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Long poem by Victoria Anderson-Throop | Details |

SEX ON A CLOUD

                                                          SEX ON A CLOUD

                                                            (HER STORY)
                                                      She grabbed his voice
                                                     Through conference din
                                                     Sought to win his gaze--
                                              But crowds of gabbers tottered in...

                                        He missed the sexy nod she sent his way--
                                      Distracted by a phone call--
                                                               faded from his day.

                                                         But oh his face....
                                                      Would not be gone....
                                                                 wild
                                                      bony visage--home
                                                          of passion's eyes--
                                                       Fate teased in him
                                                           her Paradise--

                                                           Upward Man
                                                   Brash Upward Plans--
                                             Such a heart must be attached--

                                                       Her stubborn mind
                                                    holds fast to dreams,
                                                         bows to Fate--
                                                   but loathe to schemes....

                                                   She stalked his dreams
                                                       The night is theirs
                                                          Palm to Palm--
                                                    All answered Prayers.

                                                            Eyes exult
                                                      Besieged by bliss--
                                                     becalmed by thoughts
                                                          of moonlit kiss

                                                       she Owns his Face
                                                 sweet charmed caressing
                                                     that leaves no trace
                                                       but silent blessing

                                                              (HIS STORY)
                                                           Over a shoulder
                                                             behind a pole
                                                            he saw a face
                                                     that grabbed his soul
                                                           wild hair so red
                                                       his heart caught fire
                                                          hands of grace
                                                      could capture choirs

                                                          Laugh of bells
                                                       tolled 'cross the hall
                                                       he moved toward her, 
                                                           then had a call--
                                          stepped out in search of quiet space,
                                                           cut short his call--
                                                          yet lost her face.

                                                           She was gone...
                                                            Another man?
                                                            Abysmal sight....
                                                            a f_cking awful
                                                           maddening plight.

                                                         He's lost his chance,
                                                          in town
                                                                      One Night.

                                                         Her essence brands,
                                                         Flays bare his heart--

                                                          But business tugs him
                                                                   Worlds...
                                                                     Seas apart--

                                                                 Mellifluous--
                                                            tho hard to place--
                                                   She's the tune he can't erase.
                                                               
                                                              a love so fierce
                                                              
                                                           Each night they tryst,
                                                            shake clouds above
                                                    grant them every lover's wish
                                                       
                                                              She nuzzles love
                                                            and slips o-er him--
                                                           encased and blessed
                                                              in  Passion's Glove.

V. Anderson-Throop
Sept 2013


Long poem by cassie hellberg | Details |

over and over agin

sometimes i talk to myself, 
my mind is racing,
i dont know what to do...
so hard to explain.
depression isn't a stage
or a faze some kids go through
it shatters you...
i saw it all. 
she cried silent in her bed,
blood stains covered her favorite jeans,
her every shirt,
long sleeve ofcourse...
she suffered through it all with few people to call friend
and more to call enemy
even more to say where quite dissappointed....
FAT
her first name in school,
not started by a bully
or a mean rival,
but by her sister, 
and it echoed through her soul,
repeating in her mind... over and over again,
like the ripples of still water
when a pebble is dropped
flash frozen in time
repeating,
over and over again...
It was the first name they gave her,
millions where created over the years,
some unique
some repeating again, just as the first had..
gothic they called her,
emo, fat, ugly....worse things.
but in her mind, things where worse.
everything was repeating,
over and over again,
finally she believed it. 
she asked for help, from everyone
tried to explain to parents she wasnt well,
got called a psycho for asking to see a theripist,
not from a teacher,
not from a class mate,
but from her own father, who wouldn't, couldn't,
believe there could possibly be a thing wrong....
finally, crying, she confessed her bloody secret to a teacher.
rather then giving her time,
she is sent back to class crying her eyes out, as if she wherent going through enough...
she is sent to the principals office a few minutes later, after breaking down in class...
the princlipal says she needs help,
sends her and her dad for a risk evaluation,
her dads crying as she shows him her cuts...
they walk into a hospital room, 
it smells of chemicals and hand sanitizer,
the lady at the desk gives her a smile.
then she goes into a room with a lady,
her cheeks are sunken in and shes wearing way too much makeup,
the girl is gaging on her perfume,
and she looks really intimidating....
her dark brown hair looks dead and flat
even though its a bit wavy, 
and she wears somewhat of a mocking frown.
asks her all these questions,
is mommy beating her?
no
is daddy raping her?
no
is she doing drugs?
not alot
is anyone beating her?
pass...
did anyone molest her? 
pass....
oxcarbezapine, trazadone, citalipran, clinazapam, colonipan,
valium, lithium, more.......
and thats what they gave her,
more... 
some numbed the pain
some brought it out
tearing through her organs,
she became an addict by the time she was fourteen....
over dose after over dose
some for pleasure
some for pain,
gashes on her legs getting deeper,
this time she didnt tell a soul,
not even those she had come to call friends....
wakeup she screamed in her head over and over again
as she dropped weight like it was nothing....
you cant controll it she argued as things became worse. 
at age fourteen she attempted suicide,
she didnt quite succeed.
the medication took away her aappitite....
she liked it
she hated her body
hated herself
felt out of controll
found a new way to cope
as she shoved tooth brush after toothbrush down her throat
to keep her body from nuitrients...
as she whent weeks and weeks spitting food into napkins and making excuses 
I ate at my friends house....
spoken as a whisper
heard like a sentance
echoing in her mind over and over again,
along with that word, all the words,
FAT!!!!!!
ugy, anoying, stupid, fake, worthless, nothing...
one bite she would say
rocking back and forth
craving nothing but food
her body racked with hunger pain
one bite and there she was again
FAT!
over and over and over again
back to a toothbrush
this time she sees blood
she saw her ribs
she saw her bones,
it wasnt good enough,
she almost died, again....
choking on this deep dissappointment in herself,
gaging on everything they where pushing down her throat, 
their words, and their insults, their criticism.... their drugs
all shoved down her throat like candy
and just as she was was trained to do she swallowed despite the bad taste
or the hurt
or the fact that at the rate she was going she would be dead soon...
and you know why? 
because daddy yelled 
and couldnt accept what was happening
not because he wanted to hurt her
but because it hurt him,
and she let him believe,
because she could take the hurt if it meant he didnt have too.
because mommy didnt want to sit in her room all day
smoking weed
doing nothing,
practically having us raise ourselves,
she didnt mean to take anger, or frustration or hurt out on her daughter
she suffered everyday in her solitary confinement,
and from a young age she accepted her bedroom was the cage
 her mother had created for herself.
because sister didnt want to effect her the way she did
she was just frustrated
fed up with the way things where
scared, she needed someone to take her cruelty
and to help heal her pain...
because people in school
who where so cruel
had to have learned from somewhere
and she wasnt going to play into their games,
and they knew she was an easy target
because she would never attack someone so weak
and she accepted her suffering was a sacrafice
to help all these people....
to help her dad,
her mom,
her sister,
every person who was beaten abused or hurt
 and felt so weak at home they wanted to feel strong in the one safe place they had.
because depite the fact she had died inside,
and almost passed away on the out,
it was a saccrafice she was willing to make
so that no one else would have to feel that kind of pain,
and they all inflicted it and broke her down'untill there was nothing left but a shell
of somthing that could have been
and never had the chance
and why? 
because she would take it and wouldnt strike back,
because sometimes "just taking it"
isnt so much about the weakness not to do anything
but about the strangth not to hurt others the way they hurt you...


