere!”
He had learned the secret
It was no mystery
He had learned the secret
Contentville would set her free!
The people there were normal
They all had struggles too
The people there were normal
They’d make her feel brand new.
She walked along life’s pathway
She held on to his hand
She walked along life’s pathway
Glad that he could understand!

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Behind my Sight

It's bedtime once again
My knuckles showing white
Bed clothes gripped in fear
Behind my eyelids sight

There will come a day
When the silver bird will fall
Scraping building tops
Human deathly en-thrall

It has been so many years
Since the little girl has gone
She's below that darkened shed
In the caravan park where I belonged

She screams like one of old
From a far dark distant prairie
In hide with the running masses
Buffalo in full run scary

And then we turn to tomorrow
To other visions I have seen
I am no Nostradamus
And I am no in between

I have the fear of touch
To tell you where you've been
If I break of communication
I can tell what you've not seen

For those who cross my path
I see their future in my view
Behind my sight I see
More than me and you

It's my bedtime once again
My knuckles are showing white
If you crossed my path today
Will you ever sleep tonight

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No Sure Way

There is no surer way
To sacrifice who you are
For the sake of success
Popularity or a relationship

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In Wonderment, They Stared

What a joy it would be to see you walk the Glens
On purple bloomed heather, on the lands of the Highlander men
To witness your aura, your smile, amidst the Ben's atop with snow
For no matter who stands beside you, being there they'll surely glow

Being there they'll surely glow, proud to be standing there
To your beauty they will look in awe, in wonderment, amazing stare
Whilst all around there grows, many ferns from a forgotten past
For no matter who stands beside you, your beauty will always last

Your beauty will always last for it's captured in many hearts
In wonderment amazing stare, from the Highlands you'll never depart
Now imbedded your heart runs free, to roam these Alba Glens
And this Scotsman chosen beside you, your choice of Highland men  

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Miss October is our resident witch,
But she has a good name,
Unlike many others,
Of midevil fame.

A saucy little flirt is she,
Dancing all about,
At play in Autumn breezes,
Her skirts flying about.

Her eyes are black as onyx,
Her teeth are pearly white,
Her hair changes it's color,
Shining in the light.

Sometimes it's black as it can be,
Or red or gold or white,
No matter what it's color,
She's an enchanting sight.

She always has a pot on,
I thought it some strange brew,
She let me have a taste of it,
It was a tastey stew.

She never casts an evil spell,
Her magic's just for good.
She casts them all in secret,
As all good witches should.

My dog was hurt real bad once,
He had been in a fight.
She bound his wounds to help him,
And stayed with him all night.

I was really sick once,
I think I had the flu.
She tended and she nursed me,
Gave me some awful brew.

Another time I fell real hard,
When I was out at play,
She picked me up, looked in my eyes,
And took the pain away.

This witch casts her loving spell,
It seems on everyone.
We love her and we bless her,
You guessed it, she's my mom.

                                     Judy Ball

Mother's are like that, yeah, they are.
Endowed with the magic of love.

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The Cloister

“Gossip is the fastest form of communication” 

seven small homes on a cul de sac
seven homes from the rest, set back
time passed and brought a mystery 
seven sets of twins, neighbors see

one boy, girl pair all the same age
the blond, blue eyes fueled a rage
questions asked of mothers alone
the father never seemed at home

ignorance fueled gossip, bred hate
they wanted answers which relate
who was the father who so spread
from mom to mom and bed to bed

answers came, they slowly evolved
legal contracts can’t be dissolved
their father’s name thus protected
never faced charges formally read

the secret team had gathered facts
they were convinced of evil acts
gossip spread certainly fueled it
but "in vitro" was named the culprit. 

Aug 27 2011 Charles Henderson
for Rambling’s “Mother” contest

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Why Can't I Be Happy?

Why can't I be happy
when the world is at my door? 
I have all that I'll ever need.
I couldn't ask for more.

Then tell me why I'm empty.
Why do I feel so low? 
I wonder what is wrong with me
and if I'll ever know.

My brain say's 'stop debating..
you over-think too much! '
But, my heart just screams and begs for things
like time and things of such.

The little things I'm needing.
Just little, thoughtful things, 
not the fancy houses 
or the cars and diamond rings.

Maybe I'm just greedy.
I should be satisfied.
So I will do just like I should.
My feelings I will hide.

Perhaps I am too different.
I feel my heart can't show.
I fear I'll always be this way...
deep in sorrow when no one knows. 

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The Burning Within

Embedded in every aspect of life, blood.
Wrath rips souls to shreds for worldly causes.
Plentiful tears upon forever flood.
Returning an empty vessel, man, to ashes.

Blackened hearts manifest their loathing.
Brother competing with brother for greed.
Envy destroys the mind, with covetous lusting.
Worldly ways birth another bad seed.

Every aspect of breathing proceeds with caution.
Trust is lost in planes of angry strife.
Ambiance dreams in self-satisfaction.
Mankind enters adulthood flawed by life.

Odium thrives, falsly justified by differences. 
Compassion too soon lost feeds fearful thinking.
Evil forces busily shuttle interferences.
Clawing, character against character, chafing.

But…there was a crucifixion.
God’ Son came to earth, a son of woman.
Resolved to cleanse hate’s affliction.
Justice serving forgiveness to every man-

Each eternal soul was bought by Jesus’ blood,
He washed sinful ways; set man’s pure goal.
God’s loving sent in everlasting flood.
Renewed, He embraces each righteous soul.

© February 19, 2011
Dane Smith-Johnsen

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there’s only a very supreme segment of society who get it
This ain’t a planet, it’s just a floating orb formed of “sh*t
Now pathetic people are pissing on it and it’s going to turn into mud
Yet and still human beings are running around afraid of a flood

A flood?  Are they delusional is what I’d like to know?
Because a flood ain’t gonna compare to the fire and snow
What Job went through with locusts and boils will seem like nil
And quite frankly, I’ve had my fu***ng fill

I’m tired, I’m exhausted, I’m played out and weary
And a one world government is making me leery
“The New World Order” frightens me but not as much as Mack
Oh, Mack’s the dude down the street who lives in a makeshift shack

He only frightens me because he ain’t afraid
And he might also know from what this planet was made
My Grandson may inherit a world where peace and pride are a thing of the past
And if people keep perpetually puking and pissing on this puny planet it simply cannot last
       © 2011.…Phreepoetree   ~free cee!~ 

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A Famous Old Lady

There once was an old lady
A cautious one was she
But she still drove her motor-car
At the age of one-oh-three

She was feared, and yes, respected
On every county road
'Cause she drove down the center-line
And in "white-knuckle" mode

And if you were behind her
You were certain to be late
Because she always raced along 
At the speed of twenty-eight

All up and own our county roads
Where forty is the norm
She steadfastly maintained twenty-eight
Past forest, field, and farm

Well, then, one day it happened
I won't forget the day
She drove into a wagon
Piled high with bales of hay

The wagon slid across the road
Cut down a 'lectric pole
The sparking set the hay on fire
Her car did one full roll

She wasn't realy injured,
But quite irate, they say
The wagon she rear-ended
Was in her right of way!

Insurance settled out of court
Details were never heard
The farmer simply grins and says
"The figure was absurd"

No longer does he transport hay
Or even grow the stuff
His cattle-barn sits idle nnow
'Cause he has cash enough

Oh, he still plants a garden
For just himself and wife
Fresh veggies do taste better
As they ease their way though life

The lady's in an old-folks home
Down by the Middle Creek
I think she's doing very well
Her birthday was last week

Her party made the T.V. News
She's reached a hundred-five
She'll probably live a few more years
'Cause now she does not drive!

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The most difficult part of the day is the dawning
I sail through the rest of the day with ease
When the nighttime arrives I fear the morning
And pray that four hours flies by like a breeze

The kind of breeze that wipes the sweat from your brow
Not a gusty wind that musses one’s hair
An easy and breezy blow that only the afternoon can endow
But from four A.M. until eight life seems unfair

First it’s the radio, then music and the TV.
I’m up three hours before the sun takes its bow
But in those early hours it’s not easy to be me
And repeatedly I ask what I’ll do now

I hear people sing of peace and the sunshine’s grace
They tell me about the happiness for me so long ago faded
Then I look in the mirror to see a grizzly face
And I need a shave but my mood is too degraded

Shave, s*it, I’m lucky if I can get out of bed
Many people sail through the morning on an open course
While I suffer the crazy thoughts inhabiting my head
And if the day deals me delirium its morning is the source
© 2012  copyright PHREEPOETREE…..~free cee!~

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Spanish Eyes

Inside my mind to my tomorrows I look
Straight ahead with no forks on my road
I can't look back as my past will hurt more
A corner I desire to rid this corrode

Dreams of many I have to live life to the full
To be as I should to be a soul in ones heart
Around so many corners cul-de-sacs appear
What does it take for ones life to restart

Then came the day as I travelled life's road
Freely I glanced as the corner became near
I turned into my unknown, not knowing what's ahead
Intrepidness abounds, living can be a fear

Through a window I view, absorbed at what I see
Spanish Eyes of beauty, musically we share
A Heart of Lothian, allures us both
Leaving this Highlander, in notable stare

For the first time in my life I can see another me
My tomorrows are now alive no longer I now wane
Her words like lyrical music, have melted my frozen heart
No longer that lonely road, there's still life in my veins

There will be many corners, of which we'll turn together
As I wave goodbye to my past, I remember it's many cries 
Our future is what we'll make of it
All because I looked into her Spanish Eyes

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Time is such an illusion,
though we deal with it each day.
But each of us must deal with
time in very different ways.

Some people try to buy time,
and some don't have enough.
Some people have so little time,
and some have way too much.

Some are asked to give the time,
while other have to take it.
Some will have to save some time,
and some find ways to make it.

Sometimes we see time dragging,
sometimes we watch it fly.
Sometimes we try to beat the time,
sometimes it passes by.

Yes time is just an illusion,
and it changes every day.
And each of us will notice
time, in very different ways.

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What people say

As people tell me it shall be alright,
I see the sun bringing forth morning light.
I have to survive this strange twist of fate,
I get up to find I have wiped clean the slate.

The world lately have been a little rough,
I try to be positive but find it is tough.
If I can simply make it through this day,
Maybe the world will start to spin my way.

It’s not that I don’t have enough hope,
It appears like my fate hangs from a rope.
The noose tightens and squeezes out life,
I can’t see the beauty when I’m lost in the strife.

Still I feel I have it much better than most,
I see parts disappear I seem like a ghost.
I take a step forward and two back,
I can’t see what is, only what I lack.

I try to break free yet the world still spins,
I count up the losses and hope for more wins.
A couple kind words and I shall be on my way,
Perhaps I can see life in a different way?

The sun retreat from the vast blue sky,
I look up above to view a lone bird fly.
Into the colors that explode all around.
A curtain of darkness drops without a sound.

After a while it is getting quite dark,
Stars shine like the peace in my heart.
I seem to have survived another day,
I’ll be alright just as people do say.

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Your laxity will encourage the pirate
     Do not go in slumber, act, act, act

Crying over your destiny will not help
               If this doesn’t work, do that.

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Living with Mother Nature's Bruise

We turned to each other when we heard on the news
Our daughters place of work, enduring mother nature's bruise
She worked on an island now swamped with wrath
To her we now travel to retrace her last path

To go there blind never knowing if she breathes
Thoughts think the worst as we subconsciously grieve
Our daughter, our life, as we make plans to depart
Facing hours of torment as our minds tear apart

To this island we head where she enjoys life to the full
Thinking back to her young years, learning in school
This paradise as she calls it, in the Indian Ocean
Our minds picture, her love to live notions

We step of the plane into a world far from home
Praying we find her, dead or alive, to never roam
To the north of the island, Aceh is it's name
Is this where we find her, with no one to blame

We reach the village, it's where our daughter calls home
Teaching the youngsters English along the beaches they combed
We wander dazed and confused, joining the crying and the grieving
Emotional rescuers surround us, they just keep on believing

Hand in hand we stare hoping, as our eyes glimpse the lost
Our daughters not there, as we join the emotional exhaust
Suddenly I feel a tugging on my sleeve
Lady lady, you my teachers mama, come with me please

Looking down, my eyes cascading with tears
A beautiful young girl, momentarily relieving my fears
Lady lady, please please, come with me please
To a makeshift hospital she takes us, our hearts so in unease

To a door we arrive, she cries, mama's teacher mama's teacher
As she is led away by the hospital preacher
We are greeted by a doctor, taken through corridors of death
The relieving earlier felt, now replaced by inner reft

The stench of death drifts, lost souls we feel crying
Resonating sounds echo, the last breaths of the dying
Cubicle after cubicle, every curtain our hearts run
In broken English, is she the one, is she the one

The second curtain from the last, the doctor once again opens
Despair and tears increase, parents lost in their hoping
Before us lies, a broken twisted bandaged soul
The tattoo on her ankle, I cry Nicole, it's our Nicole

Engulfed with emotions our cheeks streaming with tears
Viewing the earlier posters, parents losing their fears
Living this moment, realising their daughter has lived
As we look back to the pictures, knowing families are sieved

Words we will remember until the day we are gone
That moment we heard, is she the one, is she the one

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A Brief Encounter

While basking in the sun at Sarasota Bay A couple approached Cathie and me Nicest two people you'll ever want to meet Welcomed us to the land of the free They were from the town of Elmira, NY A couple of miles south of the border A small world when you really think about it Us guys are one and two in that order Sadly we didn't even catch their names No matter, we were really impressed Two of the warmest most charming individuals As they welcomed their Canadian guests We really wish we could meet them again It proves I'm right on with my belief There's a bunch of nice people wherever you go But our encounter was far too brief © Jack Ellison 2013

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Blue Runs Through Me True

If i was born a crayon
My colour would run its length
It would be of Saltire Blue
My countries colour gives me strength

We are the colour of the sky
It looks down on you and me
Its the colour of our flag
That flies the pride in me

If i was born a crayon
It would always be coloured blue
Just look to my veins
Blue runs through me true

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The Quakers, being religiously persecuted, set sail from expatriated England;
they were the first settlers to reach the shore of New England: a free land!
Later the Puritans came and settled in other eastern, bustling colonies
seeking the same religious freedom, but their urge was stronger than dreams.

Many moved westward on foot, on horseback and on overloaded wagons...
exploring the American wilderness plundered by indigenous Indians;
they searched for grassland everywhere, to let their cattle roam and graze;
first they built wooden shacks on vast, lush prairies full of Queen Ann's Lace. 

And out of this American westward expansion, came the fearless pioneers,
who sought gold mines...despite the wild cowboys causing troubles
with heavy drinking and desire for unscrupulous women, seeking money and pleasure, 
who served them more whisky and lured them to a room with a demeaning measure.

Beyond the Rocky Mountains' and the Appalachians Mountains' skies,
these diligent pioneers obtained wealth with sweat and sacrifices...
changing and shaping the wild landscapes of arable land,
avoiding the drudgery of getting stuck in mud and sand.

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First Date Thoughts and After Dinner Mints

If you thought me insane, it'd be a start...

If you thought me funny, a joke...

But if you were to think simply nothing of me...

I'd eventually go up in smoke.

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The World's Big Apple

From an awesome fountain, teeming with life
Out of her depths arose a city of lights
Built upon the shoulders of native sons
A place of hope, liberty, and freedom invites

For centuries her gates have been open wide
Welcoming hoards of strangers from afar 
Bringing multiple cultures, traditions, cuisines and skills
Now a “melting pot”, a bright, twinkling star

Her people once thought of as cold, and uncaring 
On broad streets, and alleys, the death toll was high
Now a change of heart for the better is born in
The world's "Big Apple" reaching to the sky

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Widened Eyes White

Perspiration beads my beleaguered brow,
running in rivulets down cheeks aglow.
A hazy miasma the air does plough,
electric energy begins to flow. 

Distant rumblings, crowned palm trees start to shake,
gorgeously lush green fronds partner their dance.
Waves rippling the ground harbinger earthquake,
eerie silence, then lightning’s jagged lance.

An earth shrieking crescendo tears dark skies,
a tsunami of sound deafens each mind.
Birds of Paradise scream with fearful cries,
as two tectonic plates viciously grind.

Silence resumes, a young friend lifts his head,
widened eyes white within a dusky den.
I speak, “See brother we live we’re not dead,
dispela wantok bilong Jackson Ken.” 

I lived in Papua New Guinea for four years in the 1990’s.
The earthquake was 6.5 on the Richter scale, epicentre within 50 mile away.
Jackson Ken is a young Papua New Guinean man whom I befriended and who ended 
up working for the company that I was managing. 
The last line is Pidgin English, widely spoken in P.N.G., its root bases are German, 
Dutch and ‘modified’ English. It basically means that this fellow/man (dispela, which 
is me) is a cousin brother (wantok, usually associated with another member of your 
own village) belonging (bilong) to Jackson Ken.

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The Key

I know I'm not the
I've tried to go the
right direction.
When the path is not
its brightest
It's hard to see

What lesson should
be learned,
When I see this much
If this is
opposition, not
What's the answer to
the question?

©2014 Honestly JT

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The most difficult part of the day is the dawning
I sail through the rest of the day with ease
When the nighttime arrives I fear the morning
And pray that four hours flies by like a breeze

The kind of breeze that wipes the sweat from your brow
Not a gusty wind that musses one’s hair
An easy and breezy blow that only the afternoon can endow
But from four A.M. until midnight life seems unfair

First it’s the radio, then music and the TV.
I’m up three hours before the sun takes its bow
But in those early hours it’s not easy to be me
And repeatedly I ask what I’ll do now

I hear people sing of peace and the sunshine’s grace
They tell me about the happiness for me so long ago faded
Then I look in the mirror to see a grizzly face
And I need a shave but my mood is too degraded

Shave, sh*t, I’m lucky if I can get out of bed
Many people sail through the morning on an open course
While I suffer the crazy thoughts inhabiting my head
And if the day deals me delirium its morning is the source
© 2012 copyright PHREEPOETREE…..~free cee!~

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Stand Up

Stand up for the broken,
'Cause they are people too.
With hearts and souls in ruin,
They just want to be like You.

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O chiming bells of midnight,...
gladly announce Jesus' joyful birth;
see how the Heavens' stars shine...
to glorify the most glorious One!

Unpleasant is the cold December' air,
and a manger is the perfect shelter
away from the frost and the gelid wind;
see how He smiles as all the angels sing!

Come shepherds, bring along your sheep,
to warm up a King whose heart is so meek;
and as the Wise Men kneel down in divine adoration,
I watch the gifts in their hands with much trepidation!

O chiming bells of midnight...echo through my starry valley,
and cheer up this silent town that offers its true serenity;  
and if snowflakes fall and make all the stars seem too far,
my lamp will brighten up the path and lead me to the Messiah! 

Entered in Carolyn Devonnshire's contest, "Christmas in your town"

Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci

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It is so difficult to write about one's beliefs, 
On the Freedoms and Liberty we have.
Throughout our history events are replete,
Of the ones who have died, our Freedoms to save.

I go back in time when I look at our past,
And wonder if our children will see.
The pain and strife born in Freedom's birth,
And the lives that have been sacrificed for Liberty.

The Revolution started all the fuss,
When King George wanted his taxes.
It got us the Freedom we used for all,
And lives to this day when we talk of the "Evil of Axis".

We've had to fight as a people united,
By cause, or strife, or enemy attack.
From 1812 to Afghanistan,
For Freedom and Liberty to stay on track.

There have been too many wars,
And battles in name have never been few.
Like Chateau Thierry, Iwo Jima, and even Tet,
Where our countrymen have paid their dues.

We have had the plights of other concerns, 
That many around the world don't construe,
As a helping hand to all of them,
Except when they need us to.

Some say "Why send an Aircraft Carrier to a blighted zone,
Where people need all kinds of medical support"?
They forget that one of those ship is a floating city in itself,
With aircraft, hospitals, doctors, and our country's flag it will sport.

Then there is the overwhelming clamor,
Of those who want to come here to live and stay.
They know so little of our history,
Only that Freedom and Liberty is our way.

They want that Freedom for themselves as well,
And a Liberty which will let them choose.
They see us as a beacon then,
When their own freedoms they all but lose.

Life, Liberty, The Pursuit of Happiness,
The words our Founding Fathers swore...
Are Actions we take for granted each day,
With the Freedoms which we adore.

What does Freedom and Liberty mean?
It's just as plain as plain can be.
Because I want the Liberty to live my life,
And have the Freedom to wear it on my sleeve.

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Whether you're Christian, 
Or Muslim, or Jew,
You are my neighbor, 
And I truly love you.

Let us not quarrel
About doctrine and creed,
Come, take my hand,
We'll sow harmony seed.

Look not to culture,
Or color of skin.
We share our beginning--
We're all kith and kin.

All life is sacred;
I'm sure you agree--
Your life and well being
Are precious to me.

So, come stand beside me;
I swear this is true,
You are my neighbor,
And I truly love you.  

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Memory of Bread

Whenever I smell warm loaves of bread
The mouth-watering smell gets me thinkin'
Of my childhood at my grandparents' house
And kneading bread dough in the kitchen.

When I bite into bread, fresh from the oven
The present is soon chased away,
For I'm back baking bread with my Lola
Though I can't bake my own bread today.

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Man's Best Friend

Emerging from the downtown hardware store I saw a strange funeral procession Two black limo hearses were at the front Then walked a man without expression The man had a shaggy dog on a leash A long string of people followed him All of these people were in single file That’s why I addressed the man on a whim “Forgive me for asking; I’m curious” “What type funeral procession is this”? My wife’s in the lead hearse; my dog killed her When she Bi*ched at me, he just went amiss But I see there are two hearses up front Alas, my mother-in-law was killed too When she tried to help my wife, he killed her Once my dog got mad, I knew they were through I thought for a minute; then spoke real low “I have a strange request, if you don’t mind” “Is there a chance I could borrow your dog”? Well sure, but you have to go get in line

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The Ghost and the Dream

We dreamed in a dream
That we were on the beach
The girls in costume
But the ghost was within reach

Iolanda and Danielle on the beach did they stand
Whilst Karen and Barbara, skipped with Carolyn in hand
Unknown to them, they were being watched from a far
A ghostly figure with a lengthy scar

The very next morning, at breakfast they were
Eating cheese covered noodles, in sight of the ghost with the scar
To the balcony they retired, sun bathing naked as be
As the ogling ghost, looked over the balcony to see

In strategic display, the straw hats were in place 
So that the Souper girls would never be disgraced
But who is the ghost that all these girls see
This figure of white, at their balcony

Their day turns to night, into the town they head
For drinks and a meal, and then they retire to bed
But in the deep of the night, there is a cry and a shout
As all the girls wonder, what was that all about

In the morning they discovered, someone fell in their pool
A peeping tom was reported, someone was just playing the fool
The sad thing is, that they never discovered who
So when they all go to sleep, watch out for the BOO!

< Taken from Carolyn's dream, and for some of the ladies on the Soup 
        Iolanda, Danielle, Karen, Barbara and of course Carolyn >

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Mortal Angels

Mortal Angels as people are unemployed these days
Ask help for certain Mortal Angels
Today and everyday
They will not refuse to assist you


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It's another morning and I'm so fortunate
To awaken and enter another day
I reflect for a few moments
And remember the ones who strayed

For many a reason this has happened
Mans inhumanity to man is one
Car jacking in many cultures
Or the bullet from many a gun

Rapists, paedophiles and murderers
No care for the victims they claim
Be it needle, chair or rope
Taken out should be our aim

And now I speak of the gangs
Their bravado speaks volumes to them
Peer power within their families
In my eyes they'll never be men

To the politicians I care not to look
Never tarring them all the same
It's the ones that lie through their teeth
Power and riches their illegal fame

The next morning I awake once again
And reflect on the decent out there
Much time I can reflect about them
To the good I can always fare

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What effect has envy on soul

Envy begets in the soul a want of charity for our neighbor
Produces a spirit of detraction
Backbiting and


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Ode to Self

Joy and laughter
Fill your heart
Embrace beauty
Found within 

Love and passion
Fill a void
Embrace romance
Loneliness is sorrow 

Lust and sin
No escape
Embrace temptation
You're only human 

You are strong
You feel weak
Embrace emotions
Express yourself 

You are you
I am me
Embrace difference 
Welcome indifference  

Take the good
With the bad
Embrace reality
Of life itself

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                                                 YOU TAUGHT ME

You taught me the difference,
Twixt right and wrong,
And helped me to find,
Where I truly belong.

You taught me that honor,
Love and respect,
Is much more important,
Than casual sex.

You taught me to earn,
The things that I own,
To take pride in a job,
Well done on my own.

You taught me to smile,
When I found no reason;
You taught me to laugh,
In spite of the treason,

That I had experienced,
In life's cold, hard school,
Feeling abused,
And used as a tool.

You gave me confidence,
In a world of confusion,
And though there were times,
I'd resent your intrusion,

I just want to say,
That I'm glad you were there,
Each time that I stumbled,
To show me you care.

                                                      Judy Ball

Even though they don't appreciate it when they're growing up, when they have kids 
of their own they always come back and say thanks.
Mine did.
Thanks to you Sherry for saying it.
It means a lot.

For The Right Time Contest by Michael J. Falotico

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F***ing to the rhythm
of compulsive lying
But not giving a s***
‘cause we know we’re all dying

Corruption of love
all temptation and sin
Condemnation to Hell
only makes her grin

Romancing your mind 
making your heart pound
The guilt sleeps in your brain
not making a sound

Just the purr of her body 
draws your attention
Then you are fully addicted
to her bad intentions

She knows what she does
and she’s f***in’ good at it too
Just watch yourself crumble
her next victim is you

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    Scorching sun,
Settling skyscraper
     Streams of streets,
Sirens sighing, Skinny sissies

awoh awoh

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Temerity has become the greed-follicles that puncture peacefulness in human life.
Extruding tangled spires across the earthen lands like trees ready to fall and crush.
Power seekers boldly trample upon the complacent, seldom knowing meekness.
Tromping over the forgiving folks like a huge social machine rousting in life’s brush.

Uninvolved masses passively watch it all on the news through biased reviews.
Frantic citizens of the world live in economic quandary…seemingly helpless.
Leaders frame in their wealth maneuvering their way through the very laws they created.
Self-service at the expense of taxpayer’s, trust lost to dishonesty while honors regress.

Intentions once professed become lost inklings of wholesome promises forgotten.
They walk upon the souls of those they were chosen to lead abandoning emotions.
Tears fall, but they are not their own.  Not now.
When, then can the righteous man find solace and escape from life’s commotions?

Is it only death that brings a tortured man to peace as he stands before his creator?
As long as there is hope that good will overcome evil, man can survive the dread.
Hope lives as mortals pray that greed be set aside and understanding lead to peace.
Meanwhile, altruistic hearts work to promote better living as millions are fed.

Where is the reckoning that surely must bring a just end to temerity?
Can self-control contain the angry masses when indifferences prevail?
No relief is found except what comes on that final day…the last judgment.
Forgiveness frees; God is love; sing we then, “All Hail Let Peace Prevail.”

© May5, 2011
Dane Smith-Johnsen

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Appreciation of Freedom

In this democratic country, there has been discussions of this
A Mosque to be built, near Ground Zero their wish
Through their depths of despair, New Yorkers have spoken out
But democratic they'll be, so proud through their doubt

This is what makes a city, at a time like this
To see past the hate, and allow the neighbourly bliss
The following needs to be confirmed in this country of the free
Freedom for it's people, and to do what desires thee

Where ever this Mosque is built, in the surroundings of city life
Unite it's neighbourhood, never turn to previous strife
Next door could be a butchers, a nightclub or a bar
For their doors will never be closed, they'll always be ajar

In New York City, this metropolis that never sleeps
No longer will it see disaster, no more shall it weep
For if you desire to mingle, appreciation of freedom shall play it's part
Become true Americans, build it's future and be it's heart

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Imagine You're There

Close your eyes and imagine you're there
You're naked and shaved as they stand and stare
Watching your loved ones herded away
As you await your fate, it's their lies that say

Earlier that day we disembarked from the train
We're in a place called Auschwitz in the pouring rain
An unfamiliar smell hangs in the air
This feeling I get, is of total despair

We enter a building where clothes and shoes lie in mounds
On the periphery of me I hear screaming sounds
Families, fathers mothers daughters and sons
In our Hebrew tongue, why are we the chosen ones

We exit this building and enter another
Where we are told to remain calm and await our shower
No water is felt as the quietness delivers
Motionless some lie, as I await my deathly shiver

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Why do people tell untruths,
And lie about their neighbors,
Spinning tales of guilt and shame.
With tongues as sharp as sabers?

Why spend the time alotted you,
Destroying reputations,
Causing undue anguish 'mongst,
Your friends and close relations?

For one lie just begets one more,
And then the ball starts rolling,
And soon you've told so many lies,
The thing just won't quit growing;

And lies don't just produce more lies,
Oh No, there's that and more,
There's Hate for all the things you said,
And then Revenge for sure;

So lies are not just little things,
They hurt whoever's mentioned.
It doesn't really matter,
What at first was your intention;

For words have power, don't forget,
So guard your tongue with care,
For once the words have passed your lips,
It's said for foul or fair;

And life is such a fleeting thing,
Each day that passes, forfeit.
We really can't afford to waste,
One single, precious moment.

                                                                     Proverbs 10:18

                                Proverbs 10:20

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Let's Raise A Glass

LET'S RAISE A GLASS There's theories about how our life began From sea as some have said Some say we've all descended from apes Look at the shape of our head Some noggins have ape-like structures More obvious in some than others Guess we're probably related after all Ancestors, sisters and brothers Sometimes prompted to swing from a tree Perhaps that's a pretty good sign Constantly scratching our armpits as well While hanging from yonder vine Not trying to demean the human race But d'ya think we've advanced at all Still fighting wars, still killing and maiming Basically the same crap overall Well we don't really have an alternative So let's all try to live in peace And raise a glass to a much better future When hostilities finally cease © Jack Ellison 2014

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Love Beach

Hot summer beach weather,
everywhere you look, everyone's in groups or couples.
Children playing and screaming with joy,
no one is excluded from fun and relaxation.

A trio works together to dig a deep hole on the shore,
father and son do the same further in, but got bored.
A group of kids play in the shallow waves by the pier,
smaller children are hesitant to their new surroundings.

Forecasts say it's nintey degrees today,
beach day, all day, waters are cold, time to jump in.
I fell asleep on the beach, bad thing to do,
so don't get too comfortable, espeacially if there's no one to wake you up.

A couple lies in front of me, he's in love,
it's so obvious, he finds reasons to touch her.
She's tanning, he watches her with compassion,
*sigh*, the happiness of Love, the romaticism of Love on the Beach.

It's getting late, the couple left hours ago,
children are splitting up with new friends to go home.
I stay and wait for the magic to begin, the beauty,
but the sunset magic is not complete, for i don't have my Romeo by my side yet.

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Some people say that God's a myth,
They don't believe He's there.
Others say that if He is ,
Then He just doesn't care.

They look at all the suffering,
Throughout the world around us.
Sickness, pain, starvation, war,
It fills them with disgust,

To think that there are those of us,
Who love Him and believe,
That The Almighty Father God,
Won't leave us here bereaved.

They want to blame it all on Him,
Though they don't think He's there;
But if He does not exist,
Why do they rail and swear?

Why hate someone who isn't there,
Who does not exist?
Why waste their time and energy,
And rave and shake their fists,

Just because we love our God,
Who is a God of love;
A God who is not filled with hate,
Who doesn't push and shove.

Other people worship gods,
That they must serve in fear.
Gods who threaten certain death,
For those who fail to clear,

The hurdles set before them,
By their arduous task master;
But people think them cool because,
They're different from The Master;

He who created all things good,
Surrounded us with beauty,
And gave us total freedom
To choose to do our duty.

If my God does not exist,
I've not wasted your time.
Don't take away my freedom,
By making it a crime,

To love my God as you love yours,
For we all serve a master.
I serve a God who loves me back,
Gives peace amid disaster.

I do not have to serve Him,
In fear and trembling,
And I'm here to tell you,
Such love is humbling.

You don't believe because you can't,
Or you just don't want to.
You have your rights and I have mine,
I won't lose Him just for you.

                                          Judy Ball

Let's not elect a President to the White  House that will make religious freedom a crime.

For Frank H.'s Contest "What I Believe Is Worth Fighting For"

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To Mix Trends With Creativity to Bring Prophecy

Ah I love being creative and having some wit to bring people to my blog,
These little holidays are causing so many views for my site stats to log,
I am creative and just so full of wit to bring others prophecy to see,
I know many will be woken because of this sly intelligence inside of me,

I thought to mix trends with my creative, artsy and poetic little side,
To bring others to the gospel and join the holy spirit  God ride,
This is not vanity but only telling you I had a sly and little plan,
To use the trends to bring people to God as fast as I possibly can.

