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Now here's a contest that seems pointless
But, up to a point, I guess it will do.
The points in my life have sometimes been fruitless,
I just thought I would point that out to you.

Oh, the point of this rhyme
May be pointed one way,
But it is at this point in time
To score points by what I say.

The point that I am making,
Is that there is always some point
That life points in a way forsaking,
Giving your point a grave disjoint.

I have pointed out many times
that points are good and bad.
But the good points I remember better
Rather than the bad points I have had.

You can sometimes see how pointless it is
To try to point these things out.
As for the point I am making,
You get the doubt!

Copyright © Daniel Cwiak | Year Posted 2011

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Wolf Story

I walk the roads of countryside
To get back home at night
I keep my feet on well worn path
The full moon is my light

I move along with hurried pace
My heart beats like a drum
A fear inside is pushing me
I feel like I must run

I've heard from people in the town
That something's on the prowl
I tell myself it isn't true
But then I hear it howl

I stop in frozen silence
As I listen all around
At snapping twigs and rustling leaves
And horrifying sounds

It's as if it's chasing me
And wants to see me dead
It fills my mind with terror
And it fills my heart with dread

A darkened cloud consumes the moon
I lose my sight of way
Oh dear Lord I wish I had
The precious light of day

I stumble round and falter
Then I drop down to my knees
I fold my hands and bow my head
And pray that it's not me

Don't let me be the next one
That the tavern folks will tell
Got torn apart while it was dark
And they were drinking ale

I find my feet and run again
With moonbeams back in view
But something follows close behind
I fear what it will do

I fall again. I rise again
My back's against a tree
I look around from side to side
And that's when it finds me

Our eyes are locked together
As predator and prey
Will this be the final hour
That ends my final day?

Its canine teeth are glowing
In the brilliant full moonlight
I close my eyes and wait to feel
The wrath of its first bite

My heart is beating loudly
I can hear it in my ears
I pray for God to save me
From this terror that I fear

With my arms behind me
Wrapped around this trees embrace
I feel the wolf approach me
And its hot breath on my face

I sense the wetness of its nose
Pressed against my own
It sniffs and snorts and hesitates
I wonder what is wrong

My left eye slowly opens
And I see its hungry glare
I open up the other
And I meet it stare to stare

The next thing I remember
I awakened in the woods
Laying by the very tree
Where earlier I stood

I stagger to my feet
And try to shake my foggy head
I rub my eyes and wonder
Why it is that I'm not dead

I do my best to recollect
Events of hours past
How did I escape unharmed
With no more than a scratch?

I make my way through wooded glade
And find the traveled trail
I don't know how I did it
But I used my sense of smell

I finally make it  to my home
As dawn is on the rise
I shed my clothes and fall to bed
Then close my wolfen eyes

Rockman   :-)

Copyright © Rockman Pritts | Year Posted 2011

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The sharp edge 
catches the light on my
wrist like a bangle that was 
meant to be there

The blade has teeth but
doesn't smile
it just knows, it just understands
and my shaking fingers

like a servant 
it will do as I ask
like a slave
there is no choice
like a friend 
it loves me more than others
who find themselves
on the opposite side
of my locked
bathroom door

And now I call, now I let fall
all of the change
I would never see come to pass
I hold tight to the razor edge
and bury it through my vanishing skin
I can't win, but I will be here
fighting back the world
with a leaking heart

Which spills off my arms...
onto a desensitized, white floor

This is my door, my way
my red choice forming pools
around my fallen, slumped hands

I just want to be understood
I just want to show
all this color within

And you can have it now
I give you all of me
colorless and empty

Since now I finally make it right
I've finally saved 

Copyright © Allison Ballard | Year Posted 2012

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Childhood Inequality In School

Some children come into the school building dancing, singing, hopping, bursting with uninhibited glee.
They exchange giddy, happy stories about their day at the mall, dropping name brand names,
Showing off their glittery light-up shoes, and light up back packs.  They tell about their doting grandparents who allowed them to fill their cart up.  Money is not a consideration in their world. They are unaware of paying for utilities, or groceries, or gas for cars. No one yells at them when their hamburger costs a dollar.  For all they know, the loot they got at the mall was free. They do not
Have any idea the card they saw slide through a machine means someone is paying real money later. They live in an adult-free zone. They are not burdened with who is sleeping with whom, who did someone wrong, who stole the car from their ex. They have been allowed to be children, uninhibited by things like that. 

