at Peace    1969 -    248 followers
Remember this,
To be touched
is not just
Fingertips on skin
Hugs of the soul
are a deeper embrace
They reach beyond
the human face
to see where
you truly begin
~ Helen 26/12/13

'When the time comes
place the coin,
beneath my tongue
so I may pay
Charon!
Or else my
journey
has scarce begun'
~ Helen 01/12/13
Remember this,
To be touched
is not just
Fingertips on skin
Hugs of the soul
are a deeper embrace
They reach beyond
the human face
to see where
you truly begin
~ Helen 26/12/13

'When the time comes
place the coin,
beneath my tongue
so I may pay
Charon!
Or else my
journey
has scarce begun'
~ Helen 01/12/13
Helen
Helen
1 hour ago      18 minutes ago

but, in my defence
I'm thinking,
give me a 4 day weekend
and a fridge
full of Wine
and I'll forget
a lot of things :)

Helen
Helen
2 hours ago

don't blame me because
the sand in your vagina
is irritating you
go take a shower
and while you're at it
shave that pathetic excuse
of bum fluff you call a beard
from your perfect face
and while you're at it
wash away
the verbal diarrhoea
caught in the corner
of perfectly firmed lips
and while you're at it
practice in front of the mirror
saying
I can only criticise
when I'm more perfect
than you

then come back to me
apologise
and say something new

a constant source of amusement to me is comments :) a constant source of inspiration also :)
Helen
Helen
2 hours ago

Forget that!

For the love of me,

Stike the match!

  Reposted by Helen  ·  2 days ago
Marshal Gebbie
Marshal Gebbie
2 days ago      1 day ago

Neath the pale and crescent moon
I saunter with the call of loon,
This haunting note through reeds on lake
Reflected moonlit ripples make.
I pause to ponder beauty stark
Of monochrome in Willmont Park,
In sillouhette of black and white
Through lakeside, rippled reeds at night.
Again the call of haunting loon
In silver light's reflected moon,
The chill air causing breath to cloud
My footfall crunch in sand, too loud,
Distracting me from beautious sight
Of moonlit lake on darkest night.
And yet again that haunting call
To conjour Willmont's phantom shawl,
Descending mist now brings the damp
Necessitating my decamp....
So.... with regret, I disembark
From gracious, moonlit Willmont Park.

M.
April 19 2014

Helen
Helen
3 days ago

We met in high school
(I won't count this as a year
but I fear you didn't
remember me as I did you)

I : (1989)
we met again
when your best friend
engaged to mine
I bought the tequila
you bought the limes

II III IV : (1990 -1993)
we dated
on and off
(even though you asked me
to be your bride
1 week after
our friends
engagement party)

V : (1994)
we moved together
to Mackay, away from
your family, great for you,
for mine, I cried

VI:  (1995)
we married
after our Son was born
perhaps you thought
it was time
(I never understood
the delay, I mourned)

VII : (1996)
we struggled
to be partners
and parents

VIII : (1997)
I birthed another Son
we were so happy
Life had
truly begun

IX : (1998)
Two little boys
so opposite
from their
Father and Mother
we still struggled
(but we had each other)

X:  (1999)
You decided your place
in this world
I surprised you
with a trip to Ireland
(you didn't want
to leave your girl,
but you couldn't wait
to meet family)

XI : (2000)
It all fell apart...
minding your own business
on your motorcycle
some stupid driver
ripped you apart

XII XIII XIV (2001 - 2003)
It was just me
paying bills
with no money
feeding kids
on love and honey
endless appointments
with doctors and shrinks
(did anybody think
I'd need a shrink?)
I never blinked, not once

XV : (2004)
You asked for more
another child you said
as affirmation you are not dead
so I bore you a daughter
at 35 ...
(the same year I took you
to the veterinary clinic
to be fixed, well...
it WAS just like
dropping the dog off)

XVI to Present (2005 to Today)
We still struggle
with day to day trouble
but for every year
we survived
I'll give you another,
and a high five

Oh.....
and a
I Love You

  Reposted by Helen  ·  4 days ago
Raygan Keller
Raygan Keller
4 days ago

You say you want to fuck me.
You say that it’s your right.
I said I do and now I don’t,
Something’s wrong with me deep inside.
You’ll fix it by sticking it in.
You’ll envelop me in paroxyms of pleasure,
You’ll change my mood, you’ll change my life.
I’ll be reborn, at peace fulfilled.
I need a good fuck, it will save my soul.
What’s wrong with me is no fucking.

Well, I’ve been fucked by the steward
In the bathroom on the ship.
I’ve been fucked by the doctor before I knew what hit.
I’ve been fucked by the jock on
The trunk of his car.
I’ve been fucked by the soldier
Trying to forget the war.

I’ve been fucked by the musician
Who used the word love.
I’ve been fucked by the devil
Who fucked me up good.
The butcher, the baker, the candlestick maker,
They’ve all pumped it into me.
And in the end it did no good.
My soul still looks to me.

I don’t know how you feel you say.
I do.  You want to fuck.
Your needs must be assuaged you say.
Then take care of business.  I wish you luck.
Listen to the words of the gingerbread man,
Find someone else to fuck.

You can fuck the woman
You can fuck the man
You can fuck the cow
You can fuck the pig
You can shoot your wad
In the deep blue sea.
You can even fuck your mother
But you can’t fuck me!

This poem was written by my mother.  She divorced my father over 30 years ago, and hasn't been with a man since.  She is extremely introverted, completely the opposite of me.   Even though I looked like a mini-her with my blond hair and blue eyes, I was convinced that we were so different, that I must have been adopted.

One day, when I was a  horrible teenager, I decided to go through her things and I found a pile of letters that were mailed to her before I was born, and still sealed.  I only opened one before I knew I did something really terrible, so I tried to glue it back together, hoping she wouldn't notice.  She got pretty upset when she discovered I opened it, but I couldn't help but ask questions.  What is this?  Did you write this?  Why did you send it to yourself?  Is this based on true events?  She shared some of her writing with me that day, and it was then that I knew without a doubt, she made me.

There is a part of her that will be hidden away in the envelopes of poor man's copyright forever.  She is a brilliant writer, an amazing teacher, and her influence is in everything I write.
#mom   #inspire   #brilliant  
Helen
Helen
4 days ago

stupid Smart phone
just deleted
one of my poems

ahhh fuck

Did I have back up?

Nup

Just remember it titled

ahhh fuck!

a popular wording
of how I was feeling
unable reproduce it
word for word

how absurd!
I wanted to read it
Hit delete
It said are you sure?
I said ok

and it went away :(

ahhh fuck!

Think it's time to put these drunken fat fingers to bed... They are obviously no match for a smart phone :(
 
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