Apocalyptic riders, riding hard,
pressing, pressing on us
as they come -
how long will they ride
before we all are overcome?
Why do so many
to the horsemen four succumb?
Too many, like sheep, heedless have become.
Anti-democratic and scapegoating leaders
have ruled over us for decades.
No. For centuries!
Wars and misery they bring.
Why don’t we turn the tables
and lock them up in penitentiaries?
Why imitate those liars
being money-hungry,
allowing them control
as we follow ever dumbly?
So few are those who dare step up.
Lonely is the Silver Surfer and Fantastic Four.
A shout-out to humanity -
your courage I implore!
Turn the tables. Turn the tables.
If we’d but take a stand -
think of how the world could be.
Like the Dharma -
It could be so grand.
Let us all together band,
and let Aquarius shine with peace
throughout each and every land.
Turn down your violent rhetoric, America, you’re losing your soul.
Wish I could, but the First Amendment has no volume control.
And what if the violent rhetoric gets dangerously loud?
That’s what the Second Amendment is all about.
So you can offer no hope, no guiding instruction?
Just what Mark Twain saw a long time ago:
Every civilization carries the seeds of its own destruction.
Your heat scorches my heart
Your eyes singe my soul
I'm a willing, wanton, slave,
Free me now, or make me whole.
Bound in blessed bondage,
Brand me with brands of fire.
Dancing flames of passion,
Fans my tepid heart's desire
Free Coffee Lyrics by Dan Turner
Princess
does not
meet prince,
never
happy
ever
after
Perhaps
a frog
is kissed,
perhaps
a fool
with his
laughter.
Ruby
slippers
cannot
take you
home sweet
home; dreams
turn sour.
The hour
getting
late, late!
Shelter
now in
your strong
tower.
Innn we've come, honey rooms that don't fly
Leaving me at bedtime
With
Windows as desks part
And Jest in time, you'll return the best part
Knowing I'll beJust as fine
Talking in hills climb
If you are about
Signing my bottom line
Paris?
I've got latin blues and jewish sop
Records that show outs
But I haven't swam on home
In cities we just get by
Arlington's at side by
Frantic paces, friends always me
I have told my story before in a different way, long before I became Speaks Volumes. I still consider it original, as new readers may pass it to someone that NEEDS to hear it.....
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"A realisation that no longer was it a duty to rid myself of pain but a duty to others, not to." ~~The Poet~~
I cried a million tears while no-one was around,
I bottled all my fears and didn’t make a sound.
I remembered all the cruelty that was said.
Only loneliness and despair filled my head.
I could envisage no future that was to be.
Everything was hopeless, nothing left for me.
Not one nice time in my life that I could recall.
I was ugly and sickly, and a burden to all.
I was tired of forcing myself to go on living
Seemed I was always taking and never giving.
As I stood on that cliff looking down at the sea
I somehow looked forward as it beckoned to me.
Bold enough now to walk away from that cliff to give living another try.
Its because of what I heard and I’d like to tell you why
All of a sudden a voice came from somewhere above
"Your hurt wont go, you’ll only pass it to those you love".
I'm tired. Mostly of people being ugly to each other.
I'm tired. Of being disappointed with society.
I'm tired. Of individuals with no integrity.
I'm tired. Of greed and corruption.
I'm tired. Mostly of being tired.
Research into the prospective matter
Could conclude the beginnings preclusive
end.
She then saw her wants and desires as need
The dophious status of who she sought
made me know that the complications was due
to her lack of reality.
She was bruised from the foolishness of ignorance
and refined in the need of belonging.
His dumbness proved that the historonics of coupling
had an inclusive touch .
Call the mean nun a worthless woman
Might she understand
Her current position
Smile the mean women of Dophious
Shall find him to be villain
The sisters of ignorance of ranxe have been parent
to recreate the horror in life
One has missed
It ain't safe that in ones repression
he or she is remised
the. Clauses and sciences
The formulas to be remenised
The dates and pistachios are
the inspirations of climatic
Episodes
Detailing the need of men
To procreate
Turn the page, my love
By Michelle Morris
26/07/2025
Turn the page, my love
Turn the page
It's time to change your story
It's time for a new space
You can pick the main theme
You can choose the main characters
You hold the power in your hands
You hold the magic in your soul
You were not meant to stay the same
You were not meant to remain caged
You are wild and magnificent and free
You can fly with those gorgeous wings
Anything is possible
Your path, your journey, your dreams
Anything is possible
Your hopes, your desires, your beliefs
Remain inspired by your spark
That light within your soul
Remain focused on your growth
Believe in your worth and wholeness
So, turn the page, my love
Turn the page
It's time to change your story
It's time for a new life
Turn the page, my love
Turn the page
Write the chapters you imagine
Make it happen, make it real
© Michelle Morris, 2025
That’s not the light you're seeking.
Words cannot live
with your brain all lit up like that.
Let those dark parts of your body,
those body-prayers mostly ignored,
gift to you a poem.
Most of your better images
are born in that low-grade radiance
of flesh and bone.
After the glow
you can fill in the gaps
but not too much
or you’ll cover up
what you should have revealed.
From pitch black to being the pitch in battle
From self-destruction to self-love
A touch of faith yesterday planted the seed
He heard my cry from the heavens above
Today feels better because of the turn
Back in the race with handy upgrades
I needed dead-head pruning like rose bush
No victory exists without the blood of crusades
I bow my head in cold-headed affirmation
My smile turns inwards like an invisible humble ray
I had to stir my pot of faith to be granted this great day
My wounds heal as my dark past buries like Pompei
My eyes swerved to someone
magnified my attention,
mesmerized in hyponsis,
felt like popping of faries bubbles down my mind,
couple of ladders to my comprehension,
I'm sliding smooth but hasty,
like adrenalin,
caught off guard.
Smelting of this cold layers on my motion,
lays softness to my curiosity
Thought future was fate determined,
yet this here shreded my expectations,
I don't know whether
I'm falling or drowning,
just can't seem to be landing,
I'm gobbling on gusts of my breath,
choking but in looping sequences,
sudden sinking to my understanding.
Can someone turn off this heat,
this wave burning and
pealing only in my presence,
just way beyond for me to contain.
Wish I could paint this image for the universe eye
but I'm without paint and brush,
in me is just some catastrophic
of epic proportions
#Poetic_Ink
I want to be heard
I want to be listened to
But not if I have to compete for attention
If it's my turn
Let me hold the microphone
Let the spotlight shine on me
I don't ask for much
No standing ovation required
Just a nod to show you heard
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
The sun my awakening
a strip of asphalt shimmers
off somewhere in Nebraska
hundreds of miles from home.
Sandhills seen for the first time
I look at them with eyes of a child
but my body aches
as life springs forth
from underground streams.
Center lines are being painted
an arduous day of work promised
it always arrives too soon
but serene skies stretch to endless horizons.
My co-workers and I follow each other
to the meeting spot miles out of town
where we’ll ready ourselves for the assignment--
we’ve come from different stages in life,
I see a bison farm in the middle of nowhere
and must tell others about what I’ve seen
to the sound of nothingness at the spot we meet
and wispy clouds drift across the sky
such wonder shared, I feel it must be a story or poem.
At the end of the week, we say good-bye,
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