Long poem by Laura Breidenthal | Details | . You can read it on PoetrySoup.com' st_url='http://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/light_on_the_devils_chord___the_challenge_622720' st_title='Light On the Devil's Chord - The Challenge'>

Light On the Devil's Chord - The Challenge

My hair bristled in the crisp breeze
Excitement spreading throughout my body
Even the sudden cold amused my fingertips,
Tingles spreading through my hands and up my arms
Soon I would be there too. . .
In the murky shadows of mysterious malice
To see the claws and talons of humanity’s greatest foe
The Prince of Darkness—the Saint of Woe

The great seal remained closed as I stood before it
Not a peep was heard from inside

“Knock, and it will be opened to you . . . “

Lightly, my fist clunked three times upon the great seal,
And a horrendous echo resounded like muffled shrieks of suffering
Black ooze leaked out of the seal as I lifted my fist
A great closed pot of tender meat and chow boiling over,
The spicy hot substance steaming the long grass surrounding the well-like prison

Then a voice, like Queen Bee birth resounded,
Stinging me fiercely, body and soul, having me sway…
To a familiar song
I had listened to long ago:

“Iiiii… ain’t got no-booooooody…. 
And no-body cares…foooor meeee…”

The song continued as the seal opened fully,
As I began descending into the restless night of his voice
Both lulled and perturbed
The sumptuous layers of shrieks, his background band
Gurgles of thundering bass,
And strums of laughter from throats long wailing… 

“Aaaaaaaand.. I’m sad and loooooooonely… 
Won’t some-body…come takah chance with meeee..
Owhhh…?” 

In what seemed like an eternal moment,
I had landed in the very bottom of the boiling ooze
The music ceased, and the great seal slipped over,
Blocking the view of the stars. . .
Yes, above. . .now only darkness
As if heaven, to Satan, was hell. . .

He turned to me slowly, knowingly
A smile creeping on his filthy face, from ear to ear
A charming set of teeth, freshly sung mouth
Arrogant brow rising in mock surprise. . .
A gruff laugh escaped his lips as my heart beat faster
And I thought to myself,

“What have I gotten myself into?”
. . .
The words popped out of my mouth before my mind could object,
And he exploded in a fit of charming guffaws
I heard a sea of laughter follow his own
Even Death, in the far corner of prison, winked. . .amused

“That’s the funniest thing I’ve heard in years, 
Dearest Daughter of Eve. . .  I’m impressed . . . really, I am. . .”

“You are?”

His smile faded and his expression grew grim and cold
“Well . . . are you?”

I remained silent, and took a deep breath
What shall I say to the Devil himself?
Am I clever enough? Brave enough?

