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Long poem by Just That Archaic Poet | Details |

Bionic Betty: Another True Tale from the Mental Ward

Betty was bonafide crazy. She had shot her husband after a night of drunken quarreling, and was in the state mental hospital instead of being in the slammer. She'd shot the louse in the stomach and he had lived, fortunately for her. I never tired of hearing about Betty's attempted escape and eluding of the police in the aftermath. Over the river and through the woods she ran, but not to grandmother's house, sadly; she didn't know where she was going; all she knew was that she HAD to get the hell outta there.

Down a steep embankment she had tumbled, right next to the highway. As she attempted to orient herself, a car slowed down, it's lights blinding her as she tried to pick off the brush, debris and twigs that clung like glue to her hair and muddy nightgown. The car stopped, two cops sprang forth and yelled, "FREEZE!". The jig being up, Betty did as instructed, was cuffed and read her Miranda rights. She never bothered to elaborate how she wound up in the loony bin instead of staying in the pokey, but I can only imagine it was due to her obvious derangement.

Betty was a hoot; funny as could be and an excellent card player. She had long, shaggy salt and pepper frizzy tresses that looked more like a Halloween wig than an actual coiffure. She was well into her fifties but seemed much older with her deep smoker's wrinkles and heavy, sunken eyes, like a soul that's known too much wear, tear, pain and heartache and aged prematurely. On more than one occasion I questioned her actual insanity, but on one night, when the moon was full and all the crazies were, admittedly, much more maniacal than normal, my doubts about Betty's "playing possum" dissolved. It's true, you know, what they say about a full moon and the impact it has over the mind; I've witnessed it first-hand too many times in different psych wards to discount it as "old-wives" folklore. Nurses never fail to mention when there is a full moon; they know it to be true as well.

I don't know what set her off. I was enjoying a game of rummy with Angela, a paranoid schizophrenic with a penchant for identifying supposed conspiracies within the hospital, when I heard Betty screaming furiously and cussing up a hurricane. Well, something didn't suit her, obviously, and she was having none of it. This is when I began to wonder if Betty was not part "Bionic Woman". Next thing I knew, she wailed like a banshee, took off sprinting down the hall at incredible, breakneck speed that defied her rather plump figure and stubby legs, and drop-kicked the heavy, locked steel door that barred the exit of ward "Grag". Nurses hit the panic button and made urgent phone calls which signaled the goons and heavy muscle to race toward our ward to subdue the unsubduable. Soon as Angela heard the nurses all in a frenzy, she yelled, "CONSPIRACY LEVEL UP! TOP FLOOR!" ("Top Floor" being the ward that housed the most violent or dangerous loons.) Paranoid schizophrenics are such a suspicious bunch!

As Betty raced by, Angela immediately stood up, cheering her along, chanting "GRAG STYLE, BABY; YEAH!". In total astonishment I watched this Wonder Woman drop-kick this barricade (which was most definitely designed to keep us confined) in total kung-fu, samurai, ninja style with such force that it burst wide open! Talk about jaw-dropped incredulous! By the time Betty the She-Hulk nearly drop-kicked her way to freedom, the goons (as the big orderlies were dubbed) descended upon her, but she fought with such ferocity that for just an instant I thought she might break free, given that she had picked up a nearby chair and was using it to fend them off with the skill of a lion-tamer (or so I mused). But poor Betty was helplessly and hopelessly outnumbered and the whole incident must have happened in the span of maybe two minutes, but time has a funny way of slowing down and stretching in instances such as these, when the eyes and mind are trying to comprehend the incomprehensible. She was tackled on all sides, but not before one of the stooges took a whack upside his empty head. Nurses rushed forth, syringes in hand, and gave Betty the usual knock-out serum of hefty doses of Haldol and Benadryl (don't ask me how I know this!). Then, as was the procedure in all such cases, Betty was strapped down on a gurney and wheeled away to the "Quiet Room" where she was to be closely monitored by some muscle.

As one of the orderlies passed, carting the drowsy Betty past us, Angela barked one of her customary insults of, "YOU SMELL LIKE ASS AND NACHOS!" which never failed to tickle me to no end. The excitement over, Angela and I went back to our game of rummy and she accused me of cheating when I won, flipped over the table, and stormed off (but she always did this whenever she lost.) Ah, Angela; what I'd give to play rummy with you again! 

A few days later, after a two week stint, I was finally released and never saw or heard from Betty (or Angela) again. Whenever I see someone fly into a rage, I am often happily reminded of Betty, Super-Woman of ward "Grag". Why was I there? I'll never tell!


Long poem by Terry O'Leary | Details |

The Verdict

NOW
Well, GI Jack is welcome back, he left his legs in 'Nam.
He wakes at night in sweat and fright, then drinks another dram.
He doesn't know quite where to go, so seeks his uncle, Sam.