Other children come into the building ready to kill someone. They have had a sleepless night, listening to their adults screaming and fighting, wishing the unusually loud violent music will eventually drowned them out, but it does not. They lie awake, hypervigilant, thinking of the loaded revolver on top of the refrigerator, wondering who will be the first to pull it out, wondering if they will have time to get out, not thinking about saving a little brother or sister, still angry about them being there in the first place, taking food out of their mouth.

This child is angry, defensive, on guard, completely enraged by the time his parent has gotten up, gotten dressed, gotten someone to give them a ride, and gotten him to school the first day an hour late.  He has been reminded all the way to school that the teachers are the enemy,  not to be trusted, that they will look for the worst in him, and they will find it.  He is completely stirred up by the time they arrive.

As they walk toward the building the mother is reminding him not to share the family business, not to tell the school people his address, not to mention they do not have running water, and certainly not to mention how many people they have living with them.  If he does, the punishment will be severe, maybe even worse than last time.

He does not have a uniform, but the school personnel rally and get him one. He does not have school supplies either. They give him a back pack filled with notebooks, pencils, erasers, everything they will need. The mother glares at the lady and tells her they wanted a brand name back pack.  He is amazed, surprised that his mother cares.  His mother tries to bully the school into giving him something better, so he can see how he is expected to treat these people.  He watches, silently, understanding.

An unappreciative thank you is muttered under the breath of the mother, in an exasperated way, as if the shoddy brand new backpack was not quite good enough, but it will do.  The child is in the bathroom now, putting on the uniform, away from the prying eyes of the enemies.  He is glad no one can see the scars. What he does not realize is, school teachers have been trained, they all see these scares, and they semi-understand why he is so angry with the singing, hopping, bursting with glee students, one of whom he hurts almost immediately.

Still, it is not allowed or tolerated, and if he could tell the enemy things, they might be able to help. But of course he cannot, and the school enemy people understand that too.  They have met his mother.

Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2018

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This Poem Wants 2 B A Revolutionary

This poem wants to make a change . . .

To be a strong yet silent raised fist in Mexico, 1968.

To stand at a window w/a shotgun writing the words
“By any means necessary”

To sit in at a lunch counter in Birmingham, Alabama
Until it is read

To start a breakfast program in Compton, California
In order to feed hungry minds

To stand up for its rights in Akron, Ohio and shout,
“Aint I a poem?”

To integrate an all white book store under protection of the National Guard
And when George Wallace says to it,
“You will not enter unless it’s over my cold, dead, body. . .”
This poem will gladly take him up on his offer

But now this poem feels that perhaps it is too militant,
Maybe it and Spike should just “Do the Right Thing” . . .

Take the hand of other poems deep in the South Georgia woods and lead them to freedom
Under cover of night-light

Take its brothers and sisters out of the man’s world and
Into Aaron’s “Boondocks”

Play its own music, live in Jamaica and
Grow Nappy Locs

Start a union with A. Phillip down at the docks

Be read by Martin while being pelted with rocks

Find out what would happen
“If Beale Street Could Talk”. . .

This poem will get accused of “Ego Trippin” but 
will not take it personally, declaring,
“And Still I Rise” 

It will invite other poems to a free concert headlined by
Marvin, Stevie, Chuck D, and Black Thought

It will do what it should, not what others think it ought

This poem will be munificent . . .
Will give because so much has been given to it

Will do because so much has been done for it

Will be able to sit down because so many others have
Stood up

But this poem can not sit still for long
Because this poem has been disenfranchised . . .

This poem was told there is no longer a need
For affirmative action
only to have it replaced with definitive inaction

This poem cast a vote in Florida, 
only to be told that it did not count

This poem observed its commander in thief, fly over rising waters in the Lower Ninth Ward 
just to keep his feet from getting wet

This poem watched its country expand our “melting pot” to include all types of ingredients, 
Then scrape the black off the bottom of the pan . . . 

and send it back to Haiti on a raft

This poem has been pulled over for being DWI
(drafted with intelligence)

This poem was profiled at Hartsfield Airport,
And made to take off it’s . . . blues.

