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christopher-dancy
christopher-dancy
American just a guy with a sense of humor, creative flair for painting and writing poetry
Flickering flames, Elemental spirit, Beautiful yet untamed I bask in the warmth of your light Your motherly love generous and unrestrained With every child like curiosity, I am drawn near Wild eyed and adventurous In Uninhibited fear I am choked by your toxic fumes By your heat I'm consumed To get too close, dare I? I am hopelessly doomed Yet with every flicker Of your ****** dance I am drawn into you through a hypnotic trance We turn and we turn We burn and we burn Until out of control Loves inferno unfolds Like a raging wildfire Hot passions spread Consuming every fiber Of human resistant thread Until like two small dying Embers of light In each others arms We reach a climactic height Two flames weak and exhausted Extinguished by the night Flickering flame, Elemental spirit, Beautiful yet untamed Fire is your name.
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Aug 7, 2013
Aug 7, 2013 at 10:02 PM UTC
Fire
A toast! To My gentleman ghost, my friend, Though in the daylight his daunting form I cannot see The perfect host he is me. At night he makes his way down the winding stairs, As master of the house he has no need to put on airs. He asks ,”if there’s anything I need or lack” and offers to take my coat and hat. Though no form in the flesh to addressed I see, A cold and imperceptible hand he extends to me. Of each room in the house he gives me a guided tour, then bidding me good night, He, slowly behind him closes my chamber door. His dense footsteps fade against the rickety aged floor until deafened by the dead silence I can perceive them no more. Late in the night I hear him roaming around, Doing whatever ghost do and making moaning sounds. But he’s considerably polite not to wake the town, Ah, yes my gentleman ghost friend. As all about me is settled and still, Suddenly, with this melancholy and melodious sound the chilling air all around me fills. For somewhere in the house in some adjoining room A grand piano plays a daunting tune. “TIS some clever guest who plays”, I hastily presumed. So I rush down the stairway by a single candle lights flare, Just to reach the distinct place only to find that no one is there. Yet, as though possessed by some invisible entity the piano it plays, By this display alone I am bewildered, spooked and amazed. Suddenly, a hazy yet discrete specter I clear as day could see Of what seemed some distinct gentleman sitting with his back facing me. By the light of a candle I draw closer to get some better clue, “Ah, my gentleman ghost friend (I sigh in relief) clearly it is only you” Slowly, he turns to face me and asks “by chance, do you play”? Therefore all that evening in the company of my gentleman ghost, as his guest I did stay. To the first light of morning I awakened rested and yawning. Still replaying in my head like a dream from the night before was that melody so hypnotically charming. When besides me on the table I find a little note, in the hand of my gentleman ghost And this is what he wrote, “I regret I cannot join you, I’m afraid I must decline, Since I never appear in daylight and I rarely ever dine. So, at this heavenly spread set before me I am left to dine alone, I am left without another friendly face before me, or pleasing voice to set the tone. Shut up in this old house, with each passing moment I spend. He stands there in the shadows waiting, on my comforts eager to attend. Like a fog gliding down that staircase, he with ease descends, To demonstrate some token of friendly gesture his kindness to extend His footsteps though, I cannot trace, but his presence I can feel. I never see him throughout the day but at night he appears at will. Among the living a kinder soul to me has never been, None came as close to even surpass in charm or civility to that of my gentleman ghost, my friend. In time this house has come to be my home though empty it may seem, Yet this it makes up for the times spent alone with misplaced spirits that it brings. And now these corridors haunt us together, my gentleman ghost and I, As we both wait to play the perfect host to whomever come stopping by.