“Impressed, I mean. . .well?
Are you? 
I know you will not lie to me,
You wouldn’t dream of it. . .
You wouldn’t dream nasty dreams like times in your past days. . .
Or. . .would you. . .Daughter of Eve.
Would you dare. . .dream of me. . .”

I felt a claw hit me on the back of my neck
I remained still, my breathing cradled by the silence. . .
I moved closer to him, never blinking,
As his coal eyes burned deeply into mine

Suddenly, he was furious
“You dare give me silence, woman!?
After my years of devastating . . . tormenting my own, 
Just to see and hear them screech and tremble. . .
Of no aim but to crush this criminal quiet,
You…a woman of no power…or little to show, 
Come down to me, ME. . .whom you know hates you all. . .
You come down to me, The Almighty Devil of Hatred,
With your dull . . . infuriating . . . pathetic, disgusting. . .
Silence……?”

I sighed. . .
“I. . .I don’t know why I am here. . .with you. . .perhaps it is a test. . .a lesson. . .
But I do know what I want. . .”

His claw dug deeper into my skin. . .
“Oh, that’s a new one. . .
But you. . .hm, hard to play with. . .? I doubt it. 
Easy to trick. . .surely. . .
If there was a point. . .”

Deeper the claw dug into my skin, but my flesh refused to break

I smiled at him softly, and this seemed to disturb him completely
He looked at me numbly, an impassive stare
 Devoid of feeling and emotion

And I said to him,
“I want you to sing and play us a song you have never sung before,
Prince of Darkness. . .”

His grimy skin rippled at the opportune challenge. . .
His eyes drew out all confidence and pride swirling in the shadows
His smile, big again, fresh, and repugnant
He smelled of all things dead, and all things putrid

“Plug in the bass, Death.
I am going to dissolve this fluttery woman right where she stands.”

I stopped him, possessed with an idea
I bit my lip and removed his claw from my neck
Taking his hand for a moment, and pushing it to him

“One more thing, Devil.”

He rolled his eyes. “Of course. . .what is it?”

“. . .I’m singing with you.”

The demons roared in hilarity, as Death, 
Silent as always kept his composure

Satan tilted his head at me as the laughter died
He no longer contained his surprise
“You. . .want to. . .make music. . .with me?”

“I’ve got 40 days and 40 nights. . .don’t you be a killjoy.”

He smiled at me, fury and lust in his eyes
“Angel charms will not work down here, babe. . .
I rarely play fair. . . .but I never turn down a challenge.”

My strange purpose had surfaced at last
“Quit your stalling then, and turn up the music.”

--------------------------

Song reference: “I Have Nobody” specifically sung by Leon Redbone
**Please tell me what you thing guys! If you haven’t read the other parts, it might explain things a bit. This is going to be a major work, and I’d loved all the advice I can get. I am aware that collaborating with The Devil is a tricky feat, and I’d really love some input. Thanks for reading. Lots of love! –Oh, and also, I am thinking of changing the title of the work as well. Not sure what yet!


Long poem by Debbie Duncan | Details |

BY THE SEA

PART One,,,, as she saw it.


The mountains and the meadows were always so beautiful this time of year.
 It seemed as if a fresh new world always came to life. The high cliffs turned sharply downward.  As I sat listening to the ocean tides smashing against the walls of the mountain below. There was a mild breeze blowing from the south. The grass in the flower covered meadows moved with the breeze. The sun shined so brightly I thought it would melt me at times.

As I stood up from the log where I was sitting by the emerald forest, the breeze pressed my dress against me. It formed to the soft round curves of my breast, down through the curves of my waist pushing against my yielding hips. As I blinked from the sun, I saw him there in the distance. I had thought I was alone. But there he was,  starring straight at me. What would I do and where could I turn? I knew what kinds of thoughts men had, my mother told me all about them. I saw that he was beginning to move my way !

 I saw him there as he saw me. I was paralyzed, not knowing what direction to move. Though as I watched him from afar, he did not seem dangerous as my mother always warned. Still, I could hear her words like a tape recorder in the back of my mind.
               
 Should I dare take my eyes from his? I could see his eyes were dark, maybe brown, or even midnight blue.  What ever the color, I could tell they were smoldering with restrained passions. His hair was long to his shoulder blades. I knew that because it moved with the wind.  He had broad shoulders with long legs. I knew I must not let him reach me. If his arms entangled me , surely I would never get loose. And, I'm not sure I would want too. Even though I heard the words of my mother, running in my head.
 I could feel the tiny  beads of sweat trickling down between my breasts. I was not sure I should take my eyes from him as I leaned down to pick up the fan that had slipped from my hand to my bare feet.

PART ONE,,,, As he saw it .

  The winter snow had melted and yielded to the bright warming rays of the spring sun.  The bears had come out of hibernation with their  new born looking for food. The mountains and the meadows were born again, new, fresh and alive with life.  Everything was beautiful and as it should be. Birds singing, their mating songs blended with the crash of the surf against the steep cliffs of the mountain. Nature was at peace with itself, and I came here to share in this peace.  To be alone with the earth, or so I thought.  