BEFORE
One can't ignore - his ma was poor, and life was sometimes cruel,
yet Jack was brave and well behaved and surely no one's fool	
so joined the ranks that man the tanks, as soon as he left school

He learned to kill our foes at will (ordained a sacred rite),
and packed his bag and wrapped his flag and went away to fight.
And yes, the tide was on our side (for, clearly, might makes right)

Through tangled days in jungles' maze, he sought the enemy
behind the trees where, ill at ease, he fought the Yellow sea -
Upon the waves of sunken graves he sailed a killing Spree

The napalm dropped and cooked the crops, burnt huts along the way
and tanks, with ease, mowed down the trees and villages of clay.
Yes, turret guns were loads of fun with roaring roundelays

While on the hunt with other grunts, he burned some babes alive
and wondered why frail things must die, while evil's phantoms thrive -
When folly ends, he'll make amends if only he'll survive
	
With booby traps (sticks dipped in crap)... yes, Charlie fought unfair.
He hid in holes like snakes and voles and snuck up everywhere
and like a mite beneath the night, caught Jackie unaware

At battle's end, Jack sought his friends - their souls were washed away
and only he and destiny were left in disarray -
With bed and pan, just half a man, the man of yesterday

When Jackie woke, beyond the smoke, his frame no longer whole,
he found instead a medalled thread, some wraps to hide the hole,	
and realized another prize: a chair on wheels to roll

Across his chest (you've surely guessed) his medals shone, arrayed.
His head felt light, as well it might, at Victory Day Parade
for when he rolled, while others strolled, his boots no longer weighed

AFTER
Well, Jack stayed home (no roads to Rome)  to start his life anew
receiving dole (that took its toll) which fell in Sam's purview,
but soon enough, when times got tough, his uncle, Sam, withdrew

To walk the streets with fine elites (or someone else who begs)
or find a job (or even rob) requires both your legs,
and those that don't and those that won't are those we call the dregs
 
For getting by he tried to ply and mine his medals' worth -
A tinny cup, a hungry pup near loamy pits of earth,
and best of all, per protocol, beneath a bridge, a berth

He clutched a sign 'A dime to dine?', if anybody cared,
but soon he found, as time unwound, that victors seldom shared.
And Jackie's pride was slowly fried by vacant eyes that stared

He took to drink to break the link with thoughts of what he'd done,
though threads of doubt began to flout the yarns Big Brother spun
of freedom's ring and other things like what it was we'd won

He told the breeze his vague unease; his words infused the air
and like the fogs above the bogs, soon floated through the square
where people sat at tea to chat, and thought 'How could he dare'

But freedom's price is never nice: like storms before the flood
the Daily Rag was on a jag, was looking out for blood,
deemed Jackie's thoughts untamed and fraught, then dragged him through the mud

By snooping clues, they plucked his views like grapes upon the vine.
Big Brother came, blamed Jackie's name for thinking out of line,
shut Jack away from light of day while letting freedom shine

The Junta Brass, with eyes of glass, were dressed in fine array
to hear the words (though slightly slurred) the witness gasped to say,
while Justice snored (the water board awash with Perrier)

Well, Jack was charged with laws enlarged in secret dossiers
within the guise of spreading lies and leading thoughts astray -
The Jury's out... the rabble shout 'well someone's gotta pay'

The Judge (who fears the mind’s frontiers), he turned his head to yawn
while making haste through courtroom waste, though slightly pale and wan -
The voodoo Lune withdrew as soon as Night condemned the Dawn

ETERNITY
While in his cell, the verdict fell - the sighs of Silence, rife
While in his cell, the verdict fell - the Reaper played a fife
While in his cell, the verdict fell - the price was Jackie's life

Epilogue
While censor’s cooks are roasting books (and truth) on stakes ablaze,
well, Jackie's head (though chopped and shed) still thinks about the praise
for deeds once done in victories won when cruising in a craze,
and then again about the sin of thinking, nowadays,
where, absently, humanity is served in urns on trays -
And, reconciled, it simply smiles at fortune's funny ways

Epitaph
A  mind was caught while thinking thoughts neath Sammy’s prying gaze
and forced to stop by concept cops, else join the castaways.
For now it's law to hold in awe the brave new world's malaise
and dance like mimes to rigid rhymes (which no one disobeys)
and celebrate with white-washed pate, adorned with dead bouquets -
With freedom’s death, time holds its breath, and waits for better days...


