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She attempted to burn her skin with the mere faucet
But no matter how warm the water became
the only marks on her skin were those previously left
by the hands of the rusty blade - hidden deep within her nightmares

She lay naked on the shower floor
****** legs and ****** arms spread out in front of her
and only she could make out the difference
between her tears and the running water

This child knew in that moment
that her every second on this earth had been a waste.
If only her mother, or the man that claimed to love her
knew just how empty she could feel
they would surely want no part in her disasterous real

So she lay down in the shower
as the water ran cold
and prayed for it drown her
with the small hope that there was still a God to show
The key to women
Is a thinking man
Not a drinking man
Who can open up a
Stinking can of spam

We’ve dealt with a lot
And we know how to spot
The dead end plot
Of men just wanting a fling

We are deep individuals
Not just pretty plated visuals
For you to beep
Whenever you peep
You creep

So give us our props
Then maybe we’ll drop…

You a line or two.
As if you didn't know. The truth is we are all human and deserve to be treated as such. But most importantly, we all have souls, you know, those delicate magical little things inside us all? Speak to each other's soul. That is why poetry is so important. It speaks to what is unseen and true. Remember this. Be playful, spontaneous and protect what is sacred.
 Dec 2015 Chalsey Wilder
Sjr1000
Her hair is blowing
in the high desert
winds
She's gotta
1942 Big Chief engine
between her knees
bequeathed
by her great granddaddy
She's heading up
395
Sierra bound.

She'll tell ya
she's had enough
straight time
driving her far from crazy

Pacing
playing losing aces
pulling her hair
she knew she
just
had to get out of there.

Now the great Mojave
has its expanse
Joshua Trees
they just had to laugh
as she rode by

China Lake
flashing
21st Century
weaponry

Passing through Independence
she's feeling free now

Now I can't say
running away
is
the way

But when your hair
is blowing in the winds
You gotta Big Chief motorcycle
between your legs
and
the ******* aren't stopping
what else can you
say?

Heading to the Sierra
gotta get the mountain view
high above it all
slump those shoulders down
breathe on through

Heading up Big Pine
smelling the Jeffrey Pines
Bishop too
ancient Mono Lake
when it ain't snowing
freedom reigns

Her hair blowing
in the mountain winds
didn't mean anybody
any harm
just had to get
out of there
alive

Bye bye
baby
take care.
A definite nod to Neil Young's "Unknown Legend"
"Somewhere on a desert highway
She rides a Harley-Davidson
Her long blonde hair
flyin' in the wind
She's been runnin' half her life
The chrome and steel she rides
Collidin' with
the very air she breathes
The air she breathes."  
Can't beat Neil's version, recently ran into a version by Shovels and Rope, very cool.
The birth of our day.
All fresh and touched with
The Master's hand
in dewy majesty.

The shell of sky
wet with foamy clouds.

The earth awaits wheeling birds
to rest again - benign in the
trees of their birth.
Burbling and raucous
in their boisterous
roosts.

Cacti creep along the
last vestiges of the
velvet night.

A coyote laughs.

He makes his lone way
up the still, starlit, streets.

And all is embraced by the
embarking orb emanating for eons
from the eastern estuaries.

I write upon mornings
because they are the marks of time
upon beginnings.

The new year begins at midnight.

But the new day?
ahh... the new day begins

with the

SUN.



SoulSurvivor
(C) 12/29/2015
all rights protected
My favorite times of day...
Morning and sunset. I guess because I live
in the desert southwest. The coolest times
while there is still light.

-
raindrops travel
down the pane
no two alike
no path the same

roses blooming
on the heath
are all the same
scent beneath

how alike
and yet diverse
logic rendered
in reverse!

no color
creed
ideology
can make a man
bond or
FREE

let's all move
forward
tho we plod
we're the
manifold
glory
of
a
loving

GOD



Write of Passage aka
Invisible inc aka
SoulSurvivor
(C) 12/29/2015
all rights protected
in the eyes of our
Creator
we are
ALL THE SAME

a begger in Calcutta
is as important as the
Queen of England

can you dig it?


---
have minds like rabbits
and drink black

COFFEE!


[10W]
SoulSurvivor
(C) 12/29/2015
Can anyone relate?

--
MY ART

You are my royalty
my queen
my swan
my red red rose

you who float and rock my sea
lying there beside me
as I dream

the figurehead of my ship
your presence
dominating the scene

you are my sun in winter
my rainbow
in the heat of summers brighter skies

the iris of your eyes
reflect their colours
green and blue

you'll never know
how much I love
love you

my sweetest scent
you're heaven sent

swinging in the branches
of the trees
where nightingales
sing their songs
of sensuous tones

I'll sweep you off your feet
and ride with you
the stallion of the breeze

we'll never part
you are my love
my art

Margaret Ann Waddicor 14th December  2015
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