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Beyond Fences

If the course of my life was determined
By every choice that I make,
It just might suffice to be wary
Of whatever path that I take.
I already know that great power
Has brought many great men to fall.
Would it be wise then to find peace
While not having power at all?

If the joys in my life were dependent
On what side of the fence that I stand,
Maybe I should just leave the fields
And find for myself a new land.
For I know that direction is blessing;
It is wise to stay on the slow track,
And shooters will target the chief men
While sparing the slaves in the back.

Beyond the fences is where I stand
Beyond the reach of human hands.

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Tall Tales

With muse in hand I must come up with great stories
That it keeps it's seeker longing for more of it's caption
free verse sonnet haiku or just stopping on by
I'm sure that there's something you may find very interesting

Tribute To Writers Here At

Also Entry For 
Brian Strand's
Poulter's Measure
GL All

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                                     THE WATERMELON THIEVES

Once when I was oh so young,
My mom decided she,
Would show us where some melons grew,
Beneath some large orange trees.

A farmer man she knew of,
Grew them there she said,
So folks would leave alone the fruit,
That grew above their head.

The melons were okay to take.
Just let the oranges be,
So off we went to pick some,
My mom, my sis and me.

I was only five years old,
So I sat in the car,
With Mama's friend who drove us there,
No light from moon or stars;

Because the orange trees blocked their light,
And I was sore afraid,
Because it was so dark in there,
Hidden in the glade.

Suddenly I saw my mom,
Running like the wind,
Right behind her came my sis,
A melon 'neath each limb.

Then in a flash my mom went down,
She tripped and broke her melons.
"Run Ruth, Run!" I heard her say,
They're runnin' and they're yellin'.

Mother! Wait! I heard Sis call,
For she had gone down too,
Stepped in a rotten one and fell,
They both were in a stew.

A flashlight beam then pierced the dark,
They made the car just barely;
And we took off just like a shot,
Took out the fence gate squarely.

We made it back home just past one.
They laughed until they cried.
I was so young I just sat there,
Agape with my eyes wide.

My mother had skinned both her shins,
My sister, she smelled funny,
Because that melon she stepped in,
Was rotten and real funky.

Some thought my mom as mothers go,
Not what you'd call high scoring,
But I can tell you life back home,
For sure was never boring.

                                                     Judy Ball


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Another Kind of Man

To be intrusive to another's mind to taste what the hells going on
To be different from other men as they sing a different song
For this, this blind man seeks to be the seeker to see and scan
To go inside the mind of another, another kind of man

History has shown and reminded of the monsters that have been
This trait of human man, as each generations scene
What makes us be so different, to hurt whom we care and love
Is it some form of weakness we allure, against family loving doves

As I enter their minds even deeper, the appalling rise to view
Standing proud in their deathly mask, their hurting of others true
Rapists, serial killers and dictators, or even the family man
What possesses their power to indulge, that this blind man can't even scan

My thoughts go out to you all, who have suffered at the hands of man
Evolution is not the answer, to really be who they can
This blind man he said to me, if I look into you what will I find
My reply to him was simple, I'm just a different kind 

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We All Become Each Other

We all become each other
When we read each others writes
Its because we all learn from each other
That in our mind they turn out right

We all become each other
Its the nature of the feast
The poetry forms the words we use
On paper they are released

We all become each other 
On this community on the net
Names with images, some bio's follow
With time we all inter met

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Colonial Skyline

From the heart of their country to a new world they did sail
Over an expanse of ocean through storms and gales 
They settled in New Amsterdam, this Dutch colonial place
To create a new world in their progressional space

Many years later after conflicts took their toll
New York was born, under British control
The gate to this city is passed by a lady so proud
A gift from the French, freedoms torch raised to her clouds

The Big Apple, this city in the year 2001
Where infidels and cowards tried to bring this gem down
But deep from their depths from the loss of their Twin Towers
Feel its heart and strength, its unity powers

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Thank You

I don't know you, yet In my heart I know you well You are the American who puts his country first You've left your home and loved ones on this soil And are fighting for the freedoms for which we thirst I don't know you, but I love you just the same You are my father, brother , and the boy next door The lover, grocer, and the immigrant who believes As in wars of yesterday, the richest and the poor When you're frightened, I'll hold your hand And whisper my thanks in a melody of tears Know you are thought of in these dark days You sacrifice remembered through the years

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Who you are

You know who you are
You are secure who you are
If you accept who you are
Will take a lot to knock you off balance

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The River we call the Ness

This river I talk of just has to be seen In it's meandering turns it's simply a dream No matter the season it's flow simply delights Daffodil lined banks of green in typical springtime sight Whether it be azure blue or grey, it's mirror of colours ooze Enticing your eyes to witness as eventually your mind will choose As you see the salmon leaping and the hungry seals in seek The scenery that surrounds this river, will draw your visit, meet Like many stretches of water, if it's in your heart you'll admire If you have witnessed as much as I, you will never ever tire To know where we call this river, in time your answer will be For to adventure to it's meanderings, you'll be standing beside me

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Semaj, Knowledge of your Past

Look at your man
And look inside him deep
Has he lived for hundreds of years
And seen things, that would make you weep

Take a moment and pause
And think of the son of Kade
He came back to his past
And seen your tomorrow made

He has stood in moments of history
Sadly, he has seen what man has done
To see what we do to another
Believe me, man has never began

To walk past Calvary
And see mothers sons who died
Knowing they had a reason
These fallen ones who tried

Into history you slowly march
Involved in so much crime
There is somebody out there
Who will decide you've had your time

Believe the son of Kade
For he has seen your past in true
You can go to sleep and dream
Until its in front of you

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You talk, but all I hear is you have nothing to say.
I'm just trying to make myself into a person I don't hate.
Fumbling for a character when all the world's a stage.
Shrieking at an audience deafened by cliches.

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Plaidoirie for a 'Prince' of Jaffna - Part Two

                      Part Two

A Prince may not bring dishonour to his kingdom
   In times of strive for the sake of Christendom;
If he seeks spurious honours to feather his nest
   And alienates a people who die for freedom.

A King is he who in high danger opts for sacrifice
   Like Kattabomman seeking no excuse nor artifice
Met the East India Company’s Collector all alone
   And fought his valiant way through gunfire malice.

The history of Tamil kingdoms in all ages gone by
   Teaches us the same lesson made proverbial by
An Ettappan who in his insatiable envy of grandeur
   Caused the ultimate Tamil Prince to hang high.

We live in a world where politicians are the real Princes
   Who wear no crowns but their ministerial pince-nez;
Yet other captains struggle against such fait accompli
   And in jungles forge a human bulwark of chances.

It’s not the cherry on the icing that makes a cake
   If underneath the slender icing over a lake
Wild worms bore at the crust raised in protection,
   Won’t people then take a Kshastriya for a fake.

If you want to be king then let your voice be true
   Renounce all wish to be ordained a true blue;
Let the people choose what they want for a crown
   If they need you, will they not call upon you.

Uneasy the head which wears the realm’s crown
   While the people fret and fume and frown;
See how caretaker John usurps the Lion-Heart’s throne:
   Uneasier the head become the butt of a clown.

Lay aside all thought of fame
   In the quest for a feudal name;
He who assumes an ancient title
   Must prove worthy of the same.

© T.Wignesan March 2006 – Paris, France (from the sequence/collection: Words for a Lost Sub-Continent )

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Below the Palms

On golden sands hands on hips
Faces close, moist touching lips
Orchestral sounds of natures bliss
Two hearts desire their joining wish

Under palm tree shade, two in lie
Above even higher azure blue skies
Kisses lead to caress in softly touch
Hearts pounding in desire so much

Naked to bare amidst natures sounds
So splendid they arouse on sandy grounds
Whistling leaves in admiring wave
Bodies impressed in touched engrave

Echoes of passion fill this islands air
Waves gently lap, their way to declare
Resonating sighs, romance shared by two
Blissful love can be, and be so true

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You chastise me continually,
At home, even in the car;
What I should do, what I should say,
Who do you think you are.

You want me to be perfect,
Do everything just right,
And if I'm not you'll tell me,
So I try with all my might.

Not that I'm a door mat,
You can't push me around,
I'll try and try and try again,
And then I'll stand my ground.

If something doesn't turn out right,
You know you're not to blame,
So you turn to me with ire,
And curse and call me names.

It matters not I'm sorry,
If indeed I'm wrong,
It matters not my innocence,
If blame does not belong,

With me in any shape or way,
The lecture will go on,
Reiterate, discuss, debate,
Till self esteem is gone.

Be perfect and you say again,
Be perfect just like you;
But I'm not and cannot be,
I'm just me through and through.

I tried to please you, yes I did,
I tried with all my might;
But that's not good enough for you,
So you go fly a kite.

(some people couldn't be pleased if you peed in their ice cream)

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She and I, Await to See

I stand in awe at the arrivals gate As she walks towards me, my heart now waits In-trepidation now sinks in My hands to touch her Spanish skin I feel a feeling never known before Emotions of love ooze through my pores Closer she walks into my world I joy to witness her hair being twirled I understand after we've talked for a while Mitigating circumstances, but we still smile Tomorrows take their time because of this As we continue our holiday, in hope and wish I reflect on the days that we spent together How happy she was in the Scottish weather Now she has returned, I'm again left all alone I hope and pray Scotland will be her new home I meditate, contemplate, in understanding to believe In wonder muse I marvel when we met my eyes did see As she walked towards me, my heart now awaits Will she ever return, through the arrival gates

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FREE CEE ignore it if it RINGS


It's strange but so many people say the same fuc*ing thing
they say “take back that necklace, that bracelet and diamond ring”
those same people hand out the very same advice
they say “that heart you thought so warm ain't very nice”

I was busy thinking about today while they were talking about tomorrow
I was hoping for kindness while her cold heart was bent on dispensing sorrow
the dreams I built on prayers were swiftly coming apart
which urged them to say “don't depend on a hardened heart”

sometimes I can't express the depression I embrace
because she says ugly things time can never erase
she tries to justify her lies with one more falsification
and fading fleetingly now is a long deceased fascination

maybe my first mistake was trying to hold on to a lie
or perhaps it was believing a romance like ours could never die
but sometimes the sun seems so bright I'm made blind by the moon
for instance that she was using a man born with a silver spoon

and so that bracelet, necklace and ring remain in her possession
although she owes me more than a singular confession
so when those people tell me to listen to what my soul has to say
all I hear is my love telling me not to simply run away

but suddenly one person says something that finally reaches my ear
and the joy we once shared turns into sadness and fear
that's when I find out that no matter how sweet love seems it can still so stalwartly sting
and that's why a pawn shop now owns that bracelet, necklace and diamond ring
     © 2012.....PHREEPOETREE ~free cee!~

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Sticky fingered Jane

Canny remember this Lass's name, but fur the poem's sake let's assume she's Jane. 'Jane ' this per wee soul had fingers lighter than a blidy feather, aw things within her sicht yea had tae tether. Wartime is no jist a time fur wurry or sorrow, Certainly no fur Jane, aw things she wanted she jist borrowed. Aye aw things she'd borrow without askin' if she could:( frae clothes pegs,newspapers an' oany flippin' type o' food. Funny thing tho' is ,she wis hard tae catch, wae Jane, things vanished, even oot o' awbidy's veggie patch. Noo this went oan fur sum munths -even a year. every week sum wee thing wid jist disappear. Everybidy jist kent is wis this lass Jane, bit ivery bidy's attempt tae catch her wis jist in vain. Yea kid be talkin tae her an' she kid steal yer blidy teeth, nae kiddin' this lass wis beyond belief. We lived in number three oor wee But'N'Ben, Jane lived in five or wis it ten? Nae matter- she lived in tapmaist flat, jist hersel' withoot luv an' no even a wee tabby cat:( No oor family didnae want tae drop her in the poo, jist teach her a lesson ma dad said he wid do. So ma Dad an'ma uncle Harry made a parcel wae a few frills, An' left it oan the neighbour's doonstairs windae-sill. Sure as itchy flees oan a wee cat's bum, it wisnae lang before Jane did come. She walked past the frilly parcel here oan the windae-ledge, ma Dad an' uncle Harry watchin' -nerves oan edge. Quick as a blidy blidy' flash, that said parcel unner Jane's airm an' oaf she dashed. Up the stairs tae her flat in number ten. dad an' uncle Harry waited fur whit they didnae ken. Suddenly the level three tap windae o' Jane's wee flat, an' oot came that undone frilly parcel like a blidy scalded cat. It landed at ma Dad an' uncle Harry's feet, whit wis in that parcel a canny easily repeat. Dad an' uncle Harry wir in fits an' tears, their laffin' muscles wir in tap gear. A wee clue tae the contents - Coo's S#!^#, stull wonderin' eh? Rhymes wae Kite. Noo cross ma hert this story is true, cos' we had a dairy roon back which had lotes o' coo's poo. As for Jane - weel she kent we knew she had fingers light, never again did she pick up parcels full of S#!^#. Aye the last wurd rhymes wae Kite The Auld Yin.

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This Blind Man Sees

I remembered the day I joined
Paradise it appeared to me
It can still be this way
But only if others can see

I am playing the blind man
I cannot touch, nor I see
As long as everyone is
Who they make out to be

I have trawled many a write
But it's the comments this blind man sees
For out there resides
Someone so different to thee

Many people talk to themselves
Some even answer back
But this blind man is just to clever
For out there, there's one who lacks

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Rise above the world

Rise above the world
You have to rise above the noise
You have to become the figure against the wallpaper of the world
You have to stand out against the background

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Love's Fire 2K11

Stroll into those heart shaped portals of fire,  
Where civilizations of souls have and  
shall be set aflame there amidst love's fire;  
Each lover, a grain of sand in love land.

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Sometimes stuff can happen,
Through no fault of your own.
You'd think all that is over,
Once you are fully grown.

People sometimes say things,
That are often taken wrong,
Then they repeat what they have heard,
But sing a different song;

And when the word gets back to you,
You can't believe your ears,
And all that comes about is pain,
Hurt feelings, anger, tears;

Because of what someone has said,
Repeating what they heard,
Though not exactly what was said,
Not stated word for word,

But only what they thought they heard.
It's what they understood.
When you repeat a tale like that,
It does nobody good;

For when you throw bad light on one,
A faint light washes back,
To the place from whence it came,
So you can trace the scat;

And though for some it takes o'er long,
We all eventually learn,
That if you stand too close to fire,
You're gonna get a burn;

So those who tend to carry tales,
Drop names and repeat stories,
Cannot be the best of friends,
They'll just compound your worries.

                                                 Judy Ball

(Scat - The poop animals drop in the woods. The sign hunters look for.)

Have you ever noticed that it's easier to learn to speak in two or more languages than it is to keep your mouth shut in one?

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Looking Back

It's the year 2112, a number that appeals to me
A century has passed at what my ancestors seen, why did generations not foresee
They had reached their twilight zone, earths grand finale
The Mayan calender had spoken in silence, as the human count tallied

Their scriptures foretold of a horror, a world in slow demise
They told of future troubles, where borders would be compromised
The seas would rise and flood the lands whilst the rains continued to fall
Starvation abounds while the rich remained in bloodied torn appal

Stench filled bodies of water, carried floating bloated masses
No care for who you lay beside, for death decrees no classes
By the year 2030, the earths population was decimated
Even the rich were thinned for the weak were underrated

If I may welcome you to my world, where cities remain so few
Metropolitan they have become, and somehow we have become so true
The place where I now reside has built icons from the past
Twin towers are now the norm, new memories that will always last

The waters never totally receded for it rained for so many years
Some people blamed the dying as they were told it was their tears
Many of us live in the clouds so close we can touch the sky
As we await the next revelation that will finally close our eyes

New stories have originated in Cairo, where archaeologists have uncovered
A doorway below the Sphinx, telling of how the human race was discovered

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The weather so cold the air is still
No sound from a bird, tree movement nil
No cars are in sight, no people walk
No cell phones jangle, no people talk

Atlanta’s winters usually gentle
Grass frozen from ice detrimental
Surrounded by this cold enclosure
Suffering from freezing exposure

Suddenly, my breath steams from chapped lips
Impacted by cold, the winter script
The car next door is coated with ice
States farther South begin to entice

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This Perfect Spot

There's a perfect spot
Just a climb from the beach
Its my desire to be there
With my blond haired peach

It's secluded and private
Is this rocky edge
Where our love of tomorrow
To her I will pledge

We will lie on our backs
Our eyes caressing the sky
Watching cotton wool clouds
Floating gently by

We will close our eyes
Open our ears to the sounds
Of natures orchestra
In symphony surround

The sun will beat down
On us two naked souls
For soon we'll be one
Is our perfect spot goal

We turn to each other
As our lips gently meet
Undulations, discovering
Our sugary sweet

We mimic the waves
As they pleasure the shore
Voicing in sync
Echoing their roar

With the cooling breeze
Serenading our skin
As we unite our love
To each other, from within

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The faithful

   Day and night I pray to the Almighty thus
Do not turn your faithful in a pile of carcass

Save them from annihilation lest one would say
             To be a faithful the cost is enormous

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It's Tradition

Dancing round the fire
Our women's breast popping out
We appease the gods with our blood
Sacrificing human as offering

Hunters worshiping ogun
Priest adoring the ifa
Farmers sowing to the Harvest God
Thd community exalt Olodumare

We live to love it
We love to accept it
Feitiish it may be
Yet it's tradition

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Our oceans and rivers, once so limpid,
have become huge dumps
for industries and sewages,
doesn't the stench make anyone sick?

Blame your inactive Congressman
for not halting the daily, illegal dumping;
do you propose an urgent ban,
or walk straight into the snare, not fretting?

Take a short walk on the beach at any hour; spot
golden trout, bluefish and shellfish dying from pollution,
writhing on the sand...this is their graveyard?
Are we an advanced civilization without any intuition?

Seabirds may be the lucky ones for instance,
to find easy food, but they might also be at risk
from the poison that's killing every kind of fish;
and how can people pass by them and still glance?

If I were running for Governor of my beautiful state,
I would stop this madness, although some may be outraged;
should I watch pollution ruin the environment and wait?
If corruption has prevailed, woe to anyone not heeding my word!  

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Forever is possible for those who believe
Some others forever, like hers, made this man grieve
Forever is a dream for those claimed certain
While for me forever is akin to a lead-lined curtain

She said “forever,” I heard the lady declare
Alas, for people like me forever is unceremoniously unfair
“forever” sometimes makes some people cry
Especially when one’s vow of forever is flaccid and a naked lie

I heard her vow “forever” but wish I had not
Because for lovers like myself forever is an unfair plot
My lover’s “forever” faded into a mist of mystery
Since for lovers such as me forever meant misery

She said “forever” but her forever offered an unfortunate fate
Until my forever became a forever filled with hate
Perhaps she voiced “forever” in a hurry and with haste
But as for me the only thing that is ever forever is nuclear waste
© 2012  copyright PHREEPOETREE… cee!~

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We Are One and the Same

Once again although we are one and the same
One strikes another in confrontational shame
The thirty eighth parallel shows that man has not lost
To discuss through weapons, no matter the cost

Diplomacy with thought, before all leaders speak
Just listen to each other as it's peace that we all seek
It's not just your own lives that you play with today
Escalation of conflict brings others their say

History tells us that no one really gains
Only generations present, will feel wars pains
No care is ever given when decisions to fight are made
Whilst we await the screaming whistles of their hostile serenade

We live in the world of conscience, mans dark abyss
Whilst the majority enjoy the light, peace is their wish
Will there ever be a day, when man may finally learn
To abide by life and decency that decent people yearn

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Forlorn and lost, without a home
He wandered on the street
His hair knew neither comb nor brush
No shoes encased his feet

His hunger told him he must eat
Though food was hard to fing
Then, in the park, a crumpled bag 
Someone had left behind

Some 'burger scraps, a few cold 'fries
It seemed like just the thing
A drink of water from the lake
Made him feel like a king

He took a nap, but soon awoke
A storm was breaking o'er
He saw the light'ning's fearsome flash
Heard thunder's mighty roar

He finally found shelter
In a closed-up storefront's door
Exhausted, shiv'ring, wet and cold
He sank down on the floor

Just then, a voice compassionate
Said softly "You poor guy
You shouldn't be out in this storm
No need to ask you why"

She took him home, and warmed him up
She saw that he was fed
And then, when all te house was quiet
She took him to her bed

As he lay there besideher
He thought "Life's not all bad
This surely is the greatest  girl
A puppy ever had"

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FREE CEE a toast to those who should roast

some people just don't know when to keep their mouths closed tight
because they know i don't want to hear what they say and that ain't right
they betray me as a matter of course set for disaster
and when they speak i can't run away any faster

they can talk to anyone they want but don't tell me about people i despise
people who don't care who weeps and who cries
they just have to flap their gums because none of them ever care
and what they do to me simply isn't fair

i don't need or want to hear what they have to say
but they talk and talk about hurtful things anyway
if they had any brains they'd know to keep their specious speach away from me
all of them acting under an utterly selfish decree

so when i see these people i feel like walking the other way
because they don't consider how i feel from what they have to say
they blabber, bother and usually boast
and all of them to me are as useless as burned day old toast
   (c) 2012.....PHREEEPOETREE ~free cee!~

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Spiritual juggernaut
blessed in angel fire,
pushed from birth, in virtue not,
into life blood pyre.

Sinister cloud haunts her soul
while the rest come and go.
Her blood, drained of most all hope.
Too few words left to sew.

The pages are left to blank.
Life blood gone haywire.
Wordsmith on extended break
to build her own pyre.

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True Growth

Dolphins and unicorns
Butterflies and rainbows
These are underlying
But not all there is to know
While facing trials and sorrow
Taking good with bad I guess
With every thought and feeling
That I’ve chosen to express
Although I see the silver
That outlines the cloudy facts
As human being I must admit
That I’m just built like that
I never could imagine
That this voice would be so hard
In fact it’s not a choice at all
I’m forced to play these cards
I’ll paint the sky with sunshine
While the system I explore
But if the day converts to rain
The storms won’t be ignored
The thunder might be muting
As in silence I release
Not meant to flood the eardrums
But to wet my soul with peace
The wrong side of the bed sometimes
Can sound just like a cockatoo
Permit this broken record or switch off
As I can never do
The place that keeps me sane within
Though sheltered far from evil
Pretentious surface smiles aside
Inside there’s great upheaval
I'd hope to stay on wishful clouds
of love until the end of days
Though realistically I know
Life doesn’t work that way

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Samaritan's Shoe

Yet,I can`t wear the Samaritan`s shoe
though I can see blood stains and wound on you,
You beckon to me for help,which is hard,
For I don`t want to go without a card.

It`s good to help your neighbor,this I knew,
Yet,I  can`t  wear the Samaritan`s shoe  ,
Blood trickling from your nose,made me ~ pity,
Treatment of your wounds is not my duty.

I feel guilty for not playing this  dice
For I would love to be in Paradise,
Yet,I can`t wear the Samaritan`s shoe,
Though my love is straight,passionate and true.

I fear police views and implication,  
`You are an accomplice in this situation`,
If it becomes a case,what would I do?
Sorry,I can`t wear the Samaritan`s shoe. 

CONTEST:"Another day in Paradise" sponsored by JENISH SOOSAI ANTHONY.

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I'm trying to be patient.
It's taken many years.
I've gotten through the toughest part.
I'm all cried out of tears.

I'm waiting for the mother
that is coming back for me.
I'm sure she will come back real soon...
She'll be will see.

I've told her how I need her.
She knows how long it's been.
She walked away 24 years ago
when I was only ten.

Some say 'Give up, it's over! '
That just could never be.
I will wait for her return
as long as there's breath in me.

I've talked to her, she knows me
She'll be back and then we'll sing
Till then I'll just be patient
I'm here..........Still Waiting. 

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Youthfulness is not about being young or old
It's about enthusiasm
When enthusiasm fades, pessimism begins
As  true Christian our hope keeps up our enthusiasm and our youth


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Maybe we are trying to hard not to try
Maybe things are supposed to be this way
With me and you, you and I
But Baby who's to say?

How two people so different can be so much alike
is something I'm not used to
True friendships are few and far between
And I believe ours is the farthest from true

So scared to admit what would seem like defeat
From this time-hardened exterior of my heart
You make me vulnerable without trying
When usually from people I drift apart

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So alone and pensive, he stares at the paved, glaring square below
admiring an elegant lady strolling by...
with a vibrant spirit in his blood, his enthusiasm will flow;
what kind of reward will he have, if he doesn't try?

Young man, have you done enough to get ahead in life?
Oh, you desire a marriage and many kids;
they will come through fortitude and sacrifice...
put aside every useless fear and beat all the odds!

Big town youngsters' dreams are awaiting release
from a heart, which will see his dream realized...
when triumph, fortune and glee will never cease;
he stands at the balcony with a look so mesmerized! 

Entered in Iolanda Scripca's contest,
" Untold Secrets "

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FREE CEE do you know where i can take a pee

                   DO YOU KNOW WHERE I CAN TAKE A PEE?

I assure all of you one thing about this universe
it's getting worse
starving tiny little ones are crying
while their daddies are busy dying

some young man decides love is something some don't 
and so he commits an atrocity most won't 
he thinks that which is false is actually true
and that's how his partner ends up black and blue

there are stars thousands of years old who where witness to it all
as the moon watched the very first star fall
meteors crashed into a planet prolifferated by extinct reptiles
on a place that pathetic people defile

this earth is nothing but a huge porto-pottie for everyone
and the pipes burst when they get over-heated by a savage sun
fecal matter is the matter and how it gets into our drinking water
as we pray for the future of our sons and our daughter

some people have no regard for nature, people or trees
and this universe is suffering from an incurable disease
hardly anyone says thank you, you're welcome or please
and this is the planet where Satan pees
   (c) 2012.....copyright PHREEPOETREE ~free cee!~

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free cee WHY CRY I

             WHY, CRY I

I wonder if my disappointment will ever dissipate?
And will my sorrow suddenly end tomorrow?
Will my life create anything but hate?
And instead of lending will I be able to borrow?

Questions are legion in a region of few solutions
There is no one wise enough to help me out
No one with eloquent enough elocution 
Only people to heap upon me further doubt

Will I ever will away the will to ask why?
And can there ever be a finale of fascination?
I wonder why I cry out to no longer cry,
when there is nothing more than further frustration?

So many questions for me to consider
While I while time away by escaping away
I suppose peace goes to the highest bidder
At least that’s what I wish wizened people would say
     © 2012 copyright PHREEPOETREE…..~free cee!~

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              THIS TOWER HAS POWER

I dwell in a place called “the tower of prayer”
within there is only one bed and one empty chair
there is no door and if you want out they won't accept any pay
the only way out of this tower is to thank Our Father every day

the tower teaches me that a man can be alone and still feel free
but that doesn't hold true for a weak man like me
they say this tower is the one and only
and it also teaches me that a man can be alone and will feel excruciatingly lonely

within this spire there are no tower mates
and each of us pay varied and sundry rates
those who pray for themselves pay more
and if you pray for others you may finally find the door

if you should one day discover yourself a resident at “the tower of prayer”
keep in mind there have already been a million souls there
almost a million people have suffered until the sequestration is done
and the amount of people who prayed His way out is only one
  © copy write 2012....PHREEPOETREE ~free cee!~

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A Mothers Love?

How can a mother not hurt
when her child cries out in pain?
How can she turn and look away
when there's so much to be gained?

If only her heart would open
and let God show the way,
to happiness and love everlasting.
For this, I'll always pray.

Is it possible to just feel nothing
towards the child you gave away?
Please say there is at least a hope
that you will love me again some day.

When I look at my child I feel love.
I could never turn my back.
But you never felt that way towards me.
Is it something that I lack?

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FREE CEE why must i be betrayed by the people i respect the most

Why must I be betrayed by people I respect the most
Everything in my life has become a contradiction
All I hear now are cowards who are quick to boast
And any respect I had for these people turned out to be pure fiction

Why must the people I consider friends treat me with enmity
When they should be eager to concede to a simple request
Why to people I consider allies all seem not to care then I deem them the enemy
And answer to the demonic voice of the devil’s behest

I have no place to hide as I used to in crowded bars
I have no place to run from people who sold themselves out for a few sheckles more or less 
I am left with a wounded lamb and a body marred by bloody scars
And only sorrow for cowards that this burdened man is left to confess

I used to have a grand design which demanded I fulfill
I used to have hope and a way to ignore selfish folk
I used to have the means, way and will
but now i'm left destitute, depressed and broke
      © 2012.....PHREEPOETREE ~free cee!~

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Draped Long

Locks of black draped long
Stockings torn scattered thong
Excited to pert pouting lips
Boots licked, slicked

Peachy skin tasted neat
Kissed to caress sweet treat
Glazed eyes in lusting cry
Tattooed temptress, undressed

Sweated runs cascading love
Shapes of thee in welcome glove
In writhing motion natures ocean
Lusting waves, crave

Passionate moans echoes groan
Loving two in wanting roam
Fetish filled fuelled now spent
Strangers lust, never repents

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Lively Poetry

I don't understand
Why you hate me so 
I didn't do anything
But I always let it go.

I'm tired of letting you 
Push me around
You've hurt my emotions
And run my life to the ground.

I wanted to stop fighting
Really, I did
But you always had to hate me
And act like a little kid.

I'm sorry if the truth hurts
Stop getting mad at me
You seem to love picking fights with me
I say, "please, just let it be!"

I'm sorry if you don't like him
I don't feel the way you do
I don't care if you hate him
He's for me and not for you.

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Mercy should've killed me

He lived to strive toward the light
He reached to touch her halo of glory
His solace and compass in coldness of night
Flighted companions in moth to flame story
Headed by perfect though blinded ambition
Placed on pedestal compound clouds
Left to be burnt beyond recognition
Grounded by hurdles and shadows of doubt
Beckoning over some lost mountain dews 
Summoned and broken in every way
Down in the dirt roads of minuscule views
Self loathed and lynching the order of day
Driven by fragile wings aflutter
Subtle assassin hypnosis in tune
Baroness flight where angel wings suffer 
Forcibly taken from lonely cocoon
Filling the lungs with breathes of love
Choking on words that once relayed trust
Ashes on white feathered wings of a dove 
Betrayal of concepts spurred to combust 
Voice box burnt in scrambled confusion
Battered in silent dark without choice
Toe end of star embossed blanket illusions
Struggling to find the way with no voice
Prettied and buffed up, only to hide
The human condition, by the sound of it
Pretty damn close to losing his mind
Grown up to rise and snap out of it
Metamorphoses mailing wings to thee
Adapting to change, forgetting to fly
Blinded and giving up hopes to live free  
Feeling uneasy when taking to sky
Accept that he would’ve done all for her
Mercy expects nothing less in return
The wonders of love obscured by a blur
Through eyes that could kill him but left him to burn

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gods of clay

Why do we sweat so to build
Magnificent ruins of marble and gold
Where poor souls are bought and sold
To tyrant lords their labors yield

Truth is lost in their rising ranks
Fattening upon tasked souls of the poor
Blind leaders blinded by their splendor
Anointed with worry over their looted banks

O! Such sweet hope drips down their snouts
They conduct poor souls to humbly follow
Leading down to bars of glorious sorrow
Forfeiting the promises their lies have bought

Fooled they follow their neon lights
Raised hands, rising pleas and deep fear
They offer their wealth, sweat and tears
To keep these brittle gods pleasant to sight

Awaiting to be redeemed they still strive
Dying slowly to keep their gods alive.

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FREE CEE i speak to sy freud couldn't figure out this freak


My meandering mind beseeches me to speak
While my body bespeaks of it being weak
My brain has become both numb and recalcitrant
And if the truth be known I am a malcontent

I used to have the capability to compute important things
I knew how much change to get when the cash register rings
Now my intellect and intelligence are both null and void
Sh*t, I’d perplex the hell out of even Sigmund Freud

I am irreverent, a rebel and a reprobate
I cannot love so I latch on to hate
Hatred comes easy for a man consumed by regret
Haunted by the travesties I’ve caused and cannot forget

I hate all the people who say “no” to my request
I hate each person who won’t do something at my behest
I hate all the people who hate me for being what I am
And being consumed by hate is from where my problems all stem

I hate all the women who beg “I love you but change”
I hate all the men who are correct when they label me strange
My muddled mind says “speak” yet and still I remain mute
And of the fact that I’m f*cked up there is no ****ing dispute
  © 2012…..PHREEPOETREE ~free cee!~

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We Are

We are but moonbeams
  cast from an eternal light,
    on the crest of small waves--
      flickers in vast oceans of time
       each one shinning so briefly.