This poem never planted any genus of Bush, 
It’s not concerned with whom you marry,
Nor does it desire to trade the blood of young soldiers for oil, but look what it got

No wonder,
This poem wants 2 b a revolutionary . . .

Copyright © Mari Roberts | Year Posted 2013

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The Nature of Man

It is the nature of man to pursue
And woman’s to be pursued
Man must do the wooing
And woman must be wooed

It is the nature of man to conquer
And woman to play it coy
He must be the strong one
She must act like his toy

It is the nature of man to explore
And woman’s to be sedate
He must push the limits
She must make him wait

Ah...woman, you are to hold back
And make him beg for more
You must keep yourself aloof
And just hint at what’s in store

You must give a only a portion
To keep him from discontent
Must be sparing with your love 
To make his jealousy hell bent

For it is the nature of man to chase
And woman to lend to the chase
But learn this from me, angel
These notions are vile and base

For if your man has such a nature 
And slights your consuming love
Don’t waste on him your passion
Escape on wings of a dove

For love knows no rules or decorum
It will do what it may please
So do what you fancy best
Be assertive when you tease

For know that when the day‘s done
And you are lying in bed alone
You must be true to yourself
Strip “Nature” down to the bone.

Obey the voice of your heart, love
Don’t fall prey to “nature’s” game
Be a woman of these times
And put these silly rules to shame!

Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2012

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In some places, springs leaves too early
making way for the fun season; whichever
the activity we choose, let's do it well and happily...
before loneliness sinks us into unbearable despair.

If depression, aches and pains prevent some from engaging
in sports: read a novel, do cleaning chores and try walking...
it  will do the body good and keep the mind active and sharp;
isn't age a burden for musicians not being able to play a harp?

If only we were young, we would do hiking and climb a mount,
go sailing and catch salmon, lobster, carp and bluefish;
at eighty, some join a marathon and win it: what's their secret?
Is there a miraculous pill that can boost energy in a flash?

Let the fun season be a daily escape from much boredom and stress,
summer is not only a season for teens who wear baseball caps;
find a sport not too strenuous, something that you can enjoy...
my favorite one: is having a tennis match with unbeatable uncle Tony!

Copyright ( c ) 20015 by Andrew Crisci

Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2015

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On This Serene Red Parasol Beach Day

Atop a rock, there sits a girl. A hat adorns her head as she enjoys a chat with her young friend beside the pretty bay on this serene red parasol beach day. I breathe the salty air in through my nose and feel the warmth of sand between my toes. I listen to the squawks of gulls at play on this serene red parasol beach day. I walk along the shore and reminisce about lost love when I see sweethearts kiss down by the water’s edge not far away on this serene red parasol beach day. My parasol is blue, but it will do when finally I find the perfect view. A towel I lay right here where I will stay on this serene red parasol beach day Written June 25, 2016 for Eve Roper's "The Red Parasol by Alfred Glendening" Poetry Contest
Enter Contest

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2016

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What do you want me to write?
I think I will write about faith
What is faith?
Is it something you can see
can grab, can hang onto?
Yes, yes, and yes
You can see in someone though not visually, with your spirit eyes
You can feel in someone though not spoken
You can attach and reattach
You can detach and be attacked
Either way it works for you and not against you
It lifts you out of the bound and sets you on a firmer ground
It heals your senses, body, and anything it touches
It removes doubt, fear, oppression, and things not called for
It calls into being what is not spoken
It determines our fate through words that are spoken
It affirms our senses, values, ownership through its grandeur
It moves mountains, blockage, obstruction
It brings one to one's knees in a moment of desperation, brokenness
It catapults one to one's spiritual height
It remains with one through one's deepest sorrows
What can it do?
It can do a lot
Whatever one wants it to do, it will do
Because He will do
Because faith is God
And God is faith 
Can't separate one from another
God meant for us to have faith
And have faith plenty
Have faith in everything
Because "faith is the assurance of things hoped for
the conviction of things not seen" (Hebrews 11-1)
"And without faith, it is impossible to please God" (Hebrews 11:6)
"For we walk by faith, not by sight" (2 Corinthians 5:7)
Because we need to "fight the good fight of faith" (1 Timothy 6:12)
Because faith is a gift