Long poem by nick goth | Details |

Clock Watching Agency Idiots

Clock Watching Agency Idiots 
Numerous times I have joined a work placement agency to do a mind numbing brain dead moron work, been on the poverty line. Hard up, broke. Take your documents in, sign on the dotted line and you belong to us right now. Send me to a crap place with crap people for crap money for a crap agency. Staff UK sent me to Constellation Luggage in a run down Victorian cotton mill, £3.60 per hour. Sorting out suitcases busting your balls emptying cargo containers, stacked floor to ceiling, from Red China. Up to three separate places on as many days when I worked a week. If the idiots have not paid me the week later, where was I at? At Fashion Logistics sorting out clothes; you can’t even take a crap without the idiots interrogating you. Don’t like it there? Walk home down the motorway from Castleton to Oldham, be picked up by the Old Bill. Taxi! 
To Rescource agency, to be placed at Bernstein plc, Middleton. Now shut. A real flat pack craphole! C’mon you idiots! First the bits flat into the boxes, have to beat the record! Xxx many thousands, beat the other line! You lad, who me? Yes, you! You haven't put the piece in flat, we had to stop the line. Frig you, I don’t give a frick, I’m only here coz they won’t give me my dole. I left another crap job - Park Cakes mental asylum. I eye up all the birds all day and listen to the radio, c’mon 4pm! Agency idiots at Rescource agency even charge me £3 a day for the privilege of going to their crap job. The boss is okay, short skirt and bare legs, I’d dance close to her. Late night drinks in Manchester for this Yorkshire bint. I waited one and half hours once to be picked up, at 5.30pm - guess who drove thru the gates to the small pond/nature reserve in her Pug206? Kerry to meet her fuck, didn’t give a hell about me. Then my lift came, idiot, no doubt as your lover ravished you, Bernstein plc style. 
After that crap I went on the dole for nearly a year, 2001. My, it was a sweet time paid for doing frick all but my book “Juniper’s Daughter”. I did other agency work, same old shit but cash went up slightly. Real crapholes like Shiloh by Primetime Placement agency, Primetime hicks. The gelled up prick in a shirt who drove a new Golf said to me: “We have a cushy (crap) job, we can’t seem to fill it. Not sure why?”(You should try this, you idiot). I lasted two weeks, I wonder why? Packing nappies for Welsh pensioners! Guess what? I packed all the wrong ones on purpose, how funny is that? I worked with a professional Bangladeshi gang member who was going straight, after killing a man in a car crash, a psycotic metal head and a burned out 30-year-old ex-rocker. My boss was a cow, he told me off for swearing on my first morning, the idiot. Guess what I did? Went on the dole again and stayed there three long poverty stricken lazy years doing my poems in my mouldy council flat. 
Did a bit more agency work with Esprit agency at DTS—that was okay. I loved working with the girls, some hot ones there! I used to dream about them when I got home. 
Other agency work I did was crap in more ways than one, moving crap for Epping council at Cory Enviromental with New Wave agency, Aug and Sep06. Finished that, onto the dole again, not in smelly Oldham but in posh Essex! How I’ve moved up in the world. Was on it six months. What will I do next? More crap agency work? I’m registered with Blue Arrow, Triangle, Adecco and one I forget. Not got a single day’s work, what does that say? All crap! Run by southerners. 
I won’t mention my temp to perm crap jobs that weren’t agency but here’s a taster – Littlewoods, Glyn Webb, Dunelm and Adomast come on down! I nearly forget, one agency put me down as a fork lift truck driver at a craphole hire and fire ’em place called Metool. Yet I was told I would be a van driver’s mate and then a lorry driver, not flt. What the frick’s going on? I walked out halfway thru my 3rd day. The dole is calling…all crap! 
As the years pass, so do the shit agencies in-between free government cash. After I moved back north I was on the dole for three and a half years. I finally got a job back in the biggest craphole in Oldham - Park Cake Bakery! Run by two agencies, both crap: Gi Group and Alpha. Had an interview with Alpha. Idiot who ran it liked a certain team; I don't. No job. Then Gi Group and I was putting cherries on cakes again. For 11 months I did it before I did my grand walk out and left the dump. 
After that I did some agency courses. Castleview were pleasant Gerordie lasses. Did the course. The promised job interview never turned up. A letdown. Twit! Number 2 agency course was ok. I had the interview but never got the job. Why? Screwing the system. Before I emigrated, I registered with Blue Arrow and did five weeks at Littlewoods, Shaw. Four weeks training to get up to speed, a weeks work including New Year's Day and then laid off! Nobbers! No more agency idiots messing me about doing muppet work. 
I've emigrated out of craphole!


Long poem by Andrey Peysin | Details |

Purity-Love

Freed from my mind
I escape it
I end time
I think it
I think nothing of it
I believe in you
I believe in the American Dream
I think of it
I think nothing
I know you are something
How is it found 
Where are you going
Where are you flowing
the child is christened in the name of beginnings
I think it and it appears
I make it
Golden 
Slow
Shower my notions
Employ my emotions
Destroy my devotion and crush my spirit
Gaunt
So hear it
where do I enjoy you
I see you
How dare you make me feel you
I don't know what to believe but I hear you
I entertain the notion that you are with me
I believe you are near me
But the truth might be sullen
So broken and sudden
Lee...Quite, I train thee
I believe you are not ready
I believe you are rock steady
How quite faulty
You are my enemy
My devoted
My first born
I am so often quoted
who am i
No one
I tell you
I am nothing but me
I dare you
How can I be anything other then me
I am someone who shines
Like it or not I don't care...don't wine
How could you
No you don't know me
You don't show me
I don't believe anything you did anyway
How could I
I am your friend ..not your enemy do I
Look at me
I think of nothing of your desires
I don't care
I think it is so amazing that you think I am flaunting my emotions
I am not
I am devotion
I am heart and saviour
Know my soul
hear it
Feel it and send me on a spirit chasing car ride like a fly trite respite
I think it
Feel me
I think nothing of it
I am enjoying your pain and I suffer
It is so pure that you laugh and I wonder
How could you believe in me
I don't understand thee
You 
I don't get you
How could you be someone I care for and let you
Be me
How do you
I do not know what you do
I just know that you do and you do it well too
How. Destroyer of worlds 
You amaze me
I don't care for your words
I am action word; phase me
Trust
I forgot what it's like
lust
I feel it daily
Like
It or amaze me
plainly
Live die young
and escape me
I am more and more ranked and how does that take me
I don't care about games, I play them too often
I lose quite a bit and enjoy them not too breach it
I think
I wonder
where do you hold regard for my trance verb
I wonder what you'll do next in this causative turd
It is just that
It is just a wonder
I don't care what you do because doing it tears you assunder
Don't
Engage in the enemy
I slink forward and left of me
I see something coming out of you
Something dreadful and something pure
I think it is clean and dirty at the same ****ing time
How can I end it, how can I end this rhyme
I don't actually know, I don't actually care
I wonder where I left my ****ing underwear
Where what who why 
When do I leave the time beat
drummers never learned to retreat
I think they just walk and walk the beat follows
 how could you know the facts when you learned just to swallow
I think...damn girl you know it and you know it well
Question my rythm and cast a damn spell
So..what is left
I think nothing is here for me
But the truth is ...it remains hidden from me
Lolz. I think it is funny as hell
However divine I have never been in it oh well
I think...wait a minute hell is on earth it is not a place deep
it is here and oh damn that curse
I think it is magical, how can it be so ****ing real
I am such a spiel
I think and it happens
It just appeals
I wander
It makes me slender
I think I lost weight when I enter the rhyme world
I enter devine world
I think well oh well how I left it and hell 
It is...Yes it is
It is truly a miss
I am wondering why I have never just kissed ...
you
I am
Wondering
But simply stuttering
I leave myself out of it
I am so plain and cluttering
I think
How dare you make me so plain
I mean
damn girl you hate me too much to say
I think you just wanted to twist the handle deeper
push
I want to make you happy...so just make it hurt
I crush
I think
damn
It is so wonderful
it hurts but it's plainly cursed upon me
I don't care ...just stun me
I am at least careless 
she wanted to just caress
I wanted to make her mine
She wanted to spend my...time
I wanted nothing more and now
I am alone and all the time in the world is left ...shone
I see it
lolz I don't care but I'm deceived by it
I think
How dare you
How can you make me into something or other devine and not like a brother
but really
I am so pure and destruction is so meaningless
I am so feeling less
I think...wait
I can't feel any longer
My heart ripped asunder and I am so blunt
Like an instrument forced by the way you want me t ojust glance at your breasts
but the rest...it's like a beautiful test?
yes.
Just a test
A test in time
I think it is just a rhyme but the truth is I am being tested by G-d 
How could I know what I have done, I have not
When I do it I do it I don't just believe it
I don't care for the rhetoric
I don't deceive it..
I before e except after C and that is the question I place before you
How can you care about appostrophes and comma's 
when there are more important things in life
Like...Love
Isn't that enough?