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Dumb as a sack of hammers,
He thinks he knows it all.
He knows enough to get him by,
But blames you if he falls.

He's careful but not confident.
He's never known a day,
When he was happy or content.
He never learned to play.

He blames all that upon his wife.
Lord knows she isn't perfect;
But he blames her for everything,
And says she is defect.

If things go wrong as things will do,
He blames her for it all.
He knows he didn't cause it,
So she must take the fall.

He complains most every day,
'Bout this, that or the other.
Life in general he can't take,
Seems breathing is a bother.

He blames her for their lot in life.
'Thout her he'd be rich.
It's all her fault, he knows it is,
She's such a stupid bitch.

For years she's lived with naught but strife.
Not one good word he's spoken.
What would he do without his wife,
Without his little token?

He knows he really needs her.
'Thout her he'd be alone.
No one else would hang around,
And listen to him moan.

He needs her there for company,
To play his little game.
Without her he'd be all alone,
And then who would he blame?

                                   Judy Ball

Some people wouldn't be happy if you peed in their cornflakes.

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Walking Through the City

The cool breeze on my skin
As I wander through the street
Listening closely to the sound
Of the city's breath and heart beat

People's lives intersecting
Briefly touching, passing by
Contact as evanescent
As snowflakes on alluring fire

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there's a place where people can go
there's a place where they hide away
there's a place most everyone knows
there's a place where some people stay

a place where we all can hide and moan
that place where we're in ourselves alone
dark and quiet, where we're easily misled
that place where we're inside of our head

an unobserved place where attendants and nurses
attend to minds far distant or subversive
while down on their haunches - quietly rocking 
dreaming dreams, either reassuring or shocking

is it more comforting or more scary to know 
that everyone can be a part of being apart
living within ourselves just filled with woe
or sharing our souls to better take heart

its a tenuous thing to put ourselves out there
reveal the fears lurking within all of us
to be judged, by a society completely unaware
so hard to show our soul's open to trust

maybe that's what made him feel the way he felt
maybe she'd, after reflection see something else
maybe he could'a been saved from where he dwelt
maybe she'd 'a' been restored to mental health

we'll never know for sure and can only surmise
why others fall down into a hellish abyss
to be loathed or pitied by us haughtily wise
never dreaming that we too might be remiss

© Goode Guy 2012-07-24

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Spent time enough      upon this road
to know the things       I think are gold
don't give a hoot         bout wealth or fame
if you're famous          and made a name

My life's simple           have my own dreams
my own pursuits         and my own leans
but these are those     that let me see
what lies in you           your own beauty

I understand               what you've been through
though life's unique     but similar too
you own your joy        as I do mine
its ups and downs       the unsublime

I've experienced life    and all it's dirt
our ecstasies              of all our hurt
foolish man said         I crossed the line
I wasn't worth            his thought or time

Forgive me now         should I not see
all the meaning          your life needs be
sometimes I'm bound in my own thought
to remember             what life has taught

That I glory               in what is you
individuality               it's what we do 
I've shed my tears      and held your hand
same under stars       the same earth stand

COPYRIGHT © 2013 C Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC

 Psalm 62
9 Surely the lowborn are but a breath,
the highborn are but a lie.
If weighed on a balance, they are nothing;
together they are only a breath.
10 Do not trust in extortion
or put vain hope in stolen goods;
though your riches increase,
do not set your heart on them.
11 One thing God has spoken,
two things I have heard:
“Power belongs to you, God,
12 and with you, Lord, is unfailing love”

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The entire island of Manhattan is being swiftly raptured
by a heavenly force, the Harbor is badly shaken...
it seems that Judgement Day has come as prophesied;
there Lady Liberty still holds her torch, before it's gone!

If this vision is true fiction, how awful the real event will be
with Lady Blind Justice and Lady Fairness with a set of scales;
they are standing on the terrestrial globe to warn the stubborn Human race,
which has contributed to this state of chaos...defiling morality and honesty! 

So terrified are the seagulls that called this haven their home, a real bliss;
the Big Apple's greatness has vanished from everything else;
Atlantis disappeared into the depths of the ocean, Manhattan's wealth 
is taken back by the Almighty to punish the evil ones, and reward the just!

Entered in Carolyn Devonshire's contest, " Phoenix Rising "

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Independent with People

We are independent with people on earth
Our mortal angels are always there to assist us
But, we can never be independent in everything
God is our everything


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canCEL thAT meeTINg and gREETINg


Instant insanity insinuates itself repeatedly but not on me
You know who they are because of their unconventional  thinking
It’s the paranoid  pathetic people as per that which I see
And  those are the  ones I  blame for my drinking 

Craziness comes crawling and calling too many times for me
And these people walk around saying “poor me-- this ain’t no fun”
Lunatics lay in  wait for me to prove that which I see
Well these people ain’t  sane so pour me, poor me, pour me another one

I cannot escape the inescapable
My time ain’t worth their’s or anyone
Especially not with the mentally incapable
And then these people want the right to register for a handgun

No, they want to argue to demonstrate what they are
In front of an audience on my home, or the street
So I run to the nearest liquor store, best friend or a bar
Hoping upon hope that I don’t run into any of the people no one wants to meet

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Five Young Children

Five young children.
Lost and alone.
No one to care for them.
No one home.

Where are their parents?
Sitting in the bar.
Once the drinks have all been poured,
The fights will go too far.

Remember those poor children
waiting there at home.
They're too young to change their lives
or live them on their own.

Are there other children?
Lost and alone?
No one to care for them?
No one home?

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Cultures Shaped the Wreath

This symbol, the wreath, in cultures of our past
In our modern world, a Christmas ring that's here to last
Made of flowers, leaves, twigs and various fruits
Around the world their decorated, in individual suit

Strength and harsh winters, symbolised by the evergreens
Eternity in it's circumference, for many Christmas winter scenes
It's now so much in our culture, and forever it will last
To the Greeks and the Romans, I salute your cultural past

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There isn’t a place I haven’t abode
a river mansion or a tree by the road
in a multitude of places not our home
from commune havens to being alone

Was cold and hungry and lived on the street
with two small children and nothing to eat
I asked you to care and you threw us away
erased all my words despised what I say

We’ve slept in the fields and a bus stop bench
none who cared to help when in a pinch
I’ve seen men at their worst and their best
the crazy ones who took us in as their guest

Lived in house that had no doors
got one now by the oceans shores
I have lived with plenty and without a dime
the people I remember gave us their time

The sectarian churches have I attended
but so few hearts their revivals amended
no sect can save you when you stand before God
if you haven’t learned love your thoughts still flawed

I’ve been coast to coast livin’ on the street
the stories I can tell bout the people we meet
the cars that stopped with sacks for a meal
so the children had milk and oranges to peel

I’ve been close to heaven definitely hell
felt the sleep of death for preference dwell
the most important lesson I ever learned
it is by the forge my wisdom earned

I’ve read the Bible so many times
stories of love and hate for hearts reminds
what a man would do to acquire affection
cave to opinions to avoid rejection

I know I will always consider you
knowing I don’t know what you’ve been through
you can rest assured I’m here to learn
my choices are the only ones I can turn

I could wax eloquent on prophecy
but like Paul don’t matter if loves not in me
to every kind of learning sold my soul
but if you don’t count my hearts not whole

So much in life we have to consider
experiences that can help or hinder
the so called guidance that many teach
a whole new Talmud do they preach

Funny thing in the Word of God
they were royalty or in sandals shod
one can never judge by their appearance
by their outside to truths adherence

I read every mythology by grade seven
all their thoughts bout hell and heaven
the Bible teaches that death is sleep
till the resurrections judgments keep

If you don’t examine all things taught
you won’t know the lies that live in thought
if you think you already know all truth
and that learning is only sought in youth

When you’ve unraveled the knowledge of the universe
and fully apprehend and can death reverse
when you are perfect and my attention demand
and like my Lord extend understand

I’ll always give a care bout who you are
but if Loves not your teacher you’re not my STAR
if you don’t seek love for earths family
what possible connection could you find in me

COPYRIGHT © 2012 C Michael Miller
Via Duboff Law Group LLC

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Home Pride

Home Pride

He has been out of country,
	for eighteen months.
Served in Afghanistan, 
    	two years now, he says?

He complains about society,
	America today.
Other places better than this,
	terrible here, he says.

The poor woman, a stranger, trapped,
	in the seat to his side.
Drank a lot before the flight,
	over and over he says.

Boastful, boorish, brutish and arrogant,
	with no ring of the truth to his words.
Contradictions abound, woven tales and webs,
	such a hard life he says.

We have all seen the darker side of life,
	we learn and move on.
Being part of a solution, not the problem,
	is so much better I say.


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He wears a bandana and smells
worse than an unkept dog with a horrible breath; 
I heard rumors that he sleeps
in a garage, where dogs are infested with fleas.

He drives a station wagon emitting strong fumes,
does he ever change his engine oil or let it burn 'until the engine 
stops running? He shows no blush of shame, but curses more than
a truck driver while he sits still and counts his woes.

The hungry dogs bark and peak out of the car windows,
seeing angry faces and hands waving at close distance...
the defiant driver refuses to come out of the broken-down car,
and with raggae music blasting, he gives them the finger.  

Only a bigot could act in such a disrespectful way
as fury increases and every driver blows the horn constantly,
but too much air noise gets pedestrians tense, and one of them 
calls police on his cell phone...they come and arrest him.   

And he still smells in that cell cramped with criminals and offenders,
he even had the guts to ask one of the officers to bring in his dogs!
Oh, filthy, unhygienic guy they should hand you soap and towel,
instead of keeping you in there and make everybody yell!

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Jellyfish is the stinging kind,
it is found in droves
on our crowded beaches...
any little sting can drive anyone wild.

Yes, they are spineless, mordant and gelitous...
being closed watched by large gulls with a hungry palate,
but are chased away by dogs so ferocious;
I'm wondering how they will look and taste on my plate!

And still curious kids scoop them with plastic sand-shovels
and try to save them by dropping them in water-filled buckets,
running with excitement...ignoring the screams of their moms,
and they yell, " Put them down, they will sting you more than once!"

O jellyfishes, don't be vicious...we love you like shell-fish,  
if you could talk, your bizarre conduct won't be misunderstood by many! 
Is the water so polluted and infested with sharks that you flee from the sea, 
or are the fishermen so angry for wasted time on a worthless catch?

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Dont' Judge Me

Narrow minded you say
I don’t think that way 
I am open as can be
One day, you will see

I am free spirited
So it’s been said
Life is unexpected
Secrets are unknown

Regrets are repeated
Love is unfound
Money is not made
Self-respect begins to fade

Lost in devotion
Puzzled with emotion
Between all the uproar
But one day, I’ll soar 

Gain acquired tastes 
Without saving face
Reach for the stars
Drive fast cars

Become wealthy
Exist happily
Live the dream
And ultimately succeed

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Publicly Shamed, Allegedly Framed

It's not my fault I'm not to blame You have no proof I will show no shame I am a father of four And you accuse me of this I'm internally destroyed To get your wish Figures and statistics For crimes you can't solve Let's pick on the innocent Your conscience resolved To hell with my future As you walk away Another bent system And I am your play

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FREE CEE take a kill pill

            TAKE A KILL PILL

dear mr. lobbyist I have something to say unto you
I want to discuss the job you do
you line your pockets to legalize a pill
completely disregarding the poor souls it just may kill

have you seen the ads millions of people see?
they run them 1,000 times a day on T.V.
The ads that promise to make people feel better every day
but they phrase them in a particularly deceptive way

the announcer vows that the pharmaceutical will cure a dreaded disease
or instantaneously lower your high temperature by four degrees
they swear your child's whooping cough will be ended by tomorrow
or mitigate a depressed person's sodden sorrow

so now you drive a brand new Lexus and can even afford the gas
all because you get potentially lethal drugs to pass
and it's no wonder you have a hot wife twenty years younger than you
all because of the illicit things you do

These wonder drugs are sworn to save your life or end your pain
and rid yourself of that wheelchair and/or ivory tipped cane
So now you have a new Lexus and a great looking wife
but on the screen in small letters  it reads “this drug could help or end your mortal life” 
© 2012....PHREEPOETREE ~free cee!~

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the talking heads are also comics
these economic geniuses after years
are spouting praises of Misernomics
quick study concluded we're in arrears

and need to decapitalize life today
don't spend anything you ain't got
to forestall our tomorrow going away
good advice founding fathers caught

and don't pay for what you don't need
so therefore we'll cut back education
sound advice in sane person might heed
to better manage our bankrupt nation

and health and vitality merely frills
no need to waste our coins on want
when trying to cover economic ills
monetary mismanagement returns to haunt

what we want is to address our need
to count ourselves and sum our greed
those roads, bridges, electrical grids
mattered back when the things we did

were more important than take home pay
we'll keep it all and count it up
what you knew then, has now gone astray
soon Spend-it-omics could again erupt

our future, our kids, our progeny all
"This boy is Ignorance. This girl is Want"
matters minor, in our countless pall
our poorest desire, the possible, too daunt

in the mean time we say "thanks a bunch"
We'll save our lives for better times
food for thought on societies free lunch
We'll save our monied economic crimes

as Silas Marner tabled reclusive coins
no weighty matters outweigh the economy
these fearful economic times purloined
might priorities reflect our tragicomedy?

© Goode Guy 2011-07-06

we're counting...on you

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Taking Out The Trash

       Taking Out The Trash

In no particular order;
Rapists, pedophiles, congress men and vermin
I've taken out some trash in my youth
Two floozies, ex-wife and ex two

We’re not quite through with refuse
Take out a murderer or two for good measure
Along with the devil and demons
Exorcise first, bag, then throw to the curb

As we continue taking waste matter 
Why not consider dictators, alligators and brats
But leave the cute puppies alone
They mean you no harm

Remember to take out dependence and lecherous ones
With your stinky taxes and filing fees to the street
They’ll never return on their own
Unless you’re at home and it’s free

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FREE CEE a junkie ingenius ingenuity

we junkies don't have a bank or checking account
we just keep shooting dope as our troubles mount
we never heard about the concept of an annuity
all we have is junkie ingenuity

we take things other people throw away and turn it into cash
we can use spittle and bubble gum to heal any rash
what other's consider useless we use to our advantage
and after healing that rash we use masking tape for a bandage

we find things people consider gargage and hoard it away
just in case we may need it one day
we can find something in an old ragged box
and use it to pick out suckers and locks

other people see things as items to fleetingly dispose of
while we use them to rise beyond and above
men can create a tuxedo out of a lovely woman's dress
and use a rock to turn an old lady's head into a bloody mess
 (c) 2012.....~free cee!~ PHREEPOETREE

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Have you ever Wondered

Have you ever wondered, where we all came from
Were we ever in the trees, to the present upright and strong
Does it make you think, can you go into your dark
What do you actually seek, or is the truth far too stark

Have you ever wondered, where we all came from
These creeds in earths modern life, is it now here we all belong
Does it make you think, but honestly, how far back can you go
Are beliefs so now, so recent, when earths axis newly flowed

Have you ever wondered, where we all came from
So many say their creator, they voice as their song
Does it make you think, through your eyes is what you see
When elders ruled past tribes, and what they said you'll be

Have you ever wondered, where we all came from
That science plays the part, that built this living throng
Does it make you think, ever since the existence of time
That mother nature is the creator, all living hearts are her chime

Have you ever wondered, where we all came from
On this planet we have excavated, the evidence so belonged
Does it make you think, of the icons in our past
The ones that exist materially, the ones seen, seem to last

Have you ever wondered, where we all came from
This creator of modern man, natures right and others wrong
Does it make you think, that tribes elders had their say
Power became their ultimate, that many still believe to this day

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WAKE up all you self righteous gods and goddesses

            IT'S FOR AND ABOUT HER

there are far too many people no one can satisfy
so in essence  we should all just let them wail and cry
because tears ain't going to get them anywhere
so have i made myself amply clear?

weep your tears my dear, but good it shall not do
it's not going to help me any and it certainly won't help you
so go ahead with reddened eyes comparing yesterday to today
for comparisons will get you nowhere except some fResh FLESH to flay

so skin yourself alive if you dare
that's as good as a self-pitying tear
as for me i cry no more
for i find weeping an unnecessary bore

oh so there she sits on a seat of memories
listening to a disembodied voice whispered by the breeze
well that voice was silenced years ago when he bid his heavenly goodbye
and as i said, there are just too many people no one can satisfy
       (c) 2011......Phreepoetry ~free cee!!~

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We people don’t get respect, we must earn it
We are not birthed to neglect people and things, we learn it
We learn not from the respectable people we meet
But me and  three learned the stalwartness of the street

We see, hear and taste the sour city air
While most of us ain’t got bus fare
We despise, curse and belittle the ones we hate
We weren’t born to despise, it just turned out to be our collective fate

We were educated and indoctrinated to live with nearly naught
It is by flames, gun powder and  rage by which we three were taught
Students all, following the example of reprobates
While your God seems to watch as He giggles and/or masturbates

We don’t learn to resent your god, it’s simply inherent in our genes
We are born to discern the fact that your Lord sets some sickening scenes
We live along with the mentally challenged and the poor inflicted ones
We are the lost who were weak enough to become a charter member of the addicted ones
             © 2011.….Phreepoetree ~free cee!~

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Cull The Herd

Cull the herd
But be aware
More will follow
More who dare

Men aspire
Each position
Need we call them

Can we stop
The lies convening
Is there anyone

Route be damned
The ship off course
We've been fated
This remorse

Vote him down
But look once more
Those replace him
By the score

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It can be gloomy as winter's dreariness...
when nothing else glistens but cold snow;
and it can be as mysterious as summers' nights...
when the crickets are heard from a dark lawn.

Come out and see the many images of the pale moon,
which changes its shape on certain months, or days of the year:
full moon, half moon and three quarter of a moon
still captivate us more than any other planet distant and clear. 

Who hasn't heard legends about this mysterious planet not so cheery?
In Medieval Times, it seemed to have magical powers so solicitous;
and to whom it was so leery...if not to a saint exalting God only?
Poets of this age...wonder how it turns lovers passionate and amorous! 

I have contemplated with admiration the many images of the pale moon
for almost a lifetime: from my hilarious childhood to my hermetic manhood,  
and it hasn't broken its incantation, or changed a bit in color and even mood;
if I could reach it, I'd transform it into a garden of loveliness as anyone should.   

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God Bless America, 
is a phrase we love to say.
But I just can't believe,
God blesses her today.
We've become a sinful nation,
full of greediness and hate.
We love drugs and booze, sex and
money, and all that we can take.
We stopped seeking after goodness,
and dwelled only on the worst.
Now only a handful of Christians 
can quote a single verse.
We've done every single thing,
God told us not to do.
We think that we can have our way,
and receive his blessings too.
We were once a mighty Nation, 
with more than we could want.
We once put faith "in God we trust",
but now in God we don't.
We need to change America,
before the hour's late.
To continue in this wickedness
will only seal our fate.
God won't wait much longer,
before he's good and mad.
If we don't change before too long,
I believe we'll wish we had.

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Lingerie Lies

Dressed in sex
Dripping night
Arched shadows
Licking light
Smeared silence
Succulent sighs
Framed flesh
Lingerie lies

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Osama Docudrama

Itinerant mercenary shrouded with penitent robe
Shining beacon for terrorists around the globe
Hermetic curmudgeon; gun-toting xenophobe
Zealous provacateur who for ardent jihadists did probe

Material wealth a means; establishing a caliphate the end
Seeking Arab-royalty's, sovereign-sheikdoms to rend
Scourge of terror to blight all that western values defend
Sharia law to govern Middle East; Allah's dividend

Great Satan's engine to throttle
Region's fealty to bottle
Suicide pilots struck the monuments we coddle
Gratuitious shards and blood stains did the landscape mottle

President Bush promised swift revenge
Ordered Taliban to stop Osama's bloody binge
Mullah Omar reneged; Bushes' saber rattling had a malodorous tinge
U.S forces did the Taliban's quarters singe

Alquaida's overseas operations are diminished
But Alquaida's mission not finished
Alquaida cells in Iraq, Afghanistan bravely battle, mettle distinguished
Nevertheless, the infidel forces not extinguished
Gitmo detainees probed for information
Trite torture brought about stunning reformation
Stressed warrior's fealty to leader declined in isolated station
Under duration, divulged details about Bin Laden's method of operation

Osama's couriers cover blown
Seeds for fruitful harvest are sown
Courier's redoubt canvassed with satellite, drone
Intelligence on compound, residents CIA did hone

Calculated risk; Navy Seals in choppers did alight
Flying quietly with fiery portents into the calm night
Hoping the briny tentacles of terror to blight
Cresting over the shadowy compound; objective in sight

Down the dangling ladders vigilant Seals did repel
Into the throes of darkness descending into the mouth of hell
Perimeter defense, early warning signals were of no avail
Osama's stunned tenants could only stand fast or bail

Each obstacle, human shield the Seals did meticulously fell
Carefully following the trail to the Holy Grail
Entering Osama's room, rending the sacral veil
The caged warrior with precision did shell

Osama's dead body packed in a unmarked crate
Transported vicariously to lab, identity to equate
Identity confirmed; vigilant menace had met his fate
Un-consecrated remains tossed into sea; watery tomb his final estate   





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blue bra girl

now captive of the Internet
a junta's brutality is beset
captured for the world to see
the batoned beating of democracy

North East Africa, it can't be claimed
to solely fill this role of shame
but now viral bits are flying 'round
protesting people's being beaten down

women the circumference of the world
are persecuted for their gender's creation
cell cameras will, a new day herald
responsive answers from caring nations

people can be beaten and put down
forced to some savage submission
but what goes 'round comes 'round
violence begets, of its own volition

Mohandas lead too, where many follow
the harder, bloodier road of peace
declarations of change only ring hollow
when silenced by some thought police

© Goode Guy 2011-12-22

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Why must I be betrayed by people I respect the most
Everything in my life has become a contradiction
All I hear now are cowards who are quick to boast
And any respect I had for these people turned out to be pure fiction

Why must the people I consider friends treat me with enmity
When they should be eager to concede to a simple request
Why to people I consider allies all seem not to care then I deem them the enemy
And answer to the demonic voice of the devil’s behest

I have no place to hide as I used to in crowded bars
I have no place to run from people who sold themselves out for a few sheckles more or less 
I am left with a wounded lamb and a body marred by bloody scars
And only sorrow for cowards that this burdened man is left to confess

I used to have a grand design which demanded I fulfill
I used to have a dream, a plan, and hope
I used to believe in God's will
I used to believe these things until I shot my first bag of dope
 © 2012...copyright PHREEPOETREE ~free cee!~

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Often wondered bout people down under
Do they have to stand on their heads?
Do they have to tie down all their possessions?
Is flying off into space their dread?

We hope they all stay attached to the earth
We love them and their cute little bears
Once I was told by this Australian lady
Their breath can sure foul up the air

All my Aussie friends here on the Soup
Refer to their land as paradise
I was also told that the biceps on women
Are huge from hanging on for dear life

Now I know this must be some great myth
Olivia's seemed quite normal to me
You can't believe all the rumours you hear
But in case, hang onto to that tree!

Often wondered bout people down under
How do they keep their beer in their glass?
Do they chain themselves to the bed at night?
Do roots pop up instead of grass?

@Jack Ellison 2012

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Diversity of the Elements

Standing upon it without thought passing each day,
Our terrain serves our continuity, preserving sway.
Preparing spectacular topography to which display.
Characteristics of different hue, glorious and gray,

Whispering air flows throughout the world in peace.
Silently it moves at times, often seeming to cease.
Constantly circulating in every aspect of its lease,
Violent it may become with a destructive release.

Spontaneous combustion, never proven to be,
Powers of the flame, necessity for you and me,
Discovery of fire was easy, produced heavenly.
Captivity, tricky of this beast, fire was born free.

So much abundantly occupying our spaces so near,
Producing different cultural life, to enjoy and fear.
Securing borders for explorers to travel our sphere.
Our closest boundary, but not, our final frontier,

One irrigates land, one separates flowingly diverse.
One feeds the source, only as fuel to burn, intersperse.

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Sacrament of the Holy Spirit
The second half of Baptism
Baptized Person is sealed with the 7 gifts of the Holy Spirit
It is used to strengthened the 7 gifts of the Holy Spirit


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Pity pervades
indiscretion invades
safety is a thing of yesterday
and tears are the price we all must pay

I pity the little child who helps a man find his cat
and ends up wiping her feet on his welcome mat
what goes on inside is beyond horrifying
and it's people like this we'll all be defying

indiscretion includes animosity and profanity
all these characteristics are the result of vanity
insanity even includes the nicest looking folks
and a world is coming where there are no more jokes

this earth is being polluted and so is outer space
until we all end up with sadness face to face
I weep for that little kid and disagree with the indiscreet
and these heartless people are souls I hope to never meet
   © 2012.......copyright PHREEPOETREE ~free cee!~

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I`m damned if I do,
And damned if I don`t,
In questions of will,
And questions of won`t.

Each time I try,
To converse with him,
He misunderstands,
And patience wears thin.

Although I agree,
With his views on most things,
He questions my feelings,
Because I don`t bring,

A host of these matters,
To discuss and debate,
To the table with him,
And sit and relate,

Deep matters of course,
On religion and such,
Political views,
And the law over much,

Because I`m so tired,
Of listening to him,
As he groans and bemoans,
How the future looks grim.

I want to talk,
About happier things,
That don`t cause you worry,
Things that don`t bring,

All manner of problems,
To weigh on your mind,
So your life becomes burdoned,
And time just a grind;

So now I avoid him,
As most others do,
And he can`t understand,
Why his friends are so few,

And even his wife,
Takes her leave to go hide,
Because he`s so tiresome,
She needs to confide,

In someone more easy,
On her poor strained nerves;
No boyfriend or lover,
Just someone who serves,

A someone to lean on,
Just one true friend,
In whom to confide,
When her patience wears thin.

                                        Judy Ball

Some things that aren`t happy are important and need to be discussed but a steady diet of it morning, noon and night is a bit over much.
It starts to weigh on a person`s mind and they need a break from it.
Especially if you talk about it even during dinneer. 
That knots the stomach and you can`t eat let alone digest your food.
A little light conversation is necessary too.

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The Neapolitan tarantella
is a folk dance very graceful and lively,
it was inspired by someone having been 
bitten by a poisonous Taruntula.

It's fast up-beat tempo
induces a frenzied dance in a solo,
or a couple...and as they dance they sweat out
the poison of the spider's bite.

Grandma used to sing this folklorist song,
and I danced with her while loud mandolins 
and tambourines accompanied her cheerful singing...
there wasn't an awkward note in her voice. 

The Neapolitan tarantella, with its frantic rhythms
and shrill harmonies infused passion in great composers,
and Mendelssohn wrote his symphony...
a song dance was composed by Rossini.

The Neapolitan tarantella grandiosely plays   
and everyone stops and listens to its low and high-pitched melody,
and with little hesitation they start to dance...
beneath my veranda, these folks put on a look of festivity.

Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci

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Saint Paul, Witness of Hope

St. Paul immersed in difficulties
Trials of various kinds
Wrote to his disciple Timothy
Must go back with Risen Jesus to Damascus

Follower the Law of Moses
Determined to fight
Every means
Even kill those regarded God’s enemies

On the way to Damascus
To arrest followers of Christ
Was blinded by mysterious light
Heard himself called by name

Saul, Saul, 
“Why do you persecute Me?”
Fell to the ground, asking
“Who are you, Lord?”

“I am Jesus
Whom you are persecuting” (Acts 9:3-5)
After encounter
His life changed dramatically 

He received baptism to Paul
Became Apostle of the Gospel
Inwardly Transformed by Divine love
Had met in the person of Jesus Christ

He wrote “Life I now live, in the flesh I live by the Son of God”
Who loved me and gave Himself to me
From being a persecutor
He became a witness and a missionary

Founded Christian Community
In Asia Minor and Greece
Travelled thousands of miles among all kinds of dangers
His martyrdom is all for the love of Christ

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How long 'til it ends?

You can't turn on the t.v. anymore,
and not see any bad news.
You can't turn on the radio,
and not hear about sex, drugs, and death.

Shootings on streets, by schools, around stores,
Drug dealers, drug busts, death due to drugs.
Raps and songs about sex, money, drugs, clothes, and
then you have the 4th rape case this month.

When is it going to end?
When will we hear and see peace?
How far will it go before
someone sees what it'll take to make it work?

You can't live in peace,
knowing a mother abandoned her child.
You can't live without anger,
knowing the world is only getting worse.

A mother abandons her child, another kills hers,
A father kidnaps his, another kills his wife and unborn child.
You want to strangle them all,
But you can't, it'll mean you're just as bad as them. 
Killing, but yours is avenge. 
And still wrong.

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Receiving Christian Communion

Must have the Sacrament of Holy Eucharist
Attend Sunday mass
A person may not receive communion
Until absolved from Mortal or Venial sin


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What does Christian mean

Christian, a baptized person
To believe all that Christ has taught
To do all that He has commanded
As necessary for our salvation

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Jennie Butler

Hour upon unending hour,
day upon unending day,
quietly, in her prison, our
dear Jennie Butler lay.

No curses did she utter,
never once did she complain,
though hands and feet were gnarled,
swollen, and burning with pain.

Instead, she smiled, told us jokes,
those she often would repeat,
and sing to us the old songs,
in tones pleasant and sweet.

Down the hall outside her room,
other voices mingled there,
mumbling and babbling
or calling out in despair.

No one came to visit her,
no one we could recall,
though she waited patiently,
no one ever came at all.


*Aunt Juanita's roommate in the Nursing Home. Also written in free verse (Cameo Acquaintance)

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Most Vocal Critic

My sister Pat says my words are too big,
that I lose my audience due to this.
By far, most people just don’t give a fig;
Anything over one’s head’s just a miss. 

My vocabulary’s filled with nonsense,
And no one bothers to find the meaning.
No one wants their reading to be so dense
What I think’s clever is just demeaning.

Why can’t I just write simple stuff
about flowers and family and life?
Why isn’t that enough
without dredging up the dark, unhappy strife?

While I swim through depressing depths,
most people splash and play in shallows.
They laugh out loud, don’t hold their breath.
Real humor doesn’t come from gallows.