I found a place to sit on the grass hidden among the flowers in the high meadows.  So I could enjoy the gentle breeze blowing while watching the forest animals. The warm sun caressed my body and warmed me. It was a prefect day, yet something was missing. A day like this needed to be shared with someone, someone special.  Stretching,  I caught a slight movement out of the corner of my eye, just across the enchanted forest. Of a beautiful women. It couldn't be possible as no one knew of this place. I had come here for years and had never seen a another person before. Yet, there she was. Dressed in a dress the wind made love to, pressing it to her body. Clinging to the sensual curves of her breast, down to her firm waist and full inviting hips. I suddenly felt drawn to her and stood up. I knew she had seen me as she was starring back at me, as I stood staring back at her. She was a vision. And I was afraid she would vanish if I approached her. Yet, she seemed to be smiling, calling to me as I started walking towards her. I remember the stories my grandmother had told me of the enchantresses that lived in this forest, but I did not hesitate. I would give to her anything she wanted, anything she desired.

As I approached her I realized she was real. She seemed to be looking at me, daring me to come closer. All the stories of the enchantress my grandmother had told me flooded my mind with a warning. Yet, she was so beautiful, so inviting  and I couldn't take my eyes from her. I was slowly losing control with each and every step that brought me closer to her. I knew I was lost as I felt the heat of my desire to be with her, starting to take control. It was a struggle not to run to this beautiful creature , with the golden hair, and angelic face.  As I came closer I couldn't help but notice her sensual breasts rising and falling with each breath she took. She seemed to be smiling, challenging me with everything that made her a beautiful, desirable woman. A woman this sensual, this beautiful, this desirable was surely the enchantress, and I was hers. As a bee is drawn to the flower, I was being drawn to this women.

Suddenly she reached down to pick something up. It was just then I noticed she was barefoot.  As she bent over to retrieve what she had dropped, the sun reflected off her spun gold hair. and radiated a golden brightness that was almost blinding.  Her dress shifted  allowing me to see that her body enhanced her dress, rather then the dress enhancing her body. She would look beautiful in anything she wore.  The heat of my desire for her was beginning to consume me with it's fire. I felt the beginnings of ,,,,,,,,,,   

   

   Nov. 18 1992,,,, Short story I started to write, A friend ask if he could write from a males point of view.


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

My Robotic Fantasy

Livin’ in filth…
Flippin’ out on everyone…
Pow! to my head. Pow! to my head.
Hand me a gun…gun…
Was livin’ my dream
Once in a great while
Was dyin’ in reality
Run just one more mile

*whisper* What am I s’posed to do?
Sit there and cry?
Why am I sick with dem luv flu?
Why do I lie…
TO MYSELF!?

I put my mind into my work
Sorry for acting like a total jerk
That’s so abserk
Stressed out
Dry as a drought
But, I fought the battles that were wondering in my head
The attitude of gratitude drench me not with dread

Livin’ in a robotic fantasy 
Livin’ in a robotic fantasy
Livin’ in a robotic fantasy
Livin’ in a…
Livin’ in a-a-a-a…
Livin’ in a robotic fantasy…
I speak in rhythm
I speak to them
A sweet talk of non-insanity
I’m sane 
On another lane
I’m sane 
On another lane
I’m sane
On another lane…

Was livin’ my dream
Once in a great while
Was dyin’ in reality
Run just one more mile

*whisper* What am I s’posed to do?
Sit there and cry?
Why am I sick with dem luv flu?
Why do I lie…
TO MYSELF!?

Nervous reaction…I talk with no action…
My dreams will be fulfilled with satisfaction…
Give me a fraction of your satisfaction…
GIVE ME A FRACTION OF YOUR……….satisfaction…..
Satisfaction…
Shun out the light of the moon
Happiness will hunt me down soon

Livin’ in a robotic fantasy 
Livin’ in a robotic fantasy
Livin’ in a robotic fantasy
Livin’ in a…
Livin’ in a-a-a-a…
Livin’ in a robotic fantasy…
I speak in rhythm
I speak to them
A sweet talk of non-insanity
I’m sane 
On another lane
I’m sane 
On another lane
I’m sane
On another lane…

Society splintered my hope…
I was addicted to you like people hooked on dope

Was livin’ my dream
Once in a great while
Was dyin’ in reality
Run just one more mile

*whisper* What am I s’posed to do?
Sit there and cry?
Why am I sick with dem luv flu?
Why do I lie…
TO MYSELF!?

Was livin’ my dream
Once in a great while
Was dyin’ in reality
Run just one more mile

*whisper* What am I s’posed to do?
Sit there and cry?
Why am I sick with dem luv flu?
Why do I lie…
TO MYSELF!?