Copyright © Toquyen Harrell | Year Posted 2015

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Time machine trauma

I hand over the bank notes - the box I take home
A flat pack tech gadget wrapped up in white foam
I peel open the packing - my keenness obscene
To lay out and make up my new time machine

I look at the pieces - feel ill and confused
Some look rather old - some look quite misused
The box should be mint - instead it's been torn
The branding is tired - the printing is worn

The instruction's in Swedish - the picture's unclear
This thing-gummy-doodah - screw there or glue here?
A few bits left over - a few bits amiss
I'm losing my patience along with my wits

It doesn't look perfect - I hope it will do
I sit in the cockpit - time travel debut
I dial in year zero - an interesting time
I arrive at last week - a paradox crime

In anger and sadness I pack the gizmo
I take back my purchase to reclaim my dough
With box under arm I storm into the shop
My future receipt slammed down counter top

There isn't a problem - my money's returned
They know that in practice it's really a loan
The box is repaired and returned to the shelf
And next week they sell to my good future self

Rewritten 16th April 2017
Entry to "Jamie's interesting contest 2 - travel back in time topic"

Copyright © Mark Martin | Year Posted 2016

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O No My Car Service Is Due Again

O no, it is that time again.....
My car, it's due for its scheduled service and care..
Gotta to call the service centre, gotta to make  an appointment...
Yes, ma'am, tuesday tomorrow is just fine, should be no problem..

O no, it is that time again...
My car, it's due for an oil change, gear oil change, any others to change..
Gotta to have them changed, gotta to keep the engine well maintained..
Yes, ma'am, change whatever those that need to be changed...

O no, it's that time again...
My car, this regular maintenance, by my wallet it is such a strain..
Gotta to have cash or credt card ready, the latter is additional pain...
Yes, ma'am, gotta to use credit card, glad it will do fine by you...

O no, it's that time again...
My car, some stranger gotta to get to it, gotta mess the insides...
Gotta to seat and wait, seat  and wait for the services alright...
Yes, ma'am I'd rather seat and wait, so the waiting needn't be stretched..

O yes, YES! The  maintenance has been done...
My car, though it is not obvious, I'm very sure it was properly serviced...
Gonna have a smoother drive, gonna have a swell handling as I drive...
TQ, ma'am, my credit is good, I trust you will see me again soon enough...

O yes, YES! Safety first, so my car is well maitained...
My car, everyday I drive, it is an integral part of my daily life....
Gotta to keep it healthy, gotta to have it reliable and road worthy...
Yes, ma'am, my sentiments exactly...

What's a little money spent for a healthy car to ensure my safety...?

Copyright © KENG CHUAN SENG | Year Posted 2015

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How to do the miracle

It will do miracle sure.

Can you give some clue?

How to do?

© kashinath karmakar( 12th July 2011)

Placement:9th;(July 2011)


Sponsor:Dr.Ram Mehta

Copyright © kash poet | Year Posted 2011

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A World Of Difference

I believe that I will succeed,
and show the world what one person can do,
to change the world for good.

If each person can help with something,
it will do a world of difference.

Moral: Be the one to start change

Copyright © Rainbow Music | Year Posted 2016

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Leave God some room

God taught me something today
That I shouldn't set my heart on something
Because there is nothing that is definite
Things change
People change
We have to be able to flow with the time
And the things you thought you want yesterday?
You may not want it today
How would you like it
if God just do what you want and nothing else?
First of all it would be boring
Yes I said it - boring
You are not one to know
Your mind and mine are limited
We are bound by our own ideas and experiences
God is not 
So there - prove my point
Of course I'm not saying you are boring
But hey what do I know? You may be haha
How would you like it if God always do what you wanted?
You would never know what you'll be missing
Life would be so limited
Because if you are like me I only like certain things
Certain people certain places
Have my mind set on things 
Narrow minded
Just think what you and I would be missing
We wouldn't know what is out there
Only God knows 
Leave it up to God 'cause He knows what is good for us
Before we know what is good for us
I will leave you with this thought
"We never know what is good until God shows us"
Delve on it - it will do you good :)