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Aug 7, 2013
Aug 7, 2013 at 9:57 PM UTC
My Gentleman Ghost
A toast! To My gentleman ghost, my friend, Though in the daylight his daunting form I cannot see The perfect host he is me. At night he makes his way down the winding stairs, As master of the house he has no need to put on airs. He asks ,”if there’s anything I need or lack” and offers to take my coat and hat. Though no form in the flesh to addressed I see, A cold and imperceptible hand he extends to me. Of each room in the house he gives me a guided tour, then bidding me good night, He, slowly behind him closes my chamber door. His dense footsteps fade against the rickety aged floor until deafened by the dead silence I can perceive them no more. Late in the night I hear him roaming around, Doing whatever ghost do and making moaning sounds. But he’s considerably polite not to wake the town, Ah, yes my gentleman ghost friend. As all about me is settled and still, Suddenly, with this melancholy and melodious sound the chilling air all around me fills. For somewhere in the house in some adjoining room A grand piano plays a daunting tune. “TIS some clever guest who plays”, I hastily presumed. So I rush down the stairway by a single candle lights flare, Just to reach the distinct place only to find that no one is there. Yet, as though possessed by some invisible entity the piano it plays, By this display alone I am bewildered, spooked and amazed. Suddenly, a hazy yet discrete specter I clear as day could see Of what seemed some distinct gentleman sitting with his back facing me. By the light of a candle I draw closer to get some better clue, “Ah, my gentleman ghost friend (I sigh in relief) clearly it is only you” Slowly, he turns to face me and asks “by chance, do you play”? Therefore all that evening in the company of my gentleman ghost, as his guest I did stay. To the first light of morning I awakened rested and yawning. Still replaying in my head like a dream from the night before was that melody so hypnotically charming. When besides me on the table I find a little note, in the hand of my gentleman ghost And this is what he wrote, “I regret I cannot join you, I’m afraid I must decline, Since I never appear in daylight and I rarely ever dine. So, at this heavenly spread set before me I am left to dine alone, I am left without another friendly face before me, or pleasing voice to set the tone. Shut up in this old house, with each passing moment I spend. He stands there in the shadows waiting, on my comforts eager to attend. Like a fog gliding down that staircase, he with ease descends, To demonstrate some token of friendly gesture his kindness to extend His footsteps though, I cannot trace, but his presence I can feel. I never see him throughout the day but at night he appears at will. Among the living a kinder soul to me has never been, None came as close to even surpass in charm or civility to that of my gentleman ghost, my friend. In time this house has come to be my home though empty it may seem, Yet this it makes up for the times spent alone with misplaced spirits that it brings. And now these corridors haunt us together, my gentleman ghost and I, As we both wait to play the perfect host to whomever come stopping by.
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There stood a crow outside my window With hard coals for eyes that peered straight through to limbo At times it seemed it could see straight through me Into some futuristic omen only it could foresee. This reaper so grim, dark, stately, and trim sat there quiet patiently high perched on a limb. It was such a curious yet an eerie sort of bird, just gawking at me while not saying a word. And if it opened its mouth what words would it speak, perhaps some wisdom of Plato, or some poetry from Keats? I admit the strange creature I found a bit curious, yet its boisterous silence made me nothing but furious. So on opposite sides of the window we remain, With it picking its plumage and I wracking my brain. At length could I no longer stand my callers silent duration, So I pulled up a chair to make light conversation. Finally, I came to myself and thought it absurd, to sit at a window and talk to a bird. Quickly I grew weary of my persistent guest, and with a wave of my hand yelled “away with you pest”! With that the crow returned with a courteous bow, there followed by a flapping of its wings It let out a loud caw!! I thought to myself, what could all of this mean, Surely subconsciously I’m having a dream? Till out of deep contemplation I abruptly was shaken By a sound so familiar it could not be mistaken. For above me frantically fluttering to each corner of my room This bird like a banshee pronounced prophesies of doom. Caw, caw! Caw, caw! It repeated the same, as the first time it came calling at my window pane. For a moment it sat there just gawking at the foot of my bed, frantically flapping its wings and bobbing its head. Just for a moment peered I through those embers for eyes, and got a flicker of a glimpse of my foretelling demise. Cursed me! I thought, this is the telling of my end, for over my head my shadow descends. To my feathered reaper I pleaded and prayed that by some miracle this death sentence might somehow be stayed. Has my plea come too late, Has Death sealed my fate? At last I am making provisions for my own funeral wake. Suddenly, in relief my visage was lifted, for from the claim for my soul, that reapers focus soon shifted. It was there in the corner of its eye by the flicker of candle light, That something slick and shiny caught fancy to its sight. Suddenly, it swooped upon it without a moment's delay. Seizing the object in its beak and out the window it flew away. Since then I sit and ponder how once I cheated death Now the nightmares haunt me no longer, and the crow has long since left. And so I sit here waiting at the spot where it all began for the call of an old feathered acquaintance whom once I invited in. But no more upon that branch would the shadow of those black wings descend. No more would the crows caw, caw! Come calling, No more at my window again.
