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Quatrain Imagination Poems | Quatrain Poems About Imagination

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

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Soul Of A Fanciful Unicorn - Life Of A Commonplace Horse

My life is like that of a commonplace horse
that stays where they’ve put her all day;
she lives very much like the others, of course,
accepting her fate, eating hay!

At times she is plowing ( for work is her lot);
at other times, giving a ride
to those who reward her with a smile. . . or not!
But seemingly, she’s satisfied.

For like many others, who graze in the field,
She’s needed and loved; she gets by.
Though life is not bad, to routine she must yield,
but her mind - which can’t rest - wants to fly!

You see, I’ve a soul not that of this mare.
I look through the fence and I see
pastures much greener, and far away there
are places much sweeter for me. . . 

I see myself frolicking in quietude
where the world has a rainbow hue.
With fanciful musings my mind is imbued
and the roses I’m sniffing are blue!

I’m gentle, romantic, yet wild and carefree,
and my coat is a glistening white.
Liltingly, I move like poetry.
And my essence is pure delight.

Yes, over that fence, I so want to go -
where creative thought is born;
where lyrical words with euphony flow,
for I am a unicorn!


For Frank H's Self Portrait Poetry Contest


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Heritage

The ranch on which I hang my hat, though short on most the frills,
Is thirteen sections, give or take, of rugged trails an’ hills.
We call it ‘home’, our little world, our very own frontier,
Amongst the cattle, sheep an' goats; the varmints, hogs an' deer.

Today I watched the breakin' dawn an' whiffed the mornin' air,
A time I often set aside for things like thought an' prayer.
A Mockin'bird an' Mornin' Dove, an' other birds at play,
Were there to sing an' set the mood to start another day.

This mornin' saw the strangest thing, like time itself had merged,
An' all the souls who once were here, appeared an' then converged.
In swirlin' clouds of mist an' fog, right off the bluffs they rolled,
Till all had gathered in the glen, the modern an' the old.

The Indians, conquistadors, an' other ancient men,
The soldiers from this country's wars, an' cowboys from back when…
They all had come from yesterday to help me understand
Our link with those who came before, to heritage an' land.

A crazy notion, so I thought, that they could just appear,
But as the morning went along the reason got real clear.
They rode along with me that day to show me things I’ve missed,
The things I’ve seen a thousand times an’ some I’d just dismissed.

Those wagon roads of long ago, still evident today,
Are carved in rock an' rutted earth, not apt to wash away.
They linked the missions, forts an' towns those many years gone by;
An' left their mark for all to see, as modern times grew nigh.

The artifacts an' weathered ruins attest to yesterdays,
When others came an' lived their lives in very different ways.
We've seen their skill in arrowheads they honed from fired stone,
An' craftsmanship in beads an' tools they fashioned out of bone.

At ever turn and trail we took was something to remind,
The Maker must have had a plan laid out for humankind.
The Earth He made’s been feedin' us a half-a-million years,
An' used it's wonder, force an' change to challenge pioneers.

I do not know if they'll return or if they’ll feel the need,
But I’m prepared to ride the trail, where ever it may lead.
We all are spirits ridin’ time with bodies of the Earth,
Whose time has come to take the reins an’ offer up our worth.

The land has been the legacy we cultivate an’ reap,
The life has been the heritage our father’s fought to keep,
An’ we are bound throughout our time with those who came before,
To put our hearts and souls to it, and make it something more.


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She Danced

The flowers danced within the breeze
The music box dancer danced with ease
She danced and danced within his heart
For he loved her from the very start


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SELF-GRATIFICATION IS THE FRIUT OF ONE'S LOVE

Self-gratification is the fruit of one's love,
making the artist's delighted face glow...
when every vision has been achieved,
and each intention joyfully revealed.


He will envision the shape and colors,
then transfer those images to canvas;
and with the gentles strokes of his brush...
real faces will appear and suddenly blush.


Thinker and dreamer, let passion and imagination flow,
don't be distracted by worries or external sounds below;
work diligently with your brush, transcending your own credibility...
but later, it would be too hilarious to scream out your insanity.


Self-gratification is the fruit of one's love...
that enduring, timeless legacy hard to ignore;
when others show admiration, you'll be so pleased
and motivated to add more laurels to your prestige.     


Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci


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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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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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My Sister Is An Alien!

My sister is strange
There's no doubt about it
She's an Alien,  that's why
Just get up and shout it!

Her mind control crying
Gets her anything she wants
I say "That's not fair!"
But she just looks at me and taunts

My sister is strange
There's no doubt about it
She's an Alien,  that's why
Just get up and shout it!

It's just a disguise
I'm on to her
Is she scaly
Or covered in fur

My sister is strange
There's no doubt about it
She's an Alien,  that's why
Just get up and shout it!

She's spying on us
They 're ready to invade
So don't just be frightened
Be very afraid!

My sister is strange
There's no doubt about it
She's an Alien,  that's why
Just get up and shout it!


She knows I'm on to her
She's calling for friends
So run for your life
And hide till it ends


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In My Vibrant Dream

*Past silver groves of willows weeping near a crystal stream, I move with an excitement flowing in my vibrant dream. Those colors that I take for granted in the concrete world shine brilliantly like buds of roses that have come unfurled. Ahead there is a field of daisies - wild yellow in bloom. I’m feeling golden; such enchantment whisks away all gloom. Atop a hill as bright a green as Ireland’s emerald isle - as day’s last rays of sun shine down - is where I’ll stay a while. Inside my dream appears white parchment; in my hand a quill! Across the sky there splashes splendor; all the earth grows still. A white swan’s feather now dips into ink a cobalt blue. As sky bursts crimson, I am painting all this dream for you! *Past silver groves of willows weeping is a line I borrowed from Heather Ober's "Into the Gloaming" Written by Andrea Dietrich For Richard Lamoureux's Pick a Line Any Line Poetry Contest


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Fancy's Flight

A lass named Fancy found herself forlorn, for in her world, the hues like gray and brown prevailed, so Fancy wanted to adorn herself with colors: boredom weighed her down! Her people shunned bright objects and deplored the colors’ burst of rainbows in their sky. However, such rare arches she adored, so Fancy wished for wings that she might fly. . . She sat and pondered; then a feathered quill came drifting down; she wrote, and poetry sprang forth! With joy, her heart began to fill as imagery replaced monotony! Though Fancy wore no wings, she FELT them there; She realized no longer would she thirst for beauty, for her words soared through the air. That flight of fancy came with colors’ burst! Written 5/19/14 by Andrea Dietrich for the Imagination Contest of Dave Wood


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Lovers Utopia

Magical crescent moon
Shining on the path below
Lighting the way for lovers
Together as they stroll

Exploring the enchantment
Of the animals and the trees
Finding their own Utopia
Beneath natures canopy

Together they may hear
A love birds sweet melody
As the crickets and a bullfrog
Seem to join in harmony

Sparkling stars and dewdrops
Fireflies dance about merrily
As winds song within the leaves
Plays a lovers symphony

The smell of jasmine in the air
Rose and chamomile so sweet
With just a soft hint of patchouli
A lovers perfume as they meet

The mystery and excitement
Passionate kisses, perfect date
These two lovers souls connect 
In this mesmerizing place 




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The Owl and the PusyCat Sail

Together the Owl and the PusyCat were married
Then again sailed out over the deep blue seas
Searching forever for the great Land of Nod,
To the place where they could find true peace.
True peace, true peace… Where they could find true peace.

The love that twined forever within their hearts
They sought throughout all the wonderous lands
Going to the place where they would live in peace,
A place where true peace, rules and lives in the hearts of the land.
The land, the land… Where true peace lives in the heart of the land.

Alas, the love of the heart, though truly not easy to find…
Is easier to find than the love of peace, found throughout the land.
So it’s said they will continue to sail, until that day comes true,
And when they land for the final time, will be up to me and you.
Me and you, me and you… That day will be up to me and you.



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Raindrops Fall

Raindrops now escape the clouds
and downwards they do fly.
Earthbound now their journey starts,
set free from blackened sky.

Let loose they dance upon the ground
and skip as if at play,
a melody they seem to hum,
music, natures way.

Into rivers, brooks and streams
each raindrop heads like home,
and over waterfalls they rush,
into oceans seek to roam.

They call to clouds for brethren rain
to fall and learn to fly,
to start a journey homeward bound,
and escape their blackened sky.


For PD's contest 'Best rain poem'
8th place


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My Little Box

Sometimes, when I am alone
I go inside myself
and I get a little box
I keep upon a shelf.

My box is filled with memories,
sweet days that I once knew.
One of my greatest treasures
is the memory of you.

Time has begun to fade it
and has bent the corners in
yet when I gaze upon it,
it comes alive again.

I let it take me over
I ride it like a wave
feeling every inch of love
you once, so sweetly gave.

It fills my soul with pleasure
and helps me get away
from all the tribulations
that I must face each day.

Yet it was not always beautiful,
this memory I hold.
It use to only give me pain
and leave me feeling cold.

But so much time has passed away
and the pain has took its' leave
so now I may finally
enjoy instead of grieve.

Once it has embraced me
and filled me with its' wealth
I put it gently in my box
and place it on the shelf.

I'll always keep this precious jewel
with tender, loving care
so that when I need it,
it will be waiting there.


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A Dark Tale

I laugh as I think of it now, the dire warnings of hell
Nothing could scare me it didn’t matter, on this teaching I never did dwell.
I wondered why one dark night, again begging for sleep.
No fear of death of dying no foolish promises to keep.

It was then I found the answer as I slipped down through the floor
Could this be a dream or am I now no more.
Has death come upon me, I feel the air exude from my chest
Through eons of time yet seconds, maybe days or years at best.

Before me an evil thing but there are no brimstone and flames
“Now we will see this hell you mocked and you will know my name.
You never flinched about the hell threat but you are now here
Not only that I am your father and now you will know real fear.”

He breathed in deep; my skin scorched, it left my body in one piece
The agonies, I must be dead my skin floating in front just like a fleece
My muscles sinews and skeleton were all that I now had
“I thought you were my father I screamed you can’t treat me this bad.”

A thousand legions of devils all came round mocking me
Each breath they turned my way seemed to rip parts off of me
“You will learn to master them but until then you have to pay
You start at the bottom in this work.” then the hounds of hell did bay.

“To inflict the tortures required to give me the satisfaction
You must first suffer them all, that is my attraction.
When you have suffered them all you will know what to do
My work will be in your hands this is my legacy to you.”

“But how can you be my father?” I screamed as the hell hounds tore at me
“My mother was the sweetest woman on earth and all around could see.”
“Ha! I am the devil why would I want a whore,
 They are already down here; it was sweetness I searched for.”

“Your mother scorned me, she did not believe in all the hellish games I play
So I showed her my powers and you are with me from this day.
You should have listened to the teachers teaching of my home called hell.”
He waved his finger at me and the screams I could not quell.

Now I wish I had listened and taken an earthly fear
It could have made a difference, I may not now be here.
I take delight in dismembering and gouging out the eyes
Flaying the skin off the ungodly, yet I do it for a prize.

One day I will rule this place then my turn will come
I’ll leave this underworld one day and do what my father has done
I’ll take a woman for my wife the sweetest there ever walked
And pass on my inheritance to the offspring that hell balked.
©~GG~23/07/2012

 


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Watching Clouds a Swap Quatrain

Where I once sat, another dreams
Of life and all its crazy schemes;
Some drifting clouds to wonder at -
Another dreams where I once sat.

Still living there, that child in me,
A barefoot boy and fancy free
Whose secrets he will always share,
That child in me, still living there.

To distant shores, on ships I sailed
Where pirates told their magic tales
Of treasure chests and ancient lore,
On ships I sailed to distant shores.

Now watching clouds another boy
Is captain of his fleet deployed;
Imagination's gift endows
Another boy now watching clouds.


Feb. 22, 2014


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Part of Me

There's a part of me that still lives on the water
A part of me that you can never keep
Tears fill my eyes as I dream  of the ocean
I see that island paradise in my sleep

My fishing boat lies sleeping in the harbor
Anchor weighing heavy on the ocean floor
I still miss all those nights at sea
My fishing boat will sail again no more

This was the life that I had chosen
From one port to another I would roam
Never stayed long enough to be familiar
Never knew a place I could call home

Sometimes I walk along the shoreline
Listening to her song out on the sea
That's when I know that someday I'll be leaving
The song she's singing is calling me

There is something magical in a night at sea
There's a million stars hanging all around
Untold stories lying behind me
New horizons yet to be found

Now that my sailing days are over
And my life is shifting gears
I can still resurrect those memories
When I taste the salt in my tears.


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Retired, B%$#@ing Movie Star

Where's the point?
Why go on?
I've got no support,
to face the dawn.
The brought me lust,
the got me friends.
In them I did trust,
numbers to all the men.
They got me on the cover,
of every magazine.
Cindy Crawford, move over,
they were quite a team.
Those were the good times,
they were at their best.
Now at the age of 79,
their just two old sagging breasts!
:0)


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Tomorrow

Tomorrow is a promise made that was never meant to be
Tomorrow is a dream come true that only we can see
Tomorrow is the time we plan to spread our wings and fly
If we don't take those first steps now, our dreams will pass us by.

Tomorrow is the day  when we start our lives anew
Tomorrow is the time when all the skies turn blue
Tomorrow is the reason that we hang onto our dreams
We need to start today to reach those goals it seems.

Tomorrow is a fleeting moment when our world comes all apart
Tomorrow is a passing glance as we give away our heart
Tomorrow is a triumph as we begin to touch the sky
If we keep waiting for tomorrow we should hang our heads and cry.

Tomorrow is the horizon as the sun sinks into the sea
Tomorrow is the time when all our people will be free
Tomorrow is the day when we come charging from the gate
But tomorrow never comes for those who only sit and wait.


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Little Song Bird

Little song bird in my tree
singing your sweet song for me
singing sweetly, singing clear
your song, it fills me with good cheer.

Little song bird sing your song
with all my heart I'll sing along.
A gift from God you grace the earth
there is no measure to your worth.

Little song bird, wild and free
when you leave, will you take me?
Together we could soar so high
across the endless, azure sky.

Little song bird, singing high above
your song, it fills my heart with love.
little song bird in my tree
with your song you set me free.


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BLUE ROSES AND CHOCOLATES

Blue roses and chocolates have been lying there,
untouched and unopen over three days now, 
sadly turning rejection into endless despair;
even light struggles to filter through the closed window...



My gifts aren't appreciated, or even remembered,
and I am torn apart by disbelief and tremor:
with the empitiest feeling ever contemplated;
my disappointed sweetheart expected more...



Perhaps a bracelet or necklace with dazzling diamonds,
would have made her definetely happy like any circus' clown;
if love lusts after material and insignificant things,  
it has no sentimental value in itself, only a monetary one...



Uncaring and silent, with a blank and wandering look that
disfigures the divine face I admired and worshiped always,
my embittered darling is overwhelmed with vanity, touching her neck;
sensing visions of glamour and imagining the feel of sapphires... 
 


Everything I gave her was given out of kindness,
and my blue roses and chocolates should be a gift 
of the kindest of souls offering the simplest things;
and isn't her greed more implacable than a sullen sky full of rage?      


Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci


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Butterflies and Silver Seas

Jump into pistachio talc
and fly on mists a'sparkle
Dripping off me is butterfly dust
Stand up and you can follow
Dive off the chair you sit in
to streams filled thick with cider
Nap on webs of candied cotton
strung strong by the sugar spider
Open your eyes under water
Catch up with me high in flight
Tether your wings to the sea horse's daughter
as she swims in the moon beams at nights
Sullied clouds fall past the ocean
sleeping on silver tide's arm
Drowsy me now from this butterfly potion
sleeping in ribbons and lavender charm
Imagine the ocean alive
with flutters of wings on the tide
Strip all your preconceived notions
and watch with your eyes open wide
Glisten in green innuendos
Sparkle and shake out your wings
I'm a whisper of water, a glint of delight
taking flight on the brink of impossible things...


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THE CONTEST WINNER

I have entered many poetry contests
to display my best...an amazing number of sixty or more,
only one of my poems has won first place;
poets are like enduring athletes who fight to the very core! 
 

One big hurray goes to myself for the first win,
congratulations to the other participants
who are on the top of that list, or have been
awarded Honorable Mentions for their efforts!  


When my poem doesn't make it to the finalists's list,
I don't feel discouraged, I brazen out the doubt and try again;
even Lance Armstrong, with his skills, can't always win his race,
and the trophy must be given to someone else!


I rejoice when some of the chosen poets appear 
on the winners' list; I am happy for their accomplishment,
and into a word-restricted message's box I gladly comment
on their poetry...with the insight of an achiever!


And for those whose names never made it as previously thought,
I honestly tell you, from experience, not to be a bit discouraged...
your time will come when your enthusiasm will require a big shout;
never put the word, " Winner " to rest, write for fun and persist instead! 


Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci


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TO SHAKESPEARE WITH ADMIRATION

He was the bard from Stratford, and as a teenager
he helped his father in his trade; he married and had children
and became the most popular and admired play writer
in all England...acting was also his other pleasurable passion.    


Curious Queen Elisabeth was one of the thousand spectators,
who came to see him in the Globe theater...she shed tears, 
and was stunned by the performance of his timeless plays,
and yet, some of his fellow-poets criticized him for his writings!


I wish I had lived in that Victorian era so intellectual and refined,
and had met him in person and had showed him my ample admiration;
I would have asked him the secret, which made him so legendary and loved...
and he would have whispered it to me, to make me revel in that revelation!     


I have read his inspiring works, and tragedies rampantly occur
from " Romeo and Juliet"...the Verona's immortal lovers, through" Hamlet "
whose insanity was undoubtedly caused by the specter of his father; 
and why didn't Shakespeare choose less dramatic plays not ending in death?


He wanted to teach us indelible lessons to show us how the human spirit
can be passionate, adamant, loveless, envious, cruel, unfair and treacherous...
to outline all kinds of guilt: from murder to envy so well-expressed with eloquence;
it's no mystery to anyone how he conjured up such plots with grief, madness and wit!    


Shakespeare was no ordinary kid, and he played with his siblings on Henley Street,
neighbors saw him trot to his grammar school, later he would make everyone weep; 
early in adolescence, did his prodigious mind envision one from a vague thought?
It's no wonder that he is widely read even today...hear his speak, he'll impart worth!  


Entered in Amy Green's contest, " Wow Me With Inspiration "


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ROAD TRIP

Drive across the country
Let imagination flow
Tumbleweed and flat lands
Reveal a western show

Mile markers pave the way
Across this land sublime
Wind blows through the car
On my arm sunshine

Generations of people
Spirits across the land
Occupy a history
Of faces in the sand

Deep inside our spirit
Adheres to our respect
This peaceful land of bounty
No one shall reject

Fresh cut grass lingers
The present rescinding more
Where old shacks and farms
Grasp our inner core 

Land abound with wisdom
Dust has settled down
Enjoy driving the distance
See another town


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Castaway Dreams

Warm summer breeze touching the palms
Two bodies entangled on a hidden beach
The moon enhanced by the Southern Cross
The depths of our souls within our reach

The scent of ocean, the taste of coke and rum
The sand between my toes as we walk through the night
The sight of a sailboat dancing on the water
Caribbean blue touching the sand so white

Untouched by progress, kissed by the Gods
Deserted yet so full of life it seems
I call your name and reach out for you
Tears fill my eyes for my castaway dreams.


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Nosferatu

  Brambles tear my cold bare feet,
I search the wood for you,
the forest says it is complete
there's nothing I can do.

  You left a letter on my chest
as silent as a dream
you said I know you did your best
but I'm not what I seem.

branches whip
 my tear streaked face
the wind laughs through the trees,
they say at last you have a place
from which you'll never leave.

A crush of berries marks your trail
so black beneath the moon
I know I seek to no avail
why chant the ancient rune.

a comet streaks across the sky
and rain begins to fall
turn back I hear the river sigh,
you never knew at all.

I turn my face up to the stars
and shriek a dirvish howl
I've nothing but a heart of scars
and you ,oh fiend most foul!

Idon't care what you have become,
I don't  care who you 'll be 
come back,come home,
let this be done,
I cannot set you free.





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Still Life Imperfect

Bitten fruit in still life oils
shined by light internal
shows there is no sweet perfection
immortalized eternal
Portraits crunched, pureed and such
by hands dissolved, ungifted
wipe the paint from canvas skin
until the stains are lifted
Soak the sky with thoughts of art
Speak like a simpleton speaks
Scour the ground for a speck of emotion
to hoard in your hollows for weeks
Reconcile to read a book
Bury your heart in it's sleeve
At the moment you feel like a still life imperfect
you humbly ask and receive...


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Sidecomb Over Here

.

The mirror surely lied this day
    There's an Alfalfa cowlick here
Just a little teasing_hairspray
    Oh! sidecomb over this left ear


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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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Missing

Here goes...
she said
it loudly and
proudly:

Hello…
l`m a miss
and  l miss 
you inside out

Truly…
I miss you like
bees really miss
their honey

Wow…
water for my thirst
food for my hunger
scratch for my itch

Well…
want to take
to you like 
duck to water

Oh…
you draw me
to you like
moth to light 

Yes…
you are my cake
my cup of goodies
my hot ice-cream

Indeed…
at night my moon
daytime my sun
your love my light

Relax…
take a seat
I sold that heater
for your heat

Please…
you bathe in milk 
l bask in your presence
a sublime quench

Finally…
what she did not
say is that we`re close
strangers on the net!


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A Parallel Universe



Imagine if there was a parallel universe Somewhere out there in space Other humans exactly like us Living in the same time and place This might spook a whole lot of people Not me, I think it'd be great To meet my alter ego in person To ask questions of my parallel mate Find out if he's sad when I'm down Or happy, when I'm over the moon Ask him what he thinks of the world's conflicts Does he nap in the afternoon There's a million questions I'd have for him Like what's all this madness about? Does he have a cure for the ills of the world? Is our time on this planet running out? There must be other forms of life out there They'd probably look strange to us humans Maybe they're still at a primitive stage But we're all still part of the plan © Jack Ellison 2013


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Secret Garden

How cool  ~
The secret garden. 
I have a key. 
Do you wanna go ?

I wonder   ~
What should we wear? 
How should we dress ?
When should we go ?

I'd really like to stay.
That is, if it's ok ?
I would plant flowers everywhere.
With little gnomes here and there.

And make it welcome 
Just for my fairy friends ~
That would come by to say hi.
And maybe plant a fish pond.    

For the little Koi to  come play.
From the babbling brook near by.
Fragrant flowers for the bees passing by.
But most of all .

Within this place I'd fined
Tranquility with peaceful grace 
So every morning before  I start.
I'd visit that secret garden within my heart.   



11  18   2012  Sun. 2pm


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A Tropical Dream



The air is sweet and  with the scent of flowers
Music drifts gently from the wind in the palm
Breathing is easy and I feel utterly at peace
Somehow in this magic place I find I am calm..

The surf is soothing as it reapeats its refrain
Life and its daily challenges seem so far away
But my dream this night is to soon ended
I wake to the dawning of the needs of today..
 


Barbara Gorelick


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Baby Elephant Walk

The flute plays low
Dum, dum, de, de
Organ joints the tune
Dum, dum, de, de

Clarinet delights the ear
Dum, dum, de, de
Baby elephant wobbles
Not graceful now

High piccolo shrill gay
Dum, dum, de, de
Trombone show the way
Woddle of baby elephant

Dum, dum, de, de
Dum, dum, de, de
Dum, dum, de, de
Dum, dum, de, de


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Embryo's Of The Imagination

The imagination is a sheltered womb Busy with embryos waiting to bloom Kindred ideas dormant in the garden of the mind Waiting for us to connect the modules stored over time As labor progresses the embryos ready their dreams for birth The arm of the mind releases the Words that are born to dazzle the earth The paper is the earth A pen is the writers shovel Words written are the seeds Planting produces the novel Those who read enlarge your crop © Carole Cookie Arnold


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A Party Under The Floor



Here's a subject Haven't written bout before Whad'ya think's living Under the floor Lately heard noises Like a party or such Like people laughing And drinking and stuff A vivid imagination Been accused of having Maybe the medication Is why it's happening Sure like to join 'em Wherever they are Got beer in the fridge And snacks on the bar Are you maybe thinking I'm losing my grip Then you'd all be wrong This dude's real hip A vivid imagination Is all that it is Making life interesting There's nothing amiss So relax everybody Just having some fun Don't mean no harm I love everyone MMMMUUUAAAAAAA! (That's a big smackeroonie!) © Jack Ellison 2013


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Gypsy Rose

Every circus needs to have a side show.
In the olden days you’d often see
unique and wondrous sights; you should know
you are reading of one now. It’s me!

I read palms and Tarot cards till night,
but then I loosen up and start to dance.
Though I surely suffer from no stage fright,
I don’t have to strip tease to entrance!

I simply shimmy in my sexy clothes
while swirling round; I sweetly sing and do
amazing magic, for this Gypsy Rose
has many ways of entertaining you.

A crowd of people I can hypnotize
and since I am so skilled, be wary lest
you look too deeply into my green eyes,
for reading souls is what I do the best!

For David Williams' Circus Poetry Contest


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My Christmas Miracle

. If I could have a Christmas miracle, I would surely like to go Back to Mama’s bounteous table And the ones that I loved so. My dear daddy would still be there, My brothers and my son, My young husband and my mama Before the sad times had begun. And because this is a miracle, My sweet granddaughter too, Would be sitting by her grandpa Whom in life she never knew. My daddy would give the prayer of thanks, The rest would say amen. When all the food was passed around Grand feasting would begin. Every morsel would taste just like it did, When I was an active child And had whetted up my appetite With hours of running wild. My brothers would do some joshing, My daddy would joke a bit. With so much love around that table You could stick a fork in it. Not another thing could I ask for Nor more blessings from above, It I could have a day again Of such pure and endless love.