Long poem by J. W. M. Earnings | Details |

In the Arms of Peace-abiding Angels

I don’t know what I know
I fly like an eagle – just go with the flow!
I don’t know what I know
I don’t know what you’re thinking about 
But I can tell you’re puzzled in your own mind
Maybe I can find x2 
Peace in mind 
For you and I to cherish forever
Stop being so introverted!
Be converted
To bravery and put your doubts to bed

It’s strange really
I don’t know what I know seriously 
Storms are brewing in you as clouds lift you higher than where I am
The waves are crash beneath us
But, you’ll be safe and sound
In His hands, you’ll find relief and happiness
It’s quite hard to adjust to change
I don’t know your mind – 
I wish I can read your mind sometimes
It’s about time we rearrange
And fall into the arms of peace-abiding angels

Let’s go…let it go…
Let’s go…let it go…
Let’s embrace
The arms of peace-abiding angels tonight
Tonight, we’ll seek divine flight
We will make it in no time
Let yourself dance 
To the rhythm of my heart
Let’s go with the flow of the midnight breeze
Promise me you won’t tear this heart apart
You’re not alone, the sunrays will melt away the freezing anxiety 
And put your mind and heart at ease
The peace-abiding angels created the playful sunrays 
With God’s helping hand
You’re the butterflies that admire my presence
I know I might sound corny or dense!
I throw my hands sky-high
Happy-go-lucky parrots pass us by 
I wish I were them right now

I scream gallantly: 
“TAKE AWAY THE PAIN,
DRIPPING LIKE ACID RAIN!”
Lightning flashes and a storm tries to suck us in
But, we’re safe and sound
 In the arms of the peace-abiding angels
We’re above the ground
Overflowing with heavenly miracles
Grant us peace in mind…
Before we become blind
Just like the rest of the inhabitants in the World of Woe
I don’t know my selfish deeds
No more doubting or sinning, plant seeds
Of faith and erase your uncertainty
Fall into the arms of the peace-abiding angels
Spread your wings and trace ecstasy 

I don’t know you anymore! 
How come you’re the only one that I adore? 
Let the angels take us to cloud seven
Don’t you know that being with you is like rejoicing in heaven?

It’s funny that I noticed you in the near future
You’re caught in the whirling fantasies
I can see you, far off in the distance…is there any hope to nurture? 
You’re as puny as an ant 
It’s weird to admit, but I kissed the wicked lips of the abyss
Who said I can’t?

I don’t know my selfish deeds
No more doubting or sinning, plant seeds
Of faith and erase your uncertainty
Fall into the arms of the peace-abiding angels
Spread your wings and trace ecstasy 

I don’t know what I know
But, I know for certain that you’re walking on your own in victory
I don’t know what I know…
I don’t understand what I see…
Do I witness peace? Confusion? Catastrophe? 

I don’t know my selfish deeds
No more doubting or sinning, plant seeds
Of faith and erase your uncertainty
Fall into the arms of the peace-abiding angels
Spread your wings and trace ecstasy 

I don’t know your motives or intentions, but your purpose is shown, you see
In my eyes, they’re wicked and free
Stop being so insecure!
Be careful! Make sure
To say your little prayers tonight – it would act as a cure
To this dirty heart of mine, basking in sinful lust – it’s so impure

Dance freely…let go gaily
Dance freely… be filled with glee 
Let’s embrace
The arms of peace-abiding angels tonight
Tonight, we’ll seek divine flight
We are caught up in a trance
Do me a favor and depart
From the morbid nightfall, 
Hunting down our delightful light and innocence 
To the rhythm of my heart
Let’s go with the flow and ride on the back of a happy Hippogriff 
Promise me you won’t look down or behind you!
You’re not alone, the sunrays will melt away the freezing anxiety 
And put your mind and heart at ease
Accept your gifts and talents and 
Jump with joy!
You and I will jump into the arms of the peace-abiding angels
The peace-abiding angels created the playful sunrays 
With God’s helping hand
I throw my hands sky-high
Happy-go-lucky parrots pass us by 
Wave goodbye to our past and let’s fulfill our future as it gives us a natural high
It’ll boost us high and we’ll cry
Happy tears and we won’t know why!