Decorate me with the finest gold
I am young, yet I have a mind of an old, old
Man, why does this pain drive me into insanity?
Can I be free for once in a lifetime?
Fairies dance before my eyes…
Flowers bloom before my eyes…
The grass is greener on the other side…
Stay by my side…don’t subside from my side, my beautiful bride
I’m crucified by these scars on my body…
Everybody stares at me…………….me…………me……….
Put a stop to this sorrow in my heart…
It’s ripping me apart…and I’m drifting in the death cart
Breathe into me your sunlit glee
Breathe into me your bittersweet envy
Breathe into me good traits from the Lord
He struck a chord within me…an accord I can’t afford

Livin’ in a robotic fantasy 
Livin’ in a robotic fantasy
Livin’ in a robotic fantasy
Livin’ in a…
Livin’ in a-a-a-a…
Livin’ in a robotic fantasy…
I speak in rhythm
I speak to them
A sweet talk of non-insanity
I’m sane 
On another lane
I’m sane 
On another lane
I’m sane
On another lane…

Was livin’ my dream
Once in a great while
Was dyin’ in reality
Run just one more mile

*whisper* What am I s’posed to do?
Sit there and cry?
Why am I sick with dem luv flu?
Why do I lie…
TO MYSELF!?

Was livin’ my dream
Once in a great while
Was dyin’ in reality
Run just one more mile

*whisper* What am I s’posed to do?
Sit there and cry?
Why am I sick with dem luv flu?
Why do I lie…
TO MYSELF!?

Drive this pain away from the scars I have on my skin
Shedding awful thoughts of suicide from within

*whisper* I want my own family
To smile with them gladly
Prescribe me happiness from up above
I’m 17 years old and not acting my age…fly away, dear beloved dove
Nervouscited as hell’s fire, coursing inside of me again
Drowning in my tears again…let the journey of life begin
Getting rid of golden….desire….
You dumped me in the trash bin…let the fire
Burn your soul to the ground
Like ashes, you fall without a sound

Livin’ in a robotic fantasy
Livin’ a robotic fantasy
Relivin’ God’s way of life
Forgetting the past’s strife…
It slices me open like a knife

*whisper* What am I s’posed to do?
Sit there and cry?
Why am I sick with dem luv flu?
Why do I lie…
TO MYSELF!?
*whisper* What am I s’posed to do?
Sit there and cry?
Why am I sick with dem luv flu?
Why do I lie? Why do I cry? 
Why do I hide from my obsessions of plenty?
Don’t you see the roaring sea?
Please, God, hear my plea………
My grief-stricken, faithful plea……..
Heal me
Steal away the pain
I was the thief in the night
I was watching the scenes of temporary lust –
The pornography of life turns to dust
My heart yearns for You alone
Don’t gnaw at me like a dog with his bone 

Hold on, dear friend
The pain will have its end


Long poem by Maurice Rigoler | Details |

Coyote

(This is the final section to my long narrative on
the final hours of a coyote lost in a blizzard after
a day of failures.)



 The snow had deepened, deeper than he 
had ever known it, scraping his underbelly 
as he moved with difficulty.  With each 
step his feet sank deeper into the snow, so that
with each painful step he had to lift each leg 
higher in order to move forward, each step 
requiring greater effort, greater willpower. 
The exertion was sapping his energy,
his vital forces severely reduced. He was 
stopping frequently, as much to conserve 
his dwindling strength as to ease the pain 
each step inflicted on him.
     How far he had moved away from the pond, 
he could not tell. There was only darkness,
falling snow, and whirling wind. He had
lost his sense of time, and now his direction
and orientation. The pain, the cold, the wind
had distracted him, had led him astray 
at his weakest. Lifting his head, he looked 
about for signs of the woods, sniffed for 
their familiar scent, but there was only snow, 
only whirling wind. He had, in fact, veered
away from the direction of the woods 
and was now somewhere in the open field, 
surrounded by an amorphous space of snow, 
wind and darkness. Uncertain of his every step,
he began to yelp and whimper, like a pup
for its mother; but his cries were quickly 
sucked into the maelstrom of whirling snow 
and wind. His instincts told him he could 
not stand still; that he must move on, push himself. 
     Moving in the snow was arduous, an act 
of defiance and survival against forces 
that seemed bent on his destruction. The snow
had risen almost to his throat, and he had 
to keep his head up for fear of suffocating, 
as if he were wading in deep water. 
Finally, and without resistance, he sensed 
he could go on no longer, and he came to 
a complete stop, unable to climb out 
of the deep snow that now threatened to 
bury him. Panting heavily he dropped 
his nose in the snow, exhausted as he 
had never known exhaustion, even after 
a spirited chase. And he began to feel 
himself drifting: a sensation of going 
downward, sinking, then floating, as if 
his vital forces were leaving him of 
their own accord, seeping through his 
underbelly, then further down to depths 
unknown to him, something not unlike 
that fear and terror that grip humans when 
they are about to die.
        With one last heroic effort, he tried 
to extricate himself from his prison of snow, 
but it was futile. He was trapped, as though
embedded in stone, and resigned himself 
to his fate – a concept his canine mind could 
never have conceived – incapable as he was 
of making any rational sense of his circumstances 
or predicament. And in that state he waited 
like one condemned to certain death, shaking 
only his head now and then to rid the snow 
from his face and ears.
     The extreme cold began to penetrate 
his pelt, displacing what little heat remained
in him. A numbness set in, first in his feet, 
then slowly overtaking the upward cavity 
of his body. It was the final coup de grace, 
merciful, but a tragic betrayal of Nature 
and all the forces at her disposal 
with which, until now, she had so carefully 
shaped and honed this coyote into a superb 
hunter and killer. Now, for reasons all 
her own, reasons hidden in the vast 
and dark inscrutible wisdom, she had 
turned away, like a cruel and careless mother 
abandoning her offspring.
     At some point during the storm, the snow
had turned into a rain of hail, and a shell 
of ice had formed over the exposed portion 
of the coyote’s body. He was becoming 
drowsy, sleep not far off. His body seemed 
detached from him, his legs and feet no 
longer there. Then, somewhere in the whirling
darkness, he heard the muffled ruckus 
of beating wings, perhaps a flock of quail
lost in flight, or perhaps only the wind. 
Whatever it was, it didn’t matter anymore.
His eyes now iced over and his ears
filled with snow, the clicking sound of tiny 
ice pellets striking his frozen pelt were 
barely audible. He offered a final yelp,
lame in its effort, then felt the only world 
he had ever known collapsing beneath him 
and calmly he drifted down into some vast, 
unending ambience of silence all living 
creatures eventually go to, relinquishing 
once and for all whatever his unknown 
Maker had once given him, that splendid sum 
of everything he once had been as coyote.


