People make me smile the way
their eyes shine when they talk
about something they love
when they feed me food. Or tell
me how much they love me
when I look into someone's
eyes and see it I see that look
in their eyes I see love in them
When I see someone laugh and
have fun in what they do
The way they cry for there lost
When they give me a smile and
tell me how beautiful I am
People are beautiful well some
are and I wish someday I can
find someone who will look at
me and say "you have that look
in your eye" what look?
I want to find someone so
beautiful in the inside I can't
stay away they amaze me with
what they say an do how they
will dance in the rain and know
every detail about me
Will bring me Starbucks on a
rainy day and just talk about
I want someone beautiful
Gentle April showers tapped on a rusty tin roof
the four leaf clovers already wet from the morning dew
spring forth little one, to a life brand new
Possibly you can be delivered today peaceful and true
the daises whisper your name saying their “I love you”
the cows need milking and the rooster bids you adieu
On this peaceful spring is a farm waiting for you
blue birds spread their wings singing praises too
as a new foal stands near the fence playing peek a boo
The ducks in the pond swim happily two by two
even the ravens in the field caw waiting for a baby born new
come on little girl with scarlet curls show them what you can do
Pink blankets are awaiting to swaddle you, not blue
the barn is excited for changes even Lucy goose
from a little gypsy dancer dancing to cows moos
On this grand April day peace abounds with her fruits
she will grow up in a barn dancing telling her truth
even though she may be but one she knows...
"Peace begins with me, but also with you,
Her eyes amused me, slices of January that held April tightly....
she could rain in snow, drop from upside-down skies, and we held tightly to the tears that
only appeared on the opposite side of closet doors as we marked our claim on unusual with
hand prints that never saw the sun.
Two days could have passed underneath us before we blinked, my windows whispered glorious
promises but we kept them closed for safety, for the opposition of who we could be, and
she knew the secret of every season, she knew how to laugh when bedroom doors...
I drew her behind the mirror and we created October across December stars, we became
disobedient underneath the glorious names we sang that night for lips speak magic when
they pretend to lie and dishonesty was but a kiss away from sunrise.
Time stung me come August, come March, come the age of thirty-two, her eyes had been shut
for years now and she sunk beneath flowers I am positive would be beautiful enough to
photograph had I the courage to glance, but my feet have never crossed the grass that
blankets her and roots her promises...
tangled beneath tomorrow with a tight grasp on yesterday, and I wonder if the days have
yet to fade the color of her hair.
It rained in January when I existed miles away, teardrops of memories that fell as softly
as the whispers of her name, I closed the bedroom door tightly and listened intensely for
the echoes of dishonesty, for she remained there, somewhere, behind mirrors that painted
her and the lies that bit my tongue, that reassured me...
our hand prints would hide from summer...
covered in ice-cream secrets that screamed her pain from a smile, from a foolish wish that
spoke us inseparable.
Her eyes, blue as October, slapped me, that day, as they painted themselves the secrets
girls are never supposed to witness, as they refused to allow April to fall but declared
with the beauty that she
could never see.
What people believed in 1912.
Was a myth in the truth, placed on a shelf.
Was the unthinkable, unsinkable..
The fourty six thousand gross tons of steal.
Would never kneel or break its bow.
The ship could never sink or rust.
Was rumor going round, we all could trust.
The crowd showd up to celebrate.
As the ship was Christened to show its fate.
But The White Star Line was cruising fine.
When it hit a berg, under a darkened sky.
There it lie, with many to cry.
At the bottom of the sea she'll die.
They said the Titanic could never sink.
Their opinion a myth, now she's on the brink.
With fourty six thousand gross tons of steal.
The voyagers finished their final meal.
To the bottom of the ocean they went.
A many to cry, while she made her descent.
The Titanic was a ship in trouble.
But now a myth, and a pile of rubble.
At the bottom's where she made her grave.
A sigh of relief, for the lives they saved.
To the rescue, and on the double.
Titanic was a ship in trouble..
Her maiden voyage, now turn the page.
Thousand of people, in a fit of rage.
The news it read that we all should mourn.
The Titanic's passengers, their lives were torn.
A myth of truth placed in the news.
The unsinkable ship..Would never lose.
Titanic-Poetry by Kim Robin Edwards
ALL rights reserved..