Copyright © Toquyen Harrell | Year Posted 2015

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A Town called Rotgut

The road into Rotgut looked like every road,
in every town I've seen, dusty
I've traveled through so many towns
and this town is no different
I'm tired, just looking for the saloon
and a guy, a drifter, name of Zack
Sent me a wire, needs help with a bank job
They call me Ricardo, an outlaw
Been on the run since I can remember
Enough about that, I'm thirsty
The trail dust is still choking me
Well, its not much of a saloon,
but it will do
Bartender!Give me a drink!
Leave the bottle!
Hello miss, thanks but no thanks
Here on business, don't have time
Looking for a guy name is Zack
Do you know him?
At the table, thanks
You Zack? Got your wire
Ricardo? Yes the same
I'll be around, but not for long
In fact Zack, after looking at you I'll be moving on
No offense, you look like someone who runs a dry good store
And I didn't come here to baby sit
So just pay me for showing up and I'll move on
That won't be a problem will it?
Didn't think so
Thanks for the whiskey, told the bartender you'll pay for it
I'm keeping the bottle, you don't mind
Hope not, I'm tired and really don't want to kill you
Good day miss
Yep, like every town I've seen

Copyright © Frederic Parker | Year Posted 2014

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Hurricane Irma

Hurricane Irma is barreling down with its monster storm, 
Churning 185 mile an hour winds that have eerily formed.
The U.S. is afraid what it will do when it makes landfall.
Unfortunately forecasters can’t make the exact call.

Floridians are buying generators and boarding up their homes…
There’s no telling where this catastrophic storm will roam.
This hurricane is unprecedented and a clear danger.
After Hurricane Harvey, hurricane devastation is no stranger.

A Cat five storm is 500 times stronger than a Cat One.
Floridians, it’s time to secure your families and run.
The evacuations have begun… the traffic will be massive.
If you are in the storm’s path, you can’t afford to remain passive.

Hurricanes Contest
Julie Rodeheaver sponsor
~Awarded 3rd Place~

Copyright © Brenda McGrath | Year Posted 2017

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Want, aim

What do I want to write?
I will write about going after what you want
Did you know that God will help you get what you want?
Yes, He sure will
If that is what you really want
If you don’t believe me
The next time you want something
See if you are not going to get it
Yes suree
The human mind is equipped with getting satisfied
It will do no matter what to achieve what it wants
Once you set your mind to it
You will jump through hoops
Swim through darkest canals
Paddle through the deepest sea
To get what you want
If that is what you want
We will go through the highest mountains
Achieve what we would never think we could do
If only we determine that is what we set out to acquire
The making up our mind is the hardest part
But once we make up our mind
Heck it’s all downhill from there
So don’t let anyone tell you otherwise
You just have to make up your mind
What you want to do, get, whatever
And the rest is history
Your mind will come up with something
And I am going to tell you, I told you so
So go
Be thinking
Have to have in you a desire
To it or for it
That is the hardest
So want, will you
And aim

Copyright © Toquyen Harrell | Year Posted 2014

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The Family Home

I live in a house
built of bricks,
not in the city,
out in the sticks.
It's not the best
but it will do.
Wild front garden
and back one too.
Needs a little love and care,
The living room carpet
is thread bare.
Lots of hard work
all around
but the foundations
are quite sound.
It's just right for me and mine.
Living here 
we've done just fine.
Away from the pollution
of the city,
forfeiting the shops,
a bit of a pity.
I left the city 
years ago,
so as my family
could peacefully grow.
I'm glad I moved
from the city
to here.
It's less dangerous,
little to fear.
We've had it good
and we've 
had it bad
but we're mostly happy
and rarely sad.