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Astrid




A woman in a fairy world, made from human dreams
Goddess fair, conceived and born in the time of love
Bound to a place of whispering breeze and moonbeams
Voice as soft and gentle and the coo of the gray dove...

Came the time of summer  frolic and gay delight
And in her gleeful  wandering she paused to see
Her filmy beauty reflected in a woodland pool
Surrounded by the purple rose and cinnamon tree...

Amazed to see within the pool her quiet twin
Her every motion a study of pure synchronicity
Their fingers touched on one drop of water blue
Ivory wings folded in a moment for pure serenity...

Lovely Astrid tarried there until shadows crept
Entranced by the fluid smile on that shadow face
Finally bound by the magic of that glassy world
She slept, one hand dipped in that watery place....


For Constance's Reflection contest
Barbara Gorelick


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Bigfoot's Ancient Great Granddaddy

Who is Bigfoot’s Great-grand Daddy?

Whether living in a city or on the mountain side,
People from the world around astound us with their views.
He’s nine-feet tall, a hairy thing, uprightly he flees astride.
Only tracks are left behind and the mystery accrues.

They say that Big Foot does exist and for eons has survived.
A humanoid of greatest size a hairy manlike beast.
Is he really all they say, or are the stories contrived?
And if he lives, tell me, are our imaginations fleeced?

(Genesis 27 … paraphrased…) 
Jacob goes to get two goats and steal his father’s blessing. 
Their mom prepared a feast of goat, delicious, to Isaac’s taste.
Then, tied goatskin to Jacob’s neck and hands, realizing. 
Jacob dressed in Esau’s clothes calmly goes to his father with haste.

Meanwhile, Esau, far away was hunting for venison as asked. 
Traipsing around through the scrubby woods tracking.
Moving quickly with his great might to fulfill his father’s task.
A man with hair like that of a goat, his birthright was loosing.

Jacob smelled like Esau and the fields, but his voice…
Isaac questioned, so he felt Jacob’s goatskin clad hands.
Satisfied by the goatskin disguise, destiny made its choice.
Jacob received a blessing of wealth and all of his father’s lands.

When Esau returned with the venison feast, deceit was revealed. 
But it was too late his birthright was gone; he was very mad.
“Give me a blessing, father please.” He begged as he kneeled.
You shall live on the fat of the earth…unyoked…his father said.

I wonder –
Is Bigfoot, like Esau, a hunter-gatherer with hands as hairy as a goat?
Does he live independently, a type of man, a scary giant beast?
Wandering upon earth, too and fro, with life barely afloat.
Brothers separated by that ancient deceit filled feast.

Is Bigfoot the hunter-gatherer living on the fat of the land?
Has he since the day of Rachael’s scam lived secluded and beastly?
Have generation upon generation descended that ancient hunting man? 
Could Isaac in the Bible be Big Foot’s ancient Great-grand Daddy?



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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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SHADOWS

Shadows, shadows, big or small, I see them all around
Kissed by the morning sun, they come out all over the ground
We seek shade in some of these shadows from rain and sun
Clouds make them disappear; they come out with the sun

These clouds are reflections, dark, they stand still, walk or run
They grow longer and deeper, the sun moves down the sky
Aiming to reach the evening sun, these shadows merge in darkness
Blessed by the sun, they lived long or short, their day is over

Come another day, new shadows spring with joy in all directions
Taken for granted these shadows, I find in them our reflections
Blessed by the God like the rising sun, we live to see our day
At our evenings, God takes us with Him; some other sees a new day


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Crimson Slippers

Opening the doors to the old studio I find A playful capriole sprinted across my mind Into a sashay and a glissade I drifted back I could hear the teachers stick go tap.tap.tap Once a prestigious ballet school of great poise Filled with music as our slippers sounded with noise The mirrors are cracked and the floors dusty Rain soaked wood left the room smelling musty The charm stayed behind as if waiting for me Spotlighting a ballerina to The goddess of the sea The young girl danced flawlessly then took a bow Then sashayed off the stage without a moistened brow An old battered piano appeared across from me Bearing red ballet shoes like a crimson canopy Charm embraced her while honoring her memory As I looked into the mirror I saw that girl was me Carole Cookie Arnold 2010


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wasted my time

No curse words allowed
are you confused, lost, ignorant
you are no artist, you have shunned art
and its true purpose
what is art? but an expression
the low and vile are the most potent
Did you forget, Emerson The Poet
He would call you "selfish and sensual"
"an umpire of taste"
"proof of the shallowness of the doctrine of beauty"
in a world of suffering, of loss
Art isnt happy, and flowers in the park
you, in your confusion, hide in the dark
hide any truths of pain and suffering
and by doing so you have lost your soul
You are only half a person
art is an expression of life and its hidden
what is in a word? something to hide from?
something to fear? to censor? to fight?
are you that ashamed of language?
honesty? expressions of shame?
You are no poet, no artist
you are no immortal, 
of course you are so cowardly and weak
you will hide from me, censor me,
avoid the truth, lie to the world
if you cant stomach a curse word
then you cant handle me 
any immortal would crush you
and leave you wounded
truly contemplating your life
breaking you open, forcing you alive
then, maybe then, you will have an emotion,
worthy of expression into art. 
but dont get mad at me, angry or hurt
You may just use a curse word


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Blue Jeans

I'm a country boy who needs you
The first time you're washed you bleed blue
You go with all of my T-shirts
If I rip you I will be hurt

As crisp as Mississippi's air
I still will wear you with a tear
You are something I'll never share
Got four or five favorite pair

Something I won't trade khakis for
Brown as bags from the package store
Since my favorite color's blue
I want you in every hue

From the stonewashed to rigid you
When I can't buy I visit you
I'm hoping that they give me you
'Cause your fit I'm addicted to


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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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Fear

Darkness lies in silence, an ethereal stillness therein,
A wave of fear flows through you, you start to shiver within;
Your heart it beats so crazy, you cannot stop it from its fright,
From all the things imagined, that might go bump in the night.

So you start to wonder, is it just your imagination running wild? 
Then you hear a twig snap, and you revert back to a child;
all the fear within you, escalates beyond your control,
and so you start to run, yet it seems you run so slow!

All the while behind you, something's on your trail,
You lumber on in the madness, of your own created hell;
Every branch on every tree, seems to come to life,
They reach for you with bony fingers, into your soul they slice!

Suddenly the day breaks, the darkness fades away,
You see the trees for what they are, as their branches gently sway;
Then you laugh at yourself, for all the fright you felt,
As you follow the path before you, and your fear begins to melt!


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Nude and Open

My friend wants me to bare
All that's contained within__nude
Emotions covered for at least a decade__maybe more
He wants emotions to protrude

Like a compound fracture of the femur
Bone sticking out__ghastly
How could anyone want that
Horror pouring out for them to see

Must be a little mixed up themselves
Or maybe they like the gorey side of life
Where all is drama__a real bad scene
No__that is not for me__no can't be


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I Think My Wife Is A Vampire

I think my wife is a vampire,
My body shivers with fright;
For some apparent reason,
She stays up late at night!

Last week, she ordered a steak,
I gazed in stunning awe;
She took one peek at the menu,
And wanted it nearly raw!

No longer a "bubbly" red head,
She's dyed her hair to black;
Freedom of expression's one thing,
But I don't want a heart attack!

Candles adorn the hallway,
My emotions are withdrawn;
She always wants to stay inside,
Fearing the break of dawn!

Eerie are the days before me,
Curiosity fails to escape;
"Sweetie, are you gothic?"
"What's up with the cape?!

I wanna make a stand,
To show the wife who's boss;
One question stirs inside of me,
"Does she fear a cross?"

Changes right before my eyes,
What's happening to my honey?
Not only is she different,
Her voice sounds rather funny!

I want her to see a doctor,
My goal's to do what's right;
No longer does she kiss my neck,
Instead, she tries to bite!

She disappears in the mirror,
Her skin is white as snow;
What's happenin' to my sweetie?
She's lost that heavenly glow!

Maybe I'll hire an exorcist,
Give me a moment to think;
Is it just my imagination,
Or is it I who needs a shrink?!


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Clothes

I fear that I'm obsessed with clothes
and maybe shoes as well
always looking for something new
or a bargain in the sale!

My wardrobe's fit to overflow
but I seem to just add more!
Perhaps one day its doors will burst
and spill my clothes upon the floor!

Brian Strand's contest '2, 4, 6 or 8 line contest' 
H/M


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Mirror In My Pocket

~Mirror in my pocket~
Many years ago my Nana gave to me
A little pocket mirror, and she told me I would see
“See what Nan” I asked looking deep into the smokey glass
“You will see yourself” she smiled, and called me her "lovely lass"

It is a mirror so what did she mean, yet my Nan was very wise
And looking into the mirror, I didn’t recognise my eyes
Is this a trick I asked my Nan, while looking deep into the glass?
No trick lass, just a mirror but take heed of what comes to pass.

I slipped it in my pocket, thanked her and said goodbye
On the journey home I looked into the mirror, and it made me cry
Deep into the smokey glass I peered, but nothing I could see
No reflection of myself and I wondered how that could be.

 A woman then looked out of the glass, tears pooled in the saddened eyes
A face that was not my own, it was my Nan to my great surprise
She smiled and disappeared, my own reflection replaced hers there
Shocked and surprised, I replaced the mirror, with tender care.

I reached my home sixty miles away and lifted out the glass
A woman that resembled me smiled, and I wondered what had come to pass
Weeks did pass my mirror became a treasure never left behind
Because when I looked into it, it was of my Nan it did remind.
 
Then the day, I saw the mirror so grey and full of gloom
I peered into it knowing there was some impending doom
My Nans face appeared, and with tears she mouthed goodbye
That was the day she died, and the day the mirror cried.

The mirror, I keep close, as she did,it means so much to me
I will pass it onto my son when I think he needs to see
To the woman i loved and miss, my reflection changed slow-ly
It’s now the same one looking out, as when my Nan gave the mirror to me.

Time has passed the years have gone, my mirror is smokey grey
I’ll pass it on to my son so he can be ready for the day.
I took heed of the mirror over the years and what comes to pass
I saw that we all grow old and my Nan showed me, with a looking glass.
©1/10/2012 ~GG~




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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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Zephyr Of Spring

Spring's yellow-green heart shaped tender leaves blown
Spring's zephyr winds tossed new leaves to and fro
Quickly from hidden laden buds now grown
Absorbing sunlight, spring's green soon to go

Rabbits now from their cozy burrow run
Hop, jump enjoy green tender shoots of grass
While lazily basking in morning sun
Then in late afternoon hide as clouds amass

As the twilight cast its eerie shadow
The sleeping birds roost in their summer nest
Sleepily fawn_doe in lush green meadow
Darkness of night with shadows now brings rest


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Golden Rods Of Light

Long slender fingers golden rods of light Reach for flowering foliage thirsting in His sight Nature provides the nurture A constant supply of balance upon dawns newly designed future Her fingers playfully hop across crested aqua waves Toward apricot sands that reside along our shores unscathed Trumpet vines cling to a stony ledge Gracing the walls of a sandy path that leads to the water's edge Carole Cookie Arnold


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Sanctum

There is a place inside,
Maybe deep in my heart,
Where I sometimes hide,
When I fall apart.

Many secrets here I keep,
All my feelings, too,
The dreams when I sleep,
And my wishes to come true.

It is where I can go,
When life is just to much,
I let my emotions flow,
And I am out of touch.

I am happy in that place,
Even when my heart is sad,
All the troubles that I face,
Suddenly don't seem so bad.

In this place I can fly,
Way up to the stars,
The moon passes me by,
And I could soar so far.

It is a world of fantasy,
Maybe deep in my mind,
It can take away my misery,
There's no better place to find.


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Finding God

Within the shadows of a weakened mind
Like children huddled in the night,
I see a blanket under which to hide
To save me from my fearful plight.

Unlike the child whose savior is the dawn,
My fears survive the light of day
And grow within a devil child that's born
To feed upon a faith decayed.

As terror grows from Satan's dreadful seed,
And thorny roots entwine the heart,
A plaintive cry within a soul that pleads,
"Oh Lord, please save me from the dark."

For darkness without faith pervades the light,
And evil fear invades the soul,
Yet shrinks before my God's eternal might
And runs from blessings I extol.

Craig Cornish
Spiritual


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Creative Juices

Juices are flowing
Like fine red wine
Wetting my appetite
A shower of rhyme

A storm of ideas
Rain down on me
Quenching my zeal
A creative sea

Rivers of words
Relieve my thirst
Drowning in pools
Of eloquent verse

Flooding my soul
With waters so deep
Filling my reservoir
Vast oceans to reap

Juices are flowing
Like fine red wine
Wet with enthusiasm
A shower of rhyme

© Jack Ellison 2012


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Reflections Epode - TROCHEE

music's turning little dance								                     sing the sonettos 										          cabriole a turning stance										          ballerina's toe	                                                                                                                              ~												               tops cheval bureau a glance								           songs of little strophe    											 on look the spiraling chance									          day dreams étoile's soul                                                                											


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The Pen

The pen's a sword for carving poems.
A wand for measuring beats.
A whip to keep the rhythm
and a stick to tap the tweets.

It's silent to the ear-drums
when heard inside the head.
Words firmer than my chin bone
in notes from what seems dead.

It points to things I question
and scribbles errors I make.
And when it writes some new stuff
forgives me my mistake.

At rest upon my paper
it signals that I'm done.
And when I go to grab it
I'll click it just for fun.


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We Have crossed The Galaxy To Find Dross

~Alien Abduction~ Lying on the sun warmed grass Breaths mingling, hearts as one Condensation clouds painting pictures that make us laugh The change is sudden and not such fun A swirling opens in the sky A force beyond comprehension Lifted from the grass, from my lips escapes a cry Nothing we can do- there is no prevention. Elbows bang, knees are skinned Fear takes a hold on us Sucked up in the air and pinned Far to scared to cuss. We are prodded we are poked Looked at inside and out I think that we are being choked I pray that we pass out. The floor opens a smoked glass room Swirling down, is that the moon? A voice ominous deep with gloom Is this the end is this our doom?
“Be gone you are a waste, consider yourselves tossed We have nothing more from you to learn Even though a galaxy we have crossed.” “You can teach us nought You are nothing but flesh and bone We seek those that we know can be taught You are the dross, across a universe we have flown.” “Go back to counting grass That is what you are fit for We will leave this earthly mass You are not worth our time in war.” “We want a people to command for them to make us their kings Not spending time making love, not thinking of anything… We are warriors of the galaxy we crossed your milky way But you are worse than dust to us and we won’t be back another day.”
©~GG~ 26/07/2012


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Everyday Magic

The sun breaking dawn in the morning,
That invisible stream called the breeze,
The blazing burnt sunset at nighttime,
What magical mysteries are these!

Even the pulse in the city:
With ornate neon signs all aglow,
Is a castle in the eyes of a child,
Filled with wonders only they could know.

Strange to think that there's everyday magic;
Quite unlike what we read in our books,
But the world is filled with such wonders
So long as we know where to look.


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Cricket

The sonnet crickets hymn Can awaken life in a day The darkness of night dim Lonesome cricket in the hay


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All Natural

<                                   earth ~ third planet from sun
                                     liquid and iron ~ cores
                                     continents  ~  islands  ~  pun
                                     arctic  icing  ~  drips pores

                              
                                    wind  ~  natures own fury
                                    flow gasses ~ bulk movements
                                    storm ~ hurricane ~ jury
                                    place in pocketbook ~ dent


                                    fire ~ oxidation
                                    combustion ~ releasing 
                                    heat ~ light ~ good ~ tar nations
                                    pollution ~ choking ~  thing


                                    water ~ called H2O
                                    oxygen ~ hydrogen
                                    evaporation ~ goes
                                    will exceed supply ~ when ?

      
                                   earth ~ wind ~ fire ~ water
                                   Nature's elements   ~ sure 



Entry For
Barbara Gorelick's
The Four Elements Contest
G.L. All
    
                                    
                           


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Clouds up in the sky

Thoughts swirl around like clouds in the sky.
I am surrounded by a world much larger than I.
I close my eyes and then I’m up in that cloud,
As the clouds part it’s like lifting a shroud.

I see down below, all appears so small,
Visions of crashing, hope I don’t fall.
I drift and swirl and then it’s not clear,
Maybe my fate grabbed the wheel to steer?

Night clouds move in as it gets dark,
Shadows appear tainting my heart.
A cloud makes a shining light go out,
Shadows become this sea of doubt.

Thoughts seem to change just like the clouds, 
Truth and light arrive hope they’re allowed.
I can’t break free as my mind goes numb,
All seems to be lost so I want some.

The clouds get thicker and I can’t see,
Although the future is right before me.
Maybe my thoughts just get in the way?
Yesterday joins in as a part of today.

The clouds swirl in circle like a merry-go –round,
They sneak right up on you without even a sound.
Some clouds disappear but soon they return,
I look for the answer around the next turn.

The clouds part and the sun comes back,
I find myself getting back on track.
Thoughts flow freely through my head,
I open my eyes and rise instead.


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Mermaids


The embodiments of our dreams
King Neptune's lovely daughters
We mortals strive to find you real
Lusty sirens of the sea blue waters

Of face and form you are perfection
In your golden hair a seashell gleams
Dressed in glistening scales of green
Magical perfection, or so it seems

With muted voice you bid us follow 
And in mist and foam you slip away
In the depths we find the answer
Only in our minds the answers play



5/30/14


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A river runs through the city

Like wild fire, tempers flare, 
shots and stabs, city streets tainted,
crime and sin, people glare, 
my river runs through it, vindicated.

Awake before the sun, and the sleepy city,
Of possibilities, fascinated,
the night of revel fun, the waning dignity,
my river runs through it, intoxicated.

gleaming flower, bride in white,
a new life is born and designated.
the old man’ death, his last ride,
my river runs through it, celebrated.


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Toaster Strudel Trochee

<                                       Toaster Strudel - Trochee

                                         
                                        I just crave toaster strudel
                                        Piping hot pastry
                                        Cool icing so can doodle
                                        Kellogg's bakery

                                 
                                        So get to popping me one 
                                        Time to used noodle
                                        Pop tarts boring just no fun
                                        Choose toaster strudel




Meter: 7/5/7/5 
Rhyme Scheme: a/b/c/b or a/b/a/b

The meter is trochee, which means alternating stressed and unstressed beats in each line, with each line beginning and ending in a stressed syllable. This is a simple lyrical type little poem, so rhymes will be basic, nothing fancy. The poem itself should give a description of something of interest to the poet and often the meter lends itself to humor, much as a limerick does. There is not a set number of these quatrain type stanzas, but a typical 7/5 Trochee would consist of two quatrains, with the second stanza serving to tie up the idea presented in the first stanza.


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A Gift of Poetry

A gift of poetry, what a beautiful release
Falling out of myself and into imagination
My daily, not-so-guilty pleasure
Leaving reality behind for the joy of creation

The blank lines on the page tempt me
A gift of poetry, what a beautiful release
Thoughts take shape, begging to be set free
Stitching the words together will always bring me peace

When a poem takes on a life of it's own
That's when it achieves greatness
A gift of poetry, what a beautiful release
To which I am a witness

Inspiration flows from pen to page
And the glimpses of my passionate soul increase
I'm wrapped up in something I dearly love to do
A gift of poetry, what a beautiful release.


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Imagination




'Imagine'. Life's wurth without, 'imagination', could we iver contemplate creation? A gif' to have in oor ain mind's een, without it, nuthin' wundrous wid be iver seen. Rabbie."O wad some Power the giftie gie us to see oursels as ithers see us"! Wid that no' be a wundrous plus? Imagine if, oor een had that gif' tae see, aw' whit in life ,we wid luve tae be. As a lad, tae see aw' lass's ways, tae see their mind's een an' be ofay. Tae ken whit they imagine life tae be, whit they wid want aw' lad's tae see. An' as a lassy, tae ken aw' Lad's minds, an' their wishes, fur their ain mind's, tae find. An' dugs an' cats an' aw' wee creatures aw', tae see their wundrous thoughts we've niver saw. An' tae see through wee burdies eens, beautiful fields below o' verdant green. An' tae soar wae oor imagination free, Tae see life's wunders, in aw degrees. Tae feel , the sounds, and see the breeze, an imagine the thoughts o' aw' the trees. Fur oor minds tae feel like aw' the fluers, tae be coloured aw' day an' at ivery 'our. Banish Poverty wid a'ways be in oor minds, nae wars tae poverish aw mankind. Equal rights fur aw' creatures livin' oan this earth, let oor imagination gei strife the widest berth. Aye , Imagine if aw' that an' aw that could be, Nae sleekit thoughts o' oany degree. Jist the power tae see hoo ithers see life, Imagination tae banish, aw life's strife. Imagine tae rid oorsels o' aw life's disease, nae mair tae pay aw thay awsum fees. An if we could imagine ithers point o' view, nae need fur lawyers or the need tae sue. Oh a wush in sum wee way, aw' the wurld's folks kid be ofay. O 'the power o' imaginative thoughts, an' fur those thoughts niver tae be bought. See aw' ithers points o' view, fur free, Ithers views, as we wid like them tae see. Jist hoo wunnerful the wurld wid be fur us, a gigantic, brammer, humungus plus. A'ways, afore a lay ma heid doon tae sleep, Imagine guid things an' fur ma soul tae keep. Oh whit a brammer wundrous gif' Imagination,----- jist imagine. ----- If. The Auld Yin.


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The pond revisited

I visited the pond where I often go
As I sit at the edge there appears four ducks in a row
The first one looks like the navigator leading the way
The last duck is like me and takes another course today.

The last duck swims closer and begins to quack
It has no intentions of turning back
It seems content with the path it chose
He quacks again to let the other three know.

I pick up a rock a skip it across the pond
I watch all the ripples they don’t go beyond
They stay in the confines of the banks
I feel like the duck that has just broken ranks.

I start to see my life much like the pond
The ripples are like change they don’t go beyond
Somehow they find the outlet and then they are free
The change moves outward like the ripples inside me.

The sun start to set and it’s time to go
There’s so much in life I really don’t know
But the world around me continues to put on a show
I feel the change inside me flourish and ripples grow.


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The Windmills Guest

She stood there looking down to ground 
Her once home land she knew
Her eyes saw the drop when she found
The Miller was not true

His choice was money or true love 
His heart he split in two
She found out she was the money.
Then down the windmill flew.

The Miller was distraught it seems
He never meant her death
A lesson he was taught in dreams
Yet still he feels her breath

She called his name as she did jump
It landed on the breeze
Her body landed with a thump
He fell down to his knees

The error of his ways he learnt
But still married for love
But the image was forever burnt
He knew it was his shove.

His true love it then did turn sour 
It was false and no jest
The love he wanted for money
Was now the Miller's guest

The guest walks the mill and land
Sees the wife now untrue
She watches for the hour glass sands
For her revenge to spew.
© 16/03/2013

Competition Entry


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Aurora

Dawn inspires with her captivating blend
of watercolor hues,
the wisps of fog, the apple crisp air,
the electric charge of the new.

See how she bleeds through the trees
and crests the mountains high
laying her grace, all over the face of 
of earth* bound creatures eyes.

Dawn reforms the listless born
and clinks the glass of time,
raising a toast to night who boasts
of jeweled skies in summer time.

See how she weaves with each breeze
the threads of weary fate,
tending her loom from birth to tomb
a fate which none escape.

Dawn breaks each breath that we take
with beauty so sublime
no hour* can resist her kiss,
her never-ending climb.

See now, Aurora’s diadem slips
see her prismatic shine,
bow to her royal Highness 
welcome morning’s time.

TIP: Use as much fresh UNPROCESSED product as possible
       the packagingis filling the dumps & BACK TO cloth diapers!


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In paradise

In Paradise

She sits within a paradise
Near fruits of orange hue
Upon a book, so gaze her eyes
Beneath the sky so blue

The birds in wonderful delight
Sing in this morning hour
Beneath the sun so softly bright
She feels life’s gentle power

Then her eyes they softly close
Her mind goes very still
This lady [ such a precious rose]
Such wonder she does feel

The birds, the flowers all around
Become a misty haze
Another paradise she’s found
Which her, it does amaze.

She feels a presence everywhere
Her heart begins to sing
As she bathes within a joy so rare
That only God can bring.

15 July 2014 @ 1020hrs.

    For Isaiah's contest 'A poem in Paradise'


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My Favourite Poem

I have this piece of special verse; it’s pure, profound and yet serene. It scans and rhymes, a little terse, but with a meaning clear and lean. I love this piece of special verse; I feel it here, close to my heart. I nurture it, I am its nurse; as guardian, I play my part. I say this piece of special verse, from very start and go right through and should I then forget, I curse and curse again. That’s what I do. You want to hear this special verse, or wonder where it can be read? I fear the news is bad, or worse. I keep it here – inside my head! ~
For Russell's "Poetry about Poetry" Competition. 11th January 2013.


