A funny-looking bunny dropped by the other day
black white and brown fur a stray who'd lost his way
and
he let me hand-feed him with carrot tops
and spinach leaves but that is where familiarity stops
for
neither petting nor patting would he permit
this half-wild half-tame non-cottontail misfit
and when
with leaps and bounds he hopped while binking
around the garden it got me thinking
as
blink for a moment and at the drop of a hat
he'd do the disappearing trick in seconds flat
tho'
here one minute and then gone the next
with a nose that twitches maybe he was hexed
or perhaps
he's an astute old soul reincarnated to inhabit
the space and time of this cute magic rabbit
When the world loves you
You heart beats to a musical tune
You like you whole body
You have engery that soon Take you to the moon
You feel every sunbeam Hit your soul with esteem
Your smile light up the dark
You frolic in the park
Each bite of your daily meals
Hits a ravishing tongue in the feels
You have a great day In each and every way
You can't not be brought down
You love for your friends and family to come round
You wake up in the morning with a spring in your step
You could be patting your beloved pet
Hugging sends vibes to your soul
You feel young you will never grow old
The way you walk is effortless
The forest is calling you to de-stress
Your morning coffee is divine
You take a sip of the finest wine
And think about how great it is To truly be alive
Patting myself on my brown back
My immune system is out of wack
Lupus is flaring I’m in silver sack
Amethyst aches pearly pain is jacked
Sores in the roof of my mouth
Eating and drinking hurts me now
Tender joints not the kind you smoke
That’s a thought maybe I need dope
Poetry relief to red rescue me
That potd was at cost you see
I write better when I don’t whine
Like this poem does in every line
Lupus wolf howls in my aching face
I just want it to go amber away
But for the butterfly’s I must share this
Rainbows in the sky as some die, AWARENESS
Push- by Dominique Smith
Push through they say, keep pushing my way, dark cold wet sorrows and woes, spring comes for flowers and pressed for beauty. Hold on not yet, push down and keep it there.
Others aren't watching no one cares. That's not true or fair enough to get yourself near some warmth. So many lives are effected by lies and rejection. I try so hard, smile as the world throws eggs and expensive items in your face body and hair. Push through they say they have to keep you at a distance why patting your back. They have lives and they share but your story is for bed time and the snores you hear.
Keep it pushing, A saying in itself. Meaning I dont have the time to pretend I feel your pain. I don't celebrate your wins but I touch your shoulder to give you the illusion that I didn't know your failure was close. Like the shadow in the corner that followed you since the moment you were pushed into the spring from the cold dark wet obiss
Strong Characters and intriguing plots
Universal themes with a strong vision
that details the story and enhance
the story telling abilities for the actors involved.
It all ready compliments all of those
involved: patting the back
of anyone who wishes and is blessed
to be considered and accepted in the research,
writing and overall creation
of this great story. It will inspire
generations and will
help create a new way forward
by detail the effects of fiction characters
where those who wish to create might see
the model as a guideline
to the overall success of the finished product.
Setting the standard for science and art alike.
In reference to all things big and small
that needs creation and ought to be in existence.
Down the road graphic to make designer
inspired enough to perform!
The Technical Engineering Page!
Was that me?
from that introvert freak
timid
confused
always trying to please others
so they will not criticize me
coming out of the shell
was so difficult
but
I managed slowly
by
learning new things every day
counting on small achievements
patting my own back
rewarding herself
taking the remote control
of happiness
in my own hands
gaining confidence bit by bit
no more begging for appreciation
no more copying others
no more fear of rejection
still caring and loving people
Often asking the mirror
was that weak-willed
really me?
My love was wrapped into gestures
Instead of words
Into concerns and nagging
Teasing and smiling
The sigh I gave in fondness
Whenever you pouted over something
When I remembered what mattered
Beyond days and nights
The favorite coffee, the way you slept
Not the product name
But I knew your soap smell
My love was wrapped into doing
Instead of saying
Leaving an extra blanket
An umbrella, a small question
Sparing a smile when I did not feel like
Pulling you tight, it will be alright
Patting your head in praise
Letting you stay or go
Whatever will let your rise
My love was wrapped bittersweet
Instead of angel like
You had to look to find
The sugary parts
Taste it thoroughly before
Leaving a mark
It carried a tinge that will last
Beyond the first touch
Like a faded mingle in future
Of a memorable past.
Rolling your eyes, the chair in your hand fronting me,
pulling my backpack with both hands, eyebrow risen,
movement of mine you quickly stepping aside holding the back of your backpack, the accidently touch I did, you making yourself tiny near the window, smile lines sink in a dismissive face.