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Aug 7, 2013
Aug 7, 2013 at 9:50 PM UTC
The Crows Caw
There stood a crow outside my window With hard coals for eyes that peered straight through to limbo At times it seemed it could see straight through me Into some futuristic omen only it could foresee. This reaper so grim, dark, stately, and trim sat there quiet patiently high perched on a limb. It was such a curious yet an eerie sort of bird, just gawking at me while not saying a word. And if it opened its mouth what words would it speak, perhaps some wisdom of Plato, or some poetry from Keats? I admit the strange creature I found a bit curious, yet its boisterous silence made me nothing but furious. So on opposite sides of the window we remain, With it picking its plumage and I wracking my brain. At length could I no longer stand my callers silent duration, So I pulled up a chair to make light conversation. Finally, I came to myself and thought it absurd, to sit at a window and talk to a bird. Quickly I grew weary of my persistent guest, and with a wave of my hand yelled “away with you pest”! With that the crow returned with a courteous bow, there followed by a flapping of its wings It let out a loud caw!! I thought to myself, what could all of this mean, Surely subconsciously I’m having a dream? Till out of deep contemplation I abruptly was shaken By a sound so familiar it could not be mistaken. For above me frantically fluttering to each corner of my room This bird like a banshee pronounced prophesies of doom. Caw, caw! Caw, caw! It repeated the same, as the first time it came calling at my window pane. For a moment it sat there just gawking at the foot of my bed, frantically flapping its wings and bobbing its head. Just for a moment peered I through those embers for eyes, and got a flicker of a glimpse of my foretelling demise. Cursed me! I thought, this is the telling of my end, for over my head my shadow descends. To my feathered reaper I pleaded and prayed that by some miracle this death sentence might somehow be stayed. Has my plea come too late, Has Death sealed my fate? At last I am making provisions for my own funeral wake. Suddenly, in relief my visage was lifted, for from the claim for my soul, that reapers focus soon shifted. It was there in the corner of its eye by the flicker of candle light, That something slick and shiny caught fancy to its sight. Suddenly, it swooped upon it without a moment's delay. Seizing the object in its beak and out the window it flew away. Since then I sit and ponder how once I cheated death Now the nightmares haunt me no longer, and the crow has long since left. And so I sit here waiting at the spot where it all began for the call of an old feathered acquaintance whom once I invited in. But no more upon that branch would the shadow of those black wings descend. No more would the crows caw, caw! Come calling, No more at my window again.
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I often see you there washing your long dark hair I sit and watch you bathing nude Though my presents your not aware The loveliness of your body Upon a man can't help but stare To hold you in my arms As though we were a pair Embraced as two fund lovers Naked to the eyes of others Unashamed And without a care
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Aug 5, 2013
Aug 5, 2013 at 10:06 PM UTC
Wanting
Within its throat A songbird chokes up a somber note While perched high upon a dying limb Beneath a winter morning cloak Under a heavy heart And heavy wings By nature its given as its charge A dirge to sing Far from the falsetto of its awakening cheer Trilling at my window it would often appear In deep dejection and reluctantly It chooses its song in D minor key The saddest key of them all to me And with a thump! Dead it falls to the ground Of all its songs come early morning round Perhaps, this is to me the saddest sound
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Aug 5, 2013
Aug 5, 2013 at 10:02 PM UTC
Dirge
When evening resumes And the play of clouds and the light of the moon come together From high in His heaven God is amused By the friskiness of a cat chasing its shadow It bounces And pounces And acrobatically leaps Landing with ease On its tiny snow capped Feet It chases its shadow Around and around Pawing at it As it reflects on the ground Till upon its tail and between its ears Finally daylight appears And quietly it creeps To find A cat and its shadow Curled in a ball, Purring, Fast asleep
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Aug 5, 2013
Aug 5, 2013 at 9:51 PM UTC
The Cat and Its Shadow
Life’s roads are full of twists and turns Quickly as friendships are built bridges we burn When from a lifelong love our heart towards another is turned And trust once had now is harder earned And Soon with age and experience Time may confirm In these relationships we form We live and learn
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Aug 5, 2013
Aug 5, 2013 at 9:46 PM UTC
Life’s Roads
Old wounds time does mend, Broken hearts of lovers. Sharp words between good friends, In saying I'm sorry, A healing salve can cover. But only blood of close knit kin, Can bring a brother to forgive his brother.