Long poem by Carol Eastman | Details |

A Spark of Hope

A little girl lost her home this year, for her, Christmas wouldn't be there.
Her family was angry from all the troubles, they simply couldn't repair.
Don’t bother us about presents her parents said, they were depressed by their fate.
With bitterness they said, you’d be lucky to have dinner tonight, or even a plate.
Life was harsh, nowhere to go, anger and fear had put their souls, in a terrible place.
The little girl had found no hope or joy, lurking near their old car, of late.
The car was their home, gas money was scarce, and with few places they could park.
Yes, their troubles had slowly extinguished, that precious hopeful spark.
Without that spark, they’d never find their way, from this terrible place of cold and dark.
And life’s darkness grew deeper nightly, as hope vanished under a reality so stark.
Even the very fiber of her family, seemed to be shattering slowly, slowly, apart.
The child felt alone here in this dark car, as sadness tried to engulf her little girls heart.
The future seemed filled with hopelessness, as shame and dread, were leaving their mark.
Embarrassment to be seen and turned away, made it hard for them to reach out, to restart.
But life goes on, and we can’t fear to rebuild, or the future will be hard to impart.
The girl suddenly declared there’s more to life, and she wouldn't let it conquer her heart.
She decided triumphs will come, and all will get better, if she held to that hopeful spark.
Seeing the desolation and anger here, she couldn't stay around, she had to get away…
So she climbed out of the car, and she walked into town, not so very far to stray.
She went and looked at the store windows, where Christmas was being displayed.
The music and people filled her heart, lifting her spirits, deep inside, that day.
She noticed a store, way down at the end of the row, on the next block, where it lay.
No one was there, it seemed lonely, and the darkness was again, spreading it’s decay.
She ran there in time to see an old man closing up, with sadness on his face betrayed.
What use were his goods, if no one would shop, or come down along his way?
The super store down the block, was daily making him lose more and more in the fray.
He could no longer afford to hire people, and the season had very little time, to stay.
As they talked the girl saw that she couldn't let the darkness take another, so she prayed.
Then she told the old man, if he’d open the shop, she’d bring customers down his way.
She added, she’d find reasonable workers, if her family could live upstairs, she portrayed.
First bring the customers, he said, and the rest will be yours little friend, he conveyed.
She had him put his best toys, as a contest prize, and to add lots of lights on the display.
He set a contest, “Winners-the best collectors for families in need” on Christmas Eve.
He put out a bright contest sign, but still nobody came to his end of the block, to survey.
So she had him call the Salvation Army, for a kettle, Bell ringer, and Carolers, who came 
Lickety split, their way.
Then she had him call a dear old friend, and farmer, to bring a tractor full of bails of hay.
Another volunteered his horse and sleigh, both, to see the city lights thru New Years Day.
This was a great idea, since the older drivers, could use the help, for their bills to pay.
The girl ran all over spreading the excitement, and to come see the prizes, his way.
The families suddenly started heading toward his door, and to those wondrous rides.
At that moment her parents came, and she explained what her hope, had improvised.
Her father talked a contractor into building a disabled family a home, to help advertise.
He could get a tax break; come to this store for supplies, and hire unemployed workers, he devised, so wise.
In the end, each night grew brighter, because of a girls hope, and heart-warming delight.
And the old man began smiling for the first time, in a long, long, time, starting that night.
All was saved, a home was found, and another built, as a sad little girl taught grownups to smile along the way… 
You might say, A Spark of Hope lit a candle, then a raging fire, which was burning bright by Christmas day.