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What virtues are opposed to 7 Capital or Deadly Sins

Humility is opposed to Pride
Generosity to covetousness
Chastity to lust
Meekness to anger
Temperance to Gluttony
Love to envy and
Diligence to Sloth


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bumper cars

that long lonesome highway
ain't so lonesome after all
there's many cars on the byway
and truckers on the long haul

driving one next to another
back and front and all about
dangers abound, some undiscovered
behind, before, all 'round, no doubt

you may think I'm a bit crass
but some folks ridin' these roads
really like to ride upon my ass
despite brake lights that I showed

they get right up to my derriere
and hang there as if we're close
but I try not to look too scared
'lest i tip my hand to overexpose

my fear they'll get in my backseat
to carry them to their destination
an unlikely, yet still possible feat
parked in mind's fertile creation

for miles we go close back to front
they seem to not want to go past
no hurry for them, while i bear the brunt
imagining they might jus' drive up en masse

© Goode Guy 2011-11-29

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What does the name Christ signifies

The name Christ signifies Messias
The Great Prophet
High Priest and
King of the New Law anointed as a man with the fullness of divine power

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FREE CEE when Autumn comes to CALL


Some people just seem laid back and at ease
with all the comfort of an Autumnal breeze
it seems as if they have a gift others never gain
and can be an immaculate granting to end one's pain

some people make you smile as soon as they approach
and are as memorable as Grandma's 19th century broach
when everyone else you see owns a frown
this persona is like a frilly taffeta gown

some people can tell a story you never want to end
and write letters they always have time to send
they take the initiative to say “thanks you” in a very special way
and can take a hawk of a morning and turn it into a robin red breast day

some people you know right away are gentle and kind
those are the people who never really leave your mind
some people can take a gray sky and turn it blue
all these are people, some people just like you
         © 2012........PHREEPOETREE ~free cee!~

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Fruits of the Holy Spirit

Love, Joy, Peace
Patience, Kindness, Goodness, Faithfulness
Gentleness and Self Control
Gal 5:22-23

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i decided that i haven't seen 1 poem that moves me to share my genius


When I leave this earth I want to leave my mark
But it’s difficult to see a mark in the dark
You may as well wear blindfolds over your eyes
I want to leave a mark when I say my final goodbyes

Some people sit in an easy chair that ain’t easy after all
Some people never learned to rise up when they fall
Some people regret ignoring the song of a lark
But as for me when I go I want to leave my mark

There were so many things I’ve done and I’ve seen
I always chose being gentle rather than to be mean
I made little children giggle as they played in a park
But to me all those things aren’t much of a mark

If I had my choice of what mark to leave behind
It wouldn’t be that people thought of me as having been kind
I wouldn’t want my mark to be the things that I do
When I leave my mark I want that mark to be you
    © 2011.….© 2011.…~free cee!~  Phreepoetree 

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Is Jesus Christ more than one person and what do we mean by that

Jesus Christ is one in 3 Divine Persons
God the Father
God the Son and
God the Holy Spirit (Ghost)


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there’s only a very supreme segment of society who get it
This ain’t a planet, it’s just a floating orb formed of “sh*t
Now pathetic people are pissing on it and it’s going to turn into mud
Yet and still human beings are running around afraid of a flood

A flood?  Are they delusional is what I’d like to know?
Because a flood ain’t gonna compare to the fire and snow
What Job went through with locusts and boils will seem like nil
And quite frankly, I’ve had my fu***ng fill

I’m tired, I’m exhausted, I’m played out and weary
And a one world government is making me leery
“The New World Order” frightens me but not as much as Mack
Oh, Mack’s the dude down the street who lives in a makeshift shack

He only frightens me because he ain’t afraid
And he might also know from what this planet was made
My Grandson may inherit a world where peace and pride are a thing of the past
And if people keep perpetually puking and pissing on this puny planet it simply cannot last
       © 2011.…Phreepoetree   ~free cee!~ 

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New Testament

The second part of the complete bible
It contains the specifically Christian Texts
Namely the Gospels, the Acts of the apostles
Fourteen letter written by Paul, Seven Catholic letters and Revelation


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a pinch of civil seasoning

back at the Arab Spring
and now a Wall Street Fall
citizens of foundering faith
just wanna change it all

believing in a higher purpose
is passing the way of the horse
power to too few, or many, versus
the prospect of anarchy, of course

can an untouchable or a herder
share with a CEO or Senator
can a cashier and a shop helper
turn from a debtor to a creditor

can people be allowed a chance
to live small lives in big places
without losing the race in advance
beaten and broken, hopes displaced

i mean, we all need to eat to live
the emaciated and the obese, both
there's enough Mother Earth to give
every human some economic growth

but economic growth must be balanced
with growth of spirits' understanding
lest our hearts' remorse need be penanced
for greed blinded with misunderstanding 

if i want to break that monied broker,
one of the few to own the power
am i any better a worthy life-maker
than him within his baubled bower

civility begins with our forgiveness
of others, and harder, of ourselves
for the deep greed and covetiveness
that all carry within their cells

summer was hot and so too our passions
lest we suffer the winter of our discontent
let's follow our better desires with actions
to say what we mean, then live our intent

with some sage wisdom and a bit of thyme
we might be able to curry some favor
twixt one 'n' other's condiments sublime
'n' cook up a society we can equally savor

© Goode Guy 2011-10-03

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bring,pray and be,
I will then see
each side of Me-
in thee

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Left For Dead

They thought she was a loser
and they laughed at all her pain.
They chose to just ignore her
when she started to complain.

They took her so deep under
that she wondered if she'd live.
Then she heard a voice inside her
say she had so much to give.

They did just what they wanted.
They could hurt her everyday.
They could say she'll never make it
but she knew she'd break away.

They left her how they liked her
as she curled up in a ball.
Of course she couldn't stand up, 
she was so very small.

The one thing that they gave her
was her faith she had in prayer.
That's all she ever needed
to begin her life out there.

They didn't know the favor
they had done for her instead.
They made her a survivor
when they left her there for dead.

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My Week After Next

My week after next this is what I will do
Watching Glasgow Rangers in their teddy bear blue
Whilst into the evening the Soup beckons me
For writing I'll do, just wait and you'll read

When Monday arrives into the garden I'll go
To lay a black membrane to stop those weeds on the grow
Whilst stopping for lunch with son number three
I'm hoping and wishing he'll make it for me

The very next day it's really much of the same
I have to lay a shed floor, I hope I'm not doubled in pain
As I'm on holiday I can stay up later at night
To the Soup I'll comment, because it's only right

Wednesday I've reached and it's the back garden to do
Many meters to dig for a new lawn to come through
I have apples to pick, it's not the best season I've had
I blame the recent winter, because so many are bad

My weeks in the middle but tomorrow it's work
With a little wry smile and a tad of a quirk
It's Friday again and another weekend has arrived
For I'm crafty again, for another three days I've contrived

The very next week I'm on holiday again
I can admire my work without suffering more pain
For my work on the Soup will command these three days
A Brandy I'll have to help me work rest and play

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All I Want

I try to stay distracted
To cast the thoughts aside
To push away the memories
But my heart just won’t comply
All I want is you to want me
To be the one that you adore
All I want is you to hold me
To be wrapped up in your arms
I want you so much I’ve been wishing
On every eyelash, every star
And every time I close my eyes
I end up right there where you are
All I want is you beside me
With our fingers intertwined
All I want is you to tell me
That your feelings match with mine

But I know its just a vision
Not reality by far
It was just a flicker quick to dim
Just a one-time shooting star

All I want is it to be real
To never wake up from this dream
All I want is you to love me
But you never will, it seems.

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Don't make mountains out of mole hills,
And strife and trouble seek.
Don't look for hidden meanings,
In the words that people speak.

Don't sit among the ashes,
Of bygone scenes of stife,
Stirring coals of anger,
To bring them back to life.

You don't have to look for trouble,
It finds you in time.
Seek instead to be content,
Your character refine.

Let the past stay buried,
Unless there be some boon,
T'will make your burden lighter,
And heal an open wound.

                                                                                              James 5:9

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Could we ignore those heroes and heroines,
who fought for freedom and gave us many choices?
Every country has them and their valor we should revere!
I'd like to be one of them...but I hesitate to dare!

More than five thousands of years people have lived on our planet,
and powerful civilizations rose to subdue the ones with a weaker sword...
even today when knowledge is supreme, the mighty ones continue to do so!
O inhuman and foolish race...have you lost all consciousness and grace?

How can the human heart be enslaved by mighteness,
if precious freedom is a right given by God without prejudice? 
All, I repeat all peoples are entitled to liberty...O heroes and heroines rise!
I'm not inciting anyone to rebellion, but protest they should with their voice!

O inhuman and foolish race, how much longer can you brag and not be erased?  
Rome crumbled with its marble idols...others followed and lost what they highly praised!
Now justice is veiled by a feigned appearance: haters of faith and lovers of money abound,
bringing more destruction and danger to anyone alive...will they return to God?  

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One never realizes where inspiration comes from,
I found mine while strolling along...
a land with beautiful landscapes
that wouldn't let dreams escape.

One isn't born a poet, it's a revelation of fateful events 
that are analyzed by an inner feeling...
so immensely simplistic and revealing,
absorbing the essence of prudence. 

Some dissident strongly pointed out the strange isolation of an intellectual,
being estranged from real people who are more amicable...
how would he know how desolation confines
that soul in search of a serenity redeemed by prize?

Not living on the edge, but tasting the richness of slowness,
which controls the pace of the footsteps,
always keeping them in the right track...
how could peaceful thoughts trigger a violent death?

Thrilled to admire a head full of white hair, when that time arrives,
and reading names on limestone graves, 
deepens my comprehension...
comparing their age to mine.

Walking in the true faith, seeing the wonders and the miracles,
and that fervent faith will make me walk 
in the spirit for a testimony to all believers...
and as a follower of Christ, I stand on His rock.  

Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci

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From Greek laos = people
The common state of life in the church
Baptized, non-ordained Christians
Who belong to the people of God


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Latin: inspiration = inbreathing
God’s influence of the human writers of the bible so
He Himself should be regarded as 
The author of the Sacred scripture


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Mortal sin

 grievous offense against law of Eternal God
Sin called mortal  deprives us of spiritual life
Sanctifying grace brings everlasting death 
Damnation of the soul

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How were the merits of Jesus Christ applied to our souls

The merits of Jesus Christ are applied to our souls through the Sacraments
Especially Baptism
Which restore us to the friendship of God


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Worship as you will
Worshi with your heart
           and be still
never to depart

After the style of George Herbert's poem Discipline 5/5/3/5

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What does incarnation mean and what does redemption mean

Incarnation means act of clothing with flesh
So our Lord clothed 
His divinity with a human body
Redemption means to buy back again


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Rhythmical gestures and steps
make for a happy dancing in present days...
either to worship God if the purpose is sacred,
or to worship Satan, if the purpose is wicked..

A genuine, artful and heartfelt dance
is devotion to our true God, who blesses
all dancers performing before His shining throne;
even a danseur or danseuse can never feel alone.

When the absence of light invites darkness to rove,
don't be and be dazzled from above;
God's chosen people became impatient and rough,
and started dancing before the golden, glimmering calf. 

Invite all believers to your dance,
young and old, poor and rich: forget no one in your search;
everyone must share in the glory which enlightens each,
count me in...I'll lift my praying hands!  

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Effects of Venial Sin

Lessening of the love of Eternal God 
On our heart
Making us less worthy of His help
Weakening of the power to resist mortal sin

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Just because
You cannot see
Doesn't mean
It cannot be

Are we destined
All to stay
Is there any
Other way

Is the struggle
All in vain
Does there come
One final pain

Is He watching
Is He there
Is there ever
Lasting air

Where is Heaven
Where is Hell
Should I march
The street and tell

Belay the deck
And hold mast tight
There is no sailing
There tonight

We may not go
Or so they say
But something made
Us all to stay

And every star
And all our might
There is no after
In my sight

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Green peas and all kinds of beans
are split open to release their seeds,
like those peas in a green pod,
that mother cooked in a huge pot!

One of my dad's friends who wore a veteran's brooch, 
would shamelessly cheat to get a delicious split-pea soup;
mom didn't know he was a cheater, and surely would have hit him
with the wooden dough roller when he peaked with a grim!   

And mom slowly stirred the vegetable soup,
she used to say, " The longer it cooks, the better it tastes! '
And my mouth was drooling to taste those soft peas...
that I took out of the seeds' casings without miscue! 

Mother rushed in the kitchen with a roar of an enraged lion,
" That idiot is playing no fair game! He is a menace to all!
And he passes glasses of brandy to get everybody drunk! " 
" He wants to win no matter what the cost...oh, clever maven! "

The split-pea soup steams like a hot volcano erupting,
the cover of the pot blows off, " What a mess on my stove! " mom  screams...
" It's all his fault that I am in this state! " she continues yelling...
" I still hear his big mouth mocking...wait 'till I have finished cooking these peas! "

Entered in Nathan's Laccese contest, " Two peas in a pod " 

Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci

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They guilts of every soul are deeply hidden within,
carrying an unconceivably needless  weight...  
and yet nobody is willing to get of it by shunning sin;
they would rather conceal it and live with it. 

Only God sees the guilts of every soul;
we may look righteous to others and get undeserved praise,
but to Him we are an obdomation of evil,
which without repentance, as He promised, He will not erase! 

I have my guilts and bowing in regret,
I let them all come out of darkness to meet His glorious face;
and if I am to live in humbleness and grace,
I must get rid of them and stand erect!

So continue defying the forces of goodness,
and find yourself alone unable to overcome your emptiness;
friends will extend their hand, but pride will keep  
it from touching yours, and forever you will grieve and weep. 

Let the Heavenly waters wash all your guilts away,
be cleansed and please Him always without feeling hopeless and unworthy,
without attempting to remove them yourself with vain effort...
I stand at the river of salvation, not remembering sin,vanity, pain and hurt.  

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How did Christ show and prove His divine power

Christ showed and proved His Divine power chiefly by His miracles
Which are extraordinary works that can be performed 
Only by the power received from God
Therefore, His sanction and authority


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Potbelly was the pride of the wealthy,
the fatter they looked, the richer they were presumed;
now days the rich have found the source of energy...
by staying in shape and looking haggard.

Rampant obesity is a real problem for the common people,
and when it comes to eating habits, they're pound foolish:
obsessed with a fat cuisine:  tasty, elaborate and incorrigible....
and without the aesthetic concern, they try every alluring dish.

In the palaces of the gentry many paintings displayed chubby
Kings and Queens flashing their stubborn, monarch attitude,
while the lower class was deprived of delicacies and envied their posture...
little they they know that the gentility's haute cuisine was extremely unhealthy.

Recently the U S Congress banned fast-food restaurants
from using high fat products like cheap cooking oils and lards,
to promote good health nationwide: hoping the public would be alerted and heed...
overweight people can't lead a healthy lifestyle, and we all see their suffering indeed. 

Are you willing to make that overdue resolution and lose weight, not
for the society's sake, but for your own heartiness?,
Your well-being is very essential to your state of happiness...
why is a toned body more agile and vigorous than a flabby one?

Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci

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The monster rose out of the sea,
Intent on devastation.
The wreckage it left in its wake--
Beyond imagination!

The world looks dark and dismal, now.
Heartbreak, on every hand.
A world of rubble and debris,
Where once was sun and sand.

But this night is not forever;
There will dawn a brighter day.
The Gulf Coast sun will shine again,
And drive the gloom away. 

We'll rally 'round and lend a hand,
For we're all kith and kin.
We'll work upon the fallen things,
Till they're rebuilt again. 

The human spirit will prevail.
When this tribulation's done,
This land will rise up from its ruin,
And gleam in a new day's sun. 

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No one can see the steadfast force
guiding me toward infinite peace,
an untroubled and limpid sea...
with glittering, foaming waves!

Some call it faith, I call it strength;
and somehow leads me to believe in destiny...
that the spirit cannot be broken easily
when the foundation is built on courage!

I strum my guitar and sing Alleluia, and as 
I carefully walk...I can't ever stumble
on a smooth road, where evil is not present...  
to give a sign of premonition to an ever-faithful!

I go past the pear' orchards in a remote farm,
and the pheasants sit in the golden branches;
the fruits look so succulent inviting me to taste them,
others have wished to savor such a sweetness!

A surge of sublime joy swells inside like that of songs,
and gracefully I sing them by allowing sustenance...
the steadfast force guiding me to enjoy the supreme moments
as if sighting a supernova, which will not lose its brilliance!

An oath of obedience I have made to God,
and being humble, I will honor Him repeatedly...
in all kinds of prayers and proclaim Him Lord
whose hand is the steadfast force guiding me!

Cpoyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci

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Chew's Ranch

I had an aunt and uncle
We called them Boo and Chew
They had ranch in West Texas
Where they grew a crop or two

They had no city water 
A windmill was their thing
Summer is hot and dusty there
I swear it never rains

They had an outdoor toilet
A two holer, I recall
The building was kind of squatty
So the seats weren’t very tall

I saw Dad go in there
Heard a rumble and a roar
He had a question on his mind
When he came out the door

“What can you raise around here
Besides those sugar beets”
Chew said almost anything
“Then raise the toilet seats” 

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My beautiful body is another divine creation,
every part, so perfect, is guided by this wisest, most sinless heart,
which will not make it err when temptation
tries to weaken it by making it remember the bitterness of regrets. 

Nudity imparts its own beauty when it is considered a temple governed by purity;
nonetheless, it came from God's thoughts and artful hands;
so why should we be ashamed of it, if it is shown accordingly?
Many have exploited it for monetary gains and this is the plague of our society!   

My image is gladly seen in the clearest mirror,
inducing awareness, amazement and gratefulness,
never thinking of defiling it with unworthy offers;
even Satan is plotting against me and waving war!

Immoral persons won't hesitates to show their lewd interest,
thus taking advantage of someone needing the desperate break;  
these people corrupt any soul to rob it of dignity by their kind amenity... 
where's your sense of keenness, when it comes to view your sexuality? 

My beautiful body is another divine creation,
wonderfully and perfectly made to use it adequately;
glances of admiration by others may be full of inequity,
and adulating words will not flatter me, knowing their deception. 

Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci

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Sitting on the Beach

Sitting on the beach
I close my weary eyes
To hear the rushing waves
When they land its their goodbye

Sitting on the beach
Sounds of nature all around
Children playing in the sands
Their happiness abounds

Sitting on the beach
Soft breezes grace my face
The reeds reply with whistles
Whilst the gulls glide their space

Sitting on the beach
Enjoying the sun rays on my face
There is no better place to be
For sure this is the place

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The Mistress

She was a mistress
Just one of many
And now she scrounges
For ev'ry penny

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Haiti: Dreams Betrayed Beneath the Sun

Haiti: Dreams Betrayed Beneath the Sun

Our “Mother Earth” has filled her graves; dread stays.
Entrapping thousands in her hungry jaws.
She quivered with her deepest rage, oh, day.
And from her belly under seas roars cause.

Spitting fire, destroying, homes; thus stealing breath.
Disaster bound its heart to tears affright.
Rescuers search the rubbles heaped with … Death.
She killed the young and old with just one bite. 

Gone; children ripped from parents while they played.
And Old folks lost in thought found not their stay.
In moments those that lived had passed away.
Now destitute, survivors to God pray.

The rich and poor together work, none tire.
Will hopes and prayers revive their stolen days?
The rescued, shocked, and dazed reap horrors’, ire.
Life lost beneath debris turns to a blaze.

The world looks on with wonder, all amazed.
Resilient, pained, some brave survivors’ fight.
For tragedy had thrust death’s dreadful phase.
But human strengths arose to face their plight.

As help from other lands aid dreams betrayed.
Reminding all who lived that we are one.
United humans, tasting dread; strength stayed.
Compassion, peace, and love beneath the sun.

© © Dane Smith-Johnsen
January 31, 2010

Poetic form: Quatrain

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What 3 sins seem to cause most evil in the world

Dishonesty and
They are therefore to be carefully avoided at all times


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FREE CEE i ain't russian or Rush

So the government is going completely insane 
the way it usually does
there's nothing but       filibustering and disdain
and to get rid of what once was

there's eighteen months until the next presidential election
so the news is inundated with who, what and where
there seems to be no viable correction
while arguments and insults are all I hear

the president in power now is banned from doing anything good at all
every package he wraps up with a bow is knocked down
labor movements do nothing but stumble and stall
and every congressmen or senator is nothing but a pin-striped clown

god forbid both sides of the aisle should come to agree
but that won't happen because that would declare a winner
I hear talk radio with racial slurs that offend people like me
and guess who's not coming to dinner

so let's continue to flood the airwaves with scenes from the Twilight Zone
themes only the self indulgent can understand
while the newscasters refuse to reveal the unknown
with people like Rush Limbaugh and Sean Hannady leading the band
 © 2012....PHREEPOETREE ~free cee!~

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What do you believe of Jesus Christ

I believe that Jesus Christ is the Son of God
The Second Person of the Blessed Trinity
True God and True man
Great Prophet, High Priest and was anointed as the fullness of divine power


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White Lightnin

It's a proud family tradition

Here in the hills of Tennessee

My grand daddy brewed White Ligntin

And my daddy, before me.

It's just Cornmeal, water and yeast

Brewed in the family still.

Them revenuers can't find the place

They probably never will.

Don't drink it down, you sip it slow

It kicks like a stubborn ole mule.

There's a reason it's called White Lightnin

Some folks call it fuel.

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We are not all chasing our tails in the very same way
We are not all praying for the same thing every day
We are all just hopeful that he or she will come along
And we will find the embrace in which we belong

She’s chasing her tail with cockiness and guile
He’s using his witticisms and cogent smile
Other people use some subliminal style
While that one over there uses her tail to defile

There are people chasing their tails all around
And it’s discouraging not being aware to where you are bound
So we spin in circles getting to a place called “nowhere” with speed
All trying to get the satisfaction from someone else to fill our need

Our needs are invisible inside us but you can still see our tails
And some even resort to lies and deception when all else fails
As for me I’ve stopped chasing my tail and now simply chase peace
and if you ask me the cyber-deception should be sequestered and cease
   (c) 2011....~free cee!~ Phrepoetree

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What do we mean by grievous matter

By ‘grievous matter’ with regard to sin mean that the thought
Word or deed which is committed must be either bad in itself
Or severely prohibited
And therefore sufficient to make a mortal sin if we deliberately yield to it

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What do we mean by our predominant sin or ruling passion

By our predominant sin
Or ruling passion
We mean the sin into which we fall most frequently and
Which we find hardest to resist


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I've heard there is a one eyed Goddess.
More elusive than the Ignas Fatuus.
A violet cloud of Will o'the Wisp,
with one great eye and two red lips.

Looking for the perfect time
To grasp her heart and make it thine.
But beware her boots and her heart.
Both, severe pain, can impart.

Look for that one, special thing.
That'll Make her laugh, make her sing.
You find it but she will not see.
That one great eye wasn't looking at thee.

Perhaps there is special fate.
Two thousand years, not long to wait.
A lavender sylph, to embrace.
Find love here, or deep in space.

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Having been brought into the light with motherly mirth,
and it was a miracle indeed, beginning to breath...
being greeted by the first sunray
on a gelid, snowy February day.

As age added height to my stature, and handsomeness
already reflected in puberal looks and manly gestures,
a reminder was my persistent forte and call... 
that I had been brought up with fair love.

Had I been born in a different country, still my inherited genes
would have been the same with all the distinguished features, 
once born a male, one is the portent of virility...
to conquer with his sexiness all females genuinely. 

Many men are raised on excessive pride, according to custom,
I wouldn't have been brought up with fair love and loved with esteem...
if desire hadn't been the driving force
of the passions that altered my course.

Copyright 2010 by Andrew Crisci

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'Blood' Brothers or 'Bloody' Brothers under the Banner - Parts 1 and 2

“A dying people tolerates the present, rejects the future, and finds its satisfactions in past greatness and half-remembered glory.”

“A strong man makes a weak people. A strong people don’t need a strong man.”
John Steinbeck (Nobel Prize 1962)

        for the DEAD in the Struggle for EELAM


Ages from now, let it not be said:
  Blood spills only as brother dies.
Ages from now, let not peace be bled
  By chances lost now in sighs.

To the high nor low slams the door
  To him who seeks the Law and more.
Take, take the Golden Mean way!
  Truth your only key, don’t ever slay!

Where the elephant roams un-tethered free,
  The familiar myna will echo carefree
Words of yore buried in sacred memory:
  One breed, one species carved in ivory.

No greater fear simmers in the lowlands
  Than the stealth of brother against brother;
No higher disdain festers in the highlands
  Than vengeance lying in wait for the other.


Think not of the promises made and broken,
  Think only of the time lost and forsaken.
Every hour, every day, a life blown or taken;
  Every month, every year, a people woe-driven.

To the high nor low slams the door
  To him who seeks the Law and more.
Take, take the Golden Mean path!
  Truth your only key, never the lathe!

Think of Prince Paranirupasingham who to succour
  King Jayavira’s queen, to Kandy, fled his throne:
Abandoned to court intrigue, schemes and wiles encore:
  A princely retreat, a physician’s penance alone.

First governor, then regent, the last Jaffna King Cankili
  Learnt best the conqueror's cruel art of slaughter;
Then, fired by the local converts' iniquitous treachery,
  Revolted too late, his head the butt of lofty laughter.

Think of C.P. Ramanathan the island’s cause to defend
  Sailed over choppy seas past wild submarines
To raise the nation’s flag in the court of the Empire’s den,
  His homeward chariot drawn by one peoples’ teens.

(...continued in Parts 3 to 5)

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This is hard to believe but some people like me
Other people doN'Tt like me at all
Some other people and me actually agree
And some other people aren't like me at all

I am sometimes a bitter pill to swallow
Other times I am just what the doctor ordered
I am not a person any person should follow
And my friendship is usually ill-afforded

So to those who like me I say thank you
And to the ones who don't I say you are wise
Because I can turn to gray any sky of blue
And do it right before your very eyes
                      © 2012.copyright PHREEPOETREE ~free cee!~

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A Firing

As your immediate boss and superior
It behoves me to have to inform you
Your services are no longer required
A formal letter of termination will ensue!

It has nothing to do with performance
You've really done an admirable job
Believe me, I've tried hard to ignore them
The rumours from everyone's gobs!

You've stepped over the line, my friend
With this affair that has people talking
Each time you walk through the office
Sure you've noticed people gawking

I've tried really hard to turn a blind eye
And attempted to keep it hush hush
But now I just can't ignore it anymore
I'm beginning to turn into a lush!

Normally it's not a reason for dismissal
But you've caused me to endure such strife
That I must consider this a special case
Coz the partner in this affair is my wife!

©Jack Ellison 2012

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My God knows the way I am,
He knows my every thought.
He knows the things I've said and done,
And seen the dreams I've sought.

He knows my heart for what it is,
Knows each and every mood,
Depending not on what He's heard,
From those who think me crude;

For Man looks on the outer crust,
And sees not what's inside.
He hears but words that oft times twist,
And turn the truth to lies;

But God looks on the heart of Man,
And judges that instead,
Not foolish thoughts or actions,
Words that twist inside the head.

So do not judge your neighbor, Friend,
You don't know what's inside.
You only know the words you've heard,
That play tricks with your mind.

If you truly love your friend,
The way you love yourself,
You'll make the same excuse for him,
That you make for yourself.

                                                 1Samuel 16:7
                                           Proverbs 26:20

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FREE CEE nuclear haste


Forever is possible for those who believe
Some others forever, like her's, made this man grieve
Forever is a dream for those claimed certain
While for me forever is akin to a lead-lined curtain

She said “forever,” I heard the lady declare
Alas, for people like me forever is unceremoniously unfair
“forever” sometimes makes some people cry
Especially when one’s vow of forever is flaccid and a naked lie

I heard her vow “forever” but wish I had not
Because for lovers like myself forever is an unfair plot
My lover’s “forever” faded into a mist of mystery
Since for lovers such as me forever meant misery

She said “forever” but her forever offered an unfortunate fate
Until my forever became a forever filled with hate
Perhaps she voiced “forever” in a hurry and with haste
But as for me the only thing that is ever forever is nuclear waste
© 2012…..PHREEPOETREE ~free cee!~

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FREE CEE ----- nuclear haste


Forever is possible for those who believe
Some other’s forever, like her's, made this man grieve
Forever is a dream for those claimed certain
While for me forever is akin to a lead-lined curtain

She said “forever,” I heard the lady declare
Alas, for people like me forever is unceremoniously unfair
“forever” sometimes makes some people cry
Especially when one’s vow of forever is flaccid and a naked lie

I heard her vow “forever” but wish I had not
Because for lovers like myself forever is an unfair plot
My lover’s “forever” faded into a mist of mystery
Since for lovers such as me forever meant misery

She said “forever” but her forever offered an unfortunate fate
Until my forever became a forever filled with hate
Perhaps she voiced “forever” in a hurry and with haste
But as for me the only thing that is ever forever is nuclear waste
© 2009… cee!

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Red man, green man,
black, yellow, blue or white;
everlasting hate or never-ending fight.
Who cares man?

The unclean race lives every place;
perfection is a term of personal view.
The color red is but a shade of blue,
but life itself is the most lovely hue.

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In Ageing Decay

In a dying world
Turning to blacks and greys
The world we once new
In ageing decay

The sun that we knew
Was in steady decline
This side of the universe
It no longer wanted to shine

For it knew much more
Than we humans thought
Like everything else
We had it bought

But out there somewhere
There is a chosen few
What you read above
They already knew

For in a secret place
There is a fountain of new
To slowly fall in
Takes you to a world of the few

In a dying world
That's turning to blacks and greys
Enjoy while you are here
It could well be your last day

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the modern minuet

the modern minuet*

they're dying in Africa
people starving again
global warming is everywhere
and hate is engrained

the Sunnis hate the Shiites
the Shiites hate the Jews 
the Jews hate all Muslims 
and on goes the news

the EU is pissed at Greece
Greece in same boat with Spain
want to voyage to the Americas 
and start all over again

the hackers hate governments 
the governments hates the press 
the press fuels the citizens 
and citizens hate the rest

They're dying in Africa, 
there's still strife in Iran. 
What we don't do to nature, 
will be done to our fellow man.

© Goodguysoul 2015-01-24


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The Waterfall Delights

In a highland glen through a forest of green
For years untouched it has to be seen
Giant ferns from the prehistoric age
In this place where i walk is natures stage

Clearings so lush, breath taking sights
A break of a twig as pheasants take flight
Up ahead i hear the most delightful of roars
Like a magnet so strong, draws me to explore

A spray mist, drifts through the air
As enchanted singing, lures me to there
A rocky outcrop i reach, beside waters of blue
The song being sung, notes so true

In the crisp clear waterfall, bathes a maiden so blond
I watch the waters caress her, in delightful fond
Curvaceous and slim as the cold affects
Her body ripples to the cascading effect

Through the clear her hands glide in motion
Like the gracing waves on a tranquil ocean
A symphony, of mother natures sounds
Accompany her song in this wonderful surround

Who is this maiden that i view here
In this wonderful glen, on this amazing sphere
Bathing in water that gives so much to my lands
As i wish the fluid of clear, were my hands

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In the desert sand nothing flowers except ideas 
Yet in carpets of flowers it is suddenly blessed:
In the steps of  Jesus,  Mohammed and Moses
Towards Jerusalem never at peace never at rest.

Suffering long from  Babylon and  the Roman pogrom,
And from the  barbed wire of Auschwitz,   comes
A people with heads bowed in centuries of serfdom,
A people with eyes raised towards Jerusalem’s domes.

A young girl’s voice leads the song in a minor key
Always  in tension.  Always incomplete the melody.
To a single goal, the city of God, is the long journey:
Tomorrow Jerusalem,  but  will we yet see?

Moses was forbidden to enter the promised land;
Mohammed had to flee from there; Jesus went there to die.
It is always tomorrow in Jerusalem, never today.  In the sand
An impossible dream,  impossible idea of perfection may lie.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .


Although not in any way based on the lyrics of the song, 
this poem was entirely inspired by the song  “Yerushalayim 
Shel Zahav”, an Israeli folk song  composed in 1967, a most 
beautiful sound experience.

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The Bad Guys

we can make a toy
we hate those people who lie
we are living now 
but one day we will die

every one has a shelter to live 
who gives nothing to someone
we want a force for bad guys
we want to buy a gun.

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Giving advice is a great way to start;
they may not listen from the very beginning,
but ponder they will until their heart
makes changes and starts loving and living.

Helping partners grow in all their ability and amplitude;
it's a duty and an obligation on your part...
keep on persuading them and take them to that altitude, 
and they will learn and thank you for that!

Some brag about lending their hand with a hint so broad,
to demonstrate how much that individual has accomplished,
but why lay it in the open and let everyone alive know?
Friends never take credit for anything they've given or said!

Helping partners grow by the measure of your sympathy and tenderness,
can bring an overnight change; even a tender hug
is a hope glimmering...when all doors are shut and excessive droopiness
clearly shows in every action, word, look and feeling. 

Reminding others how helpful and kind you have been...
dredges up old vanity and exposes all your credits with intent,
but eschewing humbleness as an estranged, vague secret:  
is an eulogy spoken to deaf ears to get praise for your deed. 

Helping partners grow is the truest example of sworn loyalty,
to make the bonds of friendship stronger and steep them in deep sincerity, 
banishing bad thoughts and exciting the individual's interest in everything...
by letting that mind express new ideas and explore that extrasensory feeling.    


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Changes or Do They

Doth if not thrill thee, Poet,
Dead and dust though thy art, 
To feel how I press thy singing 
Close to my heart? 

Dread and dreary ye query,
While theist were living,
Thou had many words to say.
Thou wert a man of words giving.

An Actor of life upon stage of play,
Ye dodged many taxes.
Ye were a humble jester, they say.
Upon thee crest no axes.

Histories of you are many things.
Thou a talented writer were thee.
Actor, poetic writer as the past sings.
Mr. Shakespeare, “to be or not to be”,

I have read thou have had miseries.
Not unlike those of today.
Though under difficult hardships of seize.
Cultures change, as with life is still a play.