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Aug 5, 2013
Aug 5, 2013 at 9:44 PM UTC
Remedies
Old houses speak Dark secrets they leak Storm weathered Never settled Full of cracks and creeks Antique furniture exposed Wear and tear from past souls Resembled ghost in white sheets Laughter and movement Once known now abandoned Vacant and alone Years of neglect is all that’s shown The occupancy of life long gone Pane- less windows Like eyeless souls Let in only darkness dampness Mildew and cold A door once accustomed of permitting things in Now warns to keep out Refusing its hospitality to extend By chance you pass one's way Or turn there in Its rickety corridors try not to disturb Or its vestiges offend For old houses are sensitive To the vibes we send Old houses speak
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Aug 5, 2013
Aug 5, 2013 at 9:36 PM UTC
Old Houses Speak
I remember when the circus first came to town, The village people eagerly came to see from all around. Every wild animal on wheels was caged in tow, followed by colorful clad characters on foot sure to give a spectacular show. I remember when I first entered beneath the great big tent and caught the grand act of the peculiar pink elephant. Get Your Peanuts, Popcorn, and Hot Dogs Here!  The Concessionaire yells in a hearty cheer. The taste of cotton candy, the sounds, smells and the sights, Above me a man balances on a tight rope from a view of an incredible height. For the kids, clowns twist and shaped balloons in all odd kind of forms, And stuffed themselves in a tiny car with a toot, toot of a funny sounding horn. The feathered ladies on horseback perform daring acrobatic stunts, as in place the horses prance and dance in a parade of extraordinary pomp. All eyes are on the lion tamer in his tails and fancy top hat twirling a chair and cracking a whip at the growl of the big man eating cat. Tigers jumped through flaming hoops, as human cannonballs towards  the sky their bodies shoot. Little doggies do flips for their treats as acrobats fly through the air performing death defying feats, Or what could be more delightful to see than a bear riding a unicycle or perhaps even three? Finally, comes the grand finale, then soon it is time to go home, the tents have been folded the rides have been loaded the performers and the animals have all gone. On their parents strong shoulder kids are carried off in their sleep with sweet dreams of, fun rides and toy prizes, and candy apple treats. Ferris wheels and merry go rounds, the bearded fat lady weighing a hundred pounds. I remember a girl on a wire, the boy that spits fire a man with his head in the jaws of a tiger. Reminiscing of the time when the circus first came to town And the village people eagerly came to see from all around.
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Aug 5, 2013
Aug 5, 2013 at 8:26 AM UTC
When the Circus Came to Town
I remember when the circus first came to town, The village people eagerly came to see from all around. Every wild animal on wheels was caged in tow, followed by colorful clad characters on foot sure to give a spectacular show. I remember when I first entered beneath the great big tent and caught the grand act of the peculiar pink elephant. Get Your Peanuts, Popcorn, and Hot Dogs Here!  The Concessionaire yells in a hearty cheer. The taste of cotton candy, the sounds, smells and the sights, Above me a man balances on a tight rope from a view of an incredible height. For the kids, clowns twist and shaped balloons in all odd kind of forms, And stuffed themselves in a tiny car with a toot, toot of a funny sounding horn. The feathered ladies on horseback perform daring acrobatic stunts, as in place the horses prance and dance in a parade of extraordinary pomp. All eyes are on the lion tamer in his tails and fancy top hat twirling a chair and cracking a whip at the growl of the big man eating cat. Tigers jumped through flaming hoops, as human cannonballs towards  the sky their bodies shoot. Little doggies do flips for their treats as acrobats fly through the air performing death defying feats, Or what could be more delightful to see than a bear riding a unicycle or perhaps even three? Finally, comes the grand finale, then soon it is time to go home, the tents have been folded the rides have been loaded the performers and the animals have all gone. On their parents strong shoulder kids are carried off in their sleep with sweet dreams of, fun rides and toy prizes, and candy apple treats. Ferris wheels and merry go rounds, the bearded fat lady weighing a hundred pounds. I remember a girl on a wire, the boy that spits fire a man with his head in the jaws of a tiger. Reminiscing of the time when the circus first came to town And the village people eagerly came to see from all around.
Continue reading...
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