The moral to my story is:
Never give up on Hope; it’s your best friend, as life brings its troubles your way…
Know that with time, a good heart, good will, and friendly ways… 
You can find God’s gifts again, if you don’t let the dark take you away…


Long poem by Edmund Woods | Details |

A God of His Own

My physical self is pitiful

I have been incapacitated since an early age

Inadequate in every regard

My body is a useless shell

Luckily, this place is beyond basic physicalities

This place transcends the grim and darkness of reality

This place is my world

I am the creator of this realm

I am Alpha and Omega

No longer do I answer to the call of another God

Now, I can correct prior transgressions

And eliminate the pain that made that world flawed

Man

My iteration of man shall be eased of suffering

They will not have to plead with their God

As I have

I was useless

A joke for the ignorant

A burden for the willing

Never again shall there be ignorance

Never again shall life be a burden

Life is a gift

A most precious gift

There

Well, I must admit, I do need some more practice

But in time, humans will be my angels

Animals

The world needs more than only man

An ideal ecosystem

A cycle of life of death

But death shall be quick and painless

And their lives will be treated with respect

Hand in hand- excuse me- Hand in paw

Animals and man shall work together

To maintain balance in this world

Balance is essential

Nature

To complete this world, there must be laws

Laws incredibly similar to the ones of my past world

But, there shall be new laws

New laws that the universe must abide by

One: Killing will never be sport

Two: Destruction of my world by the hands of man

Shall never take place

Three: All life is in control of their life

I never had control

I was always a puppet

A figurine on display for the amusement of others

Never again

Sovereignty is guaranteed, disease will be ridden

The cosmos

Perhaps the most important part of my world

It contains the mysteries of the universe

And maintains the order of nature

The secret guardians

The hidden monoliths

No one knows their true purpose

Some just like to stare

But they are my titans

There to look over mankind

Well, this is my world

What do you think?

I say it’s beautiful

Some may say it’s superficial

That imperfections and true pain 

Can never be suppressed

Even by a God

I assure you, this world is perfect

I have not made the same mistakes

I know the evil of that world

That evil has died with this creation

Is it not pure evil that I was a spectacle?

That I couldn’t use my body?

It was a damn trick

It was cruel

To have such a functioning brain

But useless because of my dysfunctional body

I was a waste in that world

But when I discovered I could create a world of my own

I knew there was still hope

My mind was merely a playground

Now, it is a field for creation

A place where life will begin anew

Life will always live in happiness

Misery is nonexistent

Man is perfect

Man will always be useful

Animals are not only tools

They are integral to the purpose of this world

Nature shall never again pull cruel tricks

It will maintain the perfection that I have created

There will be no bickering amongst the stars

The cosmos are there to protect man

From everything that destroyed me

I never want mankind to suffer again

I have been through too much suffering

I have seen too much suffering

This world will be perfect

It gives me hope

Hope that no one else

Will ever experience what I have

But I am no fool

I know that when I die

This place will die with me

This is all just in my head

All I want is a haven from that worldly misery

The same worldly misery

That made me resent God

What is the purpose of life

If that’s the kind of life some may have?

I would have killed myself long ago

But I can’t even express my desire to do so

I hate myself

I hate the world I live in

I want to die

Hell awaits me

For I have been blasphemous

I have cursed the life I was given

While I still curse my life

I am joyous for those given a happy life

Never forget

Life is a gift
A most precious gift


Long poem by Therese Bacha | Details |

A White Sheet Of Paper Part I

                       "A White Sheet of Paper."  Part1

Once upon a time I was a white sheet of paper
Pilled between hundreds on a shelf my neighbor 
For years was an old stapler.

I was full of life yet dreading never to find myself 
A home where I would achieve all my dreams 
With someone not all alone.

Suddenly I heard a murmur of a low sweet voice
Asking the sales man where he can find white
Sheets of paper closer and closer he approached 
I was praying to be chosen.

When Oh! I was in his hands pulling me from 
The pile between thousands relieved to run away
I quickly said good bye to the shelve 
I could no more stand.

My blood felt warm like after a cold winter storm
Abiding by a chimney opposite the fire.
I was thinking who is he? Where does he live?
Will he posses me? Will he become my master?
Will he take me for a ride forever to abide
Or would I be used just like a scratch
Piece of paper.

My heart stopped beating for a while thinking
All the memories of my past and the future would
Just vanish depart my end in a waste paper basket
Carried away like a dead man in a casket
And thrown in a background of a graveyard.

No; I was carried by him and feeling his strong hands
Inside of me came a glimpse of hope I felt secure as 
I wanted to belong to someone for long.

Feeling assured for the very first time happy 
Within me and with him I saw him smile while 
Walking that mile to where his car was parked 
I promised myself to comply day and night I 
Will be on stand by forever.

His radio Came on with a Melody of Waltz
Rocking in the car My fate was still Unknown.

Than he stopped assuming we arrived to a 
Home or an office he gently carried me up the stairs
Opened the door I looked inside and at last I shouted 
We are all alone we were in his home will it be mine 
too one day.

With much caring he placed me on a huge big desk 
It was a mess magazines and books an ashtray that
Was not emptied for days.

I noticed next to me was a crystal white vase filled with 
All sorts of brushes still stuck on them multiple colors of paint.