Copyright © Jenny brewer | Year Posted 2013

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The Amazing Life

I was taking an early morning walk. A beautiful day had dawned, 
cool and crisp, with only a whisper of breeze. I am told it’s revitalizing; 
it will do my health much good. But, you see things to sadden you. 
Sometimes being early kills you;

sitting on a tree early bird scans the mowed lawn for an early worm
I am told too to play it right. Stay safe within your boundary. Stepping out of bounds can be dangerous. Tread the well-trodden path. Not to take unnecessary risks;
did everything right like fish stayed in my waters got caught and filleted
Life is amazing. It’s an endless maze of dead ends. It is not simple living a life -- It’s full of misgivings and mishaps. We couldn’t figure out the purpose of life even after a life-time of living;
like guinea pig wheel with all the running around and getting nowhere
I looked at the amazing stone faces of long-forgotten gods of ancient civilizations, From the Incas, the Aztecs, the Mayans, the Romans, the Greeks, the Persians to the Egyptians -- they all believed in a continued life in the great beyond;
I picked a stray stone and chiseled myself a god; then, I worshiped
~Haibun contest by Scott Thirtyseven

Copyright © Abdul Malik | Year Posted 2015

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In His Presence

 I saw a brilliant star from far
 Descending down it stopped.
This is impossible! There's no

 Somehow I knew there was a
reason why! As I looked again,
intently, at the night sky!

 There was something 
mysterious I felt taking place!
 A surreal feeling overcame 
me as I looked and gazed!

 The light from the star was
over a mangers stall.
 As I walked toward it and 
looked at it, in awe!

  When I glanced to see. I
saw a man, his wife, and a 
small baby.

  I asked,"Is this a place to 
bring a child?"
  He said, " We had no 
choice. It will do for now."

  He said," My name is Joseph,
my wife Mary and Jesus my
baby son."
 I asked him, " Where are you
and Mary from?"

  He answered. " We are sent
by our Loving God to bring
forth this child for all to love."
 " A virgin birth my wife Mary
did bring. A special gift of
salvation, given through him."

  I quickly got on my knees,
repented, and prayed. " Oh
thank you Lord for stopping
here, along the way!"

    I kissed him softly on this
surreal night. Savoring this
miracle moment for all of my

  I said in prayer, " Your
Majesty you made the heavens
and the stars too, and gave us 
everlasting life, for believing in

 " I thank you father for saving
me!" I must now return  to 

  "Mary, I will go and tell
everyone about your special 
birth of God's holy son!"

  Joseph spoke up and said,
 " Noble shepherd you can't
tell anyone. For King Herod 
wishes to find Jesus and cause
him harm!"

  "Joseph and Mary I will go
in peace. Never to say anything
that was revealed to me."

  Joseph said, "Thank you.
You're a noble shepherd. Mary 
and I thank you once again."
  "Your welcome my friends,
now I must go. My sheep I
must tend."

  "The joy and shock of what
I had seen! Brought tears of 
love, for my beloved King!"   

      A noble shepherd.







* Special note. Christmas is about Jesus's
birth. We celebrate God's precious gift that
was tortured and killed sacrificed for our sins
to avoid us from eternal punishment. 
Salvation is given free by you accepting him
as your Lord God, believing he died for your 
sins, and repenting of your sins. If you do 
that you will have everlasting life in peace.
God bless you all and please remember the
reason for the season. Thank You...

  Michael Tor          11/17/2015                                 Isaiah Zerbst Christmas With Christ

Copyright © michael tor | Year Posted 2015

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There's a lovely tropic island at the bottom of the map, 
It's a paradise on earth except for one small handicap; 
We have wallabies and kangaroos to only name a few, 
And a gentler crowd is seldom found in any city's zoo.

But there's danger lurking everywhere throughout these tropic isles.. 
The forests here are full of snakes, the rivers; crocodiles! 
There are miles of golden beaches where the crowds don't hesitate, 
But just beyond the breakers, swift and hungry shadows wait! 

In the land of Oz, downunder, lives a creature greatly feared 
Both in quiet rural country and the city he's appeared. 
His appearance is deceiving, and he sometimes looks quite strange.. 
And his colour varies widely right across his tropic range.

You may see him lurk half-hidden near a path or watercourse 
Where he waits with endless patience and attacks without remorse! 
He may strike your leg from ambush on some dark and moonless night. 
And in terror you will recoil, and you may just die of fright! 