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Donut People

                    Donut People

Not all donut people are large or police or thieves
Nor are they thin, eating only greens and leaves and vitamins
Or exercising on the side of reasons muscularity
All this takes time to digest of course

Another hole, another donut down
Finding the criminal intent within is not a sin
Each and every calorie must be accounted for
According to health reports and other sources

Sugar particles find their way to court
Another bite out of crime….(but what about the obvious holes in this story?)
Public opinion is all about perception and what went down
All energy and money spent takes time to digest as well

To track down lost donuts, confections imperfections
Bring it to just desserts and deliciousness of justice
Our dedicated police will not sleep on just one donut
Their job has just begun

All citizens of our fine town
Can rest assured…. (So let them sleep)
Why!...Some of my best friends are donuts…(the mayor shouts.)
There is nothing wrong with that  


Knowing one is out there unconsumed….
Leaves donut people too confused
Children are donut people too
They eat them all, run back for more….Poof!.....They’re gone

Confectioner’s confess and conjecture 
Did girls and boys steal or simply borrow them?
Dusting off sweet powder and tiny prints of suspects
Leads to one conclusion 

Convictions are in order for any one large or small…mostly small
When donut snatchers perpetrate such crimes
Donut people have their rights to eat in peace
Protected from crumby children who steal their treats 


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The Tea Drops

Just a little, maybe a few drops
In a cup that was once full
For you_tea just like you wanted_tops
But there is some left that was cull

Well at least once you thought 
That you really wanted it
Not like some of that you bought
Or acquired through other means__get

So is life filling of the cup
Drinking it up until almost empty
Left to be dumped not savored sup
A pity the last drops are the best of tea


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Behind Every Cloud

As the dragon roared across the sky
It seemed to grow another eye
Hiding from the dragons flame
I could see a lady, head bowed in shame

She lifted her arms as in supplication   
Holding them up for the duration
The dragon roared past the lady of shame
Ignoring her plea and let loose his flame

We waited to see if a champion would come
And deal the dragon a blow 
If he did would the dragon succumb?
These things we need to know

To the side she fell and rolled away
It was then a dolphin came out to play
It leapt and swam before our eyes
These wondrous shapes that filled our skies

I held my breath spellbound for sure
My little nephew wanting more
He pointed out a cat with no tail
And I saw a racing car growing a sail

The show was over the clouds turned grey
Another shower on our summer day
The stories it told for the morning so grand
As my little nephew held onto my hand

The magic of the clouds above
The ever changing scene they play
So much amused and fascinated us
We will be back to watch another day

© GG 15/08 2013


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Magic journey

"I open the door and cross the threshold of imagination"
A Rambling Poet 

destiny takes me to a fine stallion,
a gift from my lad as he vowed,
she is the best steed in a million,
the most enchanting and proud.

We mount, hands entwined in rapture,
but after her first trot, most astonished,
as a movement of undulating nature,
and a slow ascent is accomplished.

Our hearts brimming with elation, 
muted souls soar through the sky,
miles away from our imagination,
the diminishing earth below does lie.

like restless birds of spring days,
reluctant to retire,
the silhouette of feminine grace,
in awe, we admire.

The crystal blue lakes
tie strips of satin ribbons
On emerald spread 

From up above,
perils of earth evanescing,
from up above,
meandering through pristine clouds, 
we wander the skies breathtaking,
buoyant spirits ever rising,
from up above.

Quatrain Haiku Rondelet

Name: Sharon Well

Contest name: Three Gems

Date poem written: 07/29/11



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Edward Blair Leighton: The Windmiller's Guest

How blessed are the green hills below
Upon which doleful eyes are cast
And the quiescent river flowing  by
Contented each day going pass 

She is barred from being in his company 
As she belongs to another
Yet, love is alive in her elaborate dreams
Where they are free of her brothers

In dreams they are riveted in discourse
Of love in hearts and all it brings 
The run down old windmill is their cozy home
Where white doves courting nest and sing

Soon, time draws nigh when she must wake
The thick, distant fog rolling fast
It hangs like gauze over the face of the sun
She is saddened her dream can't last

Her eyes flutter open, they fill with tears
In vivid recall there they stand        
Deeply conversing on the threadbare deck
His eyes reflecting love so grand 
~*~
02/22/13

Note:  For Isaiah's Edward Blair Leighton's Painting Contest-"The Wind miller's Guest"


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The Garden of Love 2K12

Thro' enchantment's copses, a transportation; Countless vacation an ancient garden. Love's eden; A rapturous teleportation Wherethrough blooms roses adored therein such garden.


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Afraid

Where am I Peter?
Where am I Paul?
My feet seem to teeter
I'm afraid I might fall

How did I get here?
How can this be?
My sight is unclear
But I'm afraid to see

Who is in on this guys?
Who would make such a plan?
My feet are tightly tied 
But I'm afraid if I ran

When will I be let go?
When did I arrive?
I can't hear a soul
But I'm afraid of who's alive

Why did this happen?
Why is it me?
My body feels strapped in
But I'm afraid to be free


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Mine Old Friend 2K11

Greetings mine olde kith! Sincerely am I, Praying dreams upon thy pillow are kind; Nightmares absent. What joy thou bringest I! May this writer avoid thee not - O mind.


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Shadow Dancing


I'll go dancing with my shadow It keeps such perfect step with me Dips and sways and follows Were a perfect match you see The timing has to be just right Afternoon or early evening best My figure so perfectly outlined The setting sun creates the rest My shadow knows me well It always hides my salty tear Dancing- just the two of us Until my true love does appear


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Sweetpeas- George Dunlop Leslie

Sweet and simple flowers held to her innocent breast A wistful soul brimming from brown eyes so dark Face untouched by life's mysteries yet to come With his brush stroke this beauty did embark


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The Real Me

There, in that new world, There, where revered is the great bird I am the one known as Maya The one so beautiful, with a mystical aura A goddess of nature, Spreading on my path, only pleasure A goddess of fortune Imbibing those who persevere with a merciful boon Powerful in battle, strong in keeping safe Those who have for me great faith Beautiful and gorgeous I am the only one so glorious! And here, I hide in a human body Hiding behind my powerful humility Hoping someday, to be once more arisen There, from where I am now fallen!


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Found A Thrill 2K11

'Twas Dreamland - therein Wonderland were I, What a buzz! Wake didn't become that buzz kill, No disturbances of dormant mind nor eye, No intervener's - as I've found a thrill.


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Terrifying Ogre

In memory it is standing still with decrepit stateliness, a crumbling mansion on the hill, in pathetic loneliness. Mama says when she was young it was owned by a rich man and was the nicest house in town. Just picture it if you can. When the Great Depression hit, the rich man lost his money. He jumped from the highest window. “Now, no more questions, Honey.” There were rumors that his widow stayed after her husband died, but no one saw her often. If one called on her, she’d hide. In my childhood the house frightened me, like an ogre on the hill, coming to life at night-time, with emptiness to dispel. It was searching for careless children who dared to get too near. If caught, they were seen no more in their homes or any where. My daddy said it was the wind that made the sound of sighing. My young ears, when I listened hard, could hear a woman crying. By: Joyce Johnson 9/14/11 Won a 2nd For Constance My Dear Heart’s contest “Creepy, Scary, Haunted House Poem, Pleas”


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Oh fish

If God is such a gracious giver
This water was boiling oil I wish,
so straight from the running river
...I'd have instant deep fried fish.


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Maniac

A maniac drummer
Beats through the chest
A rhythm unheard of
With which I’ve been blessed

Shots of adrenaline
Tickle the brain
Our one more chance
To go completely insane

The mind going numb
In the madness of night
In the midst of it all
There’s love at first sight

A dark, tempting flower
Blossoms black in the nox
No attention is paid
To the tock of the clock

Newborn ideas
Sprout from minds of the mad
Betwixt insane and sensible
Doors between the good and the bad

Soul and mind are demented
Inhibitions are shed
Brainsick and unhinged
Real life is dead

Impractical imprints
Unbalanced and sick
Infatuated with pain
As this time bomb ticks…


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Seven Days Who knows

Seven days it was so long ago
Your loving heart you then did show
Seven days it seems eternity
That you gave all of your love to me.

Seven days for you to understand
You hold my trust in the palm of your hand
Seven days how long the days do seem
Was it all in a seven day dream?

A dream or a fantasy who does know
Seven days and my love for you does still grow
A love gift from where it came who knows
Who knows from whence loves wind blows.

Who knows how the heart it does entrap
Who know why our lives do overlap
Who knows where these things will end
Seven days and my love I will still send.
 
A day for a year a year for a day
That what the Bible in scripture does say
So seven days or seven years, numbers count not
As every ounce of my love you have now got 

© ~GG~ 22/01/2013 


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Victory Bells

Journey exhausting, just a handful survive
Last night’s hellish storm by evil contrived
Mothers, children fully dressed on stand by
Ring out wild bells to the wild sky!

Hellish storm rolled further out to sea
Captain up the starboard came to see
Surveyed horizon then gave loud cry
Ring out wild bells to the wild sky!

Women, children ordered to board first
Ship mates, two to escort, dying of thirst
Battered row boats leaking seemed to nose dive
Ring out wild bells to the wild sky!

Hit soft white sands at dawn despite fears
Silver hair Parson led the Thanksgiving prayer
Discovered fresh stream from boulders up high
Ring out wild bells to the wild sky!


Note:  Entry for "Ring Out Wild Bells To The Wild Sky" Contest
Sponsor:  Dr. Ram Metha


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Darkness Swallows Me Part One

Time passes and I wonder how did I come to be here.
 I remember watching you from across the misty lawn.
My heart seems to stop beating and I'm almost in fear.
 One minute I see you so clearly, the next minute you're gone.

Maybe I'm dreaming and I never saw you at all.
 And why am I scared at the same time drawn to you?
Your sultry stare captivates me completely in thrall.
 I shake my head as if it would change my perfect view.

I will myself to walk far away from your entrancing eyes.
 I'm shaking and I can't figure out why I'm so scared.
This has to be my imagination playing tricks on me I surmise.
 Then you appear before me as if by magic and I'm unprepared. 

I panic, breathing heavy as I turn to run where you can't find me.
 All of a sudden you're before me and I never even saw you pass.
I try to go in another direction, my instincts say to run, flee.
 Hiding in a room, hoping you won't see me thru the stained glass.

No such luck, you somehow breathe my name from parted lips. 
 How could you know my name, I've never even met you before.
You swoop behind me and my body is lost to your shadow's eclipse.
 Grabbing me, tearing into my throat, lapping up the blood and gore.

My knees give way and I'm too stunned to even manage a scream.
 White spots cloak my vision and I'm feeling as if I may just faint.
I look down at my favorite dress, in the moonlight my blood gleams.
  A calm washes over me and the biting feels good, isn't that quaint?

Darkness swallows me and to my relief, I am feeling nothing more.
 Visions of gnashing teeth, and spurting blood haunt my once peaceful rest.
Jerking awake, only to realize I lay in a crumpled heap, incredibly sore.
 I see that I have a bite on my throat and an even bigger one on my breast.

How will I explain this, and what do I do now, where do I go?
 No one will believe me, I'd never believe it if I wasn't here to see.
How odd, I seem to be healing fast, I see that scabs are starting to grow.
 I walk towards nowhere, this night was something I didn't foresee.

I sniff the air and smell an oddly familiar scent of earth, musk and fur.
 It seems to pull me in that direction, as if I no longer have control.
My instincts tell me that I am going somewhere safe and secure.
 I'm healed now, my dried blood now leaves me wondering, do I still have a soul?
 


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Fog

Appears a ghostly vision, fog in from the sea.
As if sentient in movement,  shrouds all in it's mystique.
With a cyclop eye, lighthouse lends a mournful wail.
While specters breath dampens all, your marrow the chill impales.
Out of sight, crashing waves, sound loud as if they crawl,
following the living mist, as it breaches the seawall.
Seeping round panes and doors, into every crevice.
The very air liquefied, a grey oppressive presence.
Wood smoke blends it's flavor, to the tang of the air.
In hopes the flames beat it back, keep tendrils from drawing near.
Slowly fog tastes it's fill of wooden planks and blood.
It leaves a sodden salt strewn smell, seeming to just dissolve.
Folding back on itself, returning to the brine.
Fog waits yet another morn, to return to shore and dine.


"Your Best Poem" contest
Placement: 2nd place

Featured poem of the week ending 
Oct. 31, 2010



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The Stars Reflection

He sat there on the edge
of the rocks above the shore
lost there in his thoughts
like many times before
he noticed how the water
seemed to glow with life
and for a couple moments he
forgot about his strife
the light came from the moon
high up in the sky
and he longed to be among the stars
but had no wings to fly
so he climbed down from the rocks
and waded past the shore
he drifted away on the stars reflection
with a heavy heart no more

By Morgan Mise
Written January 6, 2013


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Abstract Image

I see the blue which seems to be infused Blended together with red that refused Refused to be alone without purple As one resembling that of a gurgle Yellow seems to be put within the red With orange coming into view instead Instead of just the fading blue within All the colors blending with what’s taken There’s spokes, just like on a bicycle wheel Those that look like bark, a white brown feel Tree placement within this illusion placed Veins spreading out at the bottom like lace What is this delightful illusion scene Of abstract nature which isn’t obscene This scene might be of a faraway land Where colors everywhere comes to and band Organized and true, this image is right Right within the mind and harbors some light Soft and well formed the warm sight truly is Even cool blues bring a warmth such as this Mixture of colors bleeds in each other There’s nothing like it, just not another I enjoy the color blast with the trees I will always visualize this a breeze
Russell Sivey


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WAITING FOR THE MUSES

Did you ever suffer writer's block, 
When you couldn't write a line?  
When you struggled, hoped, and waited  
For that inspiration shine?

Did you ever beg the muses 
To intervene on your behalf, 
And find them in a stubborn mood, 
When they'd only sit and laugh?

They've been playing coy with me, now,
For far too many days.
They nearly drive me up the wall,
With their mean, contrary ways.

But I still love 'em, don't you know, 
And I'm sure that they love me.
I know they'll sing and dance again,
If I wait patiently.


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CONJURER

CONJURER



In imagined corners of her darkened room
My child sensed  insensible terror
And her fear conjured danger and gloom
Since she knew not of her error :

For fear is the only darkness  -
So we set about befriending the black
And understanding the starkness
Of mere  light’s  lack

With stories and tales of a burrowing  rabbit
And other creatures feathered and furred
Who live in the dark out of habit,
Singing the songs of the sightless bird

Or  of  dwarfs toiling in a black mine
Deep down in the pitch
Looking for gold and diamonds fine 
And not even seeing which is which 

These leaps of her mind 
Were the start of the light
Which helped her conjure and find
Imagined friends on the darkest night.


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Stay or Hate?

It is late and yet cannot sleep
For when I close my very eyes
A face into my dreams does seep
And from me emmits my sighs.

The hour grows very late
But if I dare to succumb
Then morning I shall hate
To see the rising sun.

In my dreams is where we meet
And there is where I feel his lips
And know a kiss that starts so sweet
But then it is his neck that feels the nips.

In dreams I feel full of fire
And wonder if this is real?
Wonder as I am full of desire
How does he really feel?

Does he dream of me as well?
Does he wonder what it means
Or does the thought make him quell
As he is dreaming the scenes?

I want to feel his touch
Experience his passion
Beyond any as such
Before or after a fashion.

He is the one I want
Yet distance does divide
And dreams of him does haunt
Even during my waking side.

I cannot wait 'til the day
I get to be in his arms
For there I will get to lay
And be mesmerized by his charms.

That will surely be the day
That I anxiously await
To see if with me he will stay
Or the sight of me will he hate?


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Just from a seed

From a single seed so much can grow,
The moment it starts, its beauty will show.
All that it needs is light, water and care,
Soon it will be strong and always be there.

Everything starts from something so small,
Then we are amazed as it begins to get tall.
The more that you nourish, the more you can see,
When you add faith it shall continue to be.

A seed is like knowledge it can continue to grow,
The more that you understand the more you will know.
It starts with a dream and then maybe a thought,
The seed can grow into something that was not.

Without care the seed shall wither and die,
Much like in life you must first learn to try.
So many pieces, yet none of them seem to fit,
Perhaps it will make sense, if I just wait a bit.

I see so much growing, the birth of spring,
Flowers pop up with the fragrance they bring.
Soon all the trees shall don their new leaves.
Open your eyes, dreams of beauty they weave.


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PONDER DEEP AND HARD

How can you hide, from the all-seeing eyes! 
How can you fight, a spirit that never dies! 
What makes you think, you can freeze the sun! 
Whoever told you, you're the almighty one! 

How can you hold weight, when you're so hollow! 
Who said you can erase, your own shadow! 
What makes you think, you can shake the unshakable! 
Who gave you the power, to be incredible! 

How can you live, with the wrong computation! 
Why not ask God, for the right equation! 
Why not take your time, quit living too fast! 
Why dwell on your troubles, that will never last! 

How can you gain, if you refuse to give! 
How can you kill, and you fighting to live! 
Why shouldn't you get burned, playing with fire! 
Why shouldn't you drown, in your lustful desire! 

How can you love the invisible, and hate visible men! 
Why shouldn't you get mawed, wrestling with lion! 
Whoever told you, zero and zero is one! 
How can you proceed, with your math undone! 

Who made you omniscience, a know-it-all! 
Who gave you the crutch, to break your fall! 
How can you think, robbing God is okay! 
Who said if you give, blessing's not your pay!  


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True Silence 2K13

Herein slouchless posture silent and still
Stands I hoping to capture silence now,
But what I've perceived as silence not still
Proves fruitlessly herein the here and now.

Who, what where, when, why, and how, springs to mind.
Now I come to a draw-like conclusion,
Silence may or may not be in the mind.
Can silence be shrugged-off as illusion?

It's difficult in this day and age for
Which to achieve true-silence, if at all.
Perhaps true-silence existed far before
Space, time, and life ever existed at all?


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AUTUMN'S PRINCESS, WINTER'S QUEEN

Clothed in robes of shining light,
That billow in the wind,
She flies across be-nighted skies,
From even to night's end.

Sometimes silver, blue or gold,
Sometimes rainbow hues,
Always glorious to see,
She leaves me so enthused.

Her hair a mane of silver,
Flowing wild about,
With streaks of gold and sparkles,
Surpasses without doubt,

All the beauties sung about,
Of goddesses of old.
She's Autumn's princess, Winter's queen,
Seen when the air grows cold.

Floating just below the clouds,
She sips from God's own chalice,
Crystal nectar, pure and sweet,
Aurora Borealis.


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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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Enduring Fantasy

Her words peal through my fatigued brain
They ricochet in epicycle like a torrential rain
My riddled brain cells jostle in appealing fantasy
As they transverse the trance music banging in ecstasy

Her words resonate classical moments, when,
We are in one of those escapades, as we often yen
We are in one of those romantic postures,
And I feel the prickly feeling of pleasures

Her words echo the dreamy moments, when
I feel her caressing hands on my body, then
In deep pleasure for her numerous wanks
My lower tube responds with poignant spanks

At the climax she feels the prickle pleasure
In knowing how obsessed she’s become, for sure,
That, I wield an utmost control over her
And have become her enduring catalyst as a lover.



For Black Eyed Susan contest, In a Hotel Room


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A Dream Woman 2K11

She'd be those nightly moons - those daily Suns, A dreamcatcher enmesh - nights dreamt mesh dreams, Daydreams - memories - memorable ones; Song: "All I Have To Do Is Dream"; What dreams!


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The Smiley Formation

Dawn has cracked the horizon
With fiery red open greeting
Invites birds fly sky emblazon
With colors to start day moving

The crows are delighted to catch
Gentle air currents and swiftly glide
Seeking a grounded spot to snatch
A delicate meal __ grubs that hide

As they fly low in formation
A smiley face granted to see
They start to entertain me
Before place sentinel in tree


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ME, MYSELF, AND I

   I guess you could call me a silly guy
   For humor is how I get through the day.
   I love telling stories, writing poetry, and romance
   Each in its own separate way.


   I could be called a "Hopeless Romantic"
   As I have always been sentimental inside.
   I learned that feeling growing up
   Watching my parents, and their worlds collide.


   I knew my Dad better than anyone...I think
   He and I worked together for some time you see.
   And when he died at an early age
   Everyone seemed to be in tears but me.

  
   Of the six kids in our family growing up
   I had a brother named Ron that I was closest to.
   He had a sense of humor and devotion to his family
   And he would always find strange things for us to do.


   We loved driving around in his old MG
   When it worked it could do no wrong.
   He took me for rides I'll never forget
   To teach me his favorite Irish drinking songs.


   His death really put me on the writer's path
   As I eulogized him with "Remembering Ron".
   But afterward I could not stop the words from coming out
   As if a spigot had deliberately been turned on.


   So I have written poetry, stories, and a few songs too
   I'd like to publish something some day.
   Getting to read and write here on the Soup
   Pehrhaps, I will finally find the way.


   I believe in the goodness of man's inner soul
   And that God intended for us to be happy here.
   The love of Wife, Child, and Family
   Just make me want to stand and cheer!


   I'd like to see us not have wars
   Or even have cross words with others we meet.
   Sometimes I plead my case in the words that I write
   And sometimes, the proverbial "Dead Horse" do I beat.


   I look at history as a great learning tool
   For I've studied Antropology in college you see.
   And all the past comes into the present time
   At least, it does for me.


   So I will write works about historical things
   As much as I write about family, love, emotions, and silliness too.
   Just so others can get some insight into me
   And perhaps their own lives as they should do.


      I don't know who will read my work
   Or if they benefit at all from the things I say.
   I only know that this passion to write
   Is one that is here to stay.


   Some people think I'm kind of grumpy
   I guess that is also true.
   But the words I write fill that void inside me
   This is but one more poem...for you.


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A place to make my mark

I look at my life and the journey I’m upon,
As the sun hits the horizon it marks the dawn.
My life is like a chess game and I the pawn,
As I take my next move the pathway is gone.

Gray skies are simply some clouds passing over.
Perhaps my luck is changing I find a four leaf clover.
I wait for the return of the sun, it raises my hope.
My future is before me like a carrot dangling from a rope.

Sometimes the descent is far worse than the fall,
Maybe I should run and pick up the ball,
In the concept of time I remain rather small,
I gather up some speed but then hit the wall.

I look to my heart surely it knows where to go.
What was previously new, the cracks begin to show.
I had hoped by now that I would just know,
You must plant a seed for something to grow.

I look all around and take in all I see.
All of these things become part of me.
I see some leaves fall and know what shall be
Haunting shadows, cast by the lifeless trees.

For now the colors take my breath away.
The air is so crisp on this autumn day.
The animal scurry to find food for the winter
The fabric of life becomes a tree that has splintered.

Although the fabric is tattered and looks worn,
I wonder to myself why was I born?
Is there something I’m missing or is it in front of me,
The closer things are the harder it is to see.

I wander down the street and take a seat in the park.
The sun starts to set, soon it will be dark.
Life seems to glow or perhaps it’s a spark
As I look for a place to make my mark…


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I Without Love 2K12

I'd pitifully be of loves absence.
No hugs warmth, and soft kisses awaits naught.
Walking about endless paths of nonsense.
Seeking therein a world wherefrom time waits not.


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Poetry's Legions 2K11

Poetry's Legions, for asker's are we;  
Asking for open minds and open hearts?  
Poetry's Legions, for basker's are we;  
Basking therein soothing warmth of much hearts.  


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Hitting a Writer's Block

I've hit a Writer's Block, I fear,
For now nothing makes sense,
My subject matter is farily bland,
I can't make it intense.

Perhaps I need a break from writing
But such ideas I cannot bear,
For I find joy in intriguing
All of my readers out there.

I've hit a Writer's Block, I think
It took out the rear tire
Of all the dreams I rode upon
Of the goals to which I aspire.

I look to the sky and beg for help,
Or some weird idea; I'd try
To use what I'm given to fix my dreams,
For if I don't write, I will die.

I've hit a Writer's Block; I might
Have injured it somewhat badly,
Unfortunately, as blocks don't die,
It will pursue me, madly.

What does a writer do, to have 
Earned such horrid fate?
Should I have had a headlight on
When I was writing late?

I've hit a Writer's Block; it's true,
Even as I now pen;
But the Writer's Block hit back,
And it will hit again.


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Glorious Sunrises Stored

My flashlight has both hi and lo
So I can run, walk, or go slow
Up hill in the sun__down in dark soon
Go downward aided by the moon

For the moon will shine full tonight
But there may be clouds to dull light
On top of hill see world below
Give up its soft early night glow

I'll stay with flashlight in hand glad
For solitude, stillness, note pad
Writing life's events that make sad
Just very short while I will stay

For I will have to rest to face
Day, if the Lord allows the grace
Of being on earth short while more
To receive blessings that are stored

Those blessings that are stored away
Blessings that are packaged for me
If I ask, I shall receive more
Like  glorious sunrises in store


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A Poem By Me

Consecutive syllabic lines
I'm needing all my words to rhyme
With subjects from love to nature
Written on college ruled paper

Many different styles and forms
Learning the make up of a poem
Put together pieces by piece
To say something that's none the least

Every word is sounding smart
'Til it becomes a work of art
That will belong to only me
And last throughout eternity


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Beautiful Imagination

By artist's hand, it was lovely crafted
Perfect strokes that it has
A rare beauty of a lass
First to behold on canvass




9.26.08


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I Need Magic

I need a magic potion
I need a magic spell
I need a magic wand
To get me out of this hell

I need to make him notice
I need to make him speak
I need to make him desire
To be love sick and weak

I want to be ravishing
I want to be full of grace
I want to be bewitching
To see passion in his face

I want to be victorious
I want to reign supreme
I want to be the queen
To be worshipped in his dream

I need to cook up a potion
I need to mix it right
I need to make him drink it
To look at me with delight.

My magic potion is rancid
My magic wand is dead
My magic spell is useless
To make him love me instead.


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December 21st

If the world is to end today
There will be no Christmas
If somehow it doesn't end today
That notion dismiss it


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Cartoon Bubbles

Cartoon bubbles floating up high
A globe of iridescent wonders
Gossamer gloves against the sky
Changing as they drift and plunder

Do you see the child inside,
Floating up within you?
All is free in this bubbly façade 
Allowing you your own view

Bring those cartoon bubbles to life
Exhale…. imagine you’re on one
Lifting softly floating away strife
A heightened spirit presumption

Cartoon bubbles floating up high
Blow one outside for everyday fun
Knowing always that you too can fly
Any time in the afternoon sun


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Contemplation

Everybody got a Sophia in his life,
I just don't want loose strings,
Several forces gather and collides,
I must step back from these rings.

The story doesn't stop when it ends,
the contemplation will always be free,
in the rough land or thoughtful sky, [as a wayfaring stranger, ]
I'm going where it's going to be.

The cricket as the same size as infinity,
the plenitude towards the horizon,
whistling and fizzing coming from the sky,
It suddenly turns my skin wizen.