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Latin envolutio = unfolding, development
The growth of the final form of organisms over millions of years
Viewed from Christian perspective
Evolution takes place as God’s continuous creation in natural processes


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Salt Lake City, Jeckle and Hyde

It’s an unexpected pleasure Coming out of the mountains at night When suddenly in the valley below Are Salt Lake City’s lights While tearing down the mountain Driving my new Corvette That’s when I heard the siren Shit, I’m in trouble now I bet That officer tore me a new one He really put me down The way that he was talking I felt I was jailhouse bound It people like you that are at fault Giving sports car a bad name Then let me off with a warning After making me feel ashamed I spent that night in the city Then up early and on my way There just wasn’t much for traffic When it’s that early in the day I guess I had a heavy foot As I was cruising out of town There in my rear view mirror Flashing lights going around Oh my God, not again I got ready to be chewed But the office was quite polite Not like the one so rude He said son, you were speeding A bit higher than you should By the way, what size engine Is sitting under that hood? I tried to tell him all I knew About my Corvette Apologized for speeding Saying it something I regret Still being so very polite The office spoke words to me Here’s you speeding ticket son It’ll cost you a hell of a fee

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                         A FROWN OF HORNS

His was an ingenious idea, I must admit
Making all the pieces of bullsh*t to fit
So you get a lot of people to buy into your crap
Then claim you are taking a multi- millennium long nap

The only trouble is people may not believe
And you know about the web when one decides to deceive
When people start throwing objects that hurt
Especially those folks you cannot convert

One must first consider crosses and crowns
Because deceiving people has its ups and downs
The up side is the allegiance of fools
The down side is the consequence of breaking the rules

There were kings and all kinds of other things
Things that lying and deception brings
So I suppose one must think before taking action
And also consider the foolhardiness of a gullible faction

A faction for the fiction one decides to create
A faction of action for a fictitious fate
But you also created an enemy with horns
So you end up crucified while wearing a crown of thorns

As stated above the idea was effective at first
But what occurs isn't always what one has rehearsed
So your flesh gets flayed and scathingly sliced
And that was the price paid by Mr. Jesus  Christ
                            © 2012…PHREEPOETREE..~free cee!~

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free cee A PONZI THEME

          A PONZI THEME 

This is a tale ten thousand times told
A story about a young man who eventually grew old
If there are traps in life he avoided every hitch
This is a parable about a poor man who grew rich

This is a tale only certain people care to declare
Some folks do and others don’t dare
Stepping on stones like bones and treating people like pets
With the immoral means in which a driven man pays his debts

He made foes out of friends and friends out of foes
For unprincipled people like him anything goes
He had women bared naked and men kneeling at his feet
He was a heathen most moral men never get to meet

One of his multi-million dollar apartments overlooked the center of Central Park
He earned all those many millions by hiding in the dark
Each morning he arose to more lies and deception
And should have abandoned his abuses upon their inception

Yet smiles can’t seclude the truth one knows inside
And all the honesty his amoral ambition defied
So this has been a narrative thousands of year old
It recounts a man’s secret about his soul to whom Satan he sold
     © 2009… cee!

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Heaven And Hell

A ship avast
A mighty mast
With demon 'board
I take to task

A fork divides
The way ahead
I must decide
The course instead

The way to turn
Is up to me
This must affect
My destiny

The one will take me
Only good
And light shine on
Just as it should

The other dark
As it can be
A way does make
The death of me

But lead me on
The Devil's sin
To prod me to
And dark to win

But whoa I chose
The brighter path
And steer the ship
And take the mast

I lead myself
On course to light
Where demons fear
And take to flight

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So the government is going completely insane 
the way it usually does
there's nothing but       filibustering and disdain
and to get rid of what once was

there's eighteen months until the next presidential election
so the news is inundated with who, what and where
there seems to be no viable correction
while arguments and insults are all I hear

the president in power now is banned from doing anything good at all
every package he wraps up with a bow is knocked down
labor movements do nothing but stumble and stall
and every congressmen or senator is nothing but a pin-striped clown

god forbid both sides of the aisle should come to agree
but that won't happen because that would declare a winner
I hear talk radio with racial slurs that offend people like me
and guess who's not coming to dinner

so let's continue to flood the airwaves with scenes from the Twilight Zone
themes only the self indulgent can understand
while the newscasters refuse to reveal the unknown
with people like Rush Limbaugh and Sean Hannady leading the band
 © 2012....PHREEPOETREE ~free cee!~

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It's strange but so many people say the same fuc*ing thing
they say “take back that necklace, that bracelet and diamond ring”
those same people hand out the very same advice
they say “that heart you thought so warm ain't very nice”

I was busy thinking about today while they were talking about tomorrow
I was hoping for kindness while her cold heart was bent on dispensing sorrow
the dreams I built on prayers were swiftly coming apart
which urged them to say “don't depend on a hardened heart”

sometimes I can't express the depression I embrace
because she says ugly things time can never erase
she tries to justify her lies with one more falsification
and fading fleetingly now is a long deceased fascination

maybe my first mistake was trying to hold on to a lie
or perhaps it was believing a romance like ours could never die
but sometimes the sun seems so bright I'm made blind by the moon
for instance that she was using a man born with a silver spoon

and so that bracelet, necklace and ring remain in her possession
although she owes me more than a singular confession
so when those people tell me to listen to what my soul has to say
all I hear is my love telling me to simply run away

but suddenly one person says something that finally reaches my ear
and the joy we once shared turns into sadness and fear
that's when I find out that no matter how sweet love seems it can still so stalwartly sting
and that's why a pawn shop now owns that bracelet, necklace and diamond ring
     © 2012.....PHREEPOETREE ~free cee!~

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He set out on an errand,
That shouldn't take him long,
But somehow he got turned around,
Some turn he made was wrong.

He drove around until he found,
He never knew before,
This place has grown, these streets and homes,
Were strange to him for sure.

He finally made it home quite late.
She wondered where he'd been.
To admit that he got lost,
Would be a mortal sin.

They set out on a journey,
A family vacation.
They stopped and bought some snacks and pop,
At The Last Chance Gas Station.

They drove and drove until he said,
They had a situation.
It seemed they'd made a turn somewhere,
And missed their destination.

He should have asked directions,
When they had stopped for gas,
But he has this affliction,
Seems have penis, cannot ask.

                                       Judy Ball

A man will not ask for directions or instructions no matter how much he suffers without them. :)

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command six

kill the Catholic, kill the Jew
kill them all, draw sword 'n' slay 'em
kill the Muslim, the Buddhist too
spill their blood, creating mayhem

kill the Taoist, kill the Zen
kill the agnostic, kill the skeptic
kill all religious, come back again
wash away everyone seen as septic

kill the women, kill all the men
that other tribe, who you eschew
everyone who might be your brethren
take weapon in hand and kill them too

kill that other race of beings
kill the innocent, kill too, the guilty
kill anyone with peaceful leanings
kill wholly with unspeakable cruelty

kill all hope of ever finding peace
kill yourself for your own release
kill believing you'll justify
all these hates that in you lie

© Goode Guy 2011-06-04

the only good ___ is a dead ___ ...know it's sarcasm, ok

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Thunderstorms are fierce,
bringing devastation to Nature and humans;
and such are the Monsoon rains of all seasons:
a reminder of India's tragedies.

Torrents from clouds form wild rivers,
and everything is subdued by their force,
it brings to mind the Biblical Deluge
when only a faithful family found refuge.

Where houses, squares, churches and trees once stood,
now there are floods drifting people and animals... 
struggling to keep their heads above water;
many will experience horrible deaths without finding a road.

After they pass over the devastated region,
they will go the the next destination to cause more death
and incite survivors with ire and desperation...
then is God responsible, or is it Man who has no respect?

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beauty in the face

tossed upon the seas of love
the hateful soul unrepentant
sloganed roses read OsLove
to show humanity's decedents

what the stronger will stand for
bury the hate after the tears
no heating up of this cold war
speak to each in higher prayers

hate may have a home in Hades
but the people here won't bite
held high cool love to cascade
renounce hostility abolish fright

each individually, and as a race
stands at a fork in their road
turn toward love or a darker place
either way picked emotions flowed

these now stand voicing tolerance
flowers of acceptance held high
instead of falling into malevolence
individuals as a nation do reply

© Goode Guy 2011-07-26

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The Power Of The Positive

The joy that other people possess
Is well within your reach
We're all made up of similar stuff
I'm sure you've heard this speech

Well my friends, in my experience
It's a true and a provable fact
The more you look on the bright side
The more positive, people react

They observe your sunny outlook
Wish they could feel that way too
It doesn't take much effort
Positive thinking rubs off on you

Picture all that's right with the world
Of the things that you possess
Don't concentrate on the negatives
That will only cause you stress

Happiness is quite an infectious thing
Belt out one of those good time songs
Sooner or later believe me, folks
People will start singing along

It's the power of positive thinking
Happy always wins in the end
It's a human thing, we're born to laugh
So chuckle yourself silly, my friend

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FREE CEE a dull gull


So many people are intrepid sailors
I am but a sinking ship
Other people sale safely through stormy weather
As I watch my mainsail rip

So many sailors have such sturdy masts
Caressed by canvas and the wind’s tender kiss
I see them sail by with confidence aptly displayed
While my boat buckles and everything goes amiss

So many people head the helm toward paradise
A place were they throw anchor and shed the rancor of that blessed day
I see them standing tall at the wheel with pride as their guide
While I lack foresight and seem to do everything in a second best way

There are people who are intrepid sailors
As opposed to me who travels with an unholy hull
These people sail on while cutting through the wind like eagles
Alas, I am but a battered and grounded gull
© 2012…...PHREEPOETREE ~free cee!~

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I had hoped to beat the violent storm's shooting hail,
struggling through falling branches, some broken and some whole;
my mutt with a rigid tail growled steadily and pinned his teeth to my jeans,
and I stuck in mud, vainly tried to break loose, but nobody heard my screams.

Trucks loaded with tar drove by and the burning smell made me terribly sick,
someone thought I was the farm's scarecrow and threw a beer can at me,
and he even hissed and cursed with a deriding tone for my disheveled shape;
I waved like humans do, but he thought the gusts had shaken my hands with frenzy.  

Lucky me it wasn't winter, the warmest wind slapped my unconsoled face,
naughty quails flew over to pick strawberries hanging from my torn hat;
all of a sudden a few became a herd, and my body was being mouled into pieces, 
and before I turned into rags and bruises, the farmer came running with his rake. 

And I stuck in mud, I yelled for help, then all the birds flew away with discontent,
the middle-aged farmer introduced himself with his sourthern friendliness;
what would I have cared about his hospitality, if he hadn't pulled me out of the dirt,
and hadn't taken me straight to the shower, and given me some clean clothes?    

This was my immediate need, and he saw it in my disgusted mood and slow thought,
and with his witty Tennessee accent, he addressed me as sir as if I were his officer superior;
respectable and kind, without prejudice for a yankee, he picked me up without effort,
and singing a country tune, he lied me down on the back seat without slamming the door.

Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci

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The nations
Down hill slide

Other countries
Causing harmful
Loss of pride

Will the donor
Give me back
My heart inside

Is there no peace
All the weapons
Try to hide

Is there only
My salvation
In my hope
Is it a lie?

Can there be
A place to where
Laws are written

Will there be
A place where only
Words are spoken
From inside

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When he was just a baby
Upon his mama's knee,
He was smaller than an elephant,
And larger than a flea.

And when he was some older,
And had to go to school,
He was duller than a genius,
And sharper than a fool.

Then, when he was a young man,
In the prime years of his life,
He was younger than his mother was,
And older than his wife.

Now that he is middle aged,
He's really very glad
To be older than his grown-up son,
And younger than his dad.

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Miles of broken, sunbaked seashells,
resembling pieces of porcelain of lesser value,
lying across a populous beach subdued by misty blue,
as hungry sea-gulls pounce the fiddler crabs..

The beach entertainer draws huge crowds;
singing funny songs and making comic skits
by spicing up his unique modus operandi,
and modestly mocking his modus vivendi...

He has never made lots of money,
but settles for dollar bills to earn their sympathy;
dressed in tight and colorful ministrel's attire,
he amuses the public with his monkey-shine...

And he pulls out his fiddler and the crowds go wild,
awakening, by its high-pitched sound, a dope fiend,
who has built a shack in this unsafe place always threatened by the blowing sand;
He puts on his dirty sunglasses and disappears in the groovy sunshine...

The beach entertainer follows him, leaving everyone behind, 
saying," Sorry, brother...I didn't mean to wake you up, the bum turns around with sad eyes
and exclaims, " Music doesn't fill an empty and aching belly...and cheer up a feeble mind! "
" Here's all I got...take it and get something to eat!" The beach entertainer whispers.

Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci

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they say we'll come to our end one day
they say we just won't matter
they say we'll become our own prey
with thoughts as mad as a hatter

they say we'll run out of water
they say we'll run out of food
they say we'll kill or be slaughtered
they say we'll come to no good

they say civility's near an end
they say there's no use in tryin'
they say our actions only portend
civilization's weakness's underlyin'

they say we don't know what we're doin'
and perhaps it's true, we don't 
seems like the whole world we're screwin'
but maybe the prediction's overblown

maybe there's another bend to turn
maybe there is another angle
maybe 'stead of like before, we'll learn
to sort our emotions to better unscramble

maybe love can actually conquer fear
maybe there's a brighter dawn to come
today's weathered is tomorrow's all clear
maybe empathy is our new rule-of-thumb

© Goode Guy 2011-08-08

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There ain’t no one that will say I make sense
There ain’t no reason for me to mask a pretense
There ain’t no reason for anyone to hear what I say
Because long before they understand I’ve taken my away

I live in a big city but feel so small
Bouncing from lovers like rubber ball
So I stand on a soapbox speaking to them all
Waiting for the sky or the skyscrapers to fall

I promise them prognostications that will never come true
While I explain why the dove with an olive branch flew
He left his nest with babies begging to be fed
because God’s son and Satan’s daughter are wed

I sweat on the concrete trying to teach what I’ve learned first hand
I was taught that at fancy parties people like me are banned
I also learned that somehow people see through my facade
And ain’t no one who’s going to forgive me, especially God
           © 2011.…~free cee!~  

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Can't we all just get along,
were the words that Rodney spoke.
They flashed those words across the screen,
and then we all made jokes.
But shouldn't this be a lesson,
on how we treat each other?
And ask ourselves why we hate,
just because of color.
The world is filled with variety,
in every shape and size.
And in it are amazing colors,
pleasing to the eyes.
There seems to be some wisdom here,
meant for me and you.
That Green has no more authority,
than does the color Blue.
We labor hard to display our yard,
with the perfect array of color.
But we seem to forget, the point of it,
when considering one another.
We all have one thing common,
and will until we're dead,
Inside the veins of each of us,
is found the color RED.

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What effect has Lust on our souls

Lust begets in our souls a distate for holy things
Perverted conscience
Hatred of God
Frequently leads to complete loss of faith

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Lost Love

Lynn Mibell and I slept
on a flattened futon and dreamt
of better days. Days when her 
dear brother was not dying of AIDS.

Days when our love life flourished.
When we walked hand in hand
along the bold face of 
Stone Mountain. We were giants.

We danced all night in New Orleans.
After partying all day on the horse-
racing track of the Heritage
Jazz Festival. We danced on clouds.

As if our legs, our feet were
divinely influenced, kissed, kissed
kissed, by the gods, superhuman.
Now, Lynn Mibell lays 

on that old bed and dreams of
nothing short of  monumental
change. Nothing short of
ending good and evil universally.

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To give and give and never take back. That
in essence is pure satisfaction. In a sense
it opens up the senses
and helps you find what you've been looking for.

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Old Age??

My age is getting up there
middle age is knocking on my door
They say I shouldn't worry...
I'm only thirty four.

I'm noticing the wrinkles.
I sense that double chin
is creeping right up on me.
Fight gravity?? I can't win!

I use to feel so youthful.
I thought I'd never age.
Back then I planted flowers.
Today I'm growing sage.

Sometimes I forget my own age.
It's not that I contrive.
Like when I wrote my bio here

Is that a sign of old-age?

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It's Rarely Known

It's rarely known but studies have shown
Pencils last fifty thousand words
Worms eat themselves if they can't find food
Now I find that totally absurd!

It's rarely known but studies have shown
Elephants can't jump, wish they could
An ostrich's eye is bigger than its brain
I know people that applies to, or should

It's rarely known but studies have shown
Right handers live longer than left
How many people just decided to switch
Nine years longer, who would've guessed

It's rarely known but studies have shown
In Nebraska, you can't burp in church
As a matter of fact, you can't sneeze either
From some recent up-to-date research

It's rarely known but studies have shown
A giraffe cleans its ears with its tongue
Charles Osborne hiccuped 69 years
Wasps taste like pine nuts... I'm done!

It's rarely known but studies have shown
Ninety-nine per cent of these are true
But I must confess, there's a couple I fudged
Now you won't report me, will you?

©Jack Ellison 2012

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Should we give up trying to be good when we seem to not succeed in overcoming our faults

We should not give up trying to be good when we seem not 
To succeed in overcoming our faults because
Our efforts to be good will keep us from
Becoming worse than we are


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What effect has sloth upon the soul

Sloth begets in a soul
A spirit of indifference
In our spiritual duties and
A disgust for prayer


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We Are The Power

Look out your window
And what do you see
A land of beauty
And all in purpose is free

Conglomerates all over
They grind and they mine
Who tells them to take
What is yours so defined

Elections must change
For tomorrows today
As we are the people
And our thoughts you must say

Be in power
As we have granted you grace
But we are the power
To remove you of place

If you can't be upstanding
Especially, from where you came from
We will know you as weak
When you thought you were strong

For we are the people
Your bosses we are
If you do whats right
We will allow you to star?

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What is actual sin

Actual sin is any willful thought
Or Omission contrary to the will of God

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Birth is the beginning of a quest
which is unseen to human eyes,
sadly ending on our unpredictable death,
but not living another day shortens that distance.

Who decides our fate in ways so drastic,
unfolding events happy or tragic?
Who diverges the course of our days,
when hopelessness grips our desperate souls?

If dreams are built to become exinct,
to suddenly turn into detritus and dust... 
devastating us enough to dessicate the expanse
of hope, why is joy lacking the feeling of genuiness?

Despair is utterly exgeneous,
exploding when thoughts become tense,
expanding as wild fire to burn everything 
in its destructive path...leaving only embers behind.

Some choose to end life,
not valuing its sacredness and purpose;
shouldn't we be thrilled to exist as David was
and be immensely grateful, or defiantly denounce our belief?     

Gracefully age as Moses did,
never thinking of shortening the distance;
gain more wisdom as you live...
to discern what's beyond madness to reduce incidence. 

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Building your own spaceship
is a very complex project in order to explore our universe;
a degree in engineering is needed...
other than patience and willingness and lots of flight tests.

Many skilled engineers must assist you to help you succeed,
a payload for study with space travellers and astronauts;
and it needs the proper speed to go beyond the athmosphere...
to manuever it in outerspace without any mechanical problems. 

Building your own spaceship takes months or even years,
it depends on shape and size to travel with the speed of light:
a prototype is required to figure out the traveling distance...  
there can be no flaws in its performance, it must be perfect.

Once all tests are completed, it can be launched into space;
hoping it will return to Earth timely for a safe landing,
and how happy you'll be having designed a successful spaceship...
go back in time and observe Leonardo Da Vinci inventing!

Entered in Matt Caliri's contest  How to build a spaceship

Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci

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Out of love, Eternal God sent Father Christ
His Son into the World
Because of sin, dying
Death of our earthly bodies, also eternal death

Father Christ spoke often about eternal fire
Awaits all those who reject Eternal Father’s merciful love in Father Christ
All who reject the Eternal Son rejects eternal life
He alone who he brings are condemned already

The condemnation is eternal separation from God
What Father Christ refers to as the “hell of fire”
The “furnace of fire”
The “unquenchable fire”

Hell is something man chooses
There are only two ways
Leads to Life
The other leads to death

For the gate is narrow
The way is hard
Leads to Life
Those who find it are few

The narrow way is Father Christ Himself
He said “I am the way
The truth
The life

Following Father Christ means
Following the Church He started
Following the way
Following truth and the life
No one comes to the Eternal Father
But by me”
In Jesus, the Eternal Father has made
A way to life for us

How foolish of me to refuse
I don’t like the means of help He has chosen
For my salvation
I chose to take the help He gave


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FREE CEE the sum of some people


Some people are just nice at no price
I mean like chicken soup when you're sick type of nice
or mow your grass when you're back is fighting back
nice as in providing everything important you lack

some people care about a person who cares for them as it should be
concern born of consideration for all they hear and see
they'll go out of their way to make a way for you to get by
considerate people who can actually cry when you cry

some people are simply congenial for congeniality's sake
they are neither phony, have an agenda or are fake
they are real and honest as Our Father was when he walked the earth
i'm talking about people with manners, politeness and worth

some people just want to be of help to mankind
simply to relieve the nine to five in their mind
others want to help make a dream come to be
and then there are the heartless scoundrels like me
   © copyright 2012.....PHREEPOETREE ~free cee!~

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Get to Work

Men at work, bumper to bumper
tensile traffic, thick black bitumen.
Everything seems to last longer 
then that grey granulated concrete

that extends from Bodega, Cali-
fornia to Savannah, Georgia.
Blacktop pot-fill smells like
the solid and searing work of roofers;

hardhat knuckle down workers,
men that stretch skyscraper towers,
or suspend themselves over
the ledge of the Golden Gate Bridge.

If only this endless line of steel
on rubber wheels could steam roll
past the frustrated flashing lights
and pinstriped lattes honking horns.

If only these orange jump suites,
(sloth shaped men on armrest shovels,)
spent less time blathering like this poem,
we’d all be able to get to work. 

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When we were young we made a choice 
The moment we were born, 
To cast aside our innocence 
And so forever mourn. 

This heavy burden must be borne 
By those of us who seek, 
To follow those forgotten roads 
And shelter all the weak. 

For us we chose a grinding task, 
The highest of all goals, 
We chose to care for all mankind; 
To save their very souls. 

Now onward through the dying day
We fight our way ahead,
We killed for every step we took,
With every step, we bled.

When darkness comes and claims our lives,
Us shepherds dead and gone,
Who next shall rise and take our place, 
To lead the people on?

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What is Sloth

Sloth is laziness of mind and
Through which we neglect our duties
On account on the labor they require


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All these God does for you

He is never too busy for you
In fact, He 'longs for your prayer'
At any time of day or night
No matter where you are

You have full
Complete, and
Instant access to the Creator
King of all things

He listens to every word you say
He desires conversation
He knows everything
He made you and all that you love

He knows you intimately and only desires for your good
He will share your burdens and struggles
Rejoice with you in your triumphs

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My Back To The Sea

Here I am
Back to the sea
With a myriad
Facing over me

Should we all
Stand and fight?
Work things out
Till broad daylight?

Courage sings
Out in her voice
The din about
Don't have a choice

Now to take
Your place in line
Forthwith you may
Become divine

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Greek = measuring God, rule, norm
The authoritative collection of 
Sacred scriptures in 
The Old and New Testament of the bible


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How is sin divided

Sin is divided into the sin we inherit from our first parents
Called original sin
The other we commit ourselves is Actual sin
Actual Sin  is sub-divided by greater amount of sin or mortal sins and lesser sins is Venial sin

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O Jesus Christ

To turn away from You is to fall
To You is to stand
To remain in You is
To have a sure support


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                                                  SMOKEY AND ME

Smokey was a funny cat,
Filled with fun and love;
Adventurous as all cats are,
And Master of the Hunt.

He stalked the house in search of that,
Which posed some kind of threat,
A bug, a mouse, a ball of yarn,
No pest escaped his net,

That he had formed around our house,
He took responsibility,
To protect us from it all,
Because we were his family.

From babyhood he was my ken,
He always slept with me,
We played for hours in the yard,
Beneath the old Oak tree.

We climbed my swing set, climbed the tree,
Played in my sand box too,
Imagine my surprise to find,
He used it for a loo.

Kitty cat and little girl,
Fought jungle wars, climbed trees,
And then we sailed the Seven Seas,
Buccaneers were we.

We'd hide behind the sofa,
The curtains or in the hall,
And wait in ambush for our prey,
We really had a ball.

My sister's boyfriend happened by,
One night as we were hiding,
I yelled,"Chaarge!" and Smokey leaped,
The boy knocked off the siding,

On the book case in the hall,
As Smokey climbed his leg,
And we were sent to bed that night,
'thout supper though I begged.

Incarcerated pirates we,
The game continued on,
We'd wait until they were asleep,
Then eat til it was gone.

Then we'd escape into the night,
With valuables they cherished,
We'd be away by early light,
Leaving the guard embarrassed.

                                                    Judy Ball

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Father Christ Deal

Eternal Father saw outnumber of people’s sins 
Sad with what He created
He wanted to destroy the world
People hurting each other

Father Christ stopped Him
Told the Eternal Father He would go down to earth
Take People’s cruelty
To start His power over people

He told the Eternal Father people would understand
Ransom Himself
Not to destroy the world
Believed people to be one

Eternal Father searched a woman
To conceive and bear a Son
Angel Gabriel spoke to Mother Mary
You have found favor from (Eternal) God
Holy Spirit will shine over you
You are to name Him Jesus
He will save people from their sins
To save destruction of the world

Father Christ started a Church
For People to be Universal
People don’t understand
In His Church people are saved

What are these other churches?
In there you are not saved
Don’t be fooled
By the Christ’s like religions

There is only one
Deal to the Father
Be Universal to His Church
Roman Catholic

To understand the Two Greatest Commandments
“Love God all your mind, heart, body and soul”
2nd is “Love your neighbor as yourself”
When we love our neighbor, Covers the 1st Greatest Commandment

Other Churches are misleading people
Thought they loveFather Christ
Person who created their Church 
Was the person they believed  and loved

Father Christ is very hurt
People don’t know in His Church 
You’re saved
In others you’re condemned


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What is Anger

Anger is an excessive emotion of the mind 
Excited against any thing
It is an excessive desire for

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FREE CEE a frown of horn

                         A FROWN OF HORNS

His was an ingenious idea, I must admit
Making all the pieces of bullsh*t to fit
So you get a lot of people to buy into your crap
Then claim you’re taking a multi- millennium long nap

The only trouble is people may not believe
And you know about the web when one decides to deceive
When people start throwing objects that hurt
Especially those folks you cannot convert

One must first consider crosses and crowns
Because deceiving people has its ups and downs
The upside is the allegiance of fools
The downside is the consequence of breaking the rules

There were kings and all kinds of other things
Things that lying and deception brings
So I suppose one must think before taking action
And also consider the foolhardiness of a gullible faction

A faction for the fiction one decides to create
A faction of action for a fictitious fate
But you also created an enemy with horns
So you end up crucified while wearing a crown of thorns

As stated above the idea was effective at first
But what occurs isn’t always what one has rehearsed
So your flesh gets flayed and scathingly sliced
And that was the price paid by Mr. Jesus  Christ
                            © 2009… cee!

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Everyone will see one day

Little girl, don't be so low. You're gonna be something someday, don't give up hope, keep hope alive. Even when the road gets rough, remember how much tougher you are than anyone else. I have faith in you, faith that you'll make it through. All the lies that they tell you, all the broken promises they made, won't stop you from becoming someone. You'll be there soon, just let the negative become the positive. when they throw stuff in your face, pick up yourself and see your way out. The bruises and scars only make you who you are, so smile because they're breakin' you is only making you. You will show the world one day what all made you that way, and they'll be asking for you, there's no doubt. So don't sit there and pout, because the day will come when everyone will see what they made you become.

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Many people own what they refer to as a “cash cow”
A farm animal who produces milk to drink and make cheese
Well I am like an aged farmer praying for his last field to plow
And all I have is a cow who consumes cash if you please

Many people eat food that rots them from the inside out
I, however, use substances that rot me from the outside in
With certainty I am doomed by daily diatribes of doubt
The result of my walking side by side with sordidness and sin

Many people reap rewards from being reverent, religious and good
I, on the other hand, am plundered by impiousness and a lack of pity
It’s always been my plan to take advantage of those whom I could
And using fools who are foolish enough to find me oh so very witty

In actuality I’d decline a “a cash cow” for a small semblance of peace
The kind of peace I find only in devastating substances which sustain me
My sordidness is self-evidenced by sins that seldom if ever cease
And even foolish fools finally find the intelligence to disdain me
      © 2009… cee!

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From Latin creation = making, producing
The idea that God Himself by His direct action 
Created the world all at once
As if the book of Genesis were an eyewitness account


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Top of Form 1
I don’t know very much at all
I know red means stop and green means go
I don’t live in the deep south yet I have a southern drawl
And I also know the things that I don’t know

At first it was difficult admitting that fact
To tell people that I’m not so wise
Then I’d explain all the things which I have lacked
Such as a traditional upbringing which is no surprise

Perhaps it’s the fact that everyone in the family has bruises
Yet no one goes to the emergency clinic for aid
And in this family there are no winners nor fu**ing losers
Everyone beats every one just for a minuscule mess he may have made

Two ostensibly ordinary people are bringing their kids up with military rules
There was a lawyer down the street but we could never nerve up and go
We may be mistreated, mishandled but we’re no damn fools 
And as I said, the only thing I know is that which I  don’t know
©   (2011)….Phreepoetree ~free cee!~ 

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Locked Away

My husbands actions locked with my soul and remained at our frount door,
He reenlisted again and had left for the Afganistan war.
My eyes became swollen the tears begain to pour.
Then all of a sudden, for some reason, one day I wasn't mad at him anymore.
I inwardly waited to hear his keys rattle and his duffle hit the floor. 

Quatrain - a hopeful heart

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Things necessary to make sins mortal

Three things are necessary to make a sin mortal
A grievous matter
Sufficient reflection
And dull consent of the will

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Rain is more than a blessing,
watch it from a window pouring...
birds take a long bath as little springs form;
and kids run outside to get wet and dance in the storm.

Rain is good for every tree, pant and flower,
and on them we daily rely for food and adornment...
plenty of showers in warm spring, thunders in scorching summer;
the happy eyes of farmers love to see it fall on fields for a bountful harvest.

Without rain the earth would be a huge desert,
no plant life would survive in arid soil and the cattle
on prairies would aimlessly roam to find a river for their thirst, 
many will die and the cowboys without their wild horses wouldn't be so festal.

Rain is a source of wealth and more than a blessing, it promises
pretty roses in bloom, abundant fruits on trees and wheat with golden kernels
in the fileds, where those stuffed scarecrows protect them from very hungry ravens;
imagine life without rainfalls, it'll resemble the somber moon with dry valleys and canyons.