When you were heading on side I knew you were uninterested,
I knew when you were laying back you didn't even listen,
I knew when held your both hands together down your stomach you are bored,
I knew when you were quickly making your work and smiled at me, it was a mocking one.
I knew when you looked at me while you talked, you were trying to make me uncomfortable.
When you repeated my words ironically to the teacher I knew you were annoyed.
I knew when you often forgot things and were lost you were mad.
But that day,
when your Hand laid on your chest while patting,
I knew you were counting heartbeats to regulate your breath rhythm.
Your hands never held your backpack but now it grabbed it tight.
If I just knew your body languge,
was your,
coping mechanism.
Dragon is stopped by a creature with a child.
He has a bad temper, has never been mild.
I am a monster he tells her, wild, wild, wild.
Creature with the child gives him a smile.
I need you to babysit Kyle for a little while.
Watch the young one? He coughs up bile.
You can do it! She says, patting him on the snout.
He does not know whether to cry, whine, throw a dragon fit or pout.
But babysits the creature, and finds out….
He likes this little one
Because he brings all kinds of fun.
Look out you might see them
scuttling down your street
patting the neighbour’s dog
nodding to people they meet
They lurk on hospital corridors
wearing their black shiny shoes
then scour obituary columns
for all their latest news
They follow people on stretchers
to sickbeds, funerals, and wakes
asking for extra cups of tea
turning their nose up at cake
They might just take an interest,
if you should start to feel ill
checking on your temperature
your welfare and your will
So, keep your curtains closed tonight
lock all your windows and doors
the graveyard groupies are coming
it’s you they’re looking for…
If, into my future, I get a sudden chance to peep
I'd choose my ninety-fourth birthday hoping am still alive;
My mother left us at that ripe age while still in good health,
not live long, but I'd be happy to witness the scene live;
It is not my desire to be a freaky immortal;
From ninety-four, it's Test Cricket, just singles with my bat;
I wish to see what things would be on that momentous day
And to score a grand century is what I'm aiming at;
I need to be ethereally there cutting the cake
With my wife, those who matter, egging me for an encore;
All of us encouraging and back-patting each other
It's what I want to see in future, and what years I score;
My ninety-fourth birthday event is what I want to see,
But I also know that life is cruel and a known tease;
We can never know when and where our breath will be snuffed out
When we shall dance, sing and when our life will come to a cease.
Into my future, If I get a sudden chance to peep
I'd choose my ninety-fourth birthday hoping am still alive
My mother left us at that ripe age while still in good health
not live long, but I'd be happy to witness the scene live
It is not my desire to be a freaky immortal
From ninety-four, it's Test Cricket, just singles with my bat
I wish to see what things would be on that momentous day
And to score a grand century is what I'm aiming at
I need to be ethereally there cutting the cake
With my wife, those who matter, egging me for an encore
All of us encouraging and back-patting each other
It's what I want to see in future, and what years I score
My ninety-fourth birthday event is what I want to see
But I also know that life is cruel and a known tease
We can never know when and where our breath will be snuffed out
When we shall dance, sing and when our life will come to a cease
'
i met her
in
Old City
Philadelphia
on a bench
the park bench
she wuz
patting my forehead
with the
cool damp cloth
my wake
wow
She had those
I never knew eyne
‘emerald care’
“ i
pray he’z
Single”
stare
NOT ON THE LIST
I assumed the mantle of an entitled snob
Pushing toward the bouncer in a tuxedo
Some bruiser of a guy, but it’s just a job
I suspect that he had an unsatisfied libido
Patting down the girls for guns and stuff
But I wonder, why does it affect me so
After a few minutes I had seen enough
I stepped forward with my clenched fist
Hoping after all, that he wasn’t so tough
He smiled that satisfied grin and hissed
Sorry old fellah, you’re not on the list
He turned off the running water,
soaped his face not glancing at the mirror,
a long night ahead.
He had four shadows
on the four walls of this rental,
not a good sign.
When later he turned the bedside light on,
the glowing silhouette of his head on the pillow
burgeoned, swelling upwards until
it pancaked on the ceiling above.
Still groggy after the hashish
still psychoactive,
he got dressed.
Out walking the dark Luxor streets
he found a coffee shop still open.
The thick sweet brew was served to him,
a lime green dwarf
sporting a banana yellow fez.
Never again he thought,
patting his pockets hoping to find
some curative cancer sticks.
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