Walking across the grass, tall, unopposed, well dressed as always.
I say to my brother, must we talk?
He nods.
I hug and kiss his cheek.
He appears a picture of health.
A mild concerned look on his face,
yet he says that he is happy.
I seek out my sisters to visit with Paul.
I know that they must, for time is the essence.
From nowhere my mother appears.
Her fragile frame dressed as always, so elegantly.
I ask. Am I going to heaven?
She leans back,
eyes slightly closed, as if to hold a secret.
"God will not let me say" she replies.
As I pass by, a mother holding her baby,
I look to the baby.
You know don't you?
The baby smiles, not able to speak, but she understands.
Seeking to inform this mother, I encounter another.
a family holding three tiny bodies the size of my hand.
Would you like to hold one? I do.
I begin to nourish this child. As
It grow in my hand it smiles
as if to say thank you.
I awake! I ask myself, am I forgiven?
Surely there is hope.
Just the way he moves, the way he talks
The things he says, the way he talks
The way he does the special things he can do
He's a man on the make, a man to look up to
The threads he wears, the places he eats
He's a man to get to know, a man to meet
The sports coupe he drives makes the road come alive
He smiles, the world glows; waters swirl and flow
He's the picture of health, a man of immense wealth
Dynamic, not static; yet all the same, enigmatic
Friends he counts none; passing acquaintances, one
He's a man on the make, with no place in the sun
I don’t need God,
I’ve got cable’
I don’t go to church,
Even though I am able.
I don’t need God,
I’ve got a cell phone,
As long as someone calls,
I am never alone.
I don’t need God,
I’ve got a roof over my head,
No rain will touch me,
Safe in my warm bed.
I don’t need God,
I’ve got plenty of food,
No hunger in my life,
I eat when I am in the mood.
I don’t need God,
I’ve got fine clothes on my back,
I never feel the cold,
Many shoes on my rack.
I don’t need God,
I’ve got all the latest toys,
To impress all who see me,
With flashing lights and noise.
I don’t need God,
I’m the picture of health,
Secure in my plan,
For fortune and wealth.
I don’t need God,
I have technology, buzzers and bells,
My computer and programs tell me,
I can take care of myself, all is well.
I don’t need God,
Many times I say,
Nothing is grater than me,
I’ll worry about my soul some other day.
mr. macy
picture of health
now sounds like mr. troutman
thinking about mouth to stoma
thinking about the whiskers growing
thinking about the phlegm now having a new exit
ms. pennymarker
picture of health
now sounds like the small wonder girl
thinking about mouth to stoma
thinking about the new rudiments of swallowing food
thinking about the regrets now suddenly at the surface
My body's on screen
The see through of me
And I'm clean
Never felt so free
My hearts a machine
My lungs make me breath
Their function is seen
The picture of health was my dream
I stand here and work
My glowing metalurg
My magic is out
On a truck and then a plane
All around your world
Health's our life
We work it right
Crystal clear
Like the sun in all its might
The rainbows shine
After rains
We strive
To make you smile
We have actively
enhanced a life
We tare atoms apart
We radiate from the past
Cleanse without a knife
Actively enhancing life
Make it count
Think it safe
Make it count
Watch your way
Stay a hand
In the way
Of cancer
Everyday
Mrs. Claus said "Santa you're getting awfully big"
Santa held onto his beer and took another swig.
Sure he was bigger, somewhat chubbier in the face.
When he got up from the chair, his heart began to race.
He said " Stop badgering me woman, I am okay."
He went off to find the reindeer and hook up the sleigh.
He said to the reindeer "Let's take the sleigh out for fun!"
Rudolph said " forget about it, you weigh half a ton."
Rudolph had been a bit nervous, his nose had gone dim.
He said "My dear friend Santa please go to the gym"
Santa could not deny it, he'd let himself go.
He had kept eating and continuing to grow.
So off to the gym, many cobwebs to clean.
With a whole lot of effort, our Santa would be lean.
As he started pumping iron, pounds melted away.
His one and only goal, he achieved in seven days.
So now our dear old Santa, he's a picture of health.
Now that he's so much thinner, he moves with greater stealth.
Please don't leave him cookies, forget about the milk.
Perhaps some sexy boxers, Mrs. Claus prefers them silk.
For Debbie Guzzi's Santa Claus Contest
Written December 31, 2013.
Happy New Years to all my friends here at the Soup!
Let her be the very picture of health to you
touch her soul with the fragrance of a profound "Red Rose."
Let her melt into oblivion when you speak the hidden thoughts
of love that you forgot to say.
Then take her in your mighty arms of gentleness and strength,
to secure her safety in the wake of another's jealousy.
Then together, let the both of you gaze upon The Heavens, only
to Praise God for giving each other to each other.
Then freely, without restraint, let the inferno of your love engulf you
both to a timeless place where the love of mind, body, and soul will be suffice.
Either her or him on Valentine:)
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