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Perhaps A Past Life



I feel such an affinity for the earth
For rivers, mountains and wild things
At times I feel I've been here before,
Before the angst the modern world brings

Was I a maiden, with long black hair
Who lived beside the great waters
Did I follow the buffalo, the people's path
Perhaps I was a warrior's daughter

In my dreams I hear the beat of the drum
And the smell of the campfire comes to me
Yet in the light of day I pause to wonder
If it was just a dream, or perhaps a memory



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heretical epiphany

Meditating in the garden Gethsemane
Jesus decides to become agnostic
not believing the religion himself
perceiving a clearly telling prognostic

He sat within the still winds then
blowing all the possibilities around
his soulful mind could not pretend
birthing this idea was fundamentally sound

"What am I doing here anyway?" he thought
"What made me think to try to do,
that, that mankind cannot be taught.
It'd be better, without all this ballyhoo"

"Love one an' another I said on the mount"
blessed are the meek, the pure, the mild,
yet these souls seem incapable to surmount
their tendencies toward erratic and wild"

All these thoughts swirled in his head
his darkness matched the coal cold night
thought he'd maybe retire to Cairo instead
maybe turn a new corner with his life

He was just about to firm his thought
and tip-toe toward that far away land,
when for the few disks of silver bought,
troops took him forcibly, in their hand

The crowd, the soldiers, the leaders all,
insisted that the show must continue
Jesus had grave reservations after all
and tried to move to a whole new venue

But the die was cast, the end was clear
the faith of the faithful must be built
now Jesus thought this strangely queer
that faith be created by him being killed

"These people are a bloody race,
the god before them is bloody too,
to die for god, to save his face
seems an unkind, unforgiving, thing to do" 

Crossing o'er on crossed beams of wood
Jesus, painfully, was now aware,
the ironic irony nailed him good.
"This race of people, they just don't care."

© Goode Guy 2013-01-07


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Universal tranquilogy

floating along in the cosmos
a diamond in the sea
a pretty little planet
how can this all be

so many yet so few
in the ratio it seems
birthing forth the life
of what's all to be

so much beauty 
in a whirling tendril of flame
yet its all just energy
even you and me

life has more energy than the sun
nine times more in fact
the energy of one
watching evolution react

sparkles in the sky
show us through the night
we all need to ask why
instead of trying to fight

I hope this reaches all
while were spinning here in place
I hope that we don't fall
from floating in outer space


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Sucking All The Mist Away

As the Cliff Swallow
Flies the sky
In the disguise
Of sun reflected cloud

The mist silently rises
To meet him in the air
As the two greet. commune
Their forms gradually combine

Being changed slowly
The Swallow disappears
Phatom like into the blue
Sucking all the mist away


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Mind Power

I had many adventures when I was young,
But now they are so hard to find;
However, though my strength begins to decay,
I can still have some fun in my mind.


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Fright of The Living Dead 2K12

O Tony, wherefore dost thou feel out of sorts? Existing so - tho' not soothly living. Haps thou art the living dead which resorts Into its cold chamber ne'er living.


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What Dreams are Made of

Dreams don’t have any boundaries They never follow any rule Sometimes nice and make you happy And yet they can be quite cruel Often based on reality Imagination plays a role Nightmares seem so real and scary You awake sweating, yet you’re cold Really bad ones can be horrid Whenever dreams go that way Likewise, good ones can be super Give you a smile to start the day Sometimes you just don’t remember The things you dreamed during the night I feel memory was stolen I need a recall to feel right Since dreams are a two bladed sword Never say, “May you dreams come true” Dreams can be as bad as they’re good You wouldn’t want that wished on you


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So Mote It Be

Knowing that this must be done
I head out in the dark of night
Knowing none will have their fun
Nor will they have any delight.

I call upon Spirits of the Earth.
Air, Fire, Water, Earth, Spirit,
I beg of them to consider my worth
I hope that my plea they hear it.

Lightning sizzles the air
As if my plea was heard
Oh my I shiver there
Feeling onward spurred.

I stretch my arms wide
And feel this ancient power
As I know I am no longer denied
While I am here at this precise hour.

All those fools that have hurt me
That have at my expense a laugh
Know that this is what I cree
And your pain is not over not by half.

In my circle I do spin
Chanting my chant
And await the spell to begin
Knowing that my wish be grant.

I warned you once you fools
That I was not one to toy with
So the Earths spirits are my tools
And you will know I am no myth!

Reap what you sow
This is my wish and cree
Let it be granted so
For you shall not flee.

As the Earth shivers
with Lightning and Thunder
Feeling the power like rivers
Flow through me with wonder

Go , run, and try to hide.
I do so dare you to try.
Tonight I will not be denied.
Mother Earth has heard my cry.

This night shall soon end
And mortal fools they are
My will shall not bend
As I raise my hands to a star.

This is my will
I cry to thee
As my spell fulfils
So mote it be.


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Fight.Be.

Fight for what you love,
For what's right,
For what you believe in.
Just fight.

Believe in what you want.
Believe in who you are.
Believe in prayer,
And in wishes on stars.

Pray about mistakes.
Pray for what you need.
Pray for those you love.
Pray in faith, not in greed.

Love those in your life.
Love the little things.
Love your tribulations,
Because they help you get your dreams.

Dream with faith behind them.
Dream without inhibitions.
Accomplished dreams are celebrations.
Dream as high as the stars you wish on.

Celebrate each moment.
Celebrate each year,
With joy and with laughter,
Some emotion and some tears.

Laugh without limitations.
Laugh at those trying to hold you back.
Laugh and learn to move on.
Laugh like you don't know how to act.

Learn to move on from your mistakes.
Learn to persevere and be strong.
Learn to listen and inspire.
Learn to pick yourself up and keep on.

Inspire yourself.
Inspire those around you.
Be inspired by the life you see.
Put inspiration in everything you do.

Live without any regrets.
Live with a smile on your face.
Live with pride in what you're doing,
And not with other people's disgrace.

Do what you believe in.
Do what you feel is best.
Do what you have to to become who you want to be.
Do you and don't worry about the rest.

Be someone you can respect.
Be happy when you see your reflection.
Be strong when no one else is.
Be unafraid when the time comes for action.


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Son Comet

I made a home in a star
Meant to keep me warm
But the flames grew so hot
I lost all shape and form

And dripped from that sphere
So high in the sky
To a crater on a moon
Where I was left to dry

After I cooled in that crater
I explored that new place
Marked by such time
Was that moons lovely face

But the dark side brought the cold
And I knew I would freeze 
So I caught a ride
On the celestial breeze

I sailed those solar winds
To the blue ball below
Searching all the way
For the highest plateau

I landed on the tallest peak
And felt the difference in that place
From all those I’d been before
In the extremes of space

I was far from the cold
And far from the heat
Yet somehow, on that green ground
Those two seemed to meet

And dance around in harmony
Just like that bright red sun
And moon that chases after it
When the day is done


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Tonight I Went to Heaven

Tonight I went to Heaven

Tonight, I went to heaven even though I was asleep.
Alone stood I in a clouded hall, confused and at the brink.
Starkness attacked my presence; bewildered I began to weep.
In the distance, I saw figures and my eyes started to blink.

Slowly white approached me…light was their backdrop.
Awe-stricken by the quiet, my eternity seemed so near.
I could not feel my heartbeat throb; soon, breath, too, began to stop.
My swirling head spun very fast, images appeared unclear.

With open arms they greeted me my loved friends and relatives dear.
Peace and light surrounded everywhere as starkness disappeared.
“Come, my dear, do not shed your tears. Our Father is very near.”
I walked with them beyond that light; my trust had been commandeered.

I did not see the pearly gates, but the streets were burnished gold.
Winding paths where chariots passed on golden bricks placed with care.
There tapestries spun from angel hair, I spellbound did behold.
Glistened by the Father’s glow that radiated loves bright flare.

I expected the grandest mansions, exquisite, very plush.
But saw small dwellings of much style each one prepared...in place.
People walked upon the streets, but not one soul did I see rush.
Simple, like the Savior, unfettered-love filled Heaven's space.

Soft music permeated, heavenly singing infusing.
I wondered why they took me from the hall to that lovely hill -
Dressed in perfect whiteness they came with pureness embracing.
And led me to my amazing and beautiful dreamy thrill.

© July 17, 2010
Dane Smith-Johnsen


© July 17, 2010
Dane Smith-Johnsen


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MEMORIES OF A FISHERMAN

I remember how you looked that day;
How happy, young and free.
Your sun bleached hair, your sun bronzed skin,
I watched you from the lea.

You never saw me standing there,
I'm glad it stayed that way.
We never spoke, we never met,
But I came every day.

I came to watch you cast your net.
You were my mystery man.
I whiled away the live long day,
Watching from the sand.

You seemed to have all you could need,
The surf, a boat, a net.
I close my eyes and click my heels,
And I can see you yet.


                                  Judy Ball


For Close Your Eyes And Click Your Heels Contest by Michael J. Falotico - Aug. 22,2011


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Illuminate

Like the sun's kiss in the morning
Pitch black dark with a flashing light
From a lighthouse when it's storming
That helps to guide you through the night


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A Playful Thought 2K13

Therein imagination does she linger long.
Within imagination she cannot do wrong.
Ha! The funny thing is that I know not
Her name nor whereabouts; What a pleasant thought.


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BE MY IRISH ROSE

Be my Irish rose today
In my heart where shamrocks play
Where St. Patrick used to roam
Come with me, you have a home
Walk with me where life's serene
Is a song of Irish green
Down beside the Irish shore
Dwell with me at Heaven's door
Drink a toast to Irish bliss
Where the leprechauns may kiss
Dance and shout, the world's at play
On this great St. Patrick's day


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Two Lentos



MY FIRST LENTO

Well here's my first attempt at a Lento
Tell me how am I doing so far
Swell that you thought of including me
Hell I could be your next Lento star

Send me a challenge and I'll get right to it
Tend to get excited when I write
Lend me your ears and I'll do my best
End up with my ego taking flight

© Jack Ellison 2013


LENTO NUMBER TWO

Here is number two, so how did I do
Clear I've mastered this clever form
Fear that others will give up in frustration
Mere handfuls will weather the storm

Stay with it, you'll find it so rewarding
Lay there Lento-ing through the night
Pray you don't wind up in the looney bin
Stay with it, and you'll soon get it right

© Jack Ellison 2013



Lencio Rodrigues has created this new form of poetry called a LENTO!
It consists of two 4 line verses where the first word of each line rhymes
and the end of the second and fourth lines rhyme.
He is in the process of collecting Lento poems from around the world
and publishing them in a book. Much success Lencio!



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With This Ring

With This Ring I Pledge My Love You Were Sent From The King From The Heavens Above, It All Started With A Kiss At The End Of A Special Night That's When I Knew I Couldn't Miss I Knew It Was Right, The Next Thing We knew We Were Husband And Wife We Were Both saying 'I Do' I Knew It Would be for Life, I Wouldn't Change A Thing Because It's Helped Me to Grow And That Is Why This Ring I Hope Will Show, How Much You Mean To Me How Much I Treasure Your Love And That You Will See Our Love Was Made From Above


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End This Frenzy!

May we rest, now?  Just for an hour, or two?
Twenty four seven, being busy
Doing the million things we do
And now that you type real fast, we are always dizzy!

While your toes do practically nothing
Except dress up in socks and shoes
Our day has no end and no beginning
We’re always in the groove

Conscious or unconscious
At every beck and call
Aware that your time is precious
So we give it our all

Where would you be without us?
Who would scratch that itch?
Maybe time management would end this fuss
End this frenzy before we ditch! 


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Soaring

Have you ever imagined the feeling 
Of soaring up over the clouds 
With only the breeze between you and the earth 
Away from the bustling crowds? 
  
With occasional sound of the fiery blast 
That helps keep your airship afloat 
A peaceful and heavenly solitude 
As you sail this celestial boat 
  
Imagine the total serenity 
As you take in the breathtaking view 
Corn fields that go on forever 
Mountains that reach for the blue 
  
Riding on currents and sunbeams 
A feeling takes hold of your soul 
As you drift over streams and babbling brooks 
Your at peace with the world, you are whole


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Student's Descent

with apologies to E. A. Poe...

Student Descent

At first the chamber's gentle rapping could not my slumber even stir,
but as it came to be a tapping sonorous visions were to be no more.
And as I stumbled in the darkness, I heard her voice distinctly cry
"O Ed your offer reconsidered will now with me an evening buy!"

Femininity with such harsh bravado, what lady offers such taboo affairs?
I've read of men, weak in the loin, who fall into such infectious snares.
Flesh's joys can wait, I've got to study, for school has such quick paces
and as a student of the arts, time's robbed me of all social graces

Alas, I dream of that day of bliss, but now Ed's the man and I'm the other.
I ask her name and Eleanor is given, by her, but certainly not her mother.
"He's not here, in fact, I don't know him." I utter with a boy's tone.
"Well I'm still here, and you're awake, and so am I and all alone."

My thoughts arranged like a card deck dropped, and left with such a feeble mind.
Should I ignore this dream, or is it real? Behind the door what will I find?
A gentleman would let her in, at least she'd have safe haven.
But to my shock with doors pullled wide, there's nothing but a raven...

Now I'm not mad, but this is odd, as a women spoke, not a bird at my feet,
so I sprint to my room, bury my head...but now it's clear...the wooden floor's
got a beat...


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Hats

Have you heard the term “man of many hats”
Well you sure haven't heard this version!
When I wear a cowboy hat and saddle up
I'm Jesse James, what an amazing conversion!

At times I feel brave and put on a fireman's hat
The wee kiddies all wanna be my friend!
Tell them I was once knighted by the queen
Probably lying's not a good message to send!

The hard steel hat of a construction worker
Turns me into a this macho type man!
The only problem is, I'm scared silly of heights
And I make lots of trips to the can!

Once put on the hat of a big strong viking
Sure scared all the people around me!
Pulled out my sword to impress them all
Ended up cutting myself quite badly!

The ultimate though is when I wear a fedora
I look handsome and quite debonair!
Till I speak and I sound like a Donald Duck
My image needs a lot of repair!

Guess I'm most comfortable in my jester hat
Tried others but this fits me the best!
My goal is to put a smile on everyone's face
All my friends with whom I've been blessed!

©Jack Ellison 2012


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Deep Sea Fantasy






Far below the rippling surface
I find the quiet calm I seek
Filtered light enchants me
Gentle touch upon my cheek

In Neptune's arms I'm cradled
His watery realm so dark and deep
His subjects glide beside me
Safely I close my eyes and sleep

My  hair drifts with the tide
A seaweed curtain hides my face
Lost  in this my ocean dreams
Forever floating in this magical place

Mermaids and their siren songs
Pirate ships and sunken treasure
Fantasy and imaginations reign
Abandon me in dreamlike pleasure



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House of Dreams

If you meet me halfway,
I'll take you there,
by car, by plane, or by boat,
our place to share

It won't be a castle,
but a place to roam,
we'll build it together,
our place we'll call home

It will take lots of money,
and take sweat and tears,
but we can call it our own,
all throughout the years

We'll grow old in this place,
with our own loving style,
so build your house of dreams,
with me... for a while.


For "Dream a lil dream, for me" contest sponsored by Tracie ~*~ Indigo Dreamweaver


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THE TRAGEDY IS...

The tragedy is...
when one finds himself alone,
relying on dreams that die before they are being born;
seasons renew themselves, his hasty years can't otherwise!   



Love gently strokes with indelible joy the portrait of happy faces, 
and its colors blend in to immortalize those realistic images:
by placing roses in the hands of an elegant lady;
grant her lifetime' wish, love her with dignity! 
  
 

The tragedy is...
having a lot to say, but afraid to speak words,
all the while she awaited your approval of indecisive lover;
constantly checking the mail-box for another letter!



Showers of confetti swirling in the festive air so delusional...
is a parade of an urealized  thought to attract the trivial imagination,
see reality as it is:  earn trust by being more caring and lovable;
fulfill her needs, and she will satisfy yours with true intention!



The tragedy is...
most men wait for that opportunity to open up,
to reveal the sensitive side of the their fearful and silent heart;
and keeping affection from their women, can cost them much happiness!     


Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci


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What Dreams are Made Of

To your achromatic canvas
fresh without a mark upon it,
I'll paint a crimson road of chance
and a bright tangerine bonnet.

With detail, I'll add two young girls,
coffee-skinned lasses without cream,
made sweet by their long, dark tresses
and hopes for that bonnet, their dream.

Down the middle of this tableau
I'll trace a canal in cyan
which crosses the road - a stricture
twixt girls, the bonnet and their plan.

A well-bronzed boy and russet raft
I'll sketch to solve this small wrinkle.
Then I'll craft a second bonnet
hiding in some periwinkle.

While this image seems incomplete
in your mind's eye, with poet's brush
you will create a final scene
of flamboyance. No need to rush. 


written:  August 1, 2012


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Quadragenarious

Alluring are all these things in life in 
which one may become fond in 
adoring
Calling upon all to climb up on their 
own stage; free will regardless of 
the age
When it comes to receiving nothing 
in life grants you knowledge more 
than does reading
Engage in life to gain experience this 
sets up a phase, be your own sage

Those of you who can come to 
understand now is the time climb 
up out of the sand
Tuning into one’s own inner yang, 
requires one to hear the bells when 
the ring
Believing that you sit in his right 
hand one comes to realize that life 
is grand
It all depends on the choice of 
words which you cling they display 
the song you sing

The Creator always comes to your 
aide, no matter your individual 
grade
A clue to each and every perversion 
exist inside all culprits arson
The sound of the first grenade is the 
signal to the enemy; begin the raid
The soul is the intent to blacken in 
the words discharged by these evil 
dragons

In there attempt to acquire all 
things delicious they embrace the 
devious
If one does want to recognize their 
spin, all you have to is see how they 
grin
Why they stay so furious, their will 
belongs to all things they find 
desirous
Failing to see their despicable yin
leads all down the path of 
committing sin

There will be way far too few able to 
pay the bill on the last day it is due
After relentless tearing your soul 
will continue its everlasting searing
After you realize that there has been 
a coup you will not all be able to sue
Tortured and tormented you are 
now filet and sauteed burning 
without ending 


*****  For the "Word Game 
Contest" sponsored by Catie 
Lindsey****


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Angel of the Night

black sky chill runs to the bone
as I shudder from the pain
fitful sleep in bed alone
a face without a name

a vision soft in morning's light
the memory soon forsaken
the one I want to hold so tight
is gone when I awaken.


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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 >




http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/poetry-soup-6.php






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Air, Aligned

I wonder how many times a day
Our breathing patterns coincide,
As if my source of life, and yours,
Conspired to keep us both alive.


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Poetry Is Hope

Conquered you are by the world
your splendored infatuation of trust turns evil into virtue
the light you see is not true.
Wonder.


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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
P.S.

Also Entry For 
Brian Strand's
Poulter's Measure
GL All


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PARABLE OF ALL PARABLES

I, Oracle tool of eternal, placid in mental state. 
High-intellect mortal, dropping parables to educate. 
Special emotional properties, concepts of four elements. 
Fire; earth; wind; water, mind on matter transcendents. 

Fire akin to blood, therein lies real passion. 
Air present in yellow bile, links of wrathful emotion. 
Water manifest in phlegm, too much produce laziness. 
Earth found in black bile, associates of sadness. 

Telepathic capabilities, enhancement of perception. 
Supernatural abilities, sheer mind submission. 
Mixed cause and effect, experimental backward mask. 
Image shown to subject, tenth of a second the task. 

First picture displayed, ultrasensory perception. 
Second subliminal image, recalling jiffy forgotten. 
Utilize the enhanced, nothing but natural. 
Subconscious skill possessed, to absorb more subtle signal. 

Desire overriding reason, inner darkness of humanity. 
Nature and nurture function, sexually obsessed mentality. 
Attempts to explain marvels, visible through naked eyes. 
Ubiquitous superpower, shattering inquiring minds. 

Head and facial movements, most info' effective. 
Eminent emotions expressed, all but instinctive. 
Familial body language, few employ it consciously. 
Nonverbal communication, many exercise it subconsciously.


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I Love Facebook

I love to write on facebook.
Friends on there know I do.
I skip gaming distractions.
I chat with folks like you!

We post our pretty pictures.
And write our poems below.
Sometimes some friendly lectures
Can make our thinking grow.

No matter where a heart may lead,
Or where imagination travels,
Someone is there to share, indeed!
And trim our flaws and ravels.

A poet friend is a special friend.
His soul delves very deep.
Kindly words he will always lend.
Without complaint or peep!

God bless my friends around the world.
Each one brings me great joy.
It is with friends and love unfurled
That imagination whirls…oh boy!

So, thank you for your friendship.
Real world folks visit cyberspace.
Shining kindness without one blip!
Sharing their soul and their face.

© February 8, 2011
Dane Smith-Johnsen


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The destiny train

The world spins once more and I find my way
The sky is blue and the sun shines today.
Though I wish things could change they never may
Yet I seem to find comfort in the words that you say.

Life is like a train but you must get on board
The price of happiness you should still afford.
Sometimes when everything looks dark and bleak
 A couple of moments can feel like a week.

The train leaves the station there are many stops
You may see something better and just want to swap.
Further down the line you may just understand
That things happen and you do the best that you can.

It really doesn’t matter if you don’t know your course
You may want to consider, the suggestion and source.
Only you can decide what you feel is right
 Learn to ride the train from out of the night.

The journey feels long as you wonder why me
But the answer is inside of all the things that you see.
 You may not realize anything until it’s too late
This is your journey and with it your fate.

The train seems to stop like it’s the end of the line
I try to make a bargain to gain some more time
But just when you thought that you reached the end
The train starts back up and you’re moving again.


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Unthinkable

From this indeterminate point in the universe
These eyes roll in search for the bounds common on earth,
Find nothing but fiasco in its immenseness
And believe that the Omnipotent gave it birth.
 
If I counteracted the state of the vacuum
And fell astray in space to no sure direction,
Would there be ground to catch me, ad infinitum?
Could numbers manage to describe my position?

If energies could send this man light years away,
Passing by countless stars and galaxies,
From a distance where travel stops and I may stay,
Could space seem like a dust from these extremities?

If we were ignorant of nuclear fusion
And believers of the sameness of fire and stars,
Could the sun last in its celestial dominion
Only with fuel that turns to ash as it sparks?


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A FACEBOOK FANTASY

Hey honey,will you be mine
I've got the cutest chat-up line;
What you see is what you get,
Fly with me by private jet !

Vacation by the sunny Med'.
My wealth has Wall street cred'
Play your cards with great care,
And perhaps some day we'll wed!

I'll wine and dine you each day,
On Caribbean sands we'll play;
You'll shop in Harrods & Tiffany,
Money's no expense with me !

Your beauty so dazzles me,
It will make you  a celebrity;
Our love-match will be no dream,
I'll sell it to Hello magazine.


Inspired by Dr Ram's parody contest




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GARB



My nightmare returns as it always does,
Wearing a long, black sheath and formal gloves,
It bares taupe teeth then glares with onyx eyes,
Then every shade it so deftly denies.

The sky is no longer a shifting plain
where eventide dances with misty rain,
And lofty evergreens are green no more,
Violets of grey shroud each pale forest floor.

Rubies lose their reds, sapphires their blues,
And youth’s pretty blush dulls to sallow hues, 
A candle’s flame keeps not one hint of gold,
And a scarlet rose turns tarnished and old.

Van Gogh’s flowers bear the hues of concrete,
All mangos are pallid, tasting less sweet,
The bride’s lacy veil is now tinted stone,
A glass of rosé, a palette of bone.

Yes, my nightmare returns both day and night
since with your last breath you snuffed out my light,
Gone are the rainbows of our vibrant life,
I now wear the garb of a mourning wife. 


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THE DREARINESS OF THIS FRIGID SEASON

Goodbye Fall with all the auburn leaves of the reddest sunset,
goodbye crackling path where I met the last songbirds,
whose melody accompained me to winter's doors;
and with deep sadness I kept on looking back.


Welcome gloomy winter with short afternoons and long evenings;
watching the advancing shadows and loudly hearing
the furious sound of the squall rampaging the stately trees,
and making them weep when the icy rain comes down with lightining. 


Sitting in a rattling, rocking chair, I peruse through pages of sunny places afar,
forgetting the dreariness of this frigid season and be consoled by a warm fire;  
and still nostalgia abounds...thinking of the pleasant strolls of a past season,
which thrilled me with its colors, and through delight I justified my reason. 


O winter, don't linger as you always have...shorten your stay, avoid foul play; 
and could I ever stand a pale sun, hardly giving off with its luminiscence,
in this house hidden among the maples and the pines of a squalid valley?
Old winter, don't mislead me with days without snow...that's utter pretense!


Goodbye explorer fedora hat keeping my dreamer's head cool, 
sparing my skin another ugly wrinkle, allowing late beauty to rule;   
goodbye iced coffee sipped from my Big Apple plastic cup,
which I bought along Fifth Avenue in a crowded, variety shop. 


Ummerciful winter, pity the desperate state I am in,
reduce the wrath of your devastation, step inside and to tell me your amazing tales...
hoping that I will write them down for everyone to read and enjoy for immortal ages;
relentless winter, reduce the dreariness of this frigid season.


Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci


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Upon These Wings of Freedom

Upon these wings of freedom
Pain shall never harm the beauty of such
Full of the glowing strength of the mountains
And a mothers gentle touch.

Upon these wings of freedom
I leave behind my darkend past
Gliding towards my golden lane 
Of memories that will forever last.

Upon these wings of freedom
My laughter and smiles are soul deep
Never again to be pretending
Never again I will shout or weep.

Upon these wings of an angel,
Heaven has portrayed,
Every bone and every feather,
My true self was found and made.




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FANCY THAT

Ornament glosses the meaning
Metaphor displaces by dreaming
Emblems contain,then extend hereabout
So now,go figure it out.