That was when I realized oh my lord! I will be famous
My master was an artist from joy I was going to faint as
My thoughts pictured a frame and inside it one day I will 
Be born I will exist created by my master I will hang on a
Wall and will be admired from the soul.

The warmth of the room filled my heart I was getting tired 
Wanting to relax while turning my head before closing my
Eyes I noticed many paintings hanging on the wall 
From the ceiling to the floor.

I got jealous and ready with a deep sigh to whisper and beg 
My master to create me in an image of a dazzling woman
Surround me with such beauty cover me with colors
Pour on me paint and make me look like a wild saint.

Taken by my inspirations to provide him an identity
I felt his strong hands holding me opposite his eyes and
Pressed me on the desk and that was when I felt it hurts
Then a second pain followed by a third and fourth pain i 
Could not move I lost my breath trying not to cry I felt
I would die.

But not very long as I already knew my fate
Being a white sheet of paper I had to be pinned 
on the Table for me to remain motionless until 
his creation is terminated.

I was stunned when I saw a pencil in his hand
Smelling his perfume when he was tracing my face
It started to feel round small ears for future earrings
My nose was tiny he started with my eyes than he 
Stopped.

I felt him fixing and concentrating on the spot where 
He will create my eyes excited as I loved him when
I was blind and now he will unbind the bandage 
off my eyes.

To see him more to love him more to follow him 
Everywhere to watch him laugh and cry to see him 
Dress and undress caress his body with my Eyes.

Watch him drink and think eat sitting down or standing up
Amazed awaiting his decision to start by reviving my 
Inner soul and create me as his woman I was craving 
To have green eyes.


To be continued.part 2
                                         Terry


Long poem by Joel Lee | Details |

Part 1 - Life Awaited

I have a story that needs be told
A story I never knew if words can transcript
For it belongs when in dreams I enroll
Visions before or an afterlife if I shall seek

If it all shall begin… it begins with me
A stranger living in a past, a stranger place to have been
Another world for my eyes… a world yet to be
For the voice need be deciphered for it all to mean

It was past several nights ago
A paled darkness I remember to have sunken into
Perhaps too much of love I have enfold
Or simply too much of a self I’m lesser to overrule

Venturing in thoughts unrealized… unknown
I am lost and alone, unloved and unworthy
Behind a closed door, am I to feel at home?
Needing answers for my troubled mind… needing tranquility 

As I began dwelling into myself nevertheless
I shut away a world I have come to know too well
A stranger finding a resolve, a past to rehearse
Yet having found was a voice… an alternative to compel

The voice has only but left me enthrall
A language unheard of… perhaps of an ancient tongue
And to understand… how is it I am empowered?
And trailing behind, an aria from others sung


“I was enchanted by those who sung… they who sing
Like sylphs, like sirens… unearthly yet encompassing
Did I remember being at home, behind a closed door?
Or is it a dream I slumbered into for a time to recall?
An hour less before midnight for an hour more before daylight
Yet of thirteen bears the time I see for my hourly need to hide
A truth perhaps far from disbelieve is all I’m left to see
Yet… the mysterious voices promises me for what couldn’t be
Like gravity… flowing without control, without life own
Like a design for quivering quivers to the shivering unknown
And blinded of numbered time, I allow myself this moment
This moment when love isn’t at all to matter even
Timeless became my life, sinking into the voices of the unholy
Knowing an answer I seek no more from a world reasonably 
Almost a subtle caress to have perhaps felt their touch
Flirting with me, toying with my soul a little too much
Have they not to bring solace… I wouldn’t have believe
Have they not voices as intriguing… if I can simply leave?
And they sung ever on… evermore, forever to be
Giving me a shade of another world unimaginable to see
Perhaps nothing more from my real world I need hear
Compassion for another… a self I need no longer dear
Entice yet… I hear the aria softening away for another
Branding into my mind till possibly shall life departs me forever
For when it came, it belongs an utterly voice to articulate
A much deeper sounding of another language to translate
And unheard of were the words spoken in today’s tongue
Yet heard were the words I somehow understood to have undone
However all has come to pass, darkness returns with a familiar door
Delivering me from my moment for another moment to recall
An awakening for a darker side or a lighter side of life awaited
I cannot know with my deliverance kept at bay of time presented
And no sooner than I realize am I back in my room once more
Gifted of words is all but all to reside from an ever before”

“Fear is a fire
To temper courage and resolve
Be it desire
To quench the thirst for one’s unfounded lost”

That be of words left for me
Spoken without teachings of today to date
Yet burnt into mind was what I see
A reference perhaps from a past to now relate

A moment given I can still believe
That moment if I am to encounter once more
To explain the least for my words receive
Be it a dream for the unknown to recall

Has it been past several nights ago?
Living in this dreaded world as a lesser self I am
If it isn’t for the voice… would life I have to behold?
To find a more positive side of a stranger me to befriend

Perhaps I will return once more unknowingly
And much I would give for this transaction be made
A founded lost must I be… in search of this tranquility
Surrendering to unforgiveable time if I must but await


Long Poems