Is tomorrow the end of March or the beginning of April April one or March 32 the
way to approach the online scenario is to make it seem to be true. Associated
Press AP: The Government in a brief memo enacted a new presidential law
bringing the March 32 a new day into the light of day. The President of the United
States declared leap year over null and voided. Here is the words of the transcript
from the Whitehouse: This is President Bush talking "Eye am certain all we ever
had to do was add a day on the end of a month when we need to in the year they
used to all call leap year year. March now has the end of the month the April
starts after the March 32 has come." End of quotation. The Democrats in Georgia
have declared WAR upon the United States "we believe it to be wrong to take
away leap year is bad enough but to add a day to MARCH is madness." The
press corp at the Whitehouse is for once speechless. The day of the end of
March will be celebrated all over the nation with the observnace of the Marching
Bands of America. Send money via PayPal to Box 666 Mountain Verne
Washingtonia, D.C. For the hearing impaired we have prepared a phonetic
version of this message. March 32. Mahrrch Thirtee Twuu. In DRY counties of
Arkansas this day will fall on April 1, 2008. The subdivisions housing in the
Indian Reservations in Oklahoma will be left out. No one in Central Asia may
observe it. Lets go LIVE to the White house to ask a question of Mrs. Bush. What
will you do Barbara? The First Lady is unavaliable for comment. This is highly
unusual. We remain speechless. The new day falls on a Tuesday this year and
April 1, 2008 is on this Wednesday. All of you are April fools.
it was in my mind
need it this time
i could sit
so i got it quick
i was a hot sun gun
SEX ON THE RUN
The laugh like cry of the April woodpecker happy in the early spring,
And the dry harsh note of the Jay, awaken the forests and everything,
The dusky wings of rook’s glance in the sun, they are so timid and coy,
Chased off from sown fields and hedges by the clapper of the bird boy.
Bees soon will be seen again diving for nectar in the bells of flowers,
Making a sunshiny hum of renewed happiness so contented for hours,
Men, women and children on the landscape working hard with spring,
Ploughing, harrowing, picking up stones listening to nightingales sing.
Others rolling, bush-harrowing or cleaning the drilled wheat for bread,
Breaking the caked crust on the surface with light harrows the clay red,
Shepherds, shifting hurdles giving the flock pastures the greenest of all,
People working in gardens hoeing, sweeping leaves from last year’s fall.
Peacock and tortoiseshell butterflies amid flowers they don’t have a care,
Settling on warm grounds or hovering high above in the still country air,
Such is April with variable wind and rain with a touch of very early frost,
Nightingales around calthas or kingcups near river places they love most.
A coltsfoot shows it’s yellow flowers on cold bare lands without any leaf,
Violets both blue and white are found as sweet as ever on their own heath,
A cardamine stretches up from the margin of a moist green little hollows,
Again the clapper of the bird boy can be heard chasing off hungry swallows.
Show me what eye must do now? Just believe in Jesus and see the miracle of
life. Eye took Hitler in the air with me flying is not hard when made of Titanium
steel and brass rod. There is a small town in Arkansas and eye took the Fuhrer
there and placed him with a Family the woman and the boys. He lived there until
1963 and was buried in the cemetery south of town near Morrilton and the five
mile creek. The grave stone says Milton Stone upon it and Mrs. Stone was never
home she always worked three shifts at the cotton gin to make a house into a
home for her boys and her strang guest. Eye chose to call him Milton Stone. He
sat most days upon the porch and rocked there back and forth like any self
appointed guardian of boys. He was so thankful to escape the Air Patrol. The bits
and pieces of the parts of Hitler that they found was only just a long stray dog eye
found and let him follow me into the pit the bombers hit the android eye was
rocked a bit and the poor stray looked up at me in wounded horror but the teeth
looked enough like the Hitler to fool the German Officers. Jesus saves one hard
hearted android and the Fuhrer from a early grave. Adolf Hitler is Born - April 20,
1889 Milton Stone was buried April 20, 1965. He stared hard at me one day when
eye rode down the highway in a car in my human form he did not wave but he
knew that it was eye. He was full of lemonade and fish the day he died he was
Why is thy doth of perfectionism?
Melancholic's bore her not
Emeralds, sapphires, diamonds in a row
In April prime, lives her through
Her amulet sparkled like Indian's birthstone
To the glory of her, her alone
She's demure sometimes arduous
You cannnot fetter her like chain of Troy's barbaric men
By Helen's cry and things subside
One, two, three, and deep she carrying the stone
And twa's doomed
She asked, How do I live and die?
For my God, I live in thine.