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Man's A Poetry

Man's a poetry
throughout him and within him.
A limb of where he'll be
without him and begin him.

A poet's prophecy.
A life that is rescinding.
A prophets right to be.
A rule at ease for winning.


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pirated words

I stole this poem
with cutlass and eyes
words lusted and trusted 
so I took of this prize

it's chests of golden
it's flashing jeweled verbs
and left letters worthless
to be picked by the birds

sailing 'cross bleached pages
under azure blue skies
I stole of my own life
and took what implies

existence on dangerous sees
to the edge of the earth and
boarded keyboard south of the keys
taking every word of worth

pillaging the hapless literati
demanding chains and trinkets
relieving authors boasting haughty
of bootied lines me think it's

better to hold to bright sun 
to see glint in the daylight
some pirated pentameter outdone
without sword of pen to fight

so hang me dashed by a yardarm
an' tell lies of me glories
whilst takin' maidens in arm
regaling wild legended stories

but, me matey, ye'd better beware
of plagiarists fast on your tale
'cross oceans of notions they dare
pirate your own words to unveil

to their own laughing lasses and crew
drinking and toasting remembrance of you
what's a pirating plagiarist to do?
- but pirate a poem out of the blue

aaarrgh matey - 
        I'll be takin' them lines now...

© Goode Guy 2012-12-13


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tagged

young buck, half buck, maybe two buck duo
maybe troubled like infamous Dutch painter
maybe a whole gang'a bucks that you know 
shakin' cans for markin' their container

a mark of art - some meaty graffiti
you see it's in the eye of the beholder
some show as crass trash junkin' thinkin'
some show as true talent a bit bolder

tag lines, Graffito, in muraled center-city
socio-arterial politico feigned angry, witty
truth's not pristine, it's dirty and gritty
walled-up feelings sprayed out upon the city

been runnin' the rails since the rails converged
been runnin' in streets since ancient antiquity
been runnin' since peoples opinions diverged
been runnin' thoughout civilization's calligraphy

there's been ugly crap - there's been beauty
there's been lies lined up on concrete walls
there's been tags behind corner cops on duty
there's graffiti hanging in the MoMA art halls

ever'body's got som'thin' they wanna say
ever'body wants their ideas to have weight
ever'body really wants to have their own way
ever'body's clean-slatein' with urge to create

Bomb the wall with eight cans o' Rustoleum
like Jef Aérosol, Avoid pi, and Cha in Barcelona
Bomb it good t' let 'em know where you're from
picture your mind floatin' with that aérosol aroma

so, is it some peoples art of expression
or is it an eyesore with no merit to us
that conversation is a never-ending question
really depends on tags you put on it, I guess

© Dave Lego 2013-01-14

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Graffiti 
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/MoMA
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jef_A%C3%A9rosol
http://www.adamvoid.com/index.php?/archive/archive/
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cha_(artist)
http://www.smithsonianmag.com/arts-culture/aerosol-200802.html


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Between The Palms

Between the palms on soft warm sand recline
Eyes lightly closed;  beauty,  sound saturate
With your hand perfectly enclosed in mine
Sensory elements accelerate

Opening my eyes to gaze at the palms
Dark color that look like a peacock's feathers 
In full plummage while he struts very calm
Peaceful the scene almost like the heather

Of Scotland when in full bloom brings peace_calm
Beauty surrounds me now and enfolds me 
Into an inner world in time such balm
Pink cotton candy sky calls let life be

Carefree carefree just live your life carefree
As on island recline lost to all time
Carefree carefree live in total free glee
Ah! what life could be if this island mine


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Imagine a World

Imagine a world without suffering and pain.
Sorrows are washed away with the spring rain.
Once upon a time might seem much like a dream.
The things you once saw are not as they seem.

Imagine a world without conflict and war.
People are not rich but there are no poor.
Where we live with a shared common goal,
To learn just to feel what’s inside our soul.

Imagine a world just filled with love,
Sounds like a gift from heaven above.
All that you know you learn to understand,
Everyone reaches out and does the best they can.

Imagine a world where beauty shines through.
Understanding all along it is all up to you.
It may seem like this can never come true.
What you receive results from what you do.

Imagine a world with only just smiles.
The sky is blue and you see for miles.
The air that you breathe is crisp and clean.
I know that this sounds much like a dream.

Some say I’m a dreamer and I am just one.
You have to just dream for them to become.
Without inspiration how shall dreams come true?
Things can grow again where they once grew.


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elegy eulogy

and all the words congregated somber,
passing observations and glasses around,
and smoked 'em if they had 'em,
and looked woefully at the ground

mentioned how he was so good to them
that he never played any, for favorites
always a mensch, and very gentle too
they all agreed he was very literate 

some words got together in lines
with handkerchiefs and glistening eyes
slowly passing the paged remains
wished his epilogue another reprise

one said, how once he'd looked it up
after a very long absence of use
and prominently displayed its meaning,
written decisively, never misused

another of the first-person singular, 
well-known, of worldly feminine gender
said he'd given her existence a purpose 
and was someone she'd always remember

but now he's written his last retort
they've signed themselves into his book
to be given tearfully to the next-of-kin
and tucked WAY back in some closet or nook

'cause nobody much reads them anymore
no one wants to be made to recall 
that words live longer than their writers
after the author is done with his scrawl

© Goode Guy 2013-08-09

elegy: a mournful poem; a lament for the dead
eulogy: a formal expression of praise


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A RED SUNSET FOR A SPECIAL VALENTINE

I have painted a red sunset for a special valentine
on the largest and finest canvas known to  Mankind,
with happy visions of lovers sailing on a ship dazzled by light,
hoping that love will make their adventerous hearts bind! 


Come, sweetheart let's escape and dream,
where this rose-petals-covered sea may lead,
with your head resting on my shoulder, and my warm hands
hands spread across your fast-beating heart...to revive romance!  


I have honored the memory of this Cupid's day with sweet intent,
with something that will outlast beauty and time,
and without a signed name to identify its artist...
they will gess who he was and feel how intense was his desire!


Let's sit on the deck and watch the parade of the erogenous stars,
and each of them is a dream that will be revealed by fate as kisses
inflamed by passion, make love more intense and pleasurable...
nothing we'll be withheld, or left unsaid in these embraces so sentimental!  


I have painted a red sunset for a special Valentine,
for that one deserving recognition as a token of my endless gratitude;
and my dedication will unveil the scope of my amplitude...
cherish it, lover to remind you of someone whose love was too sublime!


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THE MANY IMAGES OF THE PALE MOON

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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Is Life But A Dream 2K11

Homosapiens therein a state of sleep;  
To truly rouse forth thereafter thier deaths?  
Shall Sheperd say... He trusts they'd well sleep?  
Life, a dream? They'll fathom post final breaths.


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Quick As A Wink

When looking at an empty page
And it seems that gone is the sage
Grab your camera and go for a walk
Be it morning, noon or dusk

In the morning look at the dew
See what is reflected and take a few
If at noon time and raindrops abound
See if there  are some on plants around

Be it at dusk when there is faint light
Catch shots of critters running out of sight'
When surrounded by dark and none's around
Use the flash and ghost may be found

That should fill a few pages by a sage
Down through the long, long ages
Keep in touch with pen and ink
Take those pictures quick as a wink


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THE MAN I WAS MADE TO BE!

My thoughts comes curiously, 
My lips speaks freely, 
My body's a temple holding guilt & worries, 
My eyes witness truth and my ears clearly hears.  

My hands help others, 
My feet will continue to walk futher, 
My sharp tounge prays daily, 
and my knees bow geniunely. 

My mind's always growing, 
so still now, my job's to keep showing, 
The man I was made to be,
God's radiance ever emitting out of me. 


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The Sordid Affair

There's money___then there's love
Looking back at him __desiring 
Brief encounters above
Husband's comments deriding

So handsome fire__home ice
Guilt, shame, remorse____desire
One last glimpse maybe twice
Marriage but children__can't transpire

Inner turmoil__wishing
Should I walk away now
Turn turn around running
We'll say the wedding's vow


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MUSE-MASTER!

I am the confidant of many, 
a healer of weary souls, 
they come to me with questions, 
and tales of their ample woes. 

I advise and console their broken,
and bleeding hearts, 
for I know how it feels,
to be ripped and utterly torn apart. 

What can one so humble as I;
I often conclude with query short and sweet; 
do for a true master-poet; 
who muses others as he speak?


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The Sum

The sum is much greater than just its parts.
More than a thought it grows in your heart.
I look at all these pieces that make up me.
When they join together, beauty you see.

I look across a field and see many trees.
Upon a closer look, grass and a river I see.
They all present beauty when they are apart.
But put together, they are a painting in my heart.

I look up and see the grandness of the sky.
My imagination grows wings like birds fly.
There also is the sun along with the clouds
When put together the picture it allows.

It all seems to change as I head toward night.
The sun explodes in colors, the sun still shining bright.
Darkness soon approaches the stars and moon in sight.
It paints a picture of peace and everything is alright.

As we journey through night it shall start over again
The sun greets the horizon much like a good old friend.
The light shines downward, revealing each and every part.
 When they join together, they are a painting in my heart.


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fin - debut

fin - début

what human has created, sapien can asunder
it's not ours to keep forever defaulted
through ignorance, avarice, prideful blunder
it's only some created civilization after all

the neighborhood won't deny our urban renewal
the neighbors probably thought for a long time
but might think us uncaring, unmeaning or cruel
yet wish we'd "keep it down", maybe return to slime

maybe the lease is up, no longer to be penned
maybe the sheriff is here with papers to serve
maybe we're really - finally, at our wits end
with all of our crap piled on the universal curb

we've predicted for a long time now
some coming of some long overdue end
with pillared salt, conflagrating fires and
the certain demise of you and me, my friend

yet maybe this new task that we've found
that we stumbled over, can start tomorrow -
and help to insure that we're still around
to work it out, and get new path to follow

we've been balled up on this ball of dirt
we've been petty, bickering, trifling asses
but maybe we've got another chance to avert
certain disaster and redeem all of our masses

the cliff, the match, the fingered button
can recede to our memory of too close calls
if we silence our forked tongues of gluttony
and open our minds to beyond our own walls

in the company of strangers
in the company of stars
in incorporated company
to reclaim what lost, can now be ours

© Goode Guy 2012-12-12


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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









http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/religion-or-not.php


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True Rain

Miniscule speckles of grey dust, 
Encased within wet prison, 
To us they look so beautiful, 
Those poor little trapped grey balls, 

Millions of them come each time, 
All fighting to become free, 
Their lives plummeting to the ground, 
But of this we do not see, 

They free fall hundreds of miles, 
They fall from heaven to earth, 
It's quite like a mass suicide, 
That was planned from their very birth, 

They have no choice of this sad death, 
It is what they were born to do, 
It's as if their whole purpose is, 
To become huge puddles of blue, 

We cannot control these deaths, 
But we can imagine their pain, 
So think of that next time you see, 
The beauty that we call rain.

Copyright Kayla Yovich 2007


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Into the fog

I awake today not knowing where to go
Destination unknown hope is all I know,
Fog so thick you can cut it with a knife
Today is the first day of the rest of my life.

I drive it’s like flying through a cloud
With broken wings flight is still allowed.
I can’t see where I’m going or where I’ve been
I don’t know where to start I simply begin.

Cars in front of me vanish like ghosts
Vanishing tail lights the direction they post.
I cannot see ten feet in front of my face
It’s like traveling through time and space.

After a while the sun shines through
Revealing a sky that is clear and blue.
It reminds me of journeys made through the night
From out of this blindness comes the dawn of light.

I finally arrive at my new destination
I seem to arrive within my calculation.
Into the fog and then out the other side
A journey towards vision is simply implied.


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How Will I Write

How Will I Write?

There is no limit to the ideas I have;
Too many, sometimes, in fact.
So I cannot say for certain how I
Will write or to this question react.

Perhaps I will gaze for a while at
The photos I have, here in my hand,
Until the images speak out to me;
And their hidden message understand.

If that does not work, then I will sleep
And in dreams my inspiration find;
For there is no limit to the ideas I have
Hidden deep within my mind.


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Aday in the Big Apple

I gaze upon the Statue of Liberty and think of what she stands for
To give shelter to the huddled masses and hope for the poor
I think we lost focus on what make this country great
I open my eyes before it becomes too late.

There are so many treasures in this city to find
I keep my eyes open so I don’t miss a sign
I start at The Empire State building to catch a view from the top
The view was so breath taking I felt my heart stop.

Down below everything looked so small
Except for the buildings, they were quite tall
You could see all the bridges that connected all the parts 
In the center is Manhattan much like the heart.

I go down to the ground and then I stop
The buildings scrape the sky you can’t see the top
The shadows they cast are larger than life
It’s hard to imagine they co- exist with the strife.

I walk to Central park one of my favorite places to be
Surrounded by skyscrapers the trees are like a green sea.
It’s so peaceful and quiet I find a rock on which to rest
I look up in a tree I see some birds in a nest.

Next stop is Strawberry Fields my favorite place
People are here from every country and from every race
Seems that peace and love are understood by all
The rich and the poor the big and the small.

I sit here and write as my inspirations rises
Surrounded by things of all shapes and sizes
Soon it will be time for me to go back home
But for now this feels like my comfort zone.

I see these opposite worlds living side by side
The peace in the park while the world rushes by outside
The contrasts reflect and by the pond I do stand
I seem to discover just who I am...


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The Culinary Asylum

I write this sitting in the kitchen sink
All my friends have left me behind.
I know not what I want or what I think
I have a dark and empty mind.

I fled to the outskirts of sanity
And I found I was not alone.
For I’m wont to be just a vanity
On the marbled desert we roam

How can one be sane in an insane world?
It’s much easier than you think.
Just remember that we can all be pearls
Our ever-changing world is pink.

So now I think this predicament is
Not as bizarre as it may seem.
And now I must wish you a good night miss.
Safe travels in this land of dreams.


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Monday morning

Three strikes on the snooze button
Then unwilling, still dark within,
I step out to stretch my stiff back
and you tell me - time to wake up.

This day I might return to bed;
Other days I will trudge to work.
But the self is the task today:
Verse, rest, reflection, dreaming on

These shards that dwell within my mind,
The unbuilt felt magnificence,
Looming over the central square
Announcing their will to be built.


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Who is Beloved?

Crush my handsome rooted respect of thing;
created by clandestine flame,
is the light
that some never fully let in.


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Poetry Man

Well I'm just a simple poetry man
With rhymes about joys of the heart
I live in this fantasy kingdom of words
I turn on the switch and it starts

Words and phrases come cascading out
Of love and of life's simple pleasures
I can't stop the flow I have no control
The joy that it brings is unmeasured

I'm new at this game of writing down words
That reflect my innermost feelings
My wish from the start is to touch every heart
And to raise every soul to the ceiling

Well I'm just a simple poetry man
With rhymes about life and my feelings
I see many people unhappy and sad
And I wish that my words could be healing


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THE DARK POET- A SPOOKY REVELATION

In my sleep they came jeering,
making awful noises...shaking my bed;
I couldn't either move or talk and hearing
them speak a weird language, I covered my head.


Many nights I dreamt of corpses in cold graves,
I was walking into that cemetery I used to visit;
dead people couldn't harm me I thought to myself,
little did I know they were evil spirits who could have.


They kept on coming in dark, frightful dreams,
they tied me down with ropes and laughed,
I screamed, but nobody head my screams;
mom and dad were in the next room, they chatted.


One stormy November night, before going to bed,
I put garlic cloves underneath the mattress,
and waited for them to come closer and snap;
my plan worked, they sniffed the garlic and left!


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As angels weep

The love was torn from my heart.
Took my soul ripped it apart. 
The skies grow dark the day is gray,
I see you turn and walk away.

I’m tired the answer that I seek
This day has felt like it was a week.
As I see the night sky glow.
I hope the way will start to show.

I’ve seen this darkness times before,
I thought it was my time to soar.
I feel as though my wings were clipped
I reach the top but then I slipped.

It always seems to end this way,
The words I’d rather not just say.
I’ll wake tomorrow another day,
I’ll find another place to play.

I close my eyes I need to dream. 
Things aren’t as bad as they seem.
Many have gone and have strayed, 
Wrapped inside decisions made.

I close my eyes I need some sleep,
I lay awake and count some sheep.
It seems I got in way too deep.
The rain does fall as angels weep.


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Meltdown in Iambic Tetrameter

I chose to fight and not to flee,
From troubled feelings haunting me.
One look, within my weary soul,
Exposed an ever-gaping hole.

With introspective ink I write,
To bring foreclosure to my plight.
On form and meter I rely,
While keeping free verse standing by.

In healing cadence, new to me.
(Stagnation came from living free.)
A new persona will be found,
Before I leave this form-go-round.

Through sonnets, nonets, villanelle,
My metered fears I hope to quell.
Shall I find comfort in these forms
Or run back to my free verse norms?

I might be seeking, after all,
The haven of a hallowed hall.
Long known to poets of great worth,
And find therein my own re-birth.


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My Honeysuckle moor

Honeysuckle is blooming does catch my eye                                                            Funny, trouble is I have never seen                                                                         Bunnies chuckle or cared how time flies                                                                    Sunny, cuddled all in green was everything                                                                       *                                                                                                                       Surprise is I never seen this before                                                                               arise curiosity I must find                                                                                       Uprises, trees of honeysuckle moor                                                                                  a prize to claim so I climb tree by vine                                                                 *                                                                                                                        Nesting a top this suckled strewn tree                                                                               Jesting to myself I’m in a crow’s nest                                                                          resting in moments of the wondrously                                                                     Testing imaginations that lie in the breast                                                            *                                                                                                                        Fortune finds place’s Express my garden                                                                           Horton hears a who hatching an egg                                                                               Horsemen unscrambling a heart hardened                                                                         Warden you’ll never find but I beg * --                                                                           A Lento poem


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SURRENDER TO FANTASY!

Urgency in my voice breathing 
faster as our arousal is peaked.. 
run away or give in, the choice... 
let's surrender to our private fantasy 

Fire felt through the sounds we release 
our forbidden parts respond 
skin moistened as our motions increase 
let's surrender to our private fantasy 

I'm breathless, fire's spreading from head to toe 
extinquish me, our fire will douse these flames 
whisper the desires you long fo' 
surrender to me, my private fantasy 

passionate positioning, at your request 
where do you want me to be 
above or below, a sexual quest 
surrender to me, my private fantasy 

a rider i am, so the thought turns me on quick 
as your hands grab my chest 
hurry up...finish, which position to pick 
surrender to me before our fantasy becomes reality


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Aliens



They say that aliens once visited the earth There's evidence that's been uncovered Don't know about you but I'm starting to think That one day it will soon be discovered That we were preceded by superior beings Capable of travelling telepathically Not restricted by our earth like limitations Looking forward to meeting them anxiously No question it will be a momentous occasion In the annals of all human kind To actually meet beings from beyond the stars Is surely going to blow our minds How will they look, will they talk like us Reproduce in our time honoured way Or will their offsprings be genetically engineered Our way's more appealing I'd say Better get here soon as time's running out Sure don't wanna miss their arrival At the front of the line I'll be proudly standing Might be the answer to our survival © Jack Ellison 2013


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The Dance of the Dreams

When dreams dance,
A perfect world is created.
All are elated
Depression's negated


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DEEP POETRY and REALITY



Deep poetry has its own reality Instrumental in setting the mind free From the confinement of this mundane world Transporting us to wondrous realms untold It is manifested in Blake's poetry Which uplifts the mind and sets it free A heaven is seen in a wildflower Eternity is viewed in an hour Khayyam's moving finger writes on time's wall Once written, there's no erasing at all Rumi's beloved is a different kind A manifestation of the divine With Shelley's skylark and Keats nightingale The music of their birdsong tells the tale A world beyond what we normally see The world of deep poetry's reality
REFERENCES: 1) Auguries of Innocence - William Blake To see a World in a Grain of Sand And a Heaven in a Wild Flower, Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand And Eternity in an hour. 2) The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam - Omar Khayyam The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ, Moves on: nor all thy Piety nor Wit Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line, Nor all thy Tears wash out a Word of it. 3) Oh Beloved - Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi Oh Beloved, take me. Liberate my soul. Fill me with your love and release me from the two worlds. If I set my heart on anything but you let fire burn me from inside. Oh Beloved, take away what I want. Take away what I do. Take away what I need. Take away everything that takes me from you. 4) To a Skylark - Percy Byshe Shelley 5) Ode to a Nightingale - John Keats The above-stated poems reflect the world of deep poetry reality that I have mentioned.


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Kiss

Swimming deep in the ease inside my bed-
I sift through dreams that drift inside my head-
And kiss the storm that's deep inside my core-
where dancing in the rain is not a metaphor.

Slept through love, and slept through it's collage-
turns out what was real, was a mirage-
And kiss the pain that's deep inside my core-
because where there was a Miss, there is no more.


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Pencil Me IN

It's easy to write a dark saga
of midnight and wolfbain and you
It follows to throw in a campfire
in the winter, the cold and we two

Forsaken this landscape I'm painting
twisted like limbs of the trees,
Haunted ,the mansion is waiting
the trembling begins in our knees,

Tell us to head for the highway,
tell us to hitch hike to town,
Ah, but we will have it my way,
I'm writing this horror all down.

I'm sending you straight to the castle,
You're knocking right now on the door
It's answered by some lowly vassal
who says we may call him Igor.

He pulls us in out of the weather,
he lurches away to the right,
we huddle for safety together,
afraid of what may come in sight.

Insanely the laughter surrounds us,
but you're getting tired of the game,
I shriek that the vampire has found us,
but you knock him down with your cane.

"Now stop this and write our vacation!
Away to that new Pirate Bay.
Get us out of this bad situation,
or I'll have the Count make you stay."

So I pencil plans for Orlando,
while erasing the fiend and the slave,
Why must you go so Commando?..........
(Watch your step over Dracula's grave.)


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Monsters are Real

When darkness falls upon us
After the sun has fled,
The Monster comes a-hunting;
Its hunger must be fed.

It stalks you from the darkness
It lurks beneath your bed
It hides inside your closet and
It is the thing you dread

You may think it's just a sweater
Or your jacket blue and red
You hope the monster isn't real
And just bad dreams instead.

But you can't make it leave you
Despite what Mother said;
Monsters are really real and
They live inside your head.


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The River Flow

Sitting at the table
Pensive, her pen in her mouth
Her mind searching a fable
To express her thoughts.

Scattered around her world
Sometimes so fruitful and bright
And sometimes so barren
The thinning waters going dry.

Her river runs to the edge
Pouring out like a cascade
Over a sharp, rocky ledge
Speeding down a mountain's facade.

Excited to reach out far
Watering others' worlds
With her sanctified nectar
Quenching parched berths.

Yet at times the river recedes
And the cascade is no more
No moisture fills the air sweet
Just a silent prayer that implores.

Wishing to quieten the voices
Objecting to her taking a rest
Hiding away from the forces
That eat at her raspy chest.

And then the Master enters
The scene and intervenes
In His own special manner
And the rains fall over her spleen.

Sitting, thoughtful, at her table
Her mind receives moisture
Puts her pen upon the paper
And writes of a new adventure.

By CarolineCecile
Copyright © 03.22.10


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like wildfire

like gossip, love's epidemiology
causal, a vector rampant spreading
has another uncontrolled physiology
a loving caring directional heading

love can't grow in a Petri dish
unless you're an amoeba or other cell
if agape's agar to feed, would wish
then i'd suppose it could, as well

diseased with affection and devotion
the prognosis a fortunate telling
incurable in time, your love's emotion
opportunistic transmission compelling

we could seclude with quarantine
but why would we want to isolate
and keep inside of what i mean
an infective germ so obviously great

to catch a love disease, not so good
on some picnic blanket by river of love
as catching love to be, could, would
with your desire of desires, free of

animosity for all of sentient beings
to less thinking with other leanings
hard to be unaffected when all around
everyone, everything is happily bound

one to another and each bound to all
devotedly catching incurable contagion
laughing 'til crying and having a ball
loving each other, and all civilization

what a lovely way we could live life
if we could forgive and forget our ire
without avarice, worry, or greedy strife
just let the love spread like wildfire

© Goode Guy 2011-06-21

http://lyrics.wikia.com/The_Paul_Butterfield_Blues_Band:Love_Disease
http://www.naturalnews.com/010825_counterthink_drug_racket.html
http://tierneylab.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/01/12/love-vaccine/ 

hit me with your best shot... ;-)


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Falotzing In Greebert

There is a place beyond the clouds,
Greebert is its name;
Fun in that place grows on trees
And all of life's a game.
 
The people there are always young,
And no one ever dies;
And time in Greebert seems to stop,
Even though it flies.
 
Anything is possible there,
That land where Happy rules;
A perfect, peaceful getaway
For all us nutty fools.
 
The trip is free from here to there,
It isn't hard to find;
Imagination's all you need,
Cause Greebert's in your mind.
 
So go falotzing any time
You're always welcome there.
The place where all your dreams come true
And magic's in the air.


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Two Birds, Two Eyes

I saw two birds on a page; two eyes,
Away from the Sun, their wings spread wide.
Chasing miles home in the black winter skies,
One hundred and fifty, as any crow flies.


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botany

I once knew two sisters
aptly named Flora and Fauna
I coulda loved them both
for sure I was a goner

Flora was a flowery lass
pretty Fauna was easy to envy
both sisters planted kisses
on cheeks so warm and friendly

Fauna could change chromatically 
instantly from green to red
emotions turned emphatically
joy morphed to anger instead

Flora bright-colored and perfumed
smelled wondrous and made me hot
she'd float in and brighten any room
while Fauna could definitely not

animal instincts gave way you see
though both sisters lovely when bare
Fauna tasted a bit green to me 
Flora blossomed her flower to share

© Goode Guy 2011-09-08


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My World

If the globe on which I live
Were naught but brilliant sun
The small acts done in silent ways
Would seem like they were none

But if the wide, majestic world
Were dark as moonless night
A tiny deed would shine as though
It were the greatest light.