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No, seriously there are people worse then me, and I’m a lothario and a liar
But then there are bastards who see an empty warehouse and for fun set it afire
I commit crimes and hold people I have pity for as hostage while holding a gun
But stoned cold junkies, unlike me, do horrendous things solely for fun

I knocked down and old lady……………….. cane and f*****g all
Once I had her bread you think I gave a damn that she’d fall?
S**t, I’d rob my grandmother and later on promise her a soft and silken shawl
And listen, when robbing an inhabited home the floorboards will squeak
if you walk but not if you crawl

Turn your back on me b***h, I dare you, and leave that diamond ring right there
By the time you turn back around the diamond is gone and my running footsteps is all you’d hear
Invite your folks over for dinner on Thursday but tell your mom you want to see some jewels
You keep them busy, while I rob them blind because one thing I ain’t is one of those fun-loving fools 

What I am saying essentially and I hope effectively is that there are certain people you simply can’t trust
The ones who think havoc is a game, for there are none so blind and ashes to ashes and dust to dust
I’ll climb up a six story building to an apartment because I know there are riches in apartment six “B”
Christ, I’ll beat a man half to death if I want something of his and he doesn’t agree

So look out for the ones who lie like a Lothario and will rob you blind
And you all deserve to be robbed because you’re rich and undoubtedly unkind
While the old lady was dressing I was undressing her closet of gold
And when you stare into my sky blue pink eyes realize you’re missing things that I’ve sold
I’ll wield a sword honed so sharp and a very frightening knife
And believe me my acts of thievery would be rotten and rife
I harm, threaten and rob people and then go home to my wife
She makes a really good pot roast, and knows I could never really take a life
           ©  2011.….Phreepoetree ~free cee!~  

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FREE CEE read this and every seagull that skims the waves will die


It's strange but so many people say the same fuc*ing thing
they say “take back that necklace, that bracelet and diamond ring”
those same people hand out the very same advice
they say “that heart you thought so warm ain't very nice”

I was busy thinking about today while they were talking about tomorrow
I was hoping for kindness while her cold heart was bent on dispensing sorrow
the dreams I built on prayers were swiftly coming apart
which urged them to say “don't depend on a hardened heart”

sometimes I can't express the depression I embrace
because she says ugly things time can never erase
she tries to justify her lies with one more falsification
and fading fleetingly now is a long deceased fascination

maybe my first mistake was trying to hold on to a lie
or perhaps it was believing a romance like ours could never die
but sometimes the sun seems so bright I'm made blind by the moon
for instance that she was using a man born with a silver spoon

and so that bracelet, necklace and ring remain in her possession
although she owes me more than a singular confession
so when those people tell me to listen to what my soul has to say
all I hear is my love telling me to simply run away

but suddenly one person says something that finally reaches my ear
and the joy we once shared turns into sadness and fear
that's when I find out that no matter how sweet love seems it can still so stalwartly sting
and that's why a pawn shop now owns that bracelet, necklace and diamond ring
     © 2012.....PHREEPOETREE ~free cee!~

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Now And Forever

Running in
But running out
Things we hardly
Talk about

Do we make it
Through this mess
Are we breathing
At the best

What to call
The state we're in
Sometimes love
Sometimes sin

Will it be said
We did our best
Is the table
Ever blessed

Are there those
Who will attest
We ran the race
And passed the test

Now is God's
Time ever giving
Do we stop
And trust the living

Only time
Can say the end
Here and now
I must depend

Run the gambit
Ever hoping
Human race
and God eloping

This the end
Of earthly know
Left behind
No life bestow

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Graces in each moment

God doesn't ask much of you
Just cooperate
With each grace
He gives you in each moment


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There are too few people who get me
The ones that know what I am and what I do
Some of them understand and let me
And one of them was you

There are certain people who are aware
They know where I’m headed and set for what course
There are certain people who were just born to care
And they’re concern isn’t born of force

No, these are the people who see what I am and don’t mind
The ones who worry but somehow know I’ll make it through
People created by this universe simply to be kind
And too oft I don’t know why they do what they  do

Perhaps it’s the smile I wish was inside my frown
Or the happiness I’ll probably never see in a world of pain
Someone who lifts me up when I  fall down
A humanitarian who protects me from a torrential rain

Some people see in my eyes that I ain’t all that wise
Yet they put up with the things my body tells me to do
Certain individuals who I consider an unexpected prize
        Phreepoetree   ~free cee!~

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floral arrangements

when the Rose dries up
and wilts at her hips
and love tilts down
and she softly quips

that she's not happy
scents of love past
her flower has died,
that love couldn't last

it could all stem from
prickly feeling thorns
reckless whisper's eardrum
some heated words sworn

that too easily slip out
from a human's proud lips
to cause a lover's doubt
and begin the apocalypse

takes nourishment to grow
attend to floral arrangements
but, should it droop into woe
an irreconcilable estrangement

know that petals are everywhere
for pistols and pollen's blossom
just water it and give it care
nourished with tender wish often

Daisy will light your sunny side
Violet's royal purples will enthuse
Jasmine's scent will softly confide
too, you'll know Iris' blues

to tell what is usually meant
of life and draws of relations
flowers are always heaven sent
a sensory celebrated jubilation

© Goode Guy 2011-10-20

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There ain’t no one that will say I make sense
There ain’t no reason for me to mask a pretense
There ain’t no reason for anyone to hear what I say
Because long before they understand I’ve taken my away

I live in a big city but feel so small
Bouncing from lovers like rubber ball
So I stand on a soapbox speaking to them all
Waiting for the sky or the skyscrapers to fall

I promise them prognostications that will never come true
While I explain why the dove with an olive branch flew
He left his nest with babies begging to be fed
because God’s son and Satan’s daughter are wed

I sweat on the concrete trying to teach what I’ve learned first hand
I was taught that at fancy parties people like me are banned
I also learned that somehow people see through my facade
And ain’t no one who’s going to forgive me, especially God
           © 2011.…~free cee!~  

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Maybe Crazy

They said I was crazy,
They called me insane,
But I know for certain
That I've got a brain.
I know all the skeptics
Wish on me shame;
The Voice in my head
Has told me the same.

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I never claimed to be your teacher
You want to learn s**t go to your local preacher
But when you enter his sanctuary don’t make any noise
Because he may be having sex with one of the alter boys

I never claimed to be your guru
I only taught and repeated exactly what you knew
You followed my example and don’t blame that on me
You had a litany of ways to say no but you thought I could set you free

I never claimed to have a method of any god damned use
My method was a lie and a weapon to protect myself from human refuse
While you allowed me to lead you into the garbage dump of waste
Where people like us come to play with other people who are all two-faced

I never claimed to know what you or I should do
And I never claimed that I’d even care for you
I took no oath, no vow, no promise or predetermined pledge
Only you chose to follow me. just like a lemming, to the edge
     © 2011.….Phreepoetree 

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Why must I be betrayed by people I respect the most?
Everything in my life has become a contradiction
All I hear now are cowards who are quick to boast
And any respect I had for these people turned out to be pure fiction

Why must the people I consider friends treat me with enmity,
When they should be eager to concede to a simple request?
Why do people I consider allies all seem not to care that I deem them the enemy,
And answer to the demonic voice of the devil’s behest?

I have no place to hide as I used to in crowded bars
I have no place to run from people who sold themselves out for a few sheckles more or less 
I am left with a wounded lamb and a body marred by bloody scars
And only sorrow for cowards that this burdened man is left to confess

I used to have a grand design which demanded I fulfill
I used to have an objective which made perfect sense
living life with only time to kill
and trying to sleep when i'm too fu*king tense

i've been betrayed by family and friends
they've all deserted me in my time of need
there were so many beginnings and too many ends
and now I have an ego this confused man must feed
      © 2012...copyright PHREEPOETREE ~free cee!~

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I used to work all night
And I slept all day
Sometimes I even 
Forgot to pray
I liked my job
It was plain to see
I liked to work
With the elderly
They made me feel good
Even in a mess
It was a nice warm feeling
I hope God will bless
The patients with love
To give and to share
I can tell the people
That it's me...I care
So if you're near
And you need a friend
Go to a nursing home
It's a friend 'til the end

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A life well lived
A loving and caring being
His smile made our hearts leap
Such a fragrance only he could bring.

A lot was said as he was lying in state.
So much love served but could no longer be eaten
Backlog of people swarmed in because of him
So great a crowd, his dwarf house had no space.

Indeed his life was love made cryptic.
At least from the little I knew of him
But never knew it splashed off the beaten track
Nor beheld so much admiration while still ticking he was.

Exquisite words fell on ears dumb,
The very ears they are meant to chin up.
I wondered why they had to twiddle their thumbs
Till he was about to bite the dust.

If only he knew how much love he created
It would have pushed down his throttle plate
And he would have fired on the more
Till all was given and none left to draw.

If only he heard these words during his time
He would have left with a better smile.
And it would have eased the strenuous life
Which is everyone’s plight.

I know I cannot follow this road.
Everyone that makes my heart flutter must know
At least this debt is the little I should pay
For the love that comes freely everyday

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Desire in this World

Take time to establish your desires both your soul
Life on this earth
This period should lead with accomplishments from the past
Most people in this world take long to discover what they really want


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our poles

how could we be so diametric
opposed even in the littlest things
leaving us unendingly apoplectic
unconscious of what each other brings

to the field of our mutual magnetism
lines of attraction wide-out arcing
bridging polarities of our schism
creating bonds of thoughts sparking

possibility for a new way of viewing
and thinking about each other's worth
without being steeped in conflict brewing
creating our own little hell on Earth

the ear and tongue can come together
from individuals or partied nations
to pass feelings and beliefs on better
than weapons or harsh worded oration

would all the melting ice around 
maybe stand a chance of washing away
hurts and hates from common ground
allowing us to meet each other halfway

© Goode Guy 2011-09-16

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A bon vivant lyfestyle 
of the Bohemians de Paris,
has always saddened and deluded me...
by seeing it in someone's happy smile.

Mademoiselles and jeunne hommes, 
exchanging artistic and poetical ideas
at the Cafe' de Flore, or at the Les Deux Magots...
with coffee aroma on their breaths.

Living in legendary and vibrant Hollywood 
is an honor to be seen with the admired and respected wealthy;
and whoever struggles, can't keep up with any of them...
whose only desire is the glitter of money.   

And steadily dreaming of a bon vivant lifestyle with an aloft
imagination, I let this want often disrupt my peaceful sleep...
not being able to accumulate, quickly enough,
fortunes and stand on that pedestal of greed.

So snap out of fantasy and don't peruse into La Dolce Vita
of Hollywood! Stay away from those extravagant fashion shows!
And at the Cannes, Capri or Venice Film Festival, avoid contact with movie stars,
stare at them from far...they are as contagious as influenza.

Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci

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did the Greek philosopher Socrates
ever have thoughts of his own mediocrity,
did Buddha in meditation contemplate
belly-button lint in his belly button sedate?

maybe some Confucian spiritual medium
pondered dust in minute trivial tedium.
did Newton while conjuring Newtonian physics
diverge integrals to converge sum to basics?

who might think the relativity Einstein thunk
of rusted tin-cans, rocks and other space junk
the universal ideas of Hubble and Neils Bohr
might spring from ordinariness, not much more

did Jesus when building blocks of religion
view a mud stain on his robe with derision?
did Mohammed when thinking deep thoughts
find his mind became distracted, distraught?

did Edison surmise that he wasn't too bright
at candled table where he invented the light?
did Voltaire care what Michelangelo did know?
do mediocre minds reap what deep minds sow?

do great minds when thinking of great things
see the law-of-averages that mediocrity brings?
did Spinosa know that mundane goes a long way 
to get most'a us through an ordinary day

my supposition is, yes, even great minds digress
intrinsically, mediocrity, is part of all humanity

© Goode Guy 2011-09-22

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Who Does The Work

Think of people in terms of a car One which has been somewhat departed Some have an engine, but no starter So someone has to get them started Some have starters, but no battery They need that spark to get it going They never can see what is needed Unless told, they just stay unknowing Some people are missing all these parts They never do anything at all You can find them in the welfare line Like a leach, they’re enough to appall Then there are those that have all the parts They recognize what needs to be done And since they are also self-starters They’re done, while others haven’t begun If you have something that MUST be done Seek out and ask the busiest clerk Why? Cause ten percent of the workers Perform ninety percent of the work

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organic industrial

rusted, busted, inorganically crop-dusted
hand-made on our very own assembly-line
low-flying tear-crying, cut-rate-buying
fair-trade-priced, but still...real fine

garment sweat-shop, Tex-Mex field crop, 
Civilization Inc. prophets chanting it up
workin' twelve hour days 'til you drop
drinking Cool-(Inc.)-aid from corporate cup

the ol' family farm is right in the box
ol' Bessie's mooing fer all she's worth
sounding par per share of preferred stocks
increasing quarterly statements net girth

consume we must, as our numbers grow larger
we're either counted victor or the victuals
we consume awhile or face early departure
incorporating civilization's declared rituals

how many human souls can one world hold?
how many other species get a place here too?
how can we temper our needs uncontrolled?
how can we help Mother Earth get through?

© Goode Guy 2012-02-11

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Song of Pride

I sing this song of Pride

For those who have no voice.

I march this street in honor

Of those who had no choice

The Stonewall Riots, where it all began

Our fathers took to the streets.

To demand equal rights and justice

No longer will we take a back seat.

I sing this song of Pride

For Freedom and Liberty.

I march this street to honor

Those who've gone before me.

On Santa Monica Boulevard

On this cloudless, beautiful day.

My Gay brethren by the thousands

Are standing proud to say.

We sing this song of Pride

Equality is our demand.

Those closet doors been shattered

We're proud to take a stand.

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The Condemned

I am a mass murderer, or so I've been told.

I have been convicted, I sit here alone

This 10x10 cell has too long been my home.

My appeals are exhausted, there's nowhere to go

The clock on the wall, ticks closer to twelve

In just mere minutes, I'll be sent hell.

Guilty as charged, I do feel compelled

To unburden my soul before I am felled

My victims were taken, with nary a care

Simply because, they happened to be there.

I took what I wanted, from anyone, anywhere

They didn't deserve it, it wasn't fair.

The warden has now arrived at my door

To take me on my last walk, down that long corridor.

I've never taken life, so seriously before

Now that I'm standing outside the chamber door.

The poison injected, will course through my veins

My systems will shut down, I prey there's no pain

To my parents, I'm sorry my life was lived in vain

To my victims families, I apolgise again.

I'm a condemned man, with no one to blame

I'm a condemned man, filled with sorrow and shame.

I've wasted my life, and now I must pay.

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What are chief sources of sin

Chief sources are Seven
Pride, Greed, Lust
Anger, Gluttony, Envy and Sloth or laziness
Commonly called 7 Capital Sins or 7 Deadly Sins 

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People's eyes are not what they proclaim,  
if only they reflected their truest selves by being fair....
they certainly would offer charming smiles when they wink,
and nobody would keep from them or resist them...

On the boulevards of the big cities,
they briskly glance to admit surprise...
perhaps not too friendly as the country ones,
but still fascination sparkles in them to stupefy us...

People's eyes tell of love's tragedies and tales of past glories,
Juliet's eyes madly in love with Romeo who saw beauty and poetry in them...
Shakespeare who wrote of the madness in Hamlet's eyes,
the Danish Prince, who swore revenge when his father's ghost appeared to him...

On the suburbs' streets different faces are seen,
not as sophisticated and cold as the metropolitan, scurrying ones...
warmer and less irritable, not chasing after missed busses and trains,
a big difference in the fast-paced rat's scene...

People's eyes staring from sullen and joyful faces, immortalized by the images
of the serene and angelic ones chosen by the painters of the Middle Ages;
saints and innocent souls calling upon God's forgiveness and clemency,
and the Renaissaince gave us endless works of art so admired in all of Italy...

Observe me and look into these bright and confident eyes,
what is the feeling you get from their friendliness...
sincerity, unpretentiousness and a loyalty too unquestionable?
Are there any other charms that make them so noticeable?   

Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci

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whatcha mean it's not spec-tac-u-lar,
it's not the king's spoken command
the way I mean to say ver-nac-u-lar
it's just my talkin' outta hand

don't cha know how folks here talk
syntax of emotion, of little import
music to some ears, others can balk
when e-nun-ci-a-ting an angry retort

it's jus' the way we'z born 'n' raised
don't mean we're not savy 'n' smart
you shake yer head dismayed and fazed
'cuz what is said ain't no work o' art 

dude, you learned with the brightest
and know many words and their meanings
of our notions you ain't got the slightest
idea 'bout this neighborhood and its leanin'

form your opinions, but best be circumspect
'cause we talk diff'rent don't mean we can't
infer that you don't unnerstand our dialect
'cause we say "shall not," 'stead of "shan't,"

jus' means we ain't gonna...don't wanna

© Goode Guy 2011-07-12

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From Latin magister=teacher
Term for the mandate of the Catholic to present a faith
Interpret it with the Holy Spirit
To protect it from falsifications


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What kind of sin is drunkenness

Deliberate drunkenness, always a mortal sin
If the person is completely deprived of the use of reason by it
But drunkenness is not intended
Or desired may be excused from mortal sin 

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Before I had a boy's perfect body,
the sharpest mind and a spirit full of energy;
even strangers complimented me
on my selflessness, asking God to bless me! 

Had I known then that youth wasn't eternal, unlikely the indelible seasons
that renew themselves accordingly, I would have had
a different view of how it should have been lived...
with a more purposeful insight, which allowed no time for regrets! 

And that boy's perfect body, carved by loveliness , 
could be seen in photographs belonging to another century;
thick hair and a smooth face defined a neat appearance...
to make plenty of girls stare at me desirously! 

O young years, why didn't you warn me of your hastiness?
I could have made the effort to slow you down,
and enjoyed you more without ever wasting time in idleness!
Beautiful and care-free days, how can I posses youth again?

I am still kind of handsome, much older now,
and ladies adore my good looks, once flashing a sweet image   
in those attractive and radiant smiles of long time ago,
not worried about any wrinkle revealing their true age! 
Before I had a boy's perfect body...
magnificently sculptured like Michelangelo's David;
my adolescence began with my physical beauty,
and ended with that ravishing vanity tossed aside!    

Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci

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flowers are for living

see the roses, red and white
see the glads, serene and noble
the bouqueted mums, radiant and bright
see the orchids, beautifully boastful

smell the scents for all intents
pulling our memory back in time
remembering joys from past events
family and friends, the days sublime

petals soften life's hard terms
the leaves greening up the day
the pollen sits on stamen's tips
reminding, life carries on, what may

flowers are for the living
from the wellspring of existence
remembered, even in our grieving
blooming our hearts to reminiscence

© Goode Guy 2011-12-13

for a dear friend

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I have many qualities and talents 
that make me popular and likeable for my kindness,
and unpretentious gallantry;
ask me if I'm blue-blooded like the gentry!

I exist for a purpose and I intend reveal my cause;
honesty and shrewdness will guard me against errors...
do weeds grow in a well-maintained and embellished garden?
A grubby garden attracts gloominess, mine appeals to sunshine!

I have traveled down rough and dark roads,
grabbing the attention of bad-wishers,
who handed me gooseberries, not gorse;
it was a clumsy course swarming with rocks and thorns!

I exist for a purpose that puts fear into my unseen enemies,
who grumble and judge more than the-assumed-righteous-ones,
they are obsessed with their perfection and like to impose it on me;
but do they know that I control my destiny by spinning my fortune' wheel?

My belief is not to accept anything of worthless beauty,
I love to hide myself in the grain fields,and shake their stalks...
to celebrate a harvest more bountiful than sunflowers;
and I imagine myself gorging on fresh-baked bread daily!

O golden grains, your seeds satiate many that earn their hard living,
saying grace at God gives them His blessing;
and those hands that cut the husks off are much detested   
by the elite with a feeling of inferiority and a lack of gratitude!

I exist for a purpose to bring glory to the Heavens,
that magnificently dazzle upon me in times of desperate need;
pity is an unacceptable word whenever they attempt to make a deal;
I change no direction and try not to fall into the trap of moral weakness!

 Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci

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she not only brought me my meds but we slow danced together

We are not all chasing our tails in the very same way
We are not all praying for the same thing every day
We are all just hopeful that he or she will come along
And we will find the embrace in which we belong

She’s chasing her tail with cockiness and guile
He’s using his witticisms and cogent smile
Other people use some subliminal style
While that one over there uses her tail to defile

There are people chasing their tails all around
And it’s discouraging not being aware to where you are bound
So we spin in circles getting to a place called “nowhere” with speed
All trying to get the satisfaction from someone else to fill our need

Our needs are invisible inside us but you can still see our tails
And some even resort to lies and deception when all else fails
As for me I’ve stopped chasing my tail and now simply chase peace
and if you ask me the cyber-deception should be sequestered and cease
   (c) 2011....~free cee!~ Phrepoetree

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East Berlin
Before the wall fell
Under the lamppost
In silhouette tell

So still they stood
To a window they look
They put the fear of death
In scare ridden spook

These Ministry shadows
Who haunted neighbourhoods
Persecuting the weak
Because they know they could

After the wall fell
It became their demise
This Stasi, State Security
In all out despise

Many people died
Or simply disappeared
By these silhouettes under the lamppost
That a nation feared

After the wall fell
They were hunted and traced
This Stasi, State Security
Have finally been erased

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FREE POETRY a tower of power

              A TOWER OF POWER           
There is power and there is might
there is the ability to summon what is in store for me
there is a way to shake off another lonely night
and that's what brings out the strength of the weakness in me

when I am tempted and my soul says no
it knows instinctively what I should and should not do
my heart tells me where and where not to go
and my basic nature tells me what is and is not true

some people heed that small voice inside
others decide to deride a derogatory dictum
some people have the will power to stay on grace's side
while still others become temptation's victim

there is the ability to summon strength when needed
and then there's the inability to decide what and who you want to be
whenever I feel like a fallow field un-seeded
that's what brings out the strength of the weakness in me
 © 2012....copyright PHREEPOETREE ~free cee!~

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In the master plan by the MAN
Who created the human race
All humans were made sociable
And earth became their place

Friends are such a necessity
An important part of your life
You couldn’t exist without them
That would bring on too much strife

Casual friends maybe abundant   
You can never have too many
There are also special friends
 And it’s nice if you have plenty

There is still another friendship
That on rare occasions can exist 
Lucky to have just one of these
It’s number one on my Short List

These people are my “Peerman” friends
If you’re “Peerman”, you are the best
These are special people to me
I’m tighter with them than the rest

A relationship built on trust
Where it easy to be yourself
A leaning post that always there
You’re never put on the back shelf

There is a mutual respect
You’re always free to speak your mind
 An open book to each other
That can be read at anytime

Throughout the stages of my life
I’ve been blessed with some friends like this
Some of those from way back in time
Are now lost, since I was remiss 

I vow that will never happen
To the “Peerman” friends that remain
I know that friendships such as these
May not ever happen again

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What is Covetousness

Covetousness is Greed
Part of 7 Capital Sins
Or Deadly Sins
Greed is an excessive desire for worldly things

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Red light District

Short shorts skirts and spike heeled shoes

In the Red light District of your town

On the darkened street corners

There's pleasures of the flesh to be found.

Blondes, brunettes and redheads

Working girls they are.

They earn their living selling flesh

To hungry men with expensive cars.

In the Red light District of your town

Law Enforcement lies in wait.

To persecute and to arrest

Using decoys as bait.

You'd think that the Police

Would have better things to do.

The streets are filled with criminals

That prey on me and you.

Cheap Motels and alcohol

In the Red light District of your town.

No matter what your looking for

Cheap Thrills do abound.

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I trashed many deserving and precious loves in bloom
down my favorite path, where lovely lilacs grew;
I took everything they offered me with an eager hand,
but heartlessly buried thier worth underneath the cold sand... 

How did I become too inconsiderate, too selfish...
by showing no regard for their genuine feelings?
They loved me as if I was the only man alive having only one constant wish:
to spoil me with kisses and keeping me warm in their passionate embraces! 

I constantly bite my hyprocritical lips, thinking of what I have done,
and guilt pounds steadly inside to rebuke my unkind deeds;
they wanted friendship more than gifts and fun...
they are strangers now, ignoring my greetings!

Intentional or not, I pursued pleasure instead of amability,
taking advantage of their vulrerability, leaving their sincere hearts empty;
doesn't an impish child get what he wants with his annoying cries?
That was me, so insensible and unfair, stealing trust and affection to satisfy my urges...   

How did awareness reduce me to this state of misery?
They caught up with my clever lies and shut the door into my face,
reminding me that all good friends are hurt by dishonesty;
and now how can I win back their trust and not be affected by old malice?  

How did I become too inconsiderate, too selfish so driven by duality? 
I put me first, leaving their intense desires behind;
they deserved to be understood and be truly loved,
without an indication of doubt from someone too impervious to their plea... 

Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci

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There are hungry mouths
in every country of this planet,
and everyone should help with little or much;
how can we stand see them suffer, and helpelessly die on their beds?

North America the wealthiest nation, which God bountifully blessed, 
has its poor living in drug-infested and run-down neighborhoods,
faces that are never seen by the unsuspecting visitors;
these unfortunate people have known hunger, not savored a delicious banquet! 

Whose fault is it the Government's or the uncaring parents'
who have neglected them, and is it their permanent plagues:
rugs, indifference and lovelessness that have reduced them to this awful and shameful state? 
They should blame themselves, not those governing and giving them handouts!

Africa is the worst continent hit by a lack of food caused by corruption,
everywhere the eyes turn: they witness the fate of those dying without a word of consolation;
mothers clutching their little ones and their daily laments are still unheard...
seeking water, while all beasts have become the skeletons of their devastated land! 

The Vatican always sends missionaries to the African people to proclaim Christ, the Savior;
and it has vehemently invoked the pity of the wealthy and the kind to ease their misery;
and Pope Benedict XVI prays on his feeble knees, asking for their generosity!
Why can't He relinquish His guarded treasures and feed them a hundred times over? 

I am not a KIng or President  and slabs of gold, locked in volts, I have not; 
and with the little I have...I will share with them and keep my conscience intact!
Reach out, world, and eradicate this disease that's killing millions of unlucky folks;
leave your seas and deserts, your cities and towns and be among them to end this curse!

There are hungry mouths in each corner of our earth so marvelously blue,
mouths with lips that are cracked and dry; bodies writhing in undeserved pain!
Find them in Africa, in South America, or anywhere you'll be traveling to:
unattended perishing souls....dying without dignity and so alone! 

Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci

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More than a Word

Gay is more than just a word

It's a simply way of life.

From Fire Island to the Bay

We live, we love, we laugh in a very special way

We hurt, we grieve, we cry

We live, we love, we die

So try as you may, we won't go away

Gay is here to stay!

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My Instructor, Bill

Flew control line planes till I met Bill Who said, RC is the way Give up that stuff, I’ll teach you RC It’s a more fun way to play RC stands for radio control Had to buy a bunch of stuff I bought it all as a package deal Bill said, “You now have enough” Bill and I hit it off from the start We seemed to both think the same He was a top commercial pilot Retired and loves model planes An experienced and good teacher He would patiently cajole He helped me get my trainer all built Taught me radio control When the day came to give it a try Bill hooked up a buddy box That enabled him to take control Keep the plane out of the rocks Bill saved my bacon many a time Help keep my plane in one piece He’d give enough slack so I could learn But knew when to “pull the lease” Little by little I learned to fly Gave me a really big thrill The comradery was half the fun The credit all goes to Bill

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Twelve Apostles

Greek apostolos = someone sent, messenger
The names of the twelve apostles are these
First Simon, who is called Peter [Roman Catholic’s 1st pope] and 
Andrew his brother
James the son of Zebedee 
John his brother
Matthew the tax collector
James the son of Alphaeus 
[Judas [Jude]] Thaddeus
Simon the Cananaean and
Judas Iscariot, who betrayed Him
Mt 10 2-4


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What is Gluttony

Gluttony like Greed
Excessive desire of Food or Drink
Part of7 Capital sins or 7 Deadly sins
Jesus Christ requires one to confess

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love is never benign i think
but like a tumor grows inside
to bring us cast to limit's brink
unknown until inevitable slide

into full despair of high elation
like an animal roped and netted
pulled to inevitable taut sensation
humanity's deepest appetite whetted

love is a creature on primordial legs
slowly crawls up from human seas
insistent, despite our pleas and begs
walks into lives to sorrow and please

cursed be the wretched box it's in
that binds a love behind high walls
roped passion prevents futures been
lovers' angst, voice passioned calls

love wrenching in its thrusted want
still, as gentle as brushing cheek
requited expressions attainably haunt
to banish hearts by turns oblique

or like fog,  can appear on feline feet
to paw its way into every heart
warm and purring to quietly entreat
we love, we feel, that we're a part

must a soul wander to ever find
as, lorn are we, to symbiontly share
pain and joy with a likened mind
that other card that makes a pair

what's left to do but tramp a trail
seeking, e'er seeking for yang's yin
puzzling pieces on a worldly scale
for love's whisper in humanity's din

© Goode Guy 2011-12-08

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NEVER TO re appear

Every day good people simply disappear 
Yet a letch like me is forced to still be here
I am jealous of the ones who get themselves lost
Because for me living comes at too great a cost

I can’t seem to stop paying the price
Even though for me every day is like rolling the dice
“where the hell could he be?” I want people to ask
Because just waking up is such a difficult task

Most people know what their day holds in store
But as for me I don’t care to be here anymore 
however there are ties that bind that keep me tethered somewhere
Because seeing the world being polluted is something I cannot bear

Before the sun says hello I’m up and cursing that I awoke
My soul is hardened and my heart has been broke
Broken too many times because I do things wrong
So I never find a place where I really belong

I’ve gotten to the place where if I meet someone sweet
I try to chase her away with flames, fire and heat
It’s because disappointing her is all that I fear
Other people do, so like them why can’t I simply disappear?
     © 2011..~free poetry!~

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What is Pride

Pride is an excessive love
Of our own ability so that would
Rather sinfully disobey
Than humble ourselves

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Satans Angel

She was as wild and as wicked

As a woman could be.

Yet Satans Angel

Has a hold on me.

With her breath of fire

She torched my soul.

Like a raging inferno

Burning out of control.

With but a fleeting touch

A hypnotic glance.

She held me captive

In this evil romance.

She took me to heaven

On gossamer wings.

Thunder did roar

The angels did sing.

Unbridled passion

Set to flight.

On a restless journey

On an endless night.

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deeply, as i sit, i look far beyond
there exists a whole time before now
knowing, or not what's come upon
i can't seem to recall it somehow

your name, your place, your very face
in my existence mean so much 
i think back, try to valiantly retrace
who you are, where we met, and such

yet i see you now in this very moment
and think i recollect an idea put forth
to "live in the now" persuasively potent
that's the best i can manage henceforth

when i grow old, should i be demented
please remember as i try, but cannot
my expressions to you blank, absented
my love for you that i mostly, forgot

© Goode Guy 2011-06-22

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Watching As Life Goes By

Watching as Life Goes By
     By Dane A. Smith-Johnsen

The Interstate Traffic,
Composed of many folks,
Landscapes very graphic
In sun or when rain soaks.

People on vacation
Or driving fast to work
Going to the ocean
Sunbathing is the perk.

Don’t forget to mention
The meetings meant to sell.
Leaving for conventions.
To learn how to do well--

Children visit mothers.
And reminisce for fun.
Young sisters and brothers
Are quickly on the run.

Going here, going there
Doing this, doing that.
Maybe to a state fair
To judge a hog that's fat.

Birthdays, weddings, parties!
Gone shopping very fast.
As busy as a bee,
Too long, such rushing lasts!

Meanwhile, cows in pastures.
Watch many cars go by.
Partaking nature lures.
Greeting the bright blue sky.

Likewise in the woodlands,
With the Interstate nigh-
Watching, I hold God's hand.
With peace, while life goes by.

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A stranger place

I'm just a stranger here
the neighbors smiling at me from ear to ear
I've been gone for far too long
even though it's only the first year

There are sparrows walking this ground
a scarecrow stand forgotten and on the porch a dead coon hound
This is a nexus, a rip in my common space
I'm standing amidst this crowd but I'm no where to be found

And raindrops are falling beneath my feet
A mother losing her way hangs up her bedroom sheet
I want to run away from this melancholy shame
but there are so many faces here forcing us to meet

The sharper the knife the duller the man
My daddy had once said this but how was I to understand
that a man aint just a body walking around a town
and that if a life he takes then he's to be judged by the land

There is blood on the highway, yet no body to be seen
all these empty ghosts here must make it Halloween
but I'm just another puppet opening up a closet
just to see the backyard to find out what it might mean

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Surrounded by silence and draped with a linen sheet,
to keep dust from your natural sheen,
and protect you from direct sunlight;
not from the loneliness and gloominess of your night...

How thrilling and gratifying was to hear
the gleeful or moody notes,
when these careful fingers 
played an octave:  either lower or higher!  

Never abandoned for a long period,
always tuned-up, free of dust and ready for play;
a companion that loved being spoiled,
by letting me improvise the melody of the day... 

Let me see myself in virtual reality, stately and taut, 
sitting in my stylish pose, and hit the keyboard,
transcribing a musical comedy by sharp memory
as the chords make up my distinct harmony...    

Be dormant no more, come alive and rejuvenate your tones: 
as the spirit that inspires the mood of your melodies;  bring back
all the tenors and sopranos to this forgotten stage so dark, 
and let them sing the arias they choose within the range of their keys....  

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Banjo Bill

It was spring when he arrived in town Came to Tucson, just to look around He was seeking weather that was right Wanted to pick Bluegrass every night Heard about a new picker in town “Hot banjo” was the word going round When we met, he said, “I’m Banjo Bill” Down from Iowa with time to kill He and wife Cindy came to my jam Heard his Banjo and became a fan I hope he sticks around, this guy’s good He may be moving here; knock on wood Soon he said what I wanted to hear In the autumn, we’ll be moving here So easy going and fun was he His banjo playing sure impressed me Bill moved to Tucson five months later His banjo play couldn’t be greater Today he plays in four different bands As a banjo picker, “He Is Da-Man!”

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Her Natural Charm

I stared into the heated sun
The brightness blinded me this morn
I must have died, when I gazed upon
I felt as if, I was then reborn

The brightness there before my eyes
Left dots before my very sight
A body warm and sunny full
Filled my eyes with radiant light

She walked just seven steps ahead
As my eyes caught up to see
The radiance emitted by this woman
Had melted a hole in me

Her beauty that was naturally born
She wore with taste and pride
It’s why her beauty was so outshone
By what she had inside

For she walked with an air about her
A certain grace she had to her feet
That’s why the sun had blinded me
This morning on the street

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FREE CEE she is a perfect example


People want to f*ck with me for their own god damn kicks
playing games, Russian roulette and playing me for a fool
getting in my way, getting away with murder and getting in their licks
making out like bandits and making up rule after ridiculous rule

“don't do this and don't ever lie to me”
when i'm not lying and swear up, down and sideways
but they are intent on making me what they want me to be
and if their ever kind to me it's only a fleeting phase

people want to mess with my mind and make me think it's my fault
when all the time it's their paranoia and ego at play
they have me hopping to it and hopping mile high vaults
and don't give a good g*d damn about the honesty I display

they call me a liar with no reason to say such a thing
they think I'm somewhere i'm not and have have been
they'll tell me I gave them a rhinestone when I know it was a diamond ring
and what they do to me is a mother f*cking sin

some people won't hold their tongue when I just want to hold their hand
other people want to play with my mind  no matter what I say
well there is one thing I want them to know and to understand
if that's their stick then stay out of my f*cking way
             © 2012......PHREEPOETREE ~free cee!~

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The Stalker

I'm across the street in the shadows

I'm nowhere to be found.