I don’t know if we’re meant for each other
No more doubting or wasting time, plant seeds
Of faith and gain assurance
Fall into the arms of the peace-abiding angels
Go to them for any problem and they’ll help us in an instance!
Spread your wings in confidence and embrace ecstasy with me!

Kiss the doubt and darkness farewell
You’ll find another companion…oh well x2
Be converted
To bravery and put your doubts to bed
Soon enough, you’ll find your true love this splendid night
I know 100% that you’ll survive this dangerous plight
With the peace-abiding angels and I by your side
For the meantime, don’t cower away and hide – 
Fight the Good Fight!  


Long poem by J. W. M. Earnings | Details |

My Beloved Disease - Let's Dance to the Music

Verse 1:

P!nk: Ohhh mmmm… 
You’re beyond brilliant…
Me: You’re so extremely exquisite…you amaze me – you get 
the hint? Our love is a fiery rose…and like a daffodil flower, 
it grows
Hmmmm mmm…
Rihanna: All along, I was in denial…
Beyonce/P!nk/me: But I’m singing this lullaby with a touch 
of wildness and surreal style…
I’m going with the flow and I go wherever I go – that’s just 
part of it
That’s just part of me…so, don’t envy me 
Rihanna: Go where the wicked wind do blow
Me: I’m a victim to my alienated ambition
I see your true colors show and I glow when I see fit…
Beyonce: I’m going with the flow and I go wherever I go – 
that’s just part of it
That’s just part of me…so, don’t envy me 
Go where the wicked wind do blow
Me: I’m a victim to my alienated ambition
I see your true colors show and I glow when I see fit…
Your auras change color and it stimulates my eyes
Your truth ain’t tainted with abominable lies

*Chorus* 

That’s my satisfying decision…you’re an addiction
I gottah keep pace to run this race the right way…
Alright, you’re making my day
Satisfaction is ours, baby…
Can you see it like fireworks in the sky?
Did you ever wish to be free
Like those mockingbirds and jays in the aqua-blue sky? 
You and I will receive the ability to fly
The ability to show off our inner glow…yah know…soooo…
And we’ll be putting up a show…yah know…yah know…let the 
wicked wind blow…oooh ahhahah ohhh…
Take away my flaws…
And give me a big applause
Let go of all worries
Gather around me, my stinging, beautiful bees…
I get pleasure off of your applauses…giving me satisfaction…
I feel like I’m top dog right now!

Verse 2:

Katy Perry: I’m stingy to the core
But, I ain’t bore…or an attention whore
You tore up my heart…and yah broke it apart…you have no 
heart… Rihanna: Oooh…ohohoh you were my beloved 
disease – but, now you’re a cancer, growing in my heart
Rihanna/Katy: You hated on me from the start
P!nk: But, I (yah) gottah get up and try and try and try…x2
Oooh…ohohoh you were my disease
You put my heart, body and mind at ease…So please…so 
please…so please…
Don’t leave me brokenhearted…this scene won’t play
Hey! Hey! What do yah think you’re doing? Stop acting all 
stupid, ok? 
Oh oh! Aawww oh oh!
You put my heart, body and mind at ease…P!nk: So pretty, 
pretty please…so please…so pretty, pretty please…
Don’t leave me brokenhearted…this scene won’t play – stop 
being a tease – I won’t succumb to YOUR disease
Katy Perry: I’m stingy to the core
But, I ain’t bore…or an attention whore
You tore up my heart
You hated on me from the start
Rihanna: Oooh…ohohoh you were my disease
You put my heart, body and mind at ease…
Me: You’re my fantasy – you’re just that fancy & fantastic…
so epic…
Rihanna/me: You’re perfect just the way you are – you didn’t 
blow it and you’re amazing, so admit it – let’s dance to the 
music

(Lady Gaga:  UNSUPPORTED CODE  
Boom da boom doom da-doom boom! X2)

(all should chant this: Give me your all…your all…stand tall – 
give me your all! 
Give me your best shot…give it your your all…I’ll catch you if 
you fall!)

*Chorus*

That’s my satisfying decision…you’re an addiction
I gottah keep pace to run this race the right way…
Alright, you’re making my day
Satisfaction is ours, baby…
Can you see it like fireworks in the sky?
Did you ever wish to be free
Like those mockingbirds and jays in the aqua-blue sky? 
You and I will receive the ability to fly
The ability to show off our inner glow…yah know…soooo…
And we’ll be putting up a show…yah know…yah know…let the 
wicked wind blow…oooh ahhahah ohhh…
Take away my flaws…
And give me a big applause
Let go of all worries
Gather around me, my stinging, beautiful bees…
I get pleasure off of your applauses…giving me satisfaction…
I feel like I’m top dog right now!
*Bridge*
P!nk: Pretty, pretty please…so please…so pretty, pretty 
please…
Don’t leave me brokenhearted…this scene won’t play – stop 
being a tease – I won’t succumb to YOUR disease
Rihanna/Beyonce: Hey! Hey! What do yah think you’re 
doing? Fine – go ahead and do yo thang, honey…
Stop acting all stupid, ok, boy? You be cruising with your 
gang…
Oh oh! Aawww oh oh! You’re a funny guy! 
Beyonce: You’re interesting beyond reason and logic…our 
love ain’t plastic
You’re not another brick in the wall…you can’t fix what’s 
broken
Rihanna: Where have you been? Where have you been? I’ve 
been searching around for you – feeling this anguish 
adrenalin again and again
Rihanna: hmmm oooh… You were and always will be my 
beloved disease…
So, please don’t say otherwise – you put my mind at ease…
you are the blessed breeze…
Sweeping across my face…
Oh boy, you aren’t a disgrace…