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Temple and Time (5)

Once, the centuries ago,
Far away in distant lands
Where winds for all time blow,
Temple stood in swirling sands.

Rites of magick mighty sages
Carried out in its halls,
Turning ancient parchment pages
Inside temple stone walls.

Daemons served the wizards there,
Greater spirits of the past.
They could tell to all who care
Things, for ages gone and passed.

Once high risen in the air,
Now deep in sea asleep,
Shades of abyss only dare
Through the halls of temple creep.

Neither wisdom priests did know,
Nor the many spells and charms
Could save temple from the glow
Of the fate’s destroying arms.

Wizards did become too proud
With a power they had –
They at last away threw shroud
Hiding things that can drive mad…

Once worshipped and then forgotten,
Is not that a course of things?
Flourished was what’s now rotten,
All abandoned – realms and kings.

Likewise temples, no matter
How great or how high,
Even those gods can’t shatter,
All are going to die.

Time is only lord that master
Every single thing on earth;
Sometimes slow, sometimes faster
It does kill – to give new birth.


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My Seat By The Sea

It is my most special place on earth 
and no one knows that but me
Who knows where this log has been 
before it washed in from the sea

Did it rest of the shores of Alaska 
or drift down from the Caspian Sea
Has someone else sat on it and wondered, 
has it crossed the ocean just for me

I drag my toes through the sun-warmed sand 
and watch baby crabs scamper over my feet
I'm daydreaming and yet I'm so curious 
how I've come to nature's window seat

I think of my most treasured memories, 
and of things that have ever made me cry
I wonder who else has sat on this log 
and thought how life is passing them by

The smell of the ocean's salty water 
and the blissful calm of the warm sun today
makes me remember a time oh so long ago 
when our family often came here to play

I'm so sad but I know just how lucky I am 
to have this special and wonderful memory
There's not a better place to come and think 
than this weathered old seat by the sea


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Midnight Pearl

The moon had risen;
 The earth was aglow,
And I saw all of this from 
My bedroom window.
I thought to myself 
That a wing had unfurled,
Transforming the planet
Into a new world.

Such a marv'lous change 
Was wondrous to see,
'Twas if the dry land 
Had been changed to a sea,
And the moon looked down 
From the clouds a'swirl
Glittering silver 
Like a midnight pearl.

Tara Andre
Midnight Pearl
June 06 2012


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The Antique's Value

A dealer of sorts, in the finest antiques,
Sir Reginald of York, was his name.
By chance, he encountered a sale on one day
that brought him closer to fame.
For upon a table, all tarnished and worn,
laid there, but everyone passed by,
It was something of value, or so he thought,
as he saw it from the corner of his eye.
He ventured to ask the tradesman its worth
and he just stated, “two quid.”
Reginald, the bargaining man that he was
knew it was more, yes, he did.
He paid off the tradesman and went on his way,
eager to examine his find.
The entire ride back to his home on that day
was with riches that flowed through his mind.
So, there Reginald sat cleaning this find
now able to read an inscription,
“All those that will use this to attain power and gold
will be dealt an evil infliction”.
A curse, so he thought, was a lot of baloo
and he wasn’t worried this day.
He just went on cleaning and determining worth
that anyone would be likely to pay.
Upon then, completion, it turned out a grail
that he had found on that table.
He, with dollar signs still in his eyes
completely forgot of the label.
So, out went the cup, placed in plain view
with a price tag, too high, to say.
Though, he proudly stood, awaiting the time
that someone would come by to pay.
He waited and waited and waited again, still,
for twenty five years and a day.
Upon breathing his last breath on that very last day
he knew, his life, for the cup, he did pay.
Reflecting too fast, on that fateful day
when finding the cup upon the table,
he realized just then, that the price he’d pay
was written on that very label.


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DIURNAL DIVERSITY

The warm spring rain still falls on the cherry trees,
pelting on the sodden and drooping *lavender lilies...
forming a small lake, where playful robins
bathe and fend off the thrusting, thirsty shrikes.


Soon children will come out and act dippy...
chased by wild puppies and mousy kitties
fighting over their stuffed, torn bears;
oh, there goes my peace and *tranquility!  


The *fragrant lilacs are in dire need of growth and color,
lately they haven't soaked up enough sun and raindrops:
tingeing them, allowing them to revel in their *splendor;
never denying lovers the *dulcet tones of their voices.


The tranquil skies conjure up a past *bliss,
can a poet's unrhymed words, emitted in a *whisper, go on *lilting?
He will delightfully inhale the strong perfume of the breeze *wafting!
And will he create verses with *eloquence?


Entered in Andrea Dietrich's contest,
Word Warrior Challenge: Beautiful Words


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Design

Allow time
to let thoughts unwind
inside your mind
in design.


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I touch the sky

                  

Thoughts float through my head like clouds
They block the sun, the rays they shroud.
I drift to a place where dreams come true
Only to realize that they are what you do.

My life seems like this paper cup
I look for things to fill it up.
But in the bottom there is a hole
I put things in and watch them go.

My words become a river that flows
It starts to rain and the level grows.
I stumble over the rocks and sand
Before too long, at the sea I am.

My hope is like the tallest tree
I reach the top and I can see.
That down below the world is small
I just hold on so I won’t fall.

I watch the sunset the day goes by
With my hope I touch the sky.
The light grows dim as it gets dark
The stars spark something in my heart.

Dreams arrive but not too soon
I stand out in the winter moon.
The wind picks up it gets cold.
The cold reaches in and grabs my soul.

I lay my head down to go to sleep
My eyes won’t close, I count some sheep.
Silence comes as my mind does rest. 
I think I gave this day my best…


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WINGLESS FLIGHT

WINGLESS    FLIGHT



As the stars turn about the Pole
Bringing Bear and Dragon into view,
My eyes stretch into this black hole
Which holds the celestial zoo,


To try to catch the flying tales
Of Peacock, Swan, or Eagle,
And every creature which prevails
Amid the blackness cold and regal.


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Spirit of West

Way down South
Where tumbleweeds roam
Sagebrush-filled plains
Are where I call home.

It's pretty dry,
And it's pretty hot,
But that's where I live
And that's all I've got.

I'm tough as a snake,
And I'm thin as a rail,
I run like a horse,
I blaze my own trail.

Defeating the odds 
Is what I like best;
I'm all rough-and-tumble:
The Spirit of West.


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AN EXTRAORDINARY DREAMER

Since childhood my vivid and alluring aspirations
painted my rainbows with different colors,
not the ones I was after and truly adored...
who has ever heard of a teenager being bored?



Anytime I saw a train leave the station with its smooth rhythm,
I wanted to be that conductor who could never fall asleep,
and at every stop he would look carefully before closing the doors...
then, laid-back, watch the changing landscape and whistle his tunes!



If imagination had not been there to tackle my reflective tendencies
that were, indeed, rooted in all aspects of the present wilderness,
I wouldn't have cultivated this passion and turn it into a realistic dream...
which allowed inspiration to enter the subconsciousness of this thinker's realm!    



The fast-paced postman delivering mail to mailboxes seldom locked, thrilled me;
he looked so sharp and handsome greeting folks, and it would have been an honor
to chat with them, listening to their suggestions and helping them thoroughly...
I visualized myself as such, and even practiced it daily in front of large mirror!



If tons of ideas hadn't fed the urge to jot down details with ebullient imagery,
unless I wasn't aware of their poignant meaning and powerful message,
I wouldn't have let fantasy create an extraordinary dreamer out of someone so ordinary...
to adorn dullness with my cheerfulness and change winter to spring!
 


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Kushinigar

under the Sal tree
lies a meditation unambitious
a certain implausibility
of death and life and all auspicious

am i disciple - or more - or less
the mind thirsts a life to slake
proceeding forward - or to regress
then sleep and mindfully be awake

© Goode Guy 2013-07-24


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THE PHARAOH'S SCARABE NECKLACE

I was trudging with deep thirst amid scorching sand dunes,
when suddenly the desert wind
hurled me against an ancient tomb;
and as the swivel door swiftly opened, my fear increased.


What was this mysterious, mystic place...
beneath one of the Great Pyramids
embellished by massive sphinxes? 
Why did the Egyptians believe in after-life?


Scary mummies in long, beautiful 
hand-painted sarcophaguses appeared,
and the foul smell induced more dread 
than an imminent vomit...I screamed!


And into that labyrinth of adorned walls,
I couldn't find an exit...painted faces 
and sacrificial eyes hunted me all the while...
was I going to be their next victim?


I heard chariots wheels screech...
they were coming for me, I panicked,
a pang pierced my chest encroached by hands...
and glancing at those mystical frescoes, I fled!


And running faster than a tiger, trying to catch my heavy breath,
I collapsed into the coldest corner crying out,"God, please help me!"....
No human voice echoed but mine in the hallways of the Pyramid;  
how would I have been been able to combat anxiety, fear or even death?


I found myself by the tomb of Tutankhamun's,
he didn't seem dead, but vividly alive and well...
and he kindly smiled, handing me his scarabe necklace...
saying, "Take it and end the curse of the robbers!" 


Why didn't he punish me for disturbing his peace?
Sudden death could have been experienced by me!
What ever happened to the Anubis guarding his tomb
and treasury? Did the Pharaoh send it away to warn me?


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Shadows

Evil-silhouetted images,
Dancing and Prancing in the Darkness...
Please tell me, am I dreaming,
Of these, Marionette Demons???

written: 04-06-1997 OCJ


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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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New Orleans

Traveling toward the humming,
 his face a model's double; 
the pulse in my throat throbbing
drawn to the invisible;

I hear his melody 
creating chills through my bones,
Sending me serenity
Through my lips escapes a moan;

The fangs start the seduction
a city I've never seen, 
His voice is my destruction 
On the road to New Orleans.


**Poems from the Vampire** 11/21/13


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Adventures in Literature

I wish I lived in middle earth,
With wizards and hobbits and elves.
Just give me a sword and a quest to fulfill,
Like the heroes in the books on my shelves.

I wish I had a dragon to slay,
A hideous fire-breathing beast.
Or a princess to save from an odious fiend,
Or a tall ship to sail nor’ by nor’ east.

I wish I had a battle to fight,
With archers and pikemen and knights.
Or be a sultan with a harem of shapely young maids,
In a garden of earthly delights.

I wish I had a magical lamp,
Or a walnut that would turn things to gold.
Or live in a castle with portcullis and moat,
In a kingdom a thousand years old.

I wish I had a windmill to tilt,
Or a brave army of champions to lead.
But alas modern life affords nothing like this,
So I curl up with a good book and read.

(20 lines)

© Copyright 2012 J.A. Stevens


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EVEN BEFORE WE WERE CREATED

It was there mysteriously hanging, as He 
shaped it in a perfect form as other planets...
the Romans called it Luna, and what a revered goddess was she!
Superstious souls still fear it, I stare at it with reverence!


Even before we were created,
that moon, which illuminated our dark Earth,
was believed to have mystical powers...
causing high tides and frightening all voyagers.


Luna, as magnificent as you are on a clear night,
by morning your glory will completely vanish,
and you will return with the shadows and by that bright
glow, we shouldn't be afraid but make a vivid wish.


Even before we were created,
those moonbeams softly caressed the lonely oceans...
when no human beings were sighted;
and she, the goddess Luna, ruled over eerie darkness. 
  


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Higgs

the god particle concedes to a universal mass
as predictably, it announces its presence
taking the holy sacrament from under its glass
beliefs from before so consigned obsolescence

we now think we know - no...really, we do
how the universe came to exist, massively being
galaxies of stars, unseen dark matters, us too
giving God a reason to give our lives meaning 

photons and gluons of stuff are Peter's principals
bosons innumerable occupy the same quantum stated
the best minds wraparound said concept so quizzical
but not before a big bang began branches bifurcated

bosons like fermions those particles elementary
that come into existence and are gone in a blink
transcendental though we may think they seem to be
harder to transcend than at last we might think

what are we to learn of ourselves from this tidbit
of long sought actual theoretical enlightenment
can we care more for each other just a tiny bit?
and concede happily to life's common wonderment

let us learn with concern what CERN can discern
about all the quirks and quarks of this universe
give mankind a good reason to give out a good turn
and make our corner a bit better than the subverse

add Lederman, the goddamn particle's indefinite article
"so central to the state of physics today, yet so elusive" *
is like the first time you borrowed your Dad's vehicle
for a ride with your squeeze to amour more conducive

you wanted get down to the real heart of the matter
and experience the unknown pleasures of knowing
your delving into places and matters that matter
the whole experience just drives you to keep going

© Goode Guy 2012-07-05

* http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Higgs_boson#.22God_particle.22

http://www.npr.org/2012/07/04/156248281/new-subatomic-particle-may-be-physics-missing-link  
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Higgs_boson 
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Peter_Higgs 
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/CERN


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I am able to fly

As I soar to new heights my feet touch the ground,
I dream of the sky yet it’s to earth I am bound’
I feel like some pieces of the puzzle have been found,
I’m glad to see you here and you still are around.

I venture into the world yet they can’t see me,
All of the potential I have and what I shall be.
I open up my heart and then I feel free,
With love I can see all I can be.

People just smile yet they don’t understand.
I can’t find the words to tell who I am.
The word flow freely as I make a stand,
I feel like I come from some far away land.

The time is before me as I see what I want.
My needs no longer have a reason to haunt.
I know what I do but can guess at the rest.
I still have some time to clean up the mess.

Everything joins together as I start to believe.
This is my place so there’s no need to leave.
I wish that the answers were clearer to me,
With hope in my heart I guess I shall see.

I see this transition from darkness to light,
I dance in the moon light and soak up the night.
I have so much hope it is as big as the sky,
I just spread my wings and I’m able to fly.


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olfactive dream

i may not be a mindful savant
but when i close my eyes, 
i can smell fresh croissants
my mind in golden flaking surprise

i'm not French or raised in Paris
my cuisine tends toward the plain
eyes open again, i'm a bit embarrassed
the sensation i'm puzzling to explain

i close them again, feel sun on my lids
warmish winter wash on a cold winter day
slowly inhale scents of biscuits & grits
chance childhood memory from decades away

i blink quickly retreating to maturity
and red-hot iron stove cools into past
yet i want this dream to come back to me
so i close my eyes and attempt a recast

nostrils flanged i tentatively inhale
search oblique, a blind man without cane
aware now of cinnamon sticks and ginger ale
unaware from what memory, this reality came

but the scent is strong and sense of being
is both strong and impossible to place
is this a reminisce of past event agreeing
to return, for my mind to embrace 

did i meet someone while holding a drink
did unconscious tuck away some Christmas scents
does it now return within eyes-mind unblinked
does my id tap my ego with aromatic presents

immediacy and fulfillment are juxtaposed
total sensation of my experience complete
i hear nothing, see naught, with eyes closed
dreaming reality scents just waft in my nose

© Goode Guy 2014-01-31


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Writers And Poets

Writers and poets are a different breed
They live and breathe phrases and concepts
Awash with all manner of clever speech
At engaging the reader, they're adept

They invite you on travels to distant lands
To discover strange customs and beliefs
To experience a whole new world apart
The Rain Forests, The Great Barrier Reef

Through the eyes of these intrepid travellers
We witness different morals and rituals
Experiences people wouldn't normally view
Many of which, are sacred and spiritual

Imagine if we didn't have these literary giants
To warn us of the mistakes of the past
The Great Depression, the two World Wars
How great nations through history never last

Writers and poets are a different breed
They focus on the ethereal side of being
Flying high above the horizons
In a world of unknown and unseeing


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DREAM HOME

DREAM    HOME

Our  home will be of  stone from the mountain
And wood from  forest  cedars, hand hewn,
With a fireplace large against winter’s domain,
And a concertina in the evening playing a tune. 

An acre of soil I’ll clear with  my strong hand, 
For  the turned earth will feed  us  well;
And in our small  boat  we’ll  cross our river and
Follow its flow to the sea waves and swell.

As the sunlight  sifts down through the trees
Brushing them all with dust of gold,
We will be  caressed  by a  soft breeze
Which the garden will welcome  to its fold.

Just  listen  -  as the clock measures and chimes
Our delighted years of prosperity golden ! 
This  home will stand for the length of our lifetimes,
For the lives of our children - and then for their children.

. . . .  . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

NOTE

Inspired  by a beautiful folk song from Canada  called  “Perhaps in a Shadow”


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bang it hit me

the big bang I'm told was the perfect place
for the universe to begin to save its face
and blast away false fascias and chaos
to show to its master, who was the boss

yet all flew apart in accelerated directions
and things went awry in a beautious way
tangentally curving in arced circumspection
galaxies spewed forth to a timeless decay

then life set about to see our sun winking
later sapiens emerged and soon began thinking
very deep thoughts, as deep as they'd muster
of quarks, black holes and far-off star clusters

in passing, I was able to conscript serendipity
from times distant of our space-time continuum 
to pull an idea from that ancient antiquity
that others might be in this universal aquarium

in some cosmic queue, as thinking matters stew
in their large heads, if they even have some
they wonder about us, who we are, what we do
whether we're intelligent or merely pond scum

now when i sit in some colossal traffic jam
irritated and annoyed at the world, I am
reminded of that other, somewhere out there,
and I smile a bit and think of their welfare

© Goode Guy 2011-12-01

Better pull over before it overheats...

or 

"We're all in this, alone" - Lily Tomlin


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Saturday night Enterprise

Saturday here on the holodeck
Jiminy Cricket dances around
to keep baser instincts in check
theoretical ethical dilemmas abound.

The holodeck is like dream time
capable of desires and fantasies
events both horrifying and sublime
played out, life across the galaxies.

An actor on a stage of possibility
can play the part of hero or villain
dastardly or the epitome of civility
darker motifs behind curtain hidden.

Which, to be or not to be, selected
choose, and get into character to portray.
Is the actor the character, or unaffected
by the actions of the part that he plays?

Is it harmless release to play it "bad"
and too, is it no value to play the "good".
Was Hamlet's character really raving mad,
or the sheriff far worse than Robin Hood?

All the world's a stage, us merely players
might go beyond the cornered universe
to philosophers, hucksters, soothsayers
all who purport good to bad and obverse.

The doors to the holodeck close "shwoosh"
and our man by the door gives a nod
tonight's experience might be an ambush
or tomorrow's wizened connecting rod.

Life's lyrics still sing melodious tunes
for singers, actors, and audience to decide
Jiminy with umbrella and hat, so croons
"Always Let Your Conscience Be Your Guide."

© Goode Guy 2011-06-08

tweeeeeeeeeeet...all hands report to the holodeck!


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Country Court (Adult Humor)

The judge had slammed his gavel
To quiet the noisy crowd
For when the man had risen
The room got way too loud
The sentence must be handed
To satisfy the crime
So now the man is fated
To give ten years of time
It seems the pig he’d stolen
Belonged ole Deke Brown
He is the biggest drunk
In this God forsaken town
Deke Brown in fact was married
For twenty years this day
But forgot to get a present
For his mind had slipped away
See, now his wife is ornery
And wants someone to pay
So the man who stole the pig
Will soon now rue the day
His punishment is ten years
Yet, not in jail, do tell
He must now do her bidding
Looks like ten years now in hell
For Ole Ms Brown’s a biggun
And has her own pig ways
She just ain’t that particular
Of the men with whom she lays
So now this suffering convict
Was doomed as verdict read
For truth be known, the pig he stole
Was the one who shared her bed
His ten years now of prison
Starts on the day the Browns wed
While Mr Brown gets drunk again
The convict’s there in bed


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The words in my head

Sometimes I think I was born with pen in hand.
Words flow freely defining all that I am.
I don’t always know but can understand.
Words carry me off to a far away land.

I sit down to write it makes me feel whole.
Bringing needed light to a once darkened soul.
The words become like fish inside a bowl.
They swim in circles with nowhere to go.

I hope I can help I don’t mean any harm.
The words I say become part of my charm.
Some are quite scary, causing people alarm.
Other times they are tools with which I arm.

I cannot stop the voices in my head.
So I close my eyes and go to bed.
Thoughts are the meat, words the bread.
They determine the path on which I tread.

Words create some comfort when I feel alone.
Making me try things outside my comfort zone.
When I hurt and the ache goes to the bone
The words in my heart find me a home.


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Dreamscape

It wasn’t till sleep's midnight
that I heard the down-pouring 
of day fade-away, only
to give-in to a gospel of rain.

Struggling to re-live folk tales, 
mortal owl and pot of porridge.
“If you can see what fills you up,
you can drink from Nature’s cup.”

Looking over the edge of earth,
listening to the waterfalls.
Watching the lost ships fall-off
and asking if I should give-in.

And there, just outside of Spring,
two pink rose buds opening.
As a slivered moon sings,” Winter
has not turned-over His reign.”





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Brain Farts

Here I sit, the screen is blank
Nothing is coming to mind
I search and search my tiny brain
For a theme of any kind

Nothing doing, my brain is numb
It's happened to me before
When it does I panic and sweat
I pace up and down the floor

Wait a minute something's coming
A brain fart is on it's way
I know the feeling all too well
It's cataclysmic, I'd have to say

I frantically type as verses flow
Don't stop me I'm in the zone
It's a weird creative frenzy I'm in
My brain is not my own

As words begin to fill the screen
Can't believe just what I see
A poem appears just like magic
And it's signed by little old me

Now tell me how this happens
This brain fart phenomenon
I wish I could get control of it
It's appears and then it's gone!

©Jack Ellison 2012


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Dreams of flight


I dreamed I was a bird and could fly through the sky.
As I soar through the clouds and watch them pass by.
The world below seems small when viewed from above.
All the sights I take in become all the things I love.

My home would be a nest tucked in the top of a tree.
If anyone was to come I’m sure that I would see.
I’d gather up sticks and make it feel like home.
With the memories in my heart I shall never be alone.

I try to imagine what it would be like to fly.
To glide with the wind and just grace the sky.
I’d think to myself, there’s no one luckier than I.
I’d fly into the sunset as the daylight passes by.

I’d sing my little song so everyone could hear.
Becoming my words that I would hold quite dear.
I think that I would reach out to all the other birds
To come join in my song, a harmony of words.

I wouldn’t have a worry I could find all that I need.
When I felt hunger on a worm or bug I’d feed.
I’d fly down south when the winter winds would blow,
Where I would be going my instincts would just know.

Suddenly I wake up and I’m lying in my bed.
I still have the vision of birds in my head.
Perhaps I cannot fly but maybe I can soar?
Thing I shall receive, shall be placed at my door.

I realize the dream and hope one day to fly.
Maybe the source of flight is outside the sky.
As I seem to find new purpose in all that I try,
I feel I need not worry, no one is luckier than I.


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what was meant

to start, eviscerating her muse
cut her up and analyze her
throw her heart into tea leaves
meat her mind and so dissect her

her depth is unfathomable
enigmatic as an ancient nation
was she down in the consumables
drinking deep the Muses libation

entrails lain out in between
what came into her head
what she inspires, what she means
how good is she in bed

what was meant of point of view
each to glean from field of meaning
seeds of inspiration equal to
what was meant and what was seeming

---

to start, eviscerating his muse
cut him up and analyze him
throw his heart into tea leaves
meat his mind and so dissect him

his depth is unfathomable
enigmatic as an ancient nation
was he down in the consumables
drinking deep the Muses libation

entrails lain out in between
what came into his head
what he inspires, what he means
how good is he in bed

what was meant of point of view
each to glean from field of meaning
seeds of inspiration equal to
what was meant and what was seeming


© Goode Guy 2011-10-03


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Be Exorcised

You’re not good for me
You’ve just got to go
You’ve brought me nothing....
Nothing but sorrow!

You’ve sapped all my strength
You’ve tortured my heart
You’ve crushed my spirit
You MUST now depart!

You’ve splintered my wings
You’ve wrung my soul dry
You’ve fed me mind’s beasts
You’ve made your girl cry

I’ve tried those potions
I’ve tried the fake priests
I’ve followed the rules
I’ve had sacred feasts

What else can I do?
What chant can I pray?
To exorcise you
There just seems no way!

You’ve made your own home
So deep in my head
I’m obsessed by you 
Tormented in bed

Get out! Please, Get Out!
For I must go on!
Be exorcised NOW!
For my sake...be gone!

When I am all clean
With no demon trace.......
Then.....
Then....
Posses me once more
With your angel face!


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The Lamentation Over The Dead Christ

Michelangelo covered with the hood
Weeping tears as holding Christ, he stood
At the head of the man, who is the Lamb
That became the perfect sacrifice, the great I Am

Putting himself in Joseph of Arimathea's place
Helping Mary Magdalene and Mary Jesus' mother face
The tragedy, that they felt ended Jesus' race
His chance to be the Savior, sent to grace
 
The world with salvation and kingdom of love;
How each stroke of the hammer guided from above
Perfection of this work you desired for the Dove
When an error occured, you were not proud of

Gave this unfinished work away (to Antonio)
Who for a profit did sell the work for pay
Reconstruction by Tiberio Calcagni paved the way
For the look of the Florence Pieta' today




(The information that I got about this work said that Michelangelo used himself as a model 
for the hooded figure.  I could just see Michelangelo feeling the agony of the person when he 
put himself in their place.)


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01:40 - A Truth, A Lie

I kissed you goodbye, my mind's eye
Told me so. A fleeting phantom
To reface the embrace without
Lips, and I prefer this version. 


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From Violets to Violence

Faces and figures that only he can see.	
Heart sounds emit from his friend, the radio.
The past and the present are entwining him
As a once-hopeful future is lost in the din.

Upon dawn’s early light and throughout his days, now,
He knows to bear witness to all that they say now
From, “You are waste” and “Nobody wants you”
To, “Take your life now. You know that you want to!”
		
Shadowy forms on the ceiling and walls
Reach down to him: his tormentors’ calls
Where light is the dark and dark is the light;
Where night is the day and day is the night.