But I can see everything you do

I can hear every sound.

When the time is right we'll meet

Then for sure you'll know.

That I'm your stalker baby

I own you body and soul.

I'm with you everywhere you go

I'm nobody that you know.

I've been inside your house

I've even worn your clothes.

The Shadows are my cover

I blend in with the night.

I'm your stalker baby

Watching you is a delight.

he sensuous feel of satin

That hugs your ivory skin.

Sets my soul on fire

My thoughts are all of sin.

From just outside your window

You don't even know I'm there.

I could just reach out and touch you

Like a phantom in thin air.

I'm your stalker baby

Possession is my game

To torment and to terrorize

Is my claim to fame.

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President Clinton-Part Two

Oh dear lord

What will we do

If we get stuck with

President Clinton - Part two!

The people of this country

Will get what they deserve.

If they are foolish enough

to vote for HER.

A woman for President

Not a problem that I see.

But I'd vote for Lizzie Borden

Before I'd vote for that frigid Queen.

Once firmly enthroned in her Castle

The Liberal left will be in their glory

But as for the average American

We'll sure as hell be sorry!

So on this day, I say dear Lord

Give the American people some sense

Send anyone other than Hillary to Washington

And keep this wicked viper from our nest

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Pounding heart and scarlet face
spitting out hurtful words at quick pace,
screaming voice and broken pride
welcome to your other side.

A hungry lion ready to prounce
inside you, inside you, about to bounce,
deep breaths go out and in,
then calmer, calmer you begin.

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The Orpheum in Winter

Eating the paint on the Orpheum walls
are the voices of every performer
Some dressed in black with pearls in their hair
Some straight from England (Paul Weller)
Truthfully, I've been left freezing myself
eating the cup of the deep yellow moon
lifting the music out past the old walls
of this beat up Victorian room
Frescos are heavenward scrolling and spun
faded out velvet on chairs
A spit of a girl now behind the tall mike
not a one of the men in her life still is there
She is a replica of each of these seats
and what they contain there with in
The crying and torture of bruised and bled souls
left over from yesterday's sin
She is the voice of collective remorse
They're sorry for spilling the moment
The room heaving breath from her following's sigh
releasing their beaten up torment
All of the paint absorbs the dark air
and peels on like acid to rain
Orpheum walls, once a grand concert hall
Now home to, and bursting with pain.

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Something should be done

About�the way you tantalize men.

You bring out their beast

Then you start to condemn.

You use the gifts God gave you

You're a temptress and a tease.

You've got a body built for sin

It brings men to their knees.

You can make us do your bidding

Your charms, I can't deny

You'll blow our minds and send us

Soaring across the sky.

When you decide the journey's over

And we come crashing to the ground.

Headlong into depression

We're left thrashing all around.

Our egos crushed, our hearts are broke

We can love no more.

You've taken all that we can give

We're now ships that have run ashore.

Your a temptress and a tease

Whose heart is made of stone.

Someday you'll know, the games you've played

Have left you all alone.

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Ode to Tammy Faye

Her name is Tammy Faye

She was once married to Jim.

They built a successful ministry

Till trusted friends did them in.

They spread the word, of the Lord

They ministered to those in need.

They lifted the spirts of millions

They spread the gospel seed.

Her personality, vivacious

Her talent sings to your heart.

Her style, somewhat audacious

That's what sets her apart.

My God have mercy on her contemporaries

They're liars, phonies and cheats.

May God bless Tammy Faye

She's genuine and sweet.

Thank you Tammy Faye

From all whom you have served.

May Gods love bring the healing

You so richly deserve.

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Why did Christ lived that long on earth

Christ lived for about 33 yrs to show us the way to
Heaven by
His Teachings and


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The Ultimate Diva, known as Cher

An exotic Beauty, with talent so rare.

When on the Stage, she reigns supreme

I worship and adore her, she's the ultimate dream.

There is no one out there, that can compare.

Her legions of fans, they will attest

Cher is the one, the only, the best.

She is a star, of the first magnitude

A heavenly voice, so strong, so true

There is no one like her, anywhere.

Not surprising since she is after all... 

The Ultimate Diva, known as Cher.

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What are the effects of Venial sin

The effects of venial sin are 
Lessening of the love of God on our heart
The making us less worthy of His help
And weakening of the power to resist mortal sin

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What is Temptation

Temptation is anything that
Or Urges us to offend God

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Rip Van Winkle

Wake me from my slumber
As it’s been too many years
My hair has grown so long
I even have a beard

I slept there as a boy
But awakened as a man
Not learning all I needed
To be the best I can

So now I must endure
Many learning days ahead
I’ll be careful not to let myself
Fall asleep when not in bed.


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FREE CEE this tower has power

              THIS TOWER HAS POWER

I dwell in a place called “the tower of prayer”
within there is only one bed and one empty chair
there is no door and if you want out they won't accept any pay
the only way out of this tower is to thank Our Father every day

the tower teaches me that a man can be alone and still feel free
but that doesn't hold true for a weak man like me
they say this tower is the one and only
and it also teaches me that a man can be alone and will feel excruciatingly lonely

within this spire there are no tower mates
and each of us pay varied and sundry rates
those who pray for themselves pay more
and if you pray for others you may finally find the door

if you should one day discover yourself a resident at “the tower of prayer”
keep in mind there have already been a million souls there
almost a million people have suffered until the sequestration is done
and the amount of people who prayed His way out is only one
  © copy write 2012....PHREEPOETREE ~free cee!~

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Ever After

Ever ending
Even after-
Life depending

Do we go
On ever meeting
Changing glances
Ever greeting

Will He judge
Us by the hand
Do we live
In His command

When we die
Do pay our fate
Does one ever
Come too late

Is it over
Or the not
Will we find
What time forgot

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What is Envy

Envy is feeling sorrow at another’s good fortune and
Joy at the evil which befalls him/her as if
We ourselves were injured by the good and
Benefited by the evil that comes to him/her


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From the Latin credo = I believe
The first word of the Apostle’s Creed became 
The name of various formulas of the Church’s profession of faith
In which the essential contents of the faith are authoritatively summarized


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free cee A DULL GULL


So many people are intrepid sailors
I am but a sinking ship
Other people sale safely through stormy weather
As I watch my mainsail rip

So many sailors have such sturdy masts
Caressed by canvas and the wind’s tender kiss
I see them sail by with confidence aptly displayed
While my boat buckles and everything goes amiss

So many people head the helm toward paradise
A place were they throw anchor and shed the rancor of that blessed day
I see them standing tall at the wheel with pride as their guide
While I lack foresight and seem to do everything in a second best way

There are people who are intrepid sailors
As opposed to me who travels with an unholy hull
These people sail on while cutting through the wind like eagles
Alas, I am but a battered and grounded gull
© 2012…...PHREEPOETREE ~free cee!~

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I'll Never Forget

Eagerly, with baited breath, I await the morrow
Contemplating the fulfilling effect of the bliss
Dreaming about the beauty of the relationship
From the meeting someone new, to a surprising kiss

Contemplating the fulfilling effect of the bliss
I feel excitement in knowing what is in store
Two minds coming together as one, for one goal
Fulfilling one another, while providing even more

Dreaming about the beauty of the relationship
We are two minds that come together, now as one
Knowing the other’s thoughts and schemes
Playing, as well, in the burning heat of the sun

From the meeting someone new, to a surprising kiss
I recall just how we two needed each and met
Coming together with a bond, mutual goals
Now I have a friend, a kinship to never forget

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Keep Trying

Water washes over me
pushing me further down.
I keep trying to stay afloat
afraid one day I'll drown.

Someday life will get easier
for us, I'm sure it will.
Just now it feels like we are pushing
dead weight up dead-man's hill.

I love to know we're in it
together till the end.
No matter how much stress we have
We'll always be best friends.

My partner, lover, but mostly friend.
You are my everything.
When I am tired and can't stand up
that's when you whisper in my ear...

Thank you for your strength.

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Pain of the Street

The concrete jungle is my home

This cardboard box, my shelter from the storm.

I never I thought my life would be like this

Never thought I'd deviate so far from the norm.

You avoid my gaze, you look through me

You pretend I don't exist.

My being homeless makes you uncomfortable

You swear, you would never live like this.

Food and shelter, you take them for granted

Once upon a time, so did I.

I used to have a job and a home and a family

I lost them all, once I started getting high.

My drug of choice was cocaine

A wicked taskmaster is she.

A Twisted domineering mistress

I am but a shell of the man, I used to be.

The cold hard sidewalk is unforgiving

The streets are filled with crime.

I beg like a dog, for a scrap of food

Because I don't have a dog gone dime.

I try not to look in mirrors

I don't like the image I see

I avoid my reflection in windows 

There's a pathetic, wretched old man, staring back at me.

I pray that in Gods Kingdom

There's a new home waiting for me.

One where there is no hunger

No pain, and no poverty.

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He Wants To Retreat

Ardent passion of going high,
Desire to touch the illusion of sky,
Tempted to earn fame and name ,
Restless effort to reach the aim, 

All led to a point of commitment 
To earn wealth to uttermost extent, 
Where, each success enhances thirst. 
Thirst of advancement seems the worst ,

When one forgets to celebrate present success, 
Out of fear to miss the next chances to progress, 
Ignoring surroundings and overtaking all ,
Though, he  reaches  his goal after all, 

He is in discontentment and melancholy, 
Despite his dreams fulfilled , he is wealthy.
He finds himself in a darkness of agitation, 
The rivalry of growth and competition. 

Within the roar of glory of success,
Receiving compliments and praises, 
His peace-less surroundings remind, 
His true happiness is left behind.

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Any good quality a thing should have
A thing is perfect when it has all good qualities
God is infinitely perfect
For he possesses all good qualities in a highest possible degree

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Spirit of Love

I hope one day 
the world discovers

The Spirit within
that unites us as brothers

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"Our family isn't normal!",
you often like to say.
What's wrong with popping wheelies
in a mower race with Ray???

So what if dad likes mooning
and showing off his rear.
You might see when you're older,
You will face your biggest fear.

Your house will be just like ours!
Your kids will all be nuts!
I hope you're ready for this life...
Do you think you've got the guts?

Will you laugh it off
when your "sweetheart" needs a ride...
(even when she say she hopes
you'll duck your head and hide?)

I hope you will remember 
how it felt to be thirteen.
When your family isn't normal,
and your dad's "King of the Bean".

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Fisticuffs at 42

A tussle
A fray
A skirmish
A soiree

A fracas
A fight
A scuffle
A blight

A scrap
A brawl
A melee
A free for all

A quarrel
A clash
A donnybrook
A birthday bash

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Have You Ever Wondered?

Have you ever wondered...
how it feels to be alone,
to wonder if you'll eat today 
or where you'll have to roam?

Have you ever wondered...
how it feels to be afraid,
to know you can't cry out for help
because you can't be saved?

Have you ever wondered...
how it feels to cry at night,
to wonder if there is a God
and if He'll ever make things right?

Have you ever wondered...
how it feels to ache inside,
to know you can't find happiness
and there's nowhere left to hide?

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My Battle

People often ask me
how I ever stood my ground, 
when trouble just surrounds me
and people push me down.

I say to them (with tongue in cheek)
I'm sure my work's not done.
I may have fought the battle,
But the war is not yet won.

I will always manage
to hold my head up high.
(Even though that enables them
to better see me cry.)

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Dance of Satan

Upon the Ground they lie

to be covered soon in white.

The leaves of spring have fallen

This crisp, cool autumn night.

Restless spirits circle

In anticipation and delight

To dance a dance of darkness

This Crisp, cool autumn night.

In a ritual of bloodshed

His worshippers unit

To dance a dance of Satan

This crisp, cool autumn night

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If you wanna come to this country

You don't break down our door.

I guess the term illegal

Doesn't mean much anymore.

English is our language

Our Flag, the Stars n Stripes

Spanish should be outlawed

Our Flags not red, green and white.

You sneek across our border

And have the nerve to demand your rights.

Those rights, were fought and died for

They are a citizens birthright.

You have a country of your own

Back to which, I suggest you go.

You don't belong here, you weren't invited

GO back to MEXICO!

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Changing Ways

Animosity hardens the true owner’s heart
Hatred is from seeds planted so very deep
Jealousy suffocates, changing eye color dark
Gossip then loses the friends there to keep

Condescending tones, they never support
Belittling those, who may be better than you
So off with the vanity that makes us alone
Accept then the differences, making us true

Alive with the wisdom to not know it all
Creates the progress to help all succeed
Exposing true heart, to receive in return
To love one another, in ourselves then believe

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Fleeing Anguish

As fires rage in the huge town of Anguish
Many a soul perishes among all the flames
Burning to charred remnants of their trial
Until just one comes along to then effect change

He arrived unnoticed, he blended in well
He, too, was unsure of his role in this land
The people all knew him, for it was foretold
That the fires would end with a touch of his hand

Many had followed him along all the streets
Supporting his mission, his efforts to quell
He knew he was gaining power over the fires
As he rescued those in Anguish, from the flames of Hell

Through time and through thought he then came aware
His mission was clear, to end the town’s plight
He suppressed all the fires, released them from Anguish
As he led the people out, to the town of Delight

Now, Delight wasn’t far off, but yet distant enough
As it took only one to show the people the route
For those who supported, they followed along
And lived out their lives without worry and doubt

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Looking at the present state of things,
nothing is ever going to change,
and with a stubborness so definitive.
some people would rather suffer than challenge...

Reclaim your lost hope, that one which held you back,
making your accursed life as fiery as tempest; 
what tears did was drownimg you in their sorrow,
all your days were spent alone, not daring to trust in love...

Lives are cut off as timber is severed by eletric saws,
when it falls to the ground, only a thud is heard;
then they will loaded on trucks and the forest will moan their loss,
so is our saddened heart when it's emptied of all good things we loved...

Reclaim your lost hope, what once was rightfully yours,
see the big pitcure with new eyes and a more perceptive mind,
for too long you have been confined to loneliness;
now, open up your windows to the shining sun and proclaim your freedom...

Trashed acquintances may be regretted, but others you will find,
and fearlessly confront your obstacles and make them null;
reembrace the fervent faith that made you the strongest soul,
and as you go on living, remember not what made your teeth grind...     

Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci

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Through these verses I divulge my poetical expressions
to ignore criticism and not hoot while extricating my ideals;
my work is marked by indisputable integrity,
more plausible than a woman's chastity!

Recognition and deserving honor are nice,
but they are the least rewards I seek,
best of the best...who ever was ?
Worst of the worst.. I cannot be!

I fall between these two, lest I fault
and fairly deserve the dungeon... 
the crowds not applauding my effort,
not  proclaiming me a champion!  

My words are soave, sometimes as rigid as hooves of a horse...
reminding all that I am as human as anyone else who bleeds and rejoices, 
but  my creativity is not satiated by inferior knowledge or bizarre notions,
although my glory is never accompanied by real expectations!

Like Homer and Virgil the masters of ancient poetry,
I do praise their work, and recognize their genius shining in their word;
Troy fell and Rome rose to prominence by a bloody sword;
I don't fall by trickery, I stand on my fortress of liberty!

My obligation must be fulfilled by ardous work, I will not depart,
or merely linger on...until this mission is faithfully accomplished, and this voice,
before fading, invokes its last sunset to finally fall silent;
and if readers acclaim me, I have succeeded in my poetical expressions!

Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci

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Purple streaks of lightning

Across a yellow sky

Orange grass and Blue trees

A clown that has no eyes.

The ground beneath my feet

Like a river, it does flow.

Look over at that stop sign

I really think it glows.

The trees, I hear them talking

They're calling out my name.

The birds are in tuxedos

They're all dancing in the rain.

I take my trips on acid

It's the only way to go.

It's cheaper than an airplane

Where you'll go, nobody knows.

The sun is psychedelic

Every color of the rainbow.

The clouds are racing by me

It's really quite a show.

The water in the fountain

Is shades of red and green.

Leaping and jumping skyward

Taller than the trees.

I take my trips on acid

It's so much fun, I know

It's easier than a road trip

Where you'll go, nobody knows.

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Happy Father's Day Todd

It feels like I have known you
for my entire life.
I truly started living
when I became your wife.

You've taught me what true love is
by opening your heart.
My love for you is immeasurable.
It's been growing from the start.

I watch you with our children.
The love shown on your face.
You show them all such tenderness
as you guide them into place.

If I could choose the perfect man,
you'd be the only one.
You're dependable, and reliable,
but you're also tons of fun!!

You help to teach our kids what's right
and guide them through this life.
I have to tell you once again...
I love being your wife!

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Keep The Faith

A mother's job is to shelter.
A mother's job is to care.
It's my pleasure to do these things for you,
and enjoy the life we share.

Problems may surround us
and try to keep us down.
But, I will never give up the faith
on the love that we have found.

Our family is precious.
To me, there is no end.
Not only are you my children,
You also are my friends.

I know you will be happy.
I know you'll set your mind
to go after the success in life
only a good person can find.

Don't let them tell you different.
Don't let them break your stride.
Don't let their hatred hurt you. have pride.

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Fear That Takes A Home

i hesitate from getting up from the puddle
i had fallen down in during the rain.
my foot had slipped leaving me covered in soil and water
i imagined going quietly insane.

a gun shot took the life force of a friend today.
i stood shakily in dirty wet shoes.
no one knew yet but the likes of me.
i would be to some the bearer of bad news.

she had been the recipient of his increasing love and
the frequent subject of his airbrush art.
arriving at the scene, i had been essential for the law to question.
i told them i thought it was a matter of the heart.

in a daze, i shivered under my black umbrella
timorously walking wondering who was really to blame.
maybe i should have said something to him the day before.
maybe things would still be the same.

i wanted it to be over -- this grieving,
before i reached home -- away a taunting eternity.
unsure tears co-mingled with the erasing rain, but
more guilt would come after achieving emotional empty.

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Rise Handsomely

Priceless perfection in every direction
to taunt and to tease and to tear up one's eyes
Staunch circumvention beyond clear reflection
which winds up the wheels just a little too tight
Why do we bother to tread on each other 
with tires of metal and spears?
When one good well wisher, a brother, a sister
has the power to speak and to heal?
I'll be your sister, your heart and well wisher
the unjudging eyes which will swallow your pain
For there's no exception, exempt from perfection
wind striving breaks you and saps you in vain
Priceless perfection in every direction
only exists in the underdog's view
and you dear, are brilliant, determined and valiant,
you'll rise handsomely from the life you've been through.

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From the Latin credo = I believe
The first word of the Apostle’s Creed became 
The name of various formulas of the Church’s profession of faith
In which the essential contents of the faith are authoritatively summarized


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The Private Eye

It’s a cold dark night on this end of town
The street lights above flicker to a rhythm
Standing, waiting, why?  I don’t exactly know.
But I’ll continue here and remain a shadow.

There, the door opened and she walked out.
She was a beauty, makeup done so right.
The show was flawless, she was perfection.
She turned to her friends and said goodnight.

Stepping out to the street, she hailed a taxi,
“Fifty second and third, quickly” she said.
The Whitman Motel, room 303 like always
Is where she meets that man, takes him to bed.

A sorry life she has, a sick husband at home,
But she finds the time to get what she needs.
I, I work for the husband. Paid eyes for him,
In the morning I’ll give him the pictures to see.

Who knows what will happen after the news,
Confirmation of suspicions, proof to be shown.
Will they divorce, or will it be much worse?
I don’t really care, no reason to know.

My next job waits. A woman will pay me.
Husband works late each evening she thinks.
But, I’ll do some digging and report the good news
Then spend all the dough on cheap broads and drinks.

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Our House

Our house was just an empty box.
We filled it with our love.
At first it was just you and I.
Then 3 more (with help from above.)

We fixed the rooms and filled them up
with things we like to share.
Some of our things are "different".
I like to call them "rare".

Like your bull horns and antlers
as well as all my books.
We just care that "We like it!"
We don't care how it looks.

Some people call it "cluttered".
Some call it "shabby chic".
Our house fits us just perfectly,
because like us, it is "unique".

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Internal Beauty

Oh beautiful one
on the verge of the brink
on the rim of believing
you're oh what you think
Oh beautiful one
to declare delicate
all the virtue you have 
in integrity set
Oh beautiful one
don't be so eclipsed
by the shadow of words
that you hold on your hips
Oh beautiful one
you render and shine
with a thought which emerged
quite unique in design
Oh beautiful one
your wishes are true
on the verge of the brink
this reflection is you...

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Out by the wall; scattered seeds of my youth
fighting to grow against the wind.
And out in the distance; perched, two upon the gate,
The bluebirds begin to sing:

Take me to the castle garden
where the sun forever covers the plants,
where darkness never enters
and where all the people dance.
Take me to the castle garden,
the place you enter in your dreams,
where loved ones lives are never ending.
Reality; stems from your dreams

Now, I remember walking hand in hand
with my father, to the lake.
In his eyes, I could hear him saying
hearts are never made to break.

But, now, now that I am a man
I finally realize
those important words he was saying
when I looked into his eyes:

Take me to the castle garden
where the sun forever covers the plants,
where darkness never enters
And where all the people dance.
Take me to the castle garden,
the place you enter in your dreams,
where loved ones lives are never ending.
Reality; stems from your dreams

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His Name's Not Patty!

It always seems to be the same,
that for each and every year
all the people come in droves
just to share in all the cheer.
But, do they really know
of what it really means
on this very holy day
when we celebrate the green?
It’s not about the nationality,
though many think it’s so.
That’s why I’m here to give you facts
that you all need to know.
The man whose day we celebrate
was a man like you and me.
He helped many find the truth
about the Trinity.
Using the shamrock as a guide,
he helped them on their way.
That’s why they’re so many Catholics
in Ireland today.
This man, enslaved by Irish pagans,
was of Welsh descent.
Due to pagan ways and his prayers,
Ireland is where he went.
He tried so hard to make them see
the reality of the Lord.
He prayed for those who refused to see
and those who chose to ignore.
Many say, he chased the snakes
far from Ireland’s shore.
Though, in fact, he converted pagans
to where they’d find the Lord.
So, you see, it’s not important,
if you wear the green.
Don’t sport the color if your not
Irish, by any means.
Instead, just feel the Lords presence,
in each and every way,
but most of all, his name’s not Patty,
it’s Patrick and Happy St. Patrick’s Day!

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Cruel Joke

Was it just a cruel joke 
or did you feel the same? 
How could you kill a grown man's soul? 
Why did you play this game? 

He says he'd still forgive you. 
I pray he NEVER will. 
No matter how much pain you've felt, 

I hope you carry the torture 
with you for all your days. 
I hope your life is MISERABLE 
just like you wanted Ray's. 

They say that God will punish 
and make you feel the shame. 
For what you've done was heartless 
and there's ONLY YOU TO BLAME!

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I Sit Here Wanting

The words are captivating
The images, so clear
The flow is ever moving
Read aloud, I wish to hear

Tell us of your stories
Some fiction, some so true
Tell us in your rhymes right now
Of the things you wish to do

Tell us of your learning
And that you wish to share
Tell us of your saddened times
As, yes, we do now care

Tell us of your smiles
The many times you’ve laughed
Share with us your fairytales
Each lovely paragraph

Enlighten us with meaning
Improve our sights with view
Share with us your poetry
Your poetry is you

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Season to Heal

Raw is the nature and talent of birds
Fearing the holes of dark art
A coping will against sin so divine
Bull’s-eye in the path of a dart
Course of bold habit, stick with a lifter
Ransacked with promise and gleam
My floating shell sinks to the depths of hell
And I know I’m hard cracked in dreams
Stay in without chancing the sting that must come
Flaw without need to be spawned
Primaly still in near creeping demise
Overbearing life pressure’s begun
Won’t bliss or convey this dormant dismay
Creational slip below reason to feel
Though loaded with pride and glad you reside
‘Tis not yet my season to heal

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Finding Itzhak Perlman

Top hat
Shoe shine
Tywhitt tie
Silk design
Snap heels
Harvest moon
Lowest lights
Fig perfume
Star leash
Driving hence
Toward the view
of recompense
Lights blur
Neon stiff
Leaving us
a sugar kiss
Brow bent
Toward the night
Linking arms
Russian, white.
Ice flesh
Music blood
Well me up
and loose the flood
Night breath
Gracing such
Lit electric
by your touch.
One voice
Stringing eyes
This is where
perfection lies...

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Lifting Zephyr Prayers

Zephyr blown in violet bubbles
holding up the silver sky
filled with soapy wonderings
wishes made by you and I
Lying on the weaving grass
holding bliss in hands
Sending up imaginings
filled with human plans
Hoping they will splash the clouds
Knowing it will rain
to fill our eyes like hazel tins
to mesmerize our minds again
Wishes slick with cinder snaps
on their way back down
Bubbles cannot hold their skin
on thoughts this tightly wound
We will blow the sky away
wrapped in silver bows
and send our wishes in our prayers
eternity to flow.

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Swirling scuffling newspapers
Scrawling in civilized dirt
Alleyways devouring
Discarded stories of hurt
Sunken sorrel skin
Writhing in distended shame
Ingested figments of food
Decomposing depravity’s name
Corroded cans of compassion
Littering hunger pains 
Kicked into comatose corners
Prodded by public domain
Flaccid fingers of despair
Folded to somehow convey
God if you can hear me
I haven’t eaten in ten days

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Self-Destructive Page

I never hold a candle to you
never shine a light
There's no internal force
which keeps me yearning through the night
I'm horrid faced with paperwork
and technically unsound
There are no love notes hidden about
since you're not around
This town is vacuum-packed and rude
with heartstrings cut asunder
I can't help but wonder if you're still strung to me
I wonder, do we still love each other?
Our history is pasted 
on the walls of mind and matter
Electric smiles light up our lips
in glass too thick to shatter
But now my candle's flickering
on the edge of youthful age
I'm a story with no ending
on your self-destructive page.

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The Woman In The Mirror

When I pass a mirror
and catch you watching me,
I'm stricken with the strangest chill
that no one else can see.

The resemblance is uncanny.
The face, the hair, the nose.
I'm even just about your height.
I guess that's how it goes.

I'll always be reminded 
of when you went away
each time I pass a mirror...
(That's every single day.)

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Your Light

Your beauty makes the sun jealous of you
The earth wants to keep you for her own
The light of the moon shines only over you
While the seas crest in your very direction

Your beauty makes the sun jealous of you
It feels pallid in your very presence
It cannot compete with the shine you emit
It is lacking and wanting your very essence

The light of the moon shines only over you
Casting a luminary spotlight on your being
It, too, wanes in comparison to your glow
It is from your light that everyone is seeing

While the seas crest in your very direction
The universe seems to revolve around you
Making you the center of everything good
Celebrating you, your light, the truth

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Brain Power

I live to train my left and right brain,
release the poor from their pain

And tell the selfish world of men,
the life they live is insane

The system that we live in,
so divided and so vain

I wish that I could change it all
with little work and strain

Today's the day I fight for,
what no one else attained

So everyone can follow me,
live free from selfish gain

I hope that they will see me
as a servant and a leader

Ans say I was a poet,
a writer, and a reader.

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Abandoned SOS

Mint green glass
bottled, filled 
Milky poison
your free will
Traveled oceans
bobbed on waves
A message though
no one it saves
Could have been filled
with a note to me
I could have saved you
out at sea
Instead you spat
your venom kiss
Mint green bottle
gone, dismissed.

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I am a reckless recluse
But I have an  excuse
Society is un-sanctimonious
When I only want to hear the harmonious

I am hiding away 
Awaiting a day
When people pledge peace
And nationalism will finally cease

I won’t let people find me
Not even if they’re behind me
Because I’d rather live alone
Than to live in a world I bemoan

Don’t look or search for me anywhere
Please beg do I not ever to dare
From your society I care not to be exempt
Because I am a recluse content with contempt
   ©  2011.….Phreepoetree  ~free cee!~
Hey q.t.  thanks for the “nationalism”

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The Smile You Give

While walking on to work this day
I dared to take a gander
At the many faces passing me,
Who, quickly on, meandered.

When, without notice, one looked back
And surely gave me a smile
Then, my tired feet relaxed
And felt could go a mile.

You see, that’s all we need to do,
It’s recognize each other
Give to them that which you want
The love of one another.

So take this truth today and hold it
Near and to your heart
Keep in mind the smile you give
Will give another a start.

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Virginia Matriarch vs. The Ground

She's rickety at best at ninety
Tough blood nails her veins
to her rocking chair on the front porch
sniffing out impending rain
Her house coat hides her skeleton
but for her needle legs
which somehow hold her frame from gravity
like the trappings in a spider's web
She remembers nights of ink and silence
underneath her stars
but now her front porch sags and rests
at the stage of sound and cars
Her little home, her little porch
off Interstate 95
has kept it's old Virginia appeal
to the travelers who zoom by
She hasn't changed a thing, you know,
She lights her stove with wood
Her outhouse watches the steel construction
where the century pine once grandly stood
She spits tobacco on the road
and hollers at the wind
"Bring on the rain, you blasted thing
my life's about to end!"
She's left her home to Uncle Shuvrow
Her personals to May
She's sick of new construction
and is sure she'll pass away
But the ground beneath her has tough blood
and won't let go right quick
It doesn't want to lose it's soul
Her Virginia voice, it's tick
Her footsteps make the ground alive
Her younger dancing days still fresh
It doesn't see her tired eyes
or feel her sunken bag of flesh
The ground just knows this woman
like the back of it's aging hand
It knows she reigns with countenance
in a now developed land
The ground won't let the storm begin
It threatens the sky to obey
This old Virginia matriarch
will live to curse another day...

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A simple, pretty girl from Asia
Not asking, to give her a pity;
For she is, really, not a Geisha;
If, she wanders around the city.

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To The Poets Before Me

I have read a few authors within my days
some, of which, you may all know.
I hope to share them with you all
to help your knowledge grow.

Many an author has crossed my path
like Elliott, Bronte and Frost.
Each possessing their own style;
in their writings, you’d be lost.

There are others, too, that you may know
like Seuss or Sandburg or Donne.
For any author, that you select,
will surely compliment the sun.

Reading their works will brighten your day
through fear, making you laugh or cry.
Some of their poems may make you sad
and some will help you to fly.

All of their works, you should all read
so you can learn from the very best.
Then writing your words of poetry and prose
will separate you from the rest.

Read Tennyson and Whitman,
as they both knew the power of their quills.
As will Poe, Millay and Dickinson
give you romance, thought and thrills.

There’s Browning and Burns and Marlowe, too.
There’s Hood and Kilmer and Joyce.
Read Blake and Swift and Wordsworth, too.
It is just a matter of choice.

Whatever the preference, whatever your wants,
read some or all of their lines.
For a poem by one of the poets above
is a poem that’s finer than fine.

I hope you’ve enjoyed my lesson today,
you can now appreciate the art.
For one day a book, you may pick up,
will be written by M Degenhardt.

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Atmospheric Disturbance

The world is at stake on a whim and a break
of the bow that supports all the stars
A crack of the joints right at gravity's points
and we slip like mere dust straight to Mars
A taste of the red just goes straight to our heads
now as dry as the parched sun at noon
Spinning blue orbit - take a moment, absorb it
for delirium will set in quite soon
The lunar light glow that we all love and know
is now but a glint off the sea
Echo explosion, a torrential implosion
of the atmosphere where we used to be...

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Copying Creation

Golden pears, hollowed, hanging
lit internal, a thousand tea lights
tree limb treasures, firefly pulsing
stirring the movements of every delight

Cinnamon stars, flicker, watching
burning red, a thousand years lost
taking the glory, out numbering man
in their efforts to mold an original thought.

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Soldier Right Outside

The wind blows hard
And the trees are shaken
In the fall they loose their leaves
To bare the winter naked

The trees shiver slightly
As the ice forms on their branches
The snow lays so lightly
And glistens in the sun

The trees have a strong foundation
When all other forces of nature attack
Like soldiers for our nation
They will not back down from a fight

Every spring they are green once more
They have withstood the winter
Their beauty is held in store
Until warm months are there

The trees thrive on the rain
It brings them life in summer days
It relieves them of their pain
They survive another season

The trees change there outfit
They look like pumpkin pie, and pilgrims
Though still they never sit
They are always standing tall, until...