Long poem by frank halliwell | Details |

Blossom

                                      Blossom
                                                                              Frank Halliwell

Just grab a seat on that stump lad, and I'll take centre stage,
With a yarn about a small brown donk, and a lad about your age.
And thanks much for the offer, but I'll give the beer a miss,
I've got half a cup of coffee here, and I'll be drinking this.

One afternoon, just as the sun was starting to go down,
Dad chased him on an errand, to the little shop in town.
Now this young fella blazed along, the old ute fairly flew,
About as close to the speed o' light as the four wheel drive would do.

And as he roared up a small hill, just standing past the top,
Was a jenny donk with a half grown foal, and the young lad couldn't stop.
The jenny was the closest and she took the deadly blow,
But her body saved her little one, although she'd never know.

The young lad checked the jenny out, but she'd begun the flow,
To that great green meadow in the sky, where all the donkeys go.
The foal was badly bashed up, with her hide all torn and slashed,
But her eyes were bright and she might be right...stitched up where she was gashed.

So he huffed and puffed and heaved and swore, and he got her in the back,
And he set out for the vet that lived a bit further down the track.
And the vet, he laboured mightily to save that battered foal,
And by dawn's first light after that long night, he finally reached his goal.

So young lad took the small donk home, and in the course of time,
They left the territory, for Queensland's sunny clime.
He finished up in barracks, for the company took him in,
And gave him work, down in the mine, scratchin' round for tin.

He'd seen the poincianas bloom, their crimson flowers aflame,
And so he called her 'Blossom', and that became her name.
Now the Isa's not the most thrilling place there is along the track,
So he taught young Blossom a trick or two, to help take up the slack.

To stand with forelegs on his shoulders, (gawd, that lad was game!)
And to stretch out on an empty bunk, a trick that brought her fame.
For the common ass is pretty smart, her funny looks aside,
And she soon preferred the soft-sprung bed to the cold hard dirt outside.

And though the blokes would chase her out when time had come for rest.
She'd soon sneak back through the open door to the bed she liked the best
And most of the guys didn't really mind, and felt a little quiet pride,
In this funny donk who made them laugh, but left her souvenirs outside.

Ah yes, and she had one more quirk, that I'll add to this log,
On a hot day, she'd walk up to you, and lick you, like a dog.
I guess it was a need for salt, that's found in many forms
To fill her need she found a source on miners sweaty arms.

Now the office took a new man on, and assigned him to his shift,
To start on monday morning, at the number seven lift.
And this was friday, fairly late, so with the weekend free,
He took his wad and went to town, to celebrate, you see.

So several hours later, and much the worse for wear.
This fella staggered back again, without a single care.
He managed to remove his clothes, with a lot of crashing sound,
Then held on tight with knuckles white, as the room went round and round

Eventually he fell asleep as the booze turned out his light,
And Blossom, at the same time, gave up grazing for the night.
She came on tiptoe down the room, as only donkeys can.
And gazed in silent disbelief at this new, intruding man.

Who'd taken without sanction, her comfy little bed.
And left our donk with no good place to rest her weary head.
She put her head down close to his and snuffled in his ear
Well then, perhaps a slurp or two, might bring him past the beer.

At last in desperation, she put her lips up to his ear
And loosed a mighty donkey's bray, that those in town could hear,
And followed with a lot of slurps to help her win the toss,
And ensure that he would stay alert 'till she got her point across.

Yes lad, I woke in terror, and much dismay at those
Two big brown eyes like dinner plates, and enormous roman nose.
And ears like radar dishes and a voice like a cannon's roar.
So I up, and out, and down the road, and I run for a mile or more.

So that was when I took the pledge and swore right off the grog.
And vowed that I'd spend no more nights in alcoholic fog.
And when I feel that stirring urge, I'll go out and get some grub,
And never, never, ever, chat up sheilas in a pub.

I've spent lots of nights, out on the grog, when we had got our pay,
And woke beside some dreadful dogs, come the cold gray light of day.
But let me tell you matey, no one's ever seen a sight,
Like her that woke me with a kiss, that awful friday night.
                                                ***


Long poem by wala na | Details |

Am I Turning into a Lizard Serial Killer

Hmmm, where do I start? With deep sighs, I am sighing right now.
I just finished burying 2 lizards, and my heart is heavy...

Let me back up a bit...bear with me if I might turn out to be confusing here,
but I just need to write this, release something, in some way
Although I must admit, this is not exactly what I had in mind to write for this day,
hopefully I can write something more decent later...

I have been wanting to write something for my brother since yesterday,
since February 26 is his 10th year death anniversary.
The words remained stuck in my heart, 'til I fell asleep.

Visited him again today, heard mass for him, 
ate a Chinese dinner with my parents and sister, went home.

I now needed dessert. Got a piece of Ferrero Rocher, but just one wouldn't do.
So I got a piece of Almond Roca this time and ate it while walking.

All this time, I have managed to keep my tears away
but maybe somehow, someway, if tears want to fall, they will find a way?