It’s a foregone conclusion, these garbled voices,
Bedlam’s intrusions interrupting his choices.
The velveteen violets too calmly revealed
Will soon be replaced by violence concealed.			


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Copy this Poem

Please copy this poem.
Post it on your office wall,
next to your bed,
or the toilet paper roll.

Memorize each word.
Recite it to your teacher.
Spin it into a song
and preach it like a preacher.

Use sign language.
Transcribe it into Braille,
Aramaic, Chinese and
Spanish. Let the world

know that this poem
and any other poem
that you or I write
is worth the daylight.

So, please copy this poem.
Post it on your office wall,
next to your bed,
or the toilet paper roll. 


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Clouds are like dreams


The clouds are like dreams just passing by.
Coming then going leaving behind blue sky.
They float through the air and then disappear
The dark ones are filled with angel’s tears.

Some are so big you can’t see the top.
Their home is the sky that never stops.
Friends with the sun they provide it with rest.
Like the tops of a wave as it starts to crest.

I try to imagine what it would be like
Floating a while then vanishing from sight.
Up so high that you can only see down,
Having no course to which you are bound.

No two the same, different shapes and size.
They provide shade and keep the sun from my eyes.
Sometimes you can look up and not see a single one.
Other times they are continuous blocking out the sun.

I wonder of what is and where the clouds go,
Will they drift away as the wind begins to blow?
I look up at the sky and see they are a part
Clouds are like the dreams I hold in my heart.

Clouds are like dreams some come true.
Once you realize nothing else will do.
They become colorful just before night.
Some days there are none not any in sight.


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THE DREAM

Have you ever had a dream
You'd wish it was true
You wake up in the morning
And you don't know what to do
The dream stays with you
Throughout the day long
You keep thinking it's true
Was it you that went wrong
You dream the same dream
Night after night
Then you think to yourself
Well, maybe I was right
You can always try
To find the right key
The dream will come true
If you just let it be


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MESSENGERS

MESSENGERS 


Serene leisurely flight of dandelion weightless 
Seed puff balls,   thoughts ascending
Across the  void measureless
Between the marguerites and the hedging.


Untroubled, they silently float, glide,
Delivering the seed of an idea
On the air’s measureless tide
From  somewhere else to here.


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AN ADVENTURE IN OUTER SPACE

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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string-along theory

you may not be able to easily relate
what happens to me from time-to-time
a tale quite hard to assimilate
especially if you're so disinclined

I examine my cell phone for incoming 
checking my wait, in vibrate mode
yet I perceive a sensation stunning
my waist vibrates without cell load

I'd swear on a stack of dollar bills
or better yet my Daddy's holy books
my phone vibrated of its own free will
since I'm not carrying, I must'a mistook

what oscillates around my middle
that gets my attention to titillate
the empty space at my belt, a riddle
invisible phone vibrates to stimulate

maybe the physicists are onto something
in regards to sub-atomic energy matters
and have string-along theories forthcoming
as vibrant phantom waisted feelings scatter

© Goode Guy 2011-11-28

I know this never happened to anyone else...yet...


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The Peril of Trees

Up in his branches?
Down in his toes?
Where's his brain hidin'?
Nobody knows.

You cut him, he bleeds
You chop him, he dies
You burn him, he crumbles
You tease him, he cries.

Whatever would cause you
to laugh at a tree?
Do you know he could mush you,
Insignificant flea?

Perhaps he can't run,
Perhaps he can't walk,
Perhaps he can't sing,
Perhaps he can't talk.

But he hears all you say,
And he sees all you do,
And it angers him greatly,
To be laughed at by you.

You may think he's funny,
You may think he's cute,
You may think he's ugly
And stupid to boot.

But that is no reason
To doubt its not true.
In more ways than one
He's exactly like you.

He knows about sadness,
He knows about pain,
He's cried in the sunshine,
And laughed in the rain.

But tease if you have to
And mock them as well,
Just remember they see you,
And paybacks are hell.


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CAN YOU HEAR ME

Well now,what shall I say then,because talk I must,
shall it be of love,grace forgiveness and things of above,
will my words wander creation,far and beyond ,
before concentrating on a form ,of which, I am fond;

Question upon question,pause now,what do you see ?
meditate quietly.in the silence,you will hear me,
slow and gradual,the mist will lift,if you trust,
with my words,a poem create,and then talk if you must.


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Sleepy Dreams

Sleepy Dreams

Imagination roams beyond the dark.
When dreamy nights pass wistfully sublime.
And wings of heavens fly unto life’s shore. 
Where sleepy thoughts to memories do climb. 

Revising ill felt days with fantasy. 
Reviewing deepest joys within life’s core. 
Where sleepy thoughts to memories do climb. 
And wings of heavens fly unto life’s shore.   

Before night folds and yields itself to dawn.  
Forgotten dreams remember stolen time.  
And wings of heavens fly unto life’s shore.   
Where sleepy thoughts to memories do climb. 

The daylight too soon chases night away. 
And puff!  Reality is somehow famed by lore.
Where sleepy thoughts to memories do climb. 
And wings of heavens fly unto life’s shore.   

© © Dane Smith-Johnsen
March 17, 2010
Poetic form:  Reverse refrain


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I want you

Passion erupting from your chest,
eyeing me like you do.
Singing to me, mouthing yes.
Telling me you want it too

Long for your smile, nail polised eye.
My body pulled close to you.
For your hand’s breath on my thigh,
Pupils say you want it to

Aged, to fine, more years to sin
Stubled man, my chance’as flew.
Caged, oh my, hungry for skin
I know you always wanted to

Your Eye confesses heat
feverd, I want it to
Waiting for lips to meet
Kiss me, mine want it too
Love, my heart lost a beat
Say yes, you wanted to
Just one time, and then repeat
Forever waiting, wanting you


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Closet Doors

Most closet doors are ok, if they're brand new homes.
Decorated with posters of the Rolling Stones.
Oh the monsters I made up when I was a child.
Inside my head were the sights of beasts running wild.

Some closet doors are made to punish naughty kids.
Because parents, though some grand, really blew their lids.
Long timeouts in the dark, sit still and be quiet.
But when I got out, I'd start a brand new riot!

Luckily all those times, are all behind me now.
So when I think back then, there's no beating my brow.
I don't see the monsters, or wild beasts anymore.
But clothes kept getting larger, in my closet doors.


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pre-ponderance of roads maps

out of sorts like something's missing
seems everything in life is preordained
vaguely sense today's unfilled blessing
maybe that's why life feels estranged

once, not enough, maybe all that we get
to glean from fields, our fruit and wheat
satiate our bellies, taste little regret
life's experiences that to us, taste sweet

if all of my days have been prearranged
then, that just begs the next question
must I antlike, walk a path without change
can't I wander life with self-expression

there's a price to be paid for stayin'
there's a price to be paid just to go
nothin' we don't know, I'm just sayin'
every goodbye is rebalanced with hello

roads there are many, fulfillment ahead
the road not taken, the one less traveled
makes a difference, stitching this thread
before our days on Earth come unraveled

so we're back to fork at current crossroad
and look down each, as far as can be seen
before we pick a path, next to be followed
to drive through life in our timeless machine

© Goode Guy 2011-12-15


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I Cannot Wait to Sleep

Temporary permanence
Allows me then to feel
That all wet things are dry
And all fake things are real
The dreams I have all come alive
I live my days at night
So temporary permanence
Turns darkness into light

There in dreams it all seems real
Where true strength lies within
Allowing me to live as wanted
Each night, over again
The wanting to relive each night
Brings smiles to the days
As the temporary permanence
In night dreams always stays


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Up in the clouds

Thoughts swirl around like the clouds in the sky,
Only to realize the world is much larger than I.
I close my eyes and I’m up in the clouds,
The sky starts to part now I see the ground.

Everything down there seems rather small,
Visions of crashing, seems I might soon fall.
I drift and swirl and then everything’s clear
I have nothing to be scared of except for fear.

Clouds move in, now it’s getting dark,
The shadows seem to taint my heart.
Thoughts still change just like the clouds,
Truth and light seem to be what they shroud.

I can’t break free my mind goes numb,
It all seems lost yet I want some.
The clouds get thick, now I can’t see,
Even though the future is right before me. 

The clouds swirl in circles like a merry-go- round,
They snuck up on me without making a sound.
They briefly disappear only to return,
The fire is coming and the bridges shall burn.

The clouds part and the sun is back.
I find myself getting, back on track
The thought flow freely through my head,
I open my eyes and see what’s ahead.


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Nuance

Set the tone 

noisy version -

(some) explained boring conversation -

exhausted all rivals -

overcome all objectives -

unique style...

Closed and respected...

Your speak...I know what you can afford...

Closed and respected...


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I Crawl Into Me (Inner Peace Challenge)

Outside, you see a person, maybe calm, maybe not
A demeanor of which can be accepted, understood
Deep inside, however, there is turmoil, even chaos
Which leaves me to always just do, as I should.

I take a deep breath
There, then again
I let it all out
I breathe in again

Now closing my eyes
On a world, so mundane
I travel to my place
Where I am kept sane

Here, I sit on a cloud
So fluffy, so white
It’s a warm summer day
Sun shining bright

I watch all the people
As I take in the view
It’s a place of just wonder
For all the world, too

This place in my mind
Where sanity dwells
Relieves me of stress
Takes me from Hell

So, the person you see, sometimes happy, maybe sad
Is not necessarily that person that you think you see
For I live among you, walk the earth, live a life
But for salvation from the day to day, I crawl into me.


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DREAMS

Dreams are something
That don't last very long
they're sweet and romantic
And they don't seem wrong
Dreams, they will linger
Around in my head
They make me feel good
Whenever I'm in bed
Dreams make my heart
Skip a lively beat
I like to dream about
The people I meet
Dreams, I don't have
Every single night
Because by the time I sleep
It's the morning light


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Only a Week...

Clink and the bell tolls
Crash and we breathe
Shout like the passion
in you dares to live
Laugh and the moon swells
Smile and we dance
Even though you say it's Greek
this idea of romance
Shoot straight your arrows
Preach only truth
Give like you will never be old
Treasure your youth
Speak and I'll listen
Listen as I speak
Live like a thousand years have passed
in only a week....




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VERY SICK OF THE FLU

I find hard to move around,
dragging my aching body,
unable to do even the simplest chores...
yes, I am very sick of flu:
it's something I can't undo!


I will not go to the hospital,
lie in a comfortable bed for hours,
coughing and sneezing waiting for a call...
while spreading this virus and infecting others.


I'm missing out on brisk walks  
that keep my immune system healthy,
and no blues frustrate me more than loneliness...
come spring and let joy renew itself in this memory.   

 
My remedy is Robitussin by far,
a miraculous cure for cold symptoms,
and since I can't go out, or drive my car...
I indulge myself in the creation lyrics.


It's my first day back to work,
I'm drinking coffee, and I shouldn't,
but these headaches won't go away...
unless I smell it, sip it and dream away.


Copyright 2010 by Andrew Crisci


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Utopia

Imagine if there was a parallel universe
Just an wee bit ahead in time
To allow us to avoid all our mistakes
A civilization most perfect in kind

How incredibly amazing that would be
A real chance to get things right
It would surely be possible to end all wars
To eliminate our desire to fight

Finally all over this great planet Earth
Peace and brotherhood would exist
No hunger no famine no worldwide disease
Like Utopia rising from the mist

I'd surely be lost if I couldn't imagine
So call me a dreamer if you must
Until proven beyond a shadow of a doubt
In a better future I will trust

Imagine if there was a parallel universe
Where all of our dreams came true
Till my dying breath I'll keep hope alive
For a world with a sky ever blue!


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OLD

Let's try to define the word OLD
It isn't hard to do
One looses their memory
And their hearing goes too

What is it like
To become old at heart
You sure don't need a comb
Because there's nothing to part

When it comes to reading
You do nothing but squint
So they buy you a subscription
To reader's Digest LARGE PRINT

When you step upon the scale
You're scared to look down
For some reason, it seems
There are a few extra pounds

Then there are your children
And now they have some too
It's okay to grow old
Because of the memories of you


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Upon Reading the Verse of Yvor Winters

He tried to fly to the sun
On wings he made of butter,
Burned his butt and his thumb
So slow his wings would flutter.

For he crashed far out at sea
Survived on an island alone.
Where he lived on butter and tea
There he built a boat of stone.

But, a boat of stone won't float,
As butter makes poor wings.
A poem in the sand he wrote
Yet it told of such sad things.

A tide washed his poem away-
And then this fool poet died.
In the sun his bones still lay
My hero, for at least he tried.


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Interlude

I had an interlude tonight
With what they call insanity
Plain as day, and standing there
Yet, only I could see!

He knocked upon the quiet door
That I had labeled civilized
Softly, then, he crept inside
A grand illusion he devised

With the ease with which he's known
He played havoc with my mind
Searching through the darkest part
My emotions undefined

Swimming in a sea of strange
I laugh hysterically
He is searching for a prisoner
But I know it won't be me

Dancing past the shadows
Firm in my decision
Wind is blowing in the cold
But I'm brushing off the vision

Crashing waves, I fling myself
This enemy, I greet
Eyes of pride, I spread my wings
And then resist defeat!


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Voices

Graveyards in the darkness
Silence in this night
Painful, like the living
Yet, asleep, against the sight

I see the tombstones glisten
With shadows in the black
Flickering with wierdness
And there is no going back

I enter in this freak show
Like a moth drawn to a flame
Somewhere in the denseness
Is the ending to this game

I hear so many voices
They are messing with my head
Maybe it's a graveyard
But, are these people dead?

My heart, it starts to pounding
My eyes are seeing faces
Perhaps I do belong here
I've been so many places

Screams are flowing through me
From someone elses' voice
I try to shut the sound off
But they donot leave a choice

I cannot run or hide now
The screams won't set me free
In the graveyard all alone
The voices came from me.


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Perhaps

Deny not, then, the feelings strong
As day so well turns into night
Upon your sleep let dreams allow
To bring you wanted sheer delight
A smile upon the face that sleeps
Is what I wish to see for you
So, dream, my dear one, dream it now
Maybe one day they shall come true


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War Within

Upon the throne
Lies a broken crown
The angels are crying 
Reality breaks down

Shattered swords
Just silver pieces
In a war of lords 
Reality ceases

The armor of knights
Lie in a pile
They put up a fight
For a little while

Life will be wasted 
Reality has failed
Welcome to 
My fairytale


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I Fear Thee, Not

Speaketh then, oh ghost who waits
You hover here to only haunt?
What powers have yee, lonely friend?
For all you do is solely taunt.

No fear, have I, for thou art rude
To watch my family behind closed doors
Speaketh then, oh ghost who waits
Or else, be gone, forevermore


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Puss And Boots

I bought my dreaming boots on sale
for ten pounds and a cat
but only dream in feline now...
Can you imagine that?


Details | Quatrain | |

Winter Attacks

Winter enters on the back of a puma
Speeding into the deep valley for a kill
Eyes affixed on its prey for devouring
As victims saw in its eyes, the thrill

The waiting prey is smart but so weak
As unprepared does it seem to always be
But this season, with hope, it’ll escape
By climbing the mountains high to be free

Lest not be overcome with the attack
The snow would surely ravage the prey
Move, prepare, don’t sit so idly by
If you see it coming, get out of the way


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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...


Details | Quatrain | |

Ava and Me in our Rainy Retreat

Amaretto morning
just like the earth to be grey today
Time for the old dog-eared book
all the while begging the rain to stay
I couldn't buy a moment like this
even in Lion's Head Antique store
I couldn't wish for a better excuse
to sink into myself, or to love you more
You grab the pillows and blanket
I'll fill the room with Red Star music
We will tell stories 'till we're laughing out loud
Ions of rain and the pressure diffuses
We are no longer dealing with death
We are no longer frazzled and wild
Just give us the rain on a Tuesday morning
and we become silly, as mother and child...


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As I Watch, I Think

The silhouetted loveliness that only she possesses
Shines through the room divider as she undresses
The image that so permeates the core of my mind
Seeks refuge from darkness as love’s there to find

To see all her details, the beauty, she is so adored
I cannot have a fill of her, I always want her more
She controls me with her look, her smile, her glare
Her beauty’s truly overwhelming, I give in to stare

Does he know what she does to me, to my heart?
Does she know she is my morning, my very start?
Does she have then a clue of the love that I have?
Whether she does or does not, with her I am glad.


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Embraced By Autumn's Change

The rain soaked grass reflects autumn’s power
Sitting with the leaves of changing trees nestled, dense
New fragrances arise from nature and nearby kitchens
As apple pies and cider inspire my feet and every sense

I feel within this ever changing world, the autumn air
How the season, also with it, brings a warm embrace
For the family and the season that is happily represented
Brings that feeling of comfort that can never be replaced


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I'm Not Here

I am here, but I am elsewhere
My mind, it wanders through space and time
To where? I do not even know
But I know, where ever it is, it is all mine

I dream, to go many places
In my mind, I’ve traversed this wonderful earth
But yet, my body remains here
In the land it has occupied since its birth

I know, I will continue to go
To where my body will never take me, I’ll be
For now, though, I am here
I don’t see you, though, you most certainly see me


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Shared Night

Out past the lake, in the greenest lushest meadow The sweetest girl, she waits there patiently for me With heart displayed as smiles, when I approach her We steal the passion from the night to share deliciously Her flowing gown is of the finest silks and satin So clinging to her body, outlining softness of her being As moonlight highlights her eyes and milky complexion The world spins on and on, but she’s all my eyes are seeing We dance, the guilty pleasure the moon doth offer We lay, upon the grass, as hearts pick up their pace We kiss, though gentle, yet evident so wanting We recognize the love, as we lay within embrace


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My Hope Still Floats

Where on this very ship I travel
Upon the waves so crested strong
The mast it breaks, the sails unravel
For here is where I don’t belong
My heart is there with you, my dear
But, on this sea, alone, am I
With dreams to just then hold you near
As soon this ship will sink, I’ll die
Yet, for the love that we had shared
I’m grateful then and this I cry

But, if the sun should warm the bow
Calm the waves that break the stern
I’ll pray again, that here and now
My love for you forever burns
As God may take me in his hands
Sparing my life then on this day
I’ll find you on those distant lands
I will, my love, of this I say
My heart forever remains just yours
To see you again, this too, I pray


Details | Quatrain | |

Nightly, They Glow.

Fluorescently yellow,
these flickering fireflies
swelling and streaking
'cross burgundy swazzled skies
Deeply enraptured 
and wanted to capture
I lie low in wait
as my breathing grows faster.
Wishing they'd light
on the tip of my finger
Casting their glow
for a moment they'd linger
Then off they would be
into darkening skies
Leaving their trails
like an exhaling sigh.


Details | Quatrain | |

The Plaintive Fish (or

In the heaviest hour I'm transparent
in skies that you've painted green
Carnivorous, blatant desire
replaced with a boyish need
May night creep beside me slowly
and nudge me along your path
The loveliest, calmest sea
flows gentle beneath my past
Oh hours and winters and all
the fish which do dive just for you
can't carry my sleepy ambition
or safely follow me through
You pray that our door can be found
but back to the edge of the road
we're pacing once more going 'round
envelope me kindly but slow
A fire when ebbing is shiny and blue
I really don't mind gazing long
despite the upcoming tragedy moon
I carry it 'round with your song
So sweet is the taste which you left on my brow
So warm the study with in
I'd crawl through if only you'd teach me how
to trade me some legs for these fins.


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SHINY LIMPETS

Calmness wasn't expected today by my overwhelmed spirit marveling,
I spot linden's branches with their yellow flowers brightly floating
as ships lost at sea; from which river did they come from?
Did someone break them off or was it a summer' storm?



Curiousity makes me look further down...discovering shiny limpets,
in conical form, stuck to tidal rocks and visited by water lilies;
a lizard watches my facial movements...I hear a male voice, 
"Sub rosa...in loco citato!" shouting to his gal so voluptuous...



Latin spoken these days? I stumble upon a familiar phrase
that some of my classmates used to whisper to girls wearing sunbonnets,
making believe they were practicing the liturgical language of priests;
and if they learned quickly, they would surely get a blind date... 



The lotus' fragrance induces a sudden rejuvination of the imaginative, uncontrollable senses;
a laison for those unsavoring women and femmes fatales... 
laying down on sandy beaches with gazes upon moonlight, with mellow faces
being stroken by manly hands, and hearts being fascinated by capricious words... 




The flaunting moon infuses the dreamer's innermost thoughts;
passionate verses adhering to the walls of the poetic heart as the shiny
limpets stick to the tidal rocks, making their ivocation to the invidious sea,
which glistens with its green and blue gemstones that reflect my sweetheart's eyes...


Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci





P.S. Translation: Sub rosa...in loco citato/ In secret...in the mentioned place
Femmes Fatales/charming or seductive women


Details | Quatrain | |

Shroud of Brethren Blood

A ribbon of peace made of red, white and blue
Had fallen to earth on a breeze
With hopes that someone would take and hold true
The values so needed for peace

Alive in the colors, representation of man
The struggles in life so endured
All sewn together in one tight fine weave
Offering to all, peace assured


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Balloon from Above

Into the air the colorful balloon flew,
Along with it, the little boy’s dream,
With hopes of reaching a far away land
One of which he has never seen.

Will it reach another child?
Or, will this meet a terrible demise?
He hopes the message that he sends
Will be seen by…another’s eyes.

The message he sends is that of hope,
Of kindness and always of love.
He hopes the balloon reaches anyone
That needs a message from above. 

He feels it is better than one in a bottle
For the receiver will think it was sent
From heaven itself, sent with an angel
And for one person alone it was meant.


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The Grave Worms Manifesto

Zet-Zime time compressed communication tool:
To: The people of Earth
Date: 2000 -2009
From: The Grand Sovereign of Earth
Date: 2776
Title: Grave worms manifesto
Copy: 11231

No flowers grow in this parcel of time
We have long ago drunk all their waters.
Water it was once but now more it's slime,
Sacrifice flowers for sons and daughters.

This Zet-zime I send through time and place
As our consequence dire and pending.
Our die cast from your greediness waste
Predestined the plight of our human race.
This path you cursed being its ending.

Your primitive thoughts and narrow visions
War schemes ventured to dominate others
Decisions, revisions and constant incisions
Has scared this Earth and killed our mother.

Your technical beam that now burns bright
Will soon be centered by a select few
Whose conscience ream the masses' plight 
Leaving only energy for death's firelight.
And garrote your sky to a repulsive hue

We pray this zime reaches back in time
Before all communication is severed
A warning to common, elite and prime
Grave worms inherit all you endeavored. 


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The Pompous Fool

Woe to he who believes written words for him With the cadence, softness, the romantic tones He cannot be the recipient of such sweet verse For no heart as beautiful is for him to belong While his eyes widen with dream, each word read He at least has one ounce, one spark of hope He, however, feels doubt though he wants to believe As her words are his manna, they help him cope Yet, what a fool, to think they are for him Words such as these, the verse, for the blessed But, for that moment, when submerged in each line He feels not like a fool, but much like the rest


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Lesser Expectations

Upsidedown on monkey bars
hanging from my knees,
dopey grins are sorrowful frowns
and upward drift dry leaves

Swinging back to front –
my favorite view of life,
bobbleheads go  bobbing by
and time ticks counterclockwise

Only for me!


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Storm of the Mind and the Sky

Organic mind with raw ideas
sifted, cured and polished
Orange light from impending storms
leaving believers astonished
Grinding action tripped and toned
stated perfunctory reading
Supplies drifting southward inhabit high waters
toward those bent on useless receiving
Insightfully different, the sky and the mental
while perpetually one and the same
If poured out too quickly a deluge ensues
'till the lone thought is all that remains
Harness the lightning, the neuron synapses
drink up delirium light
For when the storm breaks, be it mental or sky
the urge is to take wings, to fly
Stunning white mind with impregnated thoughts
Sky sighs a sigh of release
For when held at bay, both have something to say
and they'll speak for they can't hold their peace...


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Celtic Influence

Upon the hills, out past the lea
The sea spray lingers, mists the face
The green surrounds, a myriad
Ireland’s shores, a Celtic place

When in the day, the pride, they wore
As body armor for Gaelic force
Carries to this day, when green they wear.
The Celtic influence had set its course.

For they had come to make a mark
Settled there and changed the land
A fighting style, no clothes they wore
To make weak, opponents fighting hands


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Angels work

They love high places angels do
For they have no fear of falling.
From heaven high they perch anew
Singing hymns the angels are calling.


From loftily perches they see much beauty
Man's bald head and crusty souls.
I am sure they enjoy their heavenly duty
In Gods creation -the world in whole.


When angels fly from their heavenly seat
They buzz around man's business.
The very young they are charged to keep
From the devil's clutch and sickness.


So it's from heaven that angels descend
Winds of fate they help to steer.
Watching over God's sweet children
And so angels calm our childlike fear.


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Journey

One trip around the sun
And I still haven’t left this place
Burning feeling from my pen
Time from a distant mind

Eight phases of the moon
Eclipsed in a crater of discovery
Sifting through foreign thoughts
And I still haven’t left this place

Wading in a barren strait
Shipwrecked though never at sea
And I still haven’t left this place
Anchored by scribbled dreams

And I still haven’t left this place
And I don’t exactly know why
Trapped between two ears
Until I digress…sometime


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Wash Day

Frayed and puckered in a heap
Skivvies on top, worn socks beneath
Lace collar curled up in disgust
Offensive smells to upper crust

Deep baskets poured out jumbled loads
Soap bubbles flip flopped to and fro
Pearl buttons twirled as I declared
“Those agitatin’ underwear!”