The trees
Are cut by humans
They fall down to their knees
The one force they cannot withstand

The trees provide us shelter
But how do we repay them?
We stick them in a fire, and watch them swelter 
The trees are strong, but not strong enough

The trees can't stop us
They just don't know
So this is why I'm making a fuss
Save the trees... before they all go...

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The Chocolate Jar

Glazed ceramic, spun with hands
with tender finger prints imbed
somewhere from the hills of Spain
given to us when we wed
Signed in marker on the bottom
brushed in dust and gold
holds our trinkets of disaster
crystal cracked and cold
There's that time we strung each other
ice glass beads on threaded wind
and that time we threw one another
bouncing back and forth again
What about when our eyes were blinded
wandering around in the dark for days
or all the grease we drenched on wheels
to clog up the cogs in a thousand ways
More to be said, just not worth saying
Held in the chocolate jar and sealed
Somewhere in Spain there's a lady still spinning
these jars in ceramic, dynamic, congealed
Ours we will smash in the fire one day
freeing the bruises in smoke to the sky
We will laugh silly and send our disasters
spiraling upward,  toward the heavens they'll fly...

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The Ring

How does it feel to wear it?
How can you keep it there?
You must hate being reminded
of how much he use to care.

It doesn't really fit you.
It's just a size too small.
But then, did he never tell you
that it isn't yours at all?

Do you ever wonder 
what it is that people see
when you show them all your finger
wearing the ring he bought for me?

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The Worst Warriors After Wars

Having suffered years of grueling tyranny, 
Sand is still red which should be tawny. 
Iraq has become a land of widows 
Men are cruely killed there in rows. 

Due to war when families are separated, 
Children are those who are worst affected. 
Phan Thi Kim Phuc is name of that woman, 
Who became goodwill ambassador in 1997, 

UNESCO gave her this honorable position 
She was photographed in a piteous condition, 
During the Vietnam War, in her childhood. 
But every child victim's luck isn't so good. 

War ends, in some years country recoups, 
Civilians honor their patriotic brave troops. 
Injured soldiers medicated at country's cost, 
Children loose their shelters when they need the most. 

Educatlion is far from such kid's dream
They have to leave their self-esteem
Fighting for food, having memories of terrors, 
After a war, they are the worst warriors. 

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Two faced

Today my heart so broke
What was the big joke?
In my despair I choked 
By the words that she spoke 

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I'm Whipped

She makes me smile with her words
that she lovingly places there to see.
Does she know, just what she does
and how she truly affects me?
Her smile, infectious and so lovely,
casts light upon the common man.
There’s heat emitted from that gleam
that causes me to require a fan.
I cannot help but be a captive
held within her ropelike arms,
bound and gagged, beneath a smile.
For I’ve succumbed to all her charms.

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Missing Andrea

When I am in your presence
and our souls are drawn in line
we pale the day in an eccentric way
within the folds of time
When we are separated
our souls demagnetize
We crumble in our delivery
dust to dust and rust inside
I watch the clock impatient
with my fingers tapping your tune
Make ready your feet to be with me complete
under one and the same golden moon
I'm catching the next constellation
to fold and unfold wrinkled time
I'm internally set by the pulse in your wrist
just as you are incumbent with mine...

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Showing of Stars

Silence and shooting stars
Icycle wind
Spins me in every way
Beckons me in
Night of the deepest blue
Moon on my face
Air of the mountains
mingled with space
Winter is on the wings
Let's sip the silence
I'm filled with shooting stars
nature's compliance
Pines on the evening watch
Protectors elite
You by my side
makes this moment complete...

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The Other Side of the Screen

We think, we write, we then type.
We post our poems to be seen.
We trust, we hope, we pray for truth
From the other side of the screen.

Who are the people, there, that read?
They say friends, but do we really know?
We trust them, talk with them, listen
And read their words that always flow.

The many, here, are the trusting lot.
Writing and sharing with their hearts.
We all share this common theme,
Partaking, forever, in this art.

It’s easy to think then post our thoughts.
In fact, easier when no one to distract.
Posting our poems upon this site
With those, whom which, we interact.

The next time you share of yourself here, in words,
With poems of love or hate or dreams.
Remember, someone will appreciate your work
From on the other side of the screen.

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Birth of a Novel

In a troublesome mood, half engulfed firelight
with a silk sheen perspire, emerging a thought
In round wire glasses, too light to be noticed
and a brass nib in ink, the moment was caught

It was twirled 'round a finger, half calloused with ink
with a wedding band clasp, from a lifetime ago
to be mulled an enigma, in bled scroll designs
on pages which only his fingers would know

By the crack of the fire, he stretched to the brink
every nuance he carried, like whispering skin
The embers died down, 'till he caught up a chill
but he couldn't conclude, what he didn't begin

The words were in charge, in general ink
and he wrote in a fervor, and shook until still
with bones turned to ash, in the blue of the room
a novel was born, but the author was killed.

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I know that there are others with a burden to bare
So why am I out here so lonely?
I'm crying for someone else
To please lay down your burdens with me.

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Pretty People

When pretty people say "Hello"
It makes you feel pretty too.
As they approach, you hope they would
Smile or lift a hand to you.

You'd feel pretty special then
And think, "Maybe they noticed me."
Wonder why the pretty smiles,
Within you say, "I hope it's me."

You dare look back and slowly turn
To see if you are pretty too.
No time to stop, continue on.
Laugh a bit...  How do you do?

Now reason why they made your day-
To see your pretty attributes.
So feel pretty and say "Hello"
And lift others with nice salutes.

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Love Like Ours.

Like the first love note, red flowers and ink
initials and boxes unchecked, left to think
3rd grade delivery, while heart blown adult
shaking in shoes long untied, difficult
Like the first kiss, in the sand on the beach
long brooded tenderness, passion increase
Hands held like fingerprints with no repeat
feeling for once like a puzzle complete
Like the soft steps of bare feet as we wed
while the sky sugar colored the sun into bed
No nervousness here at the tip of the world
Not a regret while I felt yet a girl
Like the last moment you kissed me goodbye
Off to work, off to your home in the sky
Trailing behind you the string to my heart
Like these first moments, again, when we part.

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The laundry piles in mountains.
It covers the whole floor. 
Just when I think I've done it all...
OOPS!Here comes some more!

"I'm sorry Mom, I forgot this."
and "Hey, if you don't mind...
I need this washed before tomorrow...
That is, if you have time."

"Oh sure" I say "No problem,
I'll do it just for you."
After all...I'm sure you know...
I have nothing else to do!

If I could just have one wish
to help with a daily chore,
It'd have to be that laundry 
wouldn't be needed anymore!

I might have time for reading
(or watching a trashy show!)
I hear there's great stuff on T.V...
I fear I'll never know!

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Reason to Feel

Saw you in song and committed your words
to the searing of souls and of hearts
Hoping you're still on the wind, on the line
and your life hasn't fallen apart
Force of old habit to pick up a drifter
with knapsack and broken rust dreams
Hope you are well, put your feet up a spell
and I'll sew you back up at the seams
We'll go out dancing, you sing and I'll hum,
raw in our feet by the dawn,
Finally, you will have sleep in your eyes
with the warmth of the wakening sun
Don't miss a day, we're created that way
to sip slow the elixir and heal
I'm on your side, there's no reason to hide
but there's always a reason to feel.

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Be Honest

Secrets I’m holding are just part of my past
If I open up then they will not last.
Do I keep them bottled deep down inside?
Am I true to myself with feelings I hide?

When I look in mirrors, do I see right through?
Can I see inside of me, or even, can you?
I thought I’m protective, maybe I deceive.
I’d like to think honest, but do I believe?

Fooling myself? No, never can it be!
I’m a fool to myself, which I must see.
To keep feelings hidden, is to be untrue
Not only to myself, but to all of you?

I must now be open, must now come clean.
Time to let the people, all of them that mean
So much in my life. I need them to know
All about me, so our friendship grows.

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Love's Prelude

Sand the hour down to moments
Leave the dust beside the door
Call the taxi rush to honor
Shed emotions to the floor
Skin the listen with decision
Pull the wild trance to sing
Cancel all your past appointments
Leave behind the tears you bring
Kiss the air as if your last
Taste the rain and cut your hair
Show the world your passion laughing
Fleece the silver from your stare
Blow the solid moon a blanket
Find the locket that you lost
Melt your calling, moon is falling
Sell your pain at market cost
Strip the skin to bone endeavors
Lamp light all the stars above
For tonight you're breaking moments
For tonight you'll fall in love.

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She counts the wind that blew her west
over an ocean as her first breath; 
the brightest of whatever constellation 
stood sentry overhead, her natal star.

She can’t spell her birthplace, a town 
half a day’s walk from the once-capital
of a land forever changing boundaries
by the logic of politics and war.

She can’t tell the hour of her birth, 
but only the moment of her mother’s death:
it smelled like all of her own people 
dying, which is the stench of fear. 

Orphan with only her lungs to beg 
free air in a new place, she asks you 
to cast her chart. No matter the past, 
she says. Just tell my future. Here.

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Soul stir my attitude
Blow me a kiss
from off of the tip
of the top of your list
written in muse
in pockets crunched up
Just unlock your soul
and start off at the top
Amber in anklets
and peppermint pine
A song humming breath
from the day you were mine
Green gold in rings
from a shop lit in winter
and shards of blown glass
which you still have a splinter
Promise of virtue
and floating of vice
Circles of star storms
we saw once or twice
Pooling of thunder
over our heads
Watching the rain
without leaving our bed
Summer blonde hair
while we swam in the sea
all this and more
in your kiss blown to me...

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Come Home

So breaks the hearts of those who cared
The many nights they’ve sat and prayed
For your return to safety there
But no return, your decisions made
Your back, it seemed to face them all
As you so ventured from their sight
But, yet they prayed that you don’t fall
To become a victim of the night
Without a word or call from you
They still all wait and pray you’re fine
Forgiving all you say and do
At a chance to see you again sometime
So, if per chance you’re passing by
Please give thoughts to those who pray
They wish to see you but again
Allowing you chances on other days

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What's Happened?

What contributes to the disposition of people that makes them think they need 
not manners?
Do they just think they are better than I or do they lack even the smallest ability to 
Why, when approached, do they speak looking away, rather than looking in one’s 
Why, when someone’s working in their yards do they not offer up some water to 

The moral digression of the average person is speeding at speeds that makes 
me cry.
As curses are hurled throughout every language, almost as if like water they flow.
Well, my children, they are taught to respect their elders and laws and so much 
For the adults that they one day become, will be based on what they learned and 
now know.

Come on folks, think! 

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Beneath Your Scented Feet

Dwindling summer, keeps hordes of twitchers away;
Acropolis, fortress with a very charming height;
Promise not to cry, I shall see you in the sky
For a glass of ouzo, in beautiful moonlit night!

Though, Sunday is fine for me to sneak around;
Approaching your beauty, really, is not that easy free;
For loyal gatekeepers are watching the town,
I must take refuge, under the romantic olive tree!

While savoring your fragrance, in solitude!
I hear a man, singing in a falsetto;
For my unwanted skin attracts multitude,
That I decided to stay incognito!

As I huddle beneath your famed and scented feet;
Waiting for a chance, so I can kiss you goodbye;
Birds warble, sending jealous gods to fall asleep
Inspired by your beauty, in your arms, let me die!

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Truth Be Known

Philanthropic attitude leads to generosity
While generosity therefore leads to care
Giving to another provides fulfillment
As we, together, learn then how to share

Though money lining pockets, provides comfort
It also gives reward if given free
Purchase, not a good, but human character
As the heart of man’s the goal of which we seek

Let not account, tell you then of value
For worth’s defined, a level how we give
Give of yourself, maybe all, to have nothing
For then is when you’ll really learn to live

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Chelynne's Book

Sand between my toes I've saved
along with flowers pressed
A tortoise shell of black and green
from when I lived out west
On my desk I even hold
a ruby found in ancient Rome
and opal shells made just for me
from snails I met in the Aegean Sea
But what I hold dear to my heart
comes clear the best in ink
So I seal them down indelible
and kiss them with a wink
I hold them here inside this book
along with thoughts of you
For, sister, you and I are one
instead of only two...

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Despite it All

The sheets, so sheer, on line they hang
So tattered and so frayed
The clothes she wore, so tattered, too
Where from her hands, were made

No money for to buy new thread
Nor have a decent meal
But yet she always smiles to us 
With confidence and zeal

For in her heart, she holds her worth
So valued and protected
So that no man could ever steal
Her dignity, erected

She placed within her bosom strong
Her faith, her love, her light
As happiness stays with her though
To us it seems a plight

So, pride be sin, but yet for her
It gives strength within and grace
And love she had as well as faith
Displayed by smiling face

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Fear's Face of Death

She picked him from the line up
Nothing special, but had that look
He turned and winked at the window
She hoped that he was the crook

Bail had gotten him his freedom
She read in the papers that day
Then a loud knock on her door
Scared her in an unnerving way

She walked quietly to the door
Listened at the other side
Thought to turn around and run
And find a place to hide

She ran out from the backdoor
Then fell, thud, upon the ground
It was then she had turned to look
Because of an unknown sound

She looked into the face of death
Or rather she thought she had
But, in fact it was not really
It was not all that bad

A little girl was standing
And offered her a hand
Then asked of her smiling,
“Buy some cookies, ma’am?”

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Victorious from the battle, 
the weary soldiers cheered
Defeated, were the foes 
that so many children feared
A blessing then bestowed 
upon all of the innocent ones
The soldiers marched from battle 
into the new day’s sun

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Listen Up Brothers

I look at art and I see beauty.
I read poems and reveal it too.
I walk among nature and feel it.
I witness it all, but I don’t know you.

Women, God’s handiwork, tough to read
They have plagued mankind for years.
We can love, appreciate and worship them.
We fall victim and are brought to tears.

Women are not objects, but objectified.
They can be overly suggestive, yet pure.
They can assault our being, yet we stay.
When it comes to them, we always want more.

We can defy them, but later need them.
We can hear their breaths, hear each beat.
When it comes to lust, oh so very often,
We also tend to grovel at women’s feet.

Men act like fools when around them,
Stuttering thoughts that never come clean.
We’d like to say how we love, need them.
But have not the words to say what we mean.

God was generous with the beauty He gave,
A variety of different colors and even size.
I wish He gave men the smarts, though,
So we can see women clearly in our eyes.

Let’s not waste time, trying to figure out.
Let’s just admire, respect, and cherish them all.
Let’s just open and share what we’re feeling
For women are needed, without them we fall.

Many of them have fallen victim.
Support those who have, give them a hand.
Give them not pity, that is not wanted,
Give them your heart that would be grand.

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We all have compassion
for those less fortunate than us;
and we readily open our helping arms
to those who need consolation...

Our judgement must not be harsh,
because we cannot fault in prejudice
and be unfair and preposterous;
furthermore be heartless and undignified...

We all have compassion,
compelling us to listen to reason:
not to be amoral and step aside;
misunderstanding is a lack of disregard...

Our society has taught us to be prudent,
to avoid interference or even be intolerant;
there are many diseases that can't be cured:
this one is the stigmata that should not be ignored...

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The Claddagh

With the heart
Love is shown
With the hands
Friendship grown
With the crown
Loyalty, give
With all three
It’s best to live

The symbol of the claddagh
For all to behold
Is a symbol of faith
A story to be told
For Richard Joyce
Captured, enslaved
Prospered as goldsmith
the claddagh he made

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The Sea is a Mistress

The mighty vessel outward sailed
Unto the vastness of the sea
Where, lingering moon and vibrant sun
Cast brightest blue and vivid green

The splendid ship named SeaSpray Sway
Held captive men to sailors make
For to the sea they made their vows
And of their hearts, the sea did take

For fifteen days so lost at sea
Their rations dwindled and spirits died
Deaths occurred and fights ensued
Until, from crows nest, land was spied 

No land as wondrous as they found
For carried them to there, the tide
Though seeking life from solid ground
They’d not give up the sea, their bride

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Dream of Celebrities I

Met some famous people in a dream I had last night.
Meeting and greeting them was surely my delight,
However, the way they mingled was more than I could bear.
There actions made me worry and made me stop and stare.

The Duke, John Wayne, was poised with a gun there in his hand.
Mae West was there, too, looking for many a one-night stand.
Groucho, Harpo and Chico were chasing the women away.
While Nero, with his fiddle, all he could do, was play.

Nary a one, had given notice to Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.
Be careful with your money, there goes Bonnie and there goes Clyde.
Gandhi, who was trying to gain peace within himself,
Was being hit, on the head, by a unicorn and an elf.

Marilyn was careful that the photographers wouldn’t see,
But, it was too late for her, for they saw J F Kennedy.
Lincoln was doing his best to calm old Mary Todd back down
Because she saw him with Lana Turner and it turned his head around.

Plato and Socrates were in a scuffle over life.
King Henry the 8th was there, seeking out a wife.
Both Hepburn and Tracy were there spouting out their lines
And the entire Barrymore family had just run out of wine.

The Mick and Ole Blue Eyes were there exchanging notes
On all the girls and liquor, that surely got there votes.
Poor Elvis, in the corner, was struggling with dessert,
While Gypsy Rose Lee was dancing, lifting up her skirt.

Too many of these famous people for me to say I know
Therefore, from this poem, now, I will have to go.
But, if I get the time to write some more of this for you
Then please check back, again, for this poem, number two.

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Time With You

My day’s work, it just never seems to end.
I go home from the office, to things to do.
I never seem to have moments for myself,
Like enjoying a moment, some time with you.

Well, here is a resolution to make this year
I won’t worry about the house, the yard, the chores.
The things will remain broken, unless truly needed,
Because it’s time we all need and I’m giving more.

The money, it’s modest, my work, it’s a bore,
But my life will be better with this, I choose.
I’ll sacrifice money and time spent away
Just to spend so much more time with you.

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The Storyteller

You spin the world
You shake with pride
as tales of wonder
tear your eyes
You're ageless now
You flood the room
and force us to 
your heart entomb
You never stop
You never think
of all your grandeur
stamp and ink
You took the role
You spoke the words
and now you've left us
cold, disturbed...

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Welcoming the freshness of early morn
With a youthful, vibrant smile;
Yet, the masters scorn
Towards you, with their usual vile!

O Kopela, do not hide in a cell so small;
Patiently, just do your every day’s chores; 
Into a goblet of salt, let tears not fall;
Ponder not, for the olden days of yore!

Take with you, the wireless phone
For when they make a call after call
Especially when you’re alone
Readily, you can answer them all! 

O Kopela, come to the blooming garden
Scented flowers in different color; 
For your shivering spine, will be freshen
And will lessen your unending dolor!

Dry your tears with fresh roses
For sure it will make you fine,
Helping you forget the bad bosses
And you’ll see the sun will shine!

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Poetic Thirst

As words form on paper or there on a screen
The many who read can see what they mean
But yet there is more that the author implies
You must read deeper but not with your eyes

The stories or feelings can come on so strong
Letting the reader feel as if they do so belong
There’s comfort in thinking it’s written for you
As if it is about you or the things that you do

When placing yourself in the poems you read
You give unto others your sense of your need
You allow them to see you, the beauty within
You give to them hope, laughter or just a grin

The next time you write, with hopes of a read
Forget not those people that suffer from need
Put yourself, all of you, deeply into the verses
Giving many who read, a quench of their thirst

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Time On the Run

Tragedy pooled up in your footprints
in oil, in mud and in steel
Far out in front at the edge of the road
it grinded your thoughts at the wheel
Powdered to mist and to dusty debris
tragedy blew with it's lips
All at once time took a turn to the left
and skimmed by your cheek in a kiss
You never reached out and touched time before
with all of it's plodding and pain
Thoughts to the wind and it's over your head
like the refuse of chaff leaving grain
Tragedy temperance, heaving with bite
setting your gait and your eyes
Scattered and shattered with time on the run
to the place where it goes when it flies.

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Weathered and Worn

Upon the shelf, above the door
With dust and age upon the text
The book, it sat, with readers, naught
With dreams of eyes upon it, yet

The binding, tight, it’s never torn
The leather, smooth, yet worn with age
The white within is yellowed, worn
And risks a tear, when turn the page

Alive, it seems, it screams its verse
Calling out to many, who dare to hear
Alas, without eyes, it’s set with curse
Yet, keeps hopes alive year after year

Perhaps a mind set there for words
Or interested hearts, set there in love
Will find the book, then read its verse
Be thankful then for looking above

Then the book, there, penned with heart
Will have shared its many words, its thoughts
Perhaps a life will change, then start
To appreciate their lives, all then taught

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She is...

She speaks with fierceness towards her own self,
But never a bad word does she speak for another.
She is truly one, who is special and loved, 
If only she would let herself discover.

She has a strength that is seen right to her soul.
She has a power to woo with her words, too.
She has quickly become a friend to all, here.
She is like all of us. She is even like you.

You may not know her, if to ever see her.
You may not even have known her name.
Know this, though, she feels she’s different,
But I know different, she is the same.

She’s got feelings just like us all.
She will bleed if she’s hurt and will scream out.
Yet, she still feels like she’s all so different,
But, there she knows not what she’s talking about.

Though smart as a whip and possesses one, too, (hehe)
She’s vocal and vibrant, now part of my world.
She’s very quick witted and therefore so funny
And I’m happy to call her a friend, this girl.

She weeps when she’s lonely and fears overcome,
She is just an old softy, you see.
Though, she may be rough on the exterior,
She’s every bit a woman and a friend to me.

So should you come to one day meet her
And get to know her, as you should,
Remember that she is a winner who
Can be your friend the best she could.

She is the one that would always help you.
She is the one who steps up to bat.
She is the one that offers encouragement.
She’s just so good and that is that!

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Each day the news, it gives no hope,
Providing useless information.
But is it needed? Who really cares?
What is the fascination?
In fact, the media promotes the bad
Making news of immoral acts
As if it’s good, as if it’s right
They’re not even reporting the facts.
Here, in a picture, are Ang and Brad
Two people just like you and me
Their lives promoted by the media,
Not mentioning wedlock, just a family.
I guess, I mean, what’s wrong with this?
We buy the papers and watch TV.
We are supporting the downfall of man
The progression of immorality.
I know that what’s right for one, yadda yadda
May not be right for another.
But, people wake up and see the truth,
Ask, “what’s right for the Father?”
This country alone was based on His rules.
The lives that we share were, too,
The next time you see a story like this,
What is it that you will do?

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The Write Way

It’s never truly easy
I don’t know what to say
When standing face to face
All thoughts then go away
My words, they all escape me
They pack and take a trip
So when I try to speak the words
My tongue lets out a slip

That’s why I write so easy
As words just come to mind
I sit to write on anything
All words are there to find
But, if to pen in front of you
I’m therefore on the spot
Gibberish is all you’ll see
For all words I’ve forgot

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Reconstructive Criticism

My face, I wished it had been a bit more chiseled
With high cheek bones and even a deeper cleft chin
But it isn’t, so I must learn then to be happy
With me and all the skin I happen to be in

Some things can just never ever be changed
Or, rather today, they shouldn’t be changed just because they can
Like skin color, body mass and higher cheek bones
And even that one that turns a woman to a man

I respect everyone’s right to their own choices
But my choice is to believe we deal with what we get
Learn to embrace the body we were born with
Before we become the person we never met

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The Walls Before Us

Many sit and just stare at them
Others turn and face away
But walls are there for purposes
That you must find today

There are so many just so drab
No brightness to provide
The people that just look upon
Seem so shy and hide

There are some painted oh so bright
That perk and do inspire
It’s those brightly painted walls
That kindle many a fire

There are some, too, with windows there
To provide a viewer, view
A pristine outlook upon the world
A daily escape so true

Yet others may also have a door
That opens to outside
Those walls offer opportunity
As people then can’t hide

They walk on through, take the day
They enjoy the midday sun
And venture, too, under the moon
To share a life of fun

Whatever wall, that you may choose
Remember, it’s your own
Decide how you wish to view it now
For life, do not postpone

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Stand Up!

Stand up for the right!
Don’t you ever back down!
Don’t give up your fight!
Keep your feet on the ground!

Stand up for the meek!
Stand up and be strong!
Stand up and be counted!
Live free and live long!

All great words of advice,
but all words of choice.
Stand up and be heard,
We can all make one voice!

Stand up for what matters
to be true to your heart!
Stand up and be proud!
Stand up and be part!

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Rescued Heart

Transient motion,
this living and breathing and battling the wind
Cork popping ocean,
on bottles with SOS signals within
Riding in waves,
pushing and pulling of swirling black currents
Eternity scathed,
overhead, out of reach, feeling unworthy
Lifeboat arrives,
shoulders reach down to your salt curing skin
You are alive,
those rescuing you see the shape you are in
Enclave emotion,
singing to sleep in the warmth of four walls
Heart beat in motion, 
always in tune to the next time it falls.

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Summer Morning Time

With each swing of the pendulum, time is kept.
Each minute evolves into hours, hours into days.
The tick tock movement keeps the beat, musically.
Methodically enchanting, as the piano man plays.

Each note that he plays comes deep from his heart
Allowing the ears to appreciate the meaningful tune
Keeping beat with the arm, swinging above him
Keeping me entertained this one morning in June.

I sit here and can hear him playing his music
Lovely it is, as it gently floats on the breeze.
Musically enchanted this wonderful moment
As I listen to the man who plays with such ease.

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Eye of the Tiger

He brandished a nine iron, went chipping away
The course was so green, the air was so warm
The boy had dreams of being the best one day
Out on the course, each day, working on form

No stopping when tired, had known how to work
But, enjoyed the game so much, it wasn’t a chore
He labored for fun with his goal to be great
He knew what he wanted, each day wanting more

For each different hole, he selected with care
A wood or an iron, a chip or full swing
He honed well his skills to compete with the best
He’d never have guessed what fame it would bring

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If Only In Life?

She wore the most beautiful of gowns
Her skin was soft and pure perfection
Lips, they were the most delicious red
She was at the top of anyone’s selection

She was quiet, an attribute quite desired
It seemed she was also well at ease
I couldn’t help but stare at her beauty
And know that she was finally at peace

Death becomes her…

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He Walks Alone

His shift had just ended, early morning, half past four.
His days at this bar he wishes to come to an end.
Wandering the streets on his way home, into darkness, alone,
This lonely young fellow would love the comfort of friends

While walking and counting his tips from this night
He still managed a dream or two about a new life in all.
But Robert, his name, resists his life’s many changes,
Comfort is what he truly wishes for, so remains deaf to the call.

See, there was a time, when he was the best at his game.
He was an artist of sorts, some would say
Street corners were his venues and passers by, the audience.
They would stop and marvel at the games he would play.

For a few measly dollars, he would entertain and connive
Three cards in his hands were all he ever really needed
Until that one fateful day, he took the fall for friend.
He did time for him while his friend had succeeded.

Now back in the world, it was three years and six months later,
Robert had a new chance in life and was giving it a go.
Here he is, not the man he once was, but an honest man,
Leaving his shift this early morning, walking in the snow.

Those dreams of making that one big trick, the brass ring,
Kept him going, if just for the moment and though wrong.
He knew, in his heart he must take the right road now
Or, he’d up back where started, where he doesn’t belong.

So, an honest man now, just making a meager living,
But still ever so able to hold his head high,
Robert lives with his choices and regrets not a one
And continues his walk as the snow falls from the sky.

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Kenzie and Ava

One has a sleeping bag
One a knit hat
in pink with a pearly
heart button at that
One loves her poetry
One loves to sing
She hums with maturity
whispered age brings
Both love to dance
(they sure do love to dance)
They hold hands in waltzes
and butterfly prance
They twirl with no music
and laugh twinkle eyes
They tumble in heaps
of their sweetness surprise
Both are identical
Both are unique
Both hold my heart
trapped in moments they keep
One has dark curly hair
One in straight blond
Plastic barrettes 
to the ball and beyond
One loves her somersaults
One loves her art
Both love each other
and never will part...

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Soft, the Memory

For, here they lay amidst the clouds,
Two lovers bonded by their desires,
With hopes of tomorrows filled with love,
Never quenching their internal fires.

Two lovers bonded by their desires;
They awakened, but separate, upon that day.
Their hopes, though eternal, had seemed empty.
For they had awakened in utter dismay

With hopes of tomorrows filled with love
They realized their friendship was all they could share
Upon separating after the dance of their dreams
They realized for each other, they could only care

Never quenching their internal fires,
With hopes of love for each new day,
These two lovers, in dreams, forever bonded,
Separated that night and went their own way.

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Travelling Side Show

Step right up! Step right up! That’s right, come right here!
Do I have something to show you? It will make you jeer!
Inside this here old tent is a show to really tantalize, 
but first pay me your dollar and step with open eyes.

There’s JoJo, the dog-faced boy, who’ll fight you for a bone.
Then there’s LingLing and LuLu, who can never stand alone.
There’s a man in here who can lift about twenty times his weight
and another who will make you stare, because he’s 9 foot 8.

There’s so much that you can see with your bewildered eye
Just pass the dollar this way first and give this show a try.
Let your mind be free enough to believe just what you see
and when you gaze  in awe and wonder, you’ll come back to me.

You’ll ask me, how in hell did I find them, just the way they are.
I will answer with my pitch and a wink and say from near and far.
For they were gathered just for you from all around the sphere.
You can have the chance to see them, if you come back next year.

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Fred and Ginger

Paper waltz in candy light
flickering and swollen
We belong to yesteryear
in this moment stolen
Dancing 'round the silvered cane
sugared lips a salty kiss
Black and white on tv screens
longing stripped as pure as this
Flowing skirts in see through silk
tapping heels on marble floors
Slipping air into our pockets
makes me want you all the more
Might as well be strung on chords
candy floss from rafters wood
as we dance with swollen looks
spoken not, but understood.

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Do For You

Not pain I wish to cause,
Nor ever hurt my flower.
You have all of me now,
You have me in your power.
Control me if you must,
I’ll enjoy that better still.
The idea of that control
Gives unending thrill.
I said I’m here for you.
Here is where I’ll stay.
Treat me like you will,
don’t make me go away.
I’ll always be your muffin,
so butter, if you will.
I do all this for you
so you will get a thrill.

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I'm Always Close

No matter how I ever wander
Nor where I place my feet
I will be forever grateful
To the many friends I meet

I will never be too far away
Just hold me yet so dear
So if one day I am to leave
In heart, I’ll still be near

My friends do not ever worry
I will always be in view
For every road I ever wander
Forever leads me back to you

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For You and Thanks

It is with true heart that most here write
Reading then should be pure delight
Along the way we may make some friends
To all those old and new
This, then is for you

Thank you for being the way that you are
Without encouraging words we’d all lose our way
Quiet or speaking, matters not what you do
Matters that you are there, most every day

We sign on to write, to share and to dream
We read and recite, review, laugh and cry
It seems that the poets here on this site
Do more than just write; they are the “just why”.

Just why do we come and write and then post?
With hopes that someone will offer some praise
We get more than that, come on, don’t we folks?
We bond, make friends and just share all our days.

So thank you to you, my friends, to those who inspire
For people like you, here, is why we all stay.
And thank you to all those poets, who read now
You are the true lights that brighten each day.

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In My Mind

In a secret corner of my mind
A place I often go
I exit the world, peacefulness there.
It’s a place, we all should know.

A haven for thoughts or dreams alike,
A place of safety too,
But there, when I am alone in thought
I, so often, think of you.

Never wish to leave just where I am.
No, never leave this place,
For a look of happiness can always be seen
When looking upon my face.

I hope to see you there some time
And take a moment or two.
If you can’t make it, worry not
For I will dream of you.

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He's No Weiner

Each day it is get up before the sun, prepare the cart
Stock until it’s full and it is on with the day.
Mr. Johansson now has his work cut out for him
Selling dirty waters on the corner of 5th and Broadway.

For 34 years now, this has been his trade,
The vendor of food for the passers-by.
He never really made a lot of money it seemed,
But, he still never stopped and I know now just why.

His family had all for which they ever asked.
His time, he had given to them with love and ease.
A bank would never know him as a rich man,
But it’s through family and friends, that he succeeds.

He is a quiet man, just wishing to make his way,
Doing whatever it takes to provide and just get by.
An honorable man, no one could ever deny.
Truly more successful than you or I.

He never asks for help, independence he has.
He, however, is always willing to lend a hand.
If you are ever near the corner of Broadway and 5th,
You better stop and say hi to the hot dog man.