I walk to that area again as I ate that piece of chocolate-
when what do you know, what do you know??

Oh sighs.

I stepped on a lizard.  Again 

Yes. Almost exactly the Same area, tail falls off, and the lizard skitters away.

But. I did not slip this time. But, yes, I still screamed, scaring everybody again.

I. Could. Not. Simply. Believe. IT.

One month and 25 days after, I step on a lizard. Again.

Today, of all days. As if I needed more reason to be sadder.

This time around, I had the sense to try to find that lizard. 
I had to know if it lived, if it was okay.
I pushed away the nearby cabinet.
And there it was.
Rather, and there they were.

The lizard that I stepped on now
and the petrified remains of the lizard that I stepped on on new year's day...
the other one didn't live after all :(

I know it was that lizard, same area, no tail, who else could it be?
Survival mechanism, no match for my killer foot.

By this time, I am crying, sobbing. 
Seriously, the tears just start falling, and my heart so heavy.
And I know it's from the combination of so many things.
The day itself, what I had just done, just things running through me.

What broke my heart, was to see that lizard. 
I was wearing rubber shoes this time, last time I was wearing slippers.
And its guts had spilled from its sides. 
I couldn't help but keep on saying, "Oh, oh, oh lizard, I am so sorry"

I touched it feebly, and it was literally gaping its mouth.
I don't think I can ever forget that?
Such a small creature, gasping, with its insides out, 
its skin on its legs and body scraped.
In pain.
Dying.

And it was all my fault.

My sister was there with me, trying to help in her own way.

But yes, there's nothing you can really do...I didn't want to stress it even more,
and let death finish what I did. 


There's so much I can glean from this, and I want to ramble on, so badly
but I will try to stop myself from rambling too much.

I put the two lizards, along with a note, the dates when I stepped on them 
(ok, killed them), and placed them carefully in a chocolate truffle box.

I buried them and still feel so sorry.

In some ways, this is can be so funny, and just  freaky & crazy (what's new, this is me?)
What were the odds??? Same place, same thing happening.
And I can't help but roll my eyes at myself as well, just finding it so hard to fathom
how I stepped on not just one but Two lizards in just two months.

I bet that the lizards are all afraid of me now, 
saying how I am a lizard killer. A serial lizard killer.
MO: stepping on them while screaming, maybe my screams also killed them off?

I actually took photos of both lizards, I am not sure why though.
Oh dear God, help me, I am acting like one, even documenting them.

I tell you, as I watched that lizard die, I couldn't help but just also
think of St. Jude (for the impossible) and St. Francis of Assisi (for animals).

I know he was dying, but somehow, yes, prayers still comfort me.

I just feel so guilty, with this happening. 

I still can't help but cry for those lizards, death by me, for no reason at all,
no purpose served.

Animals, people....death.

I know it's all a part of life... 
but it still doesn't change the fact how death can change us
and of how I am responsible for two lizard deaths.
I know they were just small animals, but Still. They were living creatures.

Death can change us in small ways, some in big ways, negatively or positively.

It all boils down to death transforming us one way or another...

I won't expound on it anymore, this is too long,
but one of the ways I can think of comparing it to, is that of a chemical change,
maybe of the spirit, the soul? Not merely a physical change.


And we can never be the same. 






022720141207123552


Long poem by frank halliwell | Details |

Blossom

Blossom

Just grab a seat on that stump lad, and I'll take centre stage, 
With a yarn about a small brown donk, and a lad about your age.
And thanks much for the offer, but I'll give the beer a miss, 
I've got half a cup of coffee here, and I'll be drinking this.

One afternoon, just as the sun was starting to go down, 
Dad chased him on an errand, to the little shop in town.
Now this young fella blazed along, the old ute fairly flew, 
About as close to the speed o' light as the four wheel drive would do.

And as he roared up a small hill, just standing past the top, 
Was a jenny donk with a half grown foal, and the young lad couldn't stop.
The jenny was the closest and she took the deadly blow, 
But her body saved her little one, although she'd never know.

The young lad checked the jenny out, but she'd begun the flow, 
To that great green meadow in the sky, where all the donkeys go.
The foal was badly bashed up, with her hide all torn and slashed, 
But her eyes were bright and she might be right...stitched up where she was gashed.

So he huffed and puffed and heaved and swore, and he got her in the back, 
And he set out for the vet that lived a bit further down the track.
And the vet, he laboured mightily to save that battered foal, 
And by dawn's first light after that long night, he finally reached his goal.

So young lad took the small donk home, and in the course of time, 
They left the territory, for Queensland's sunny clime.
He finished up in barracks, for the company took him in, 
And gave him work, down in the mine, scratchin' round for tin.

He'd seen the poincianas bloom, their crimson flowers aflame, 
And so he called her 'Blossom', and that became her name.
Now the Isa's not the most thrilling place there is along the track, 
So he taught young Blossom a trick or two, to help take up the slack.

To stand with forelegs on his shoulders, (gawd, that lad was game!) 
And to stretch out on an empty bunk, a trick that brought her fame.
For the common ass is pretty smart, her funny looks aside, 
And she soon preferred the soft-sprung bed to the cold hard dirt outside.

And though the blokes would chase her out when time had come for rest.
She'd soon sneak back through the open door to the bed she liked the best
And most of the guys didn't really mind, and felt a little quiet pride, 
In this funny donk who made them laugh, but left her souvenirs outside.