Riled ruffles twisted in a bind
As boxers wiggled up behind
Inclined to fret and whirl away
When this old tub began to sway

Just fixin’ to soak in some suds
Till wringers caught the cycles buzz
This necks been drawn too many times
By garments surely less refined

Soon clothespins gathered at my tag
To pinch my frills despite those rags
Hung out to dry, high strung until
Tucked in a bag marked good will


Details | Quatrain | |

Like a Tree

Like the strongest tree, I have my roots
From which all of me has grown
They stand firmly planted within the ground
From the seeds my parents have sewn.

From the ground, I grew with pride
Over all of my accomplishments
I reached real high to touch the sky
And ignored all discouragements.

Now, in the spring and in the summer, too,
I blossom and I thrive
In the fall and winter months, though dormant
I’m quiet, but alive.

So, like the tree, providing so many things
I say to those who stand so near
I’ll stand here proud and stay here strong
Because my roots are always here.


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Your Fault

Through bloodshot eyes, the morning seems
To be a nightmare, rather than dream.
Though the sky is bright and ever blue
I will always see it as gray, because of you.
My night of last, was with all my friends;
My bottle buddies, means to an end.
When Johnnie came along, walking with Jim,
Jose and Jack made me jump in for a swim.
When I dried off, where I am right now
I realized your effect is lasting somehow.
No more of these friends, do I really need
But since you have left, it is me that they bleed.
So, take it to heart when I write you these words
This is your entire fault, though it sounds quite absurd.


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Ever Remain

If we were to melt the iron clouds
to a molten metal mist
We would ignite in a blink of an eye
under sparks from a midnight kiss
If we were to swim the Pacific, the blue
wrapping the rip currents raw
We would breathe water, crystal cold water
filling our lungs up in awe
If we were to swing from passionate prose
star to star hopping elite
We would illuminate silver slicked skies
from the moment the air touched our feet
If we were to fall into love, like we do
washing the slate down the drain
We would be wishless, soul satisfied
and determined to ever remain.


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The Windigo is Coming

Something's coming on the clouds
rolling in across the hills 
thunder booms away,
 aloud
run inside , I feel the chill .

 form a circle in the center
hold your hands and say  a prayer
this is not a friend or mentor
be afraid my dears,
Beware!

something's sad ,so sad and lonely
seeking life and love and home 
cannot stop until there's only
bloody scraps of hair and bone.

cold so cold  the fridgid specter
weeps to share a human touch
just becomes a dark collector
of the life he wants so much

hold your breath the earth is shaking
passing by ,now passing on
feel the pain ,its'heart is breaking,
you can hear it scream and moan.

"That was I ,he said behind me,
I'm so glad you stayed outside,
your warm heart was there to guide me,
come and sit down by my side."


Details | Quatrain | |

Mind and Body... I Need Sleep.

Alone on the painted precipice
bending the clouds to be weaved
I sink to one knee in a solemn reprieve
as the sky holds back words which would break me, bereave
Inside the four walls of my countenance
slipping down thoughts to be thought
I clip off the clouds and surrender my shroud
to the battle that's left to be fought
I'm tired and ragged with bones
I'm loosened in lips and I need to go home
The wires are crossed and my heart must defrost
to prepare me for being alone
I'm stuck with my head in the sky
I'm peppermint breathing to the infinite "I"
The heavy hung hope which I tethered with rope
has decided to stretch out and fly
Grappling to find my footing
somewhere between the braided cloud air
I fall through my thoughts like a slim chance not caught
to the brilliant white skull sunk somewhere
Be glad that your brain lets you rest
That it shuts down your stars in good night
Mine is elaborate and demands to be tended to
 I brace up my soul for the infinite fight...


Details | Quatrain | |

What Ever Will I Do?

Where do I go now?
What can I do?
I wanted to write
But where are you?

I turned on my computer
And you were not there
All I found was empty
I just sat there and stared

I didn’t think I liked it
But now I’m sure I do
I don’t know how I’ll live
Without visiting you

I really didn’t notice
The first thing that I do
I get up in the morning 
I go straight to you

I find my list of poems
And then I start to write
I even catch myself
Looking there at night

No it’s not an addiction
It’s just the way it’s been
I seem to have found a place 
I feel like I fit in

Some may think it’s silly
Maybe obsession
I don’t care what they think
This is my confession

I want to see my poems
Filtered through the loop
I like to have the feedback 
From my friends at Poetry Soup



I wrote this poem this morning while the service was unavailable. This is just for 
fun and I guess I was really bored. LOL  

I want to say thank you to all that have commented on my work and made me feel 
like I fit in. Smiles from Lena "Lolita"


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Just a Second, Mable Applebee

I'll meet you in the backyard
with chinaberries and tea
with cut-offs on and marigolds
and photographs to be
We'll dig a trench and tunnel
We'll run through sprinklers too
We'll tangerine the afternoon
until the sky is blue
The world will whirl around us
the summer bolting by
We'll lay on woolen blankets
and blow kisses at the sky
We'll plant another fig tree
and push around our thoughts
'till they all line up in obedience
and produce the goods they've brought
If you will speak a story
then I will hum a song
and maybe the birds on the back phone line
will fly on down and sing along
If we can muse the day light
to bite a chunk off the moon
then maybe the day will unravel away
on this perfect afternoon...


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Hot Dog Man

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 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.


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Staged deception

With a wave of the wand
A gesture of the hand
The audience was agape
There, under command

With magic before them
So ever amazed
Their eyes were wide open
Just seemed so dazed

Pulling rabbits from hats
To cutting someone in two
Houdini’s metamorphosis
With their heads, I did screw

They really applauded
They truly believed
But the audience is gullible
For they were deceived


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Be Free to be Happy

Yes, be who you like, say what you will
I am for you to set you free
Dream what you like, act as you wish
I am here, just for you to be

Allow yourself fantasy, give into flight
If to catch, I will be there
But, if you’d like to take me along
Take my hand to go everywhere

Let me be what you always wanted
Your lover, your friend, your beacon, your joy
I just want to make you ever so happy
I’ll use all in my power and dreams I’d employ

So let yourself go, feel the wind in your hair
Smile as you sense my warm caress
My presence, eternal, this I declare
I offer you life anew without duress


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Answering Jonji

Walk on almond paths
of winter sprigs and thyme
floating upward under steps
you left for me in rhyme
I wish to counter balance
your magnitude and flow
with a whisper and an echo
like the winter winds which blow
Crisp inhale and wonder
with a cup of fresh brewed bliss
while the loose exhale of winter
turns my thoughts toward those I miss
You always memorize me
while you turn to me in kind
with a moment and a whisper
which you always leave in rhyme
I love you like forever
as you warm my hands in yours
as we wind on down our sensory paths
and land on different shores...


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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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The Vacant Eye

Blinded as a child, 
by a rock thrown at my eye
The pain was great, I'd demonstrate, 
but I'd hate to make you cry
I found a marble on the street
and figured it would do
Popped it in that vacancy
so I could stare at you
Now 'scuse me sir, it's rude to gawk
at someone else's head
even if my real eye's green
and the other crimson red.
Beggar's can't be choosers,
that's what I've always known
This shiny red is better still
than just plain hollow bone
Now turn away and eat your soup
you perfect featured fellow
Be glad your eyes are real and match-
They could be blue and yellow...


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Nocturne in C minor

Saturated with decision
words in grain and grass
broken into tiny pieces
shards of biting glass
Born of music, lost reflection
calling from the pool
Fill me up with stars creative
sugar dipped and new
Hollow out the heart in motion
stain it iridescent
Carve the moon a silver locket
shavings from the crescent
She will hang like butter beige
stone and marble breath
on the living and the dying
'luminate their death
Breathing words of whispered sage
Tiny slivered glass
You're my music in the moonlight
lost in evening's past.


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Dream Sifting

Sleeping sprawled with open mouth
like bears, in caves, in winter
Dreams cling to your lady bug lights
and rain back down in splinters
Splinters of thoughts carried away by the day
and absorbed into weavings of nights
Swirling around in your room at the sound 
of my footsteps ~ a luminous sight
Thick in the midst of your sweet mind's spring cleaning
True hibernation of youth
In the peace of your sleep, I watch over you, keep
all the dreams that you don't want to let loose...


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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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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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Blanket the Earth

Like all hands, together, across the wayward planet,
Reaching out, in unity, to touch the endless sky,
Form a forever quilt, a soft warm cozy blanket,
A magnificent tapestry of hope, before our very eyes.

The earth would lay barren if not for the advance of man
But, it will become barren as a result of all they choose.
Spread out the blanket across the entire world and sky
And lay in the comfort of warmth, with nothing ever to lose.

Let this blanket be placed by all with desire and care,
Laying ever so gently, so to snuggle safe and loved, within.
Blanket the earth with a bounty of love and goodness
And like a fine soil, let it bring new life and hope again.


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God's Seeds

The earth is now tilled
I pulled out the weeds
I then made some holes
Then threw in some seed

I looked to the sky
Then prayed for some rain
So flowers will grow
For beauty, to gain

The heavens had opened
Dark clouds all around
I ran for some shelter
The rain hit the ground

Much to my surprise
The flowers then grew
Miracles happen
I believe, do you?


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Birch Eyes on Fireflies

Dusting, cascading on wings confiscating
the dreams spilled in pools of desire
We watch and we wait in a thick contemplate
on these paper soft wings to expire

Birch eyes on fireflies, chalky moth feathers fly
slicing the moon from it's strings
Crashing back down to splash drops of desire
incredible, though for the moment it stings

Whispers on wings to the fallen moon sings
touching the tongue of those minted and mute
Lost in these nights, an incredible sight
one which no ether of sense can refute

Silver eyes letting tears, metaled and molded years
Dreams all at once see their chance at escape
and latch on to wings hooked to birch eyes on fireflies
sweeping the sky leaving dust in their place.


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Into Dusk

The sun and sea gazes upon them
As they bask in the light of their undying love
Serenaded by the sounds of the ever pounding surf
The angels look down and even smile from above

Theirs is a love with a fiery glow
For theirs is all the heat they ever need
Together, the two, perspire relentlessly
With their passion raging, not to recede

As the watery surf reaches their offering
The water itself then turns into steam
The two then complete, hold on to each other
They each close their eyes and fall into dream


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Lullaby

Sweet dreams, oh tender one
Let your heart control your mind
Dare not dream of frightful things
Dream this eve, of love to find

Let night blanket your true beauty
As eyes fall closed upon your face
Dream that dream that you so often
Dare to dream, of sweet embrace

Let not the daylight then awake you
Stay lost in dreams as much you can
I promise, there, to meet you this night
As dreamland beckons us again

Upon awake, as your eyes open
Take with you a thought this day
Remember then, the dream you had
Smile until, again we play

For dreams they come to us each eve
As we rest our heads on pillows, white
Until I see you there, oh tender one
I wish to tell you, have a great night


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Country Squire

Country Squire that owns this estate
Surrounding land and many lakes
No longer comes on scheduled time
In the village he mostly awaits

On his white steed he often climbs
To the estate he comes anytime
Brings a lady by his carriage
Wants a soulmate's love that's sublime

On estate he has advantage
Where he can put in her beverage
A potion of borage love potion
Hopes this will lead to a marriage

For this woman he wants for wife
To live and love him all his life
In his castle there will be no strife
In his castle there will be no strife


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Pleasure Palace

In a land so very far away
Exists a castle fifty stories high
With a room for every day of the year
I can only wish to get to there before I die

They say each room has a theme
For each theme brings such pleasure
If one’s to take their time in each room
They will certainly find their hearts treasure

A man, there, can feed his every need
His desires, whatever they are, would be met
For there, he would be able to fulfill all his dreams
Giving him grand memories, ones he’d never forget

If you’re ever in that part of the world
You’re looking to have the time of your life
Head to the castle with a years worth of rooms
But consider, first, if you should bring your wife


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Sleeping Problems

My day is finally complete
I can now rest my head
Next to my wife
There, sleeping in bed
The doors are all locked
I have turned off the lights
I’ve checked all the kids
And I’ve kissed them goodnight
The windows are shut
The thermometer is set
Everything is now quiet
As I rest then my head
But alas, there’s a noise
So quickly I rise
I run to the kitchen
While rubbing my eyes
Where there in the corner
Just waiting to relieve
Is the family dog, Lucky
Who whimpers to me
So I unlock the door
Turn on the backyard light
I tell her to go out
And make it quick on this night
I’ve work in the morning 
I must soon retire
But the dog did not hear me
As she ran, like on fire
She cornered a critter 
Who crawled under the fence
Then so did the dog
So outside I went
When the door had shut closed
It locked fast behind 
I hadn’t a key
I then lost my mind
For the dog had come back
With no way to get in
As I in my skivvies
Was sporting a grin
I knocked on the door
As loud as could be
The whole house had awakened
And just laughed at me 
So back to bed they went
I double checked all again
Then quickly ran to bed
And out then I went


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House of Souls

If you listen very closely,
way into the night
there are sobbing sounds and spirits
that will surely give you fright.
For in that darkened house,
with boards upon the panes,
sunshine never enters,
just eternal rains.
It appears there was a time
when the sunshine was let in,
but not since that frightful night
of debauchery and sin.
Captives in the rooms
were tortured and left to die.
Now, of those lost souls,
if you listen, hear their cries.
So, if you enter in the house
that only darkness thrives,
you better turn around and run
if you want to spare your lives!


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Terse Verse

You give us just the same old beat –
no lilt or swirl or surge or sweep.
If you wish to dance a line,
why can’t you make it ring with rhyme?


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Wilt Me

Drizzle languid silver sleep
upon my lids, lashes curled
to trap my dreams, lest they escape
and sink to the bottom of oceans
Let the windows kiss the sun
hold my face, warmed to sleep
liquid limbs, to slumber on,
and wilt me the afternoon...


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Hearts Despair

Across the many miles lies my heart
Vanquished to an eternal stay alone
Never to touch another, to be a part
Left cast aside, to be turned to stone

As desert sun descends in western sky
My heart, it watches the sky turn black
For no light, except stars, hits its eyes
As it prays to God, that day comes back

For a days with sunshine, it now lacks
Succumbing to loneliness, under attack


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To Dreamland

From where the winds start on their course
My mind, it wanders there, across the seas
For inspiration’s found there, it has a source
As thoughts consume thereby controlling me

My mind is so lucky to have this great place
Where dreams override reality through word
There, yes, I have the image of love’s face
I also have a voice, which is so clearly heard

Alas, I go there when my time does permit
For I have peace there, to dreams I submit


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Dream World

There is a world not far away 
Where one can go to gain
A sense of safety, comfort too
A place of sun, no rain

Within the world, the flowers bloom
The sun shines ever on
The greenest grass, bees serenade
Buzz happy with their song

I’ll meet you there when you request
T’is there we two shall be
Along with family and friends of past
Again, all of them, we’ll see

It is a world set in our dreams
Though, not that far away
I hope that all can come and see
You’ll wish that you could stay


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Drinks Anyone?

In a dim lit barroom, sitting
never quiet, I do say
there’s a man ever present
with a game there to play
If you have some quarters
and some time there to fill
seek out this man, Patty,
as he’ll give you a thrill
With many a story
a tale he would tell
Patty drinks his worth
and does it quite well
with always a pint
or a mug there in hand
you’d be so surprised
at how well he could stand
For he holds well his liquor
and does so with pride
So you shouldn’t play quarters
with Patty McBride


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If Song

If I had a song, it would wake me
in the dim before dawn with its buried
drumbeat of dogs breathing
beside the bed.

That song would tune up
past the window in a reedy piping 
of some bird I never noticed,
setting up reverberations of dream.

A song would march me out the door, 
where sun finds its notch 
between pines, so I’d hold my palms up 
open, soundless in applause.

If I had a song, it would keep me
going through the day, a tune I can’t 
get out of my head, puzzling out 
a word that seeks its rhyme.

A song would feed me, tease me, 
blow me kisses and taunt 
me with its triteness/rightness
till I became the song.


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Monsters

 There’s a fire burning
 Just under there
 While I play with the monsters
 In my nightmare 

 There’s a fire around me
 Filling my head
 While I sing with the monsters
 Under my bed

 There’s a fire in the sky
 It’s falling down 
 While I laugh with the monsters 
 And dance around 

 The fire burns bright
 It brings back reality 
 And all the monsters
 That live inside me


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Reading Rilke

You wind your will around me
spun and sugar coated stiff
to engulf and winterize me
with the words upon my lips
I'm quiet in cacophony
inside your sugared wish
as the stories you have woven
sink their soul into my hips
I listen to the printed page
as if you whisper in my ear
the silent yearnings of your heart
Coated sugar, crystal clear
You mesmerize me with your voice
from the land where you hold your pen
These words are the best laid, sweetened thoughts
in the ears of poetic men.


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Whispering Winds

Whispering winds, from where did you come?
Did you come here to entice and excite?
Were you the thought of one sent to another
to gently seduce, in the night?

Whispering winds, where do you go
after you affect all of us here?
Are you just that, lingering about,
ready to drive us to tears?

Whispering winds, don’t go so fast,
I need you to speak to my friend.
She needs the whisper in her ears
and here’s the message I’d like to send

Just close your eyes, oh lovely one,
let the wind whisper to your soul.
Dream your sweet dreams, dream on and on
and let yourself lose control.

Come back to earth another day,
just so you can dream again.
When you need to hear my words,
the whispering winds I will send.


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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 
think?
Why, when approached, do they speak looking away, rather than looking in one’s 
eyes?
Why, when someone’s working in their yards do they not offer up some water to 
drink?

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 
more.
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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Sea, She Loves Me

With forceful currents there, possessed
She pushed me fast to shore
As winds had stirred up, at my back
The sea provided cure

My voyage ended weeks ago
When the homeward ship went down
With prayer and hopes, a dingy afloat
She would not let me drown

Nor be shark bait, a worm on hook
The sea kept me alive
With nature’s course, on current float
I was not meant to die

She placed me on a sandy beach
Upon the break of day
The sea, she kept an eye on me
And taught me how to pray


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Anne Donnelly's Curse

She wore satin and lace
As she ran through the town,
Teasing all the young men
In her sheer, white nightgown.
She was often the flirt,	
But I knew all too well
That young Anne Donnelly 
Had suffered from a spell.
It was told long ago,
A young witch, t’was her aunt,
Was caught with a young man
From the town of Capant.
Now, Capant, in its day
Was known as a strict town,
But that young witch, her aunt,
Had chosen to stay ‘round.
She had cast her first spell
On a man, so she thought
But it backfired on her,
So a lesson was taught.
Now, she loved this young man
And he did, in return
Sharing two hearts as one
As fire, their love shall burn.
But the town had caught wind
Of the young witch’s spell
And though it didn’t work
They condemned her to Hell.
But, she had formed a spell
All the children would know
But again, it backfired
Now young Anne suffers so.
Her curse is now aware
To the town folk and me.
Her nightly dance, ritual
Is what we all now see.
When she sleeps in the night
Her feet then hit the floor
Whether she is dressed, or not
She dances out her door.


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If Only

In a world, where turmoil reigns supreme,
the leaders, man, live by their rules.
Never considering what life truly means, 
leaving themselves, resembling fools.

For eons, now, with arrogant pride
they ruled and still rule, with iron fist.
However keen or smart they claim to be,
they live in a fog, can’t ‘scape the mist.

There is a hope, yet, here for all
Given as gifts within the being.
Open your hearts and then your eyes
Witness the love that’s there to be seen.

For if love were to rule, instead of a man,
Things would be better, all for the good.
Considering others would always come first,
But if only… if only… if only they could.


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Beauty of Life

The painted rose is displayed there on the table
Where peering eyes can gaze and therefore see
Adorned in vase, transparent yet so beautiful
It sits there waiting, but forever will not be

So placed by hands that wanted for possession
Yet, from the dirt, they stole the rose’s worth
As scent and beauty dies, its imperfection
Unless remained so planted within the earth

For there, if left to die, its beauty comes back
As stems beget the buds left there to thrive
The beauty then comes back with new flourishing
As if that one rose again was still alive

The choice here then is simple, do we cut it?
Or, do we let it grow for the entire world to see?
The rose was not meant for solitary pleasure
But rather meant for all of you and me.


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Children's Summer

The grassy fields of mankind’s youth
Were soft, so lush and green
Where childhood days of running free
Were more than just a dream

The days were spent always with friends
As smiles fell on our faces
Alive, so happy, playing games
Hide and seek in many places

When the sun set, we had gone home 
As the dinner bell did call
Quickly we ate, sat with family
Then ran out again for ball

Then when dark, we stayed close to home
And played until very late
To bed we went, with dreams to have
Of the things we’d do the next day


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Walking on the Highway

Walking on the highway;
Making sure it’s clear.
Looking up and down the road.
There ain’t nobody here.

The night is getting darker
There ain’t no one around
Until I walked a few more steps
And then I heard a sound.

Creeping up behind me
Faster and faster it seemed
Quickly then I turned around
And into his face I beamed.


(This is my very first poem written when I was six years old, 38 years ago. Hope 
you like)


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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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Ecidujerp

Washed away with the tears;
the feelings of a man.
Oh, he tries, and not in vain.
He does the best he can.
For, he has lived a thousand years 
deep within our souls.
For, he will live a thousand more.
He is you. He is all.
Why can’t you see the way we are?
For, we are but one and the same.
And remains; a difference of no value, 
the difference of our name.
As you shall see, it should be clear,
there is no black, nor white.
You must first, know yourselves
to finally see the light.




I wrote this when I was 16, 28 years agao and it still applies today. Isn't that a 
shame?


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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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Ghosts

Why fear the ghosts of those who passed?
I ask you, were they not family or friend?
If loved ones were to come one day back,
wouldn’t it be good to see them again?
There’s no danger, ever, from those you loved.
They returned just to say a few things.
Don’t run in fear while screaming aloud!
Listen to the message that they bring.
Perhaps they came to shed some light.
Perhaps they came just in order to say,
that they can see you from where they are
and you better just change your ways.
Ghosts are just those memories
that manifest themselves over time.
For, if you believe, I mean really believe,
it isn’t just all in your mind.
I, too, have spoken with those who have passed.
They had come with a message from above.
They told me that I should not ever worry
and just take care of those that we love.
There really is a better place, they said,
that we all can look forward to see.
They will go back and prepare us room.
There would be no better place to be.
The next time a ghost appears before you,
take the time to listen and truly hear.
For will be a message that they will bring,
from a person you once held so dear.


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Stalking

I crept upon the moonlit night
To where my heart doth dwell
To spy amidst the candlelight
My one true love, my belle

A sultry vision, tempting eyes
Her pow’rs just never belay
She leaves me ever paralyzed
My love she keeps at bay

No wishing brings her to me
No praying makes her know
The feelings I want her to see
The love I wish to show

So, I will sneak again tonight
The shadows know my course
I’ll seek her out by candlelight
As love reveals its force


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Sing

It comes from within me
Down, so deep down inside
It sometimes completes me
That voice I can’t hide
It seems lyrically able
I hit some high notes
I enjoy all the feelings
The occasional votes
Love when I’m singing
I’m peaceful, at ease
I wish I could share
I desire just to please
With mic in my hand
My dream, then be set
To sing for all others
I’m not there just yet
One day, I hope maybe
When I make that choice
But for now in my darkness
I sing loud with my voice


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Christmas Hours

Snow soon turns to water, Christmas days are all but gone
Busted playthings and fading color, are all that linger on.
Off all the presents gotten and given, unwrapped be-fro' a tree
I treasure in these hours, memories that were given to me.

The look on little faces when Santa did not pass them by.
Snoring of grandfather, as a football game watched (or tried).
Ladies in a kitchen, laughing at each other as they cooked.
Wonderful smell of a turkey, and the way our table looked.

Hugs, kisses, and warning of roads as some took their leave,
Even clearing of wrapping paper, around a Christmas tree.
Putting to bed of tired little bodies as light began to fade.
Prayers to God our Father, for the family for which He gave.


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Shore of Time

By the shore, the sun now sets.
Here I stand, but time forgets
Standing, looking upon the sea
Will time be my enemy?

Memories flood from way back when
My head now filled of now and then
Some good, some bad, but all are mine
If only now, I had the time.

Whoa, to be able to one day return
Go back to the days for which I yearn
The life of love, I shared back then
Then, all my love, to you I send.

But, here is the now, present and still
No chance to go back, except for the will.
I have that want, so maybe you’ll see
A better tomorrow may come back to me.


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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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Oh, That Angel of Mine

On clouds of white, she travels night
Unto the stars she rides so free
An angel there, with flaxen hair
The heart she holds she stole from me

She knows her power, just like a flower
A beauty she is and smells so sweet
For when she’s near, her voice I hear
This divided man she makes complete


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Tell Me

Dreams and desires! 
Desires and dreams!
Tell me, oh great one,
What do they mean?

Keep true to yourself, 
but dream, there, within.
Without that bright light,
You would be done in.

Desires and dreams!
Dreams and desires! 
Tell me, oh great one,
What hinders these fires?

Know to yourself,
You rule with your heart.
Your brain should then follow
And give them their start.

Dreams and desires! 
Desires and dreams!
Tell me oh great one,
Are they as they seem?

Know this my subject,
That your work will prevail.
With dreams in your heart 
You are certain to sail.
With desires and wants,
Those deep down inside,
Decipher the truths
From the ones that must hide.
For they are the reason
For everyone’s quest.
Decide on which ones,
For you’ll do what’s best.
Decisions I gave you
To choose on your own,
But do what is right
To one day come home!


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To Be A Fairy

If only I were a fairy, 
then I could just fly away, 
and escape this toxic abyss 
that I’m faced with every day. 
With wings to guide me, 
and a magic wand to cure, 
In my world of fantasy 
there's no pain I can not endure. 
If only I were a fairy 
I could make my life all my own, 
With a bed of flowers and some pixie dust, 
Friends, adventure, mystery... never alone. 
To frolic through the forests, 
and sing out loud with glee 
A chance to go back to being 
a small child, entirely free. 
To be amongst the fairies 
All you've gotta do is believe, 
Rest your eyes and begin to dream, 
Imagine the wonders you can achieve!