So you'll rush off to the doctor, sure that it will do no good, 
But he'll find no deadly venom, just a bit of splintered wood. 
'I think that you'll survive', he says, 'although the leg may ache, 
For you have just been bitten by the dreaded Bentstick Snake! ' 
Frank Halliwell

Copyright © frank halliwell | Year Posted 2013

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My Little Bird

Life constantly changes
A white day could
Suddenly turn black
But no matter what happens
I know my little bird’s got my back

I keep her in my pocket
She chirps and she sings
She shades me from the scorching Light of Day
With her gilded wings

And when the Cold Night comes
She keeps me company
She rests next to my pillow
As we share our dreams

My little bird hates those Cages
She’s as free as she can be
When she’s
And soaring
Out there with me

Sometimes I can’t seem to comprehend
Why my little bird feels upset
When all I’ve given her
Is the best she could ever get

I guess I was wrong
To think my little bird would always be there
It seems to me
That her heart belongs elsewhere

What an awful person I would be
To ask her to stay
To plead to her
To cry to her
And beg her not to leave

I guess it’s safe to say
We’ll still be under the same sky
If my little bird wants to leave
Who am I to ask her why?

So fly away little birdie
And spread your charm
Your distance might hurt me at first
But it will do me no permanent damage or harm

For I am certainly sure
That this is what you need
A perfect Escape
A new life to lead

Your colorful feathers
Are what I’d mostly miss to see
I love you little birdie
That’s why I am setting you free

To a place far away from me
A place where I shall become Nothing
But a crumbled photograph
In your vague memory

Never forget me my little bird
Nor the memories we had
The only thing that keeps me going
Is the Fact
That you are no longer sad

So fly away little birdie
And spread your charm
Your distance might hurt me at first
But it will do me no permanent damage or harm-

Copyright © Maya Kaabour | Year Posted 2009

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A Novel With-in

Drinking coffee this fine morning
with paper and pen in hand.
Putting upon myself the Great write,
  People Pleasing, In-Demand!

My eyes are barely reading and my
pen is running out of ink,
But all my silly mind wants to do is
       Think, Think, Think.

Placing pen to paper out pops another
correct, flowing rhyme,
Not the perfect desired novel but today           
         it will do just fine.

Someday soon I know I will do it!
Push all the limits that's with-in and then
maybe a famous Author will call me and
   Want to be this writer's friend.
           Well! Hoping.

Copyright © Sharon Gulley | Year Posted 2016

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Bad Chinese Food with Andrea

We polished life's little treasures 
underneath the cranky red dragon
Fried noodles crispy and curled like our tongues
when the world was a mix tape of our perfect songs
We sat on green vinyl for hours
with clear soup and it's scallions grown cold
While mulling our thoughts and perfecting our dreams
Though but a memory, quite real it still seems...
We made mental notes of sweet air
and the spice of our food set afire
You still mean to me what you did in our youth
amidst all the lies, sifting through to the truth
We left arm in arm in the rain
and nodded a bow to the Koi
My friend, will you meet me, it will do us much good
to rehash all our thoughts over bad Chinese food...

Copyright © Tatyana Carney | Year Posted 2005

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Why does everything need your permission?
I am sick of this
Why do you have to grant it
before we can have it?
I am glad that you grant me that
What about other guys?
They may not have it
And that is not fair
Because really God, caring what you think is important
But it's hard to do
I don't know what you go from here
But You are the King
I can't change shoot
You can just do what You want
As You are going to do that anyway
I am going to just let You do what You want
You know what You need to do
I don't 
Just let me know when it's over, will ya?
Because I don't want to be involving in the nitty-gritty
If you want to work on me
You have to do it on your own
Don't involve me
I am done working
Don't know and don't care
Yeah God I don't care lol
Take it or leave it
You can either make it better - on Your own
Or leave it alone
I don't want any part of it
I think I said my piece
So there on my own
Am I ever going to be on my own?
But it will do
So wrap up God
You are going to do what You are going to do
And I am going to do what I am going to do
Parlez-vous français?
Me neither
And I don't speak French

Copyright © Toquyen Harrell | Year Posted 2015