Ah yes, and she had one more quirk, that I'll add to this log, 
On a hot day, she'd walk up to you, and lick you, like a dog.
I guess it was a need for salt, that's found in many forms
To fill her need she found a source on miners sweaty arms.

Now the office took a new man on, and assigned him to his shift, 
To start on monday morning, at the number seven lift.
And this was friday, fairly late, so with the weekend free, 
He took his wad and went to town, to celebrate, you see.

So several hours later, and much the worse for wear.
This fella staggered back again, without a single care.
He managed to remove his clothes, with a lot of crashing sound, 
Then held on tight with knuckles white, as the room went round and round

Eventually he fell asleep as the booze turned out his light, 
And Blossom, at the same time, gave up grazing for the night.
She came on tiptoe down the room, as only donkeys can.
And gazed in silent disbelief at this new, intruding man.

Who'd taken without sanction, her comfy little bed.
And left our donk with no good place to rest her weary head.
She put her head down close to his and snuffled in his ear
Well then, perhaps a slurp or two, might bring him past the beer.

At last in desperation, she put her lips up to his ear
And loosed a mighty donkey's bray, that those in town could hear, 
And followed with a lot of slurps to help her win the toss, 
And ensure that he would stay alert 'till she got her point across.

Yes lad, I woke in terror, and much dismay at those
Two big brown eyes like dinner plates, and enormous roman nose.
And ears like radar dishes and a voice like a cannon's roar.
So I up, and out, and down the road, and I run for a mile or more.

So that was when I took the pledge and swore right off the grog.
And vowed that I'd spend no more nights in alcoholic fog.
And when I feel that stirring urge, I'll go out and get some grub, 
And never, never, ever, chat up sheilas in a pub.

I've spent lots of nights, out on the grog, when we had got our pay, 
And woke beside some dreadful dogs, come the cold gray light of day.
But let me tell you matey, no one's ever seen a sight, 
Like her that woke me with a kiss, that awful friday night. 
Frank Halliwell
Submitted: Sunday, September 28, 2008


Long poem by Erin Soares-Anselmi | Details |

My fifty years in a nut shell

I was born fifty years ago on April 10th 1964
Looking back through the years I began to explore

My mama said when it was time for me to be born
I decided to come early and fast in the wee morn

Born five week premature with jaundice I had to stay
High fevers, convulsions and even a coma would come my way

But by the grace of God I made it through each and every one
I could have died before my life really started or even begun.

And through my fifty years God has shown me grace and mercy 
As I look back I’m so glad he loved me and thought of me worthy
 
I remember my first home in Hayward on Burr way
Memories are a little foggy but my sense of home will stay 

Moved to Dixon when I was just four years old
To a big beautiful house where my life started to unfold

This would be the place I would meet my life long best friend
She was playing in our backyard the first day we moved in.

So many memories in this house in Dixon on Marvin way
 A Baby deer named Bambi and our first dog named Maggie mae

My life sized doll house my parents gave me as a birthday surprise
I would spend hours in there with my plastic appliances making mud pies

Life was blissful and I had not a care in the world I was living
Until the day my parents sat us down and said they were splitting

I just remember crying and in total shock this was happening
My parents would no longer be together my whole life unraveling 

We ended up moving to a two story house with mice and peeling paint
Mom worked long hours to feed us four kids who showed no restraint

My mom struggled to balance work and being home with us four
Soon my brothers moved to dads who’s idea was it I’m not sure

My dad died August 19th 1979 at the age of forty from a massive heart attack
I didn’t know then how this would change my life but now can see its full impact

 My teen years were cut short because I decided to become a mom
How scared I was to have to drop “mom, I’m pregnant” bomb

Have you ever heard of the song “Going to the chapel of love?”
Married now at seventeen feeling all grown up; well sort of.


On January 2nd 1982 my daughter Melinda was born fuzzy & screaming
Didn’t know what I was really get into, I must have been dreaming

She was the first baby born of the year and was the winner of two contests
So many prizes couldn’t collect them all but we sure tried to do our best

Isn’t it funny how you imagine how it would all work out in your young mind?
But then reality sneaks up on you and smacks you hard on your behind.

Now a single mother at the age of nineteen and moved back in with my mom
 And throughout my life I will make poor decisions but no need to write every wrong

Pregnant at twenty with my son Joshua and Melinda now two almost three
I didn’t know what I was going to do but knew they deserved better than me

This you see will be the hardest thing I would ever have to do in my life
I chose to give Josh new parents whom I lived with until I said goodbye

I was blessed to have pictures and letters sent through his growing up years
I remember the first letter I received from Josh I was so nervous eyes filled with tears

My son Brandon was born on my mom’s birthday he was my biggest and my last
He was my little dare devil and escape artist who was always trying to get past

He would like to climb out of his crib and sneak out the front door for a stroll
I chained and locked the door and even barred the windows thinking I was in control

Till one day two police officers were at my door wanting to see him and talk to me, I guess
They said a neighbor called out of concern and then the police threaten me with CPS.

I have been married more than my fair share to tell the truth and it’s hard to admit
 I have walked down the aisle six times and finally found the one to whom I commit

TJ is my husband who I met six years ago and have been married to him for three
Unable to have children of his own he now is known fondly as Dad, Padre and Papa T

My grandchildren make me smile just thinking of them and oh how I miss their precious faces
I have eight all together and love each and every one so much my heart had to grow extra spaces

As I look through my mind’s eye and examine my past adventures, blessings and sorrows
I have come to realize to cherish each and every moment because no time can be borrowed



My fifty ….. In a nut shell.

 


 


Long Poems