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Love the little spider
Who naturally spins
its thin silken web
Love the little pig
Who is so happy
just to play in the mud
Love the little worm
Who is blind
but still tunnels the Earth
Love the little girl
Who hides herself
behind all those books
Because aside from what
other people may say
Everything that has been called
ugly
Will show you true beauty
some day
With love, kelsey
Curiouser
And
Curiouser
I follow you
down
  down
    down
      Into the most
       Odd little world of
         Madness and magic
           Jubjub and Jabberwocky
              Red-painted white roses;
                 Such a beautiful adventure
                      I have only dreamt about.
                    Still I'm bothered by how,
                   Even in a place like this,
               You only think of the time.
            My dearest white rabbit,
         I would truly hate to see
     All of Wonderland
  go and
pass
you
by.
With love, kelsey
Josiah Jack
never uttered a sound
when they dragged him away
from the scene.
when his poor body
was eventually found,
the treatment endured,
had been mean.

With no tongue in his head
they had left him for dead.

With a month
on his back,
he did indeed
contemplate.
Only sin
“he was black”
hence forth
this weary state.

They attacked in the night,
hooded and white.

All in all
he was
lucky
to be
breathing at all,
all because
he was plucky,
all because
he stood tall.

A ***** they said
should lower his head.

Were they hooded
for fear?
Were they hooded
in shame?
Most likely,
once covered,
they could hide
of their name.

If things were so right,
why hide out of sight?

Bravery isn't
a word for the ****,
Cowards,
this word comes to mind.
Bravery comes
when there's only one man,
not one
with ten more stood behind.

I will strike in a pack
with someone watching my back.

Their plan
was to ****,
this man
Josiah Jack.
Perhaps they
get a thrill
when someone
cannot fight back.

They get real loud
when they join with the crowd.

Josiah
knew well
that if he
raised a hand
his kin folk
would feel hell
from this
unruly band.

So he did not fight
but gave in to his plight.

They think
they were hidden
beneath that
white hood,
Josiah's hearing
is sound
and his
memory is good.

So when things are forgot,
he will take of his lot.

That's exactly
what happened,
as they lay
in their bed.
The flames hurled
with fury
the sky
filled with red.

This man barbequed them like fish on a rack
and no one put it down to Josiah Jack.
13th July 2015
© Copyright Christopher K Bayliss 2014
I've written one or two just for you.
A feeling turned thought.
Add it to the pool.
Chaos for a swim.
Cancerous muddy ink of mind.
Maimed and ugly - it's mine.


I have a thought that defines you so clearly.
Tighten all my vowels and trim the fat.
Only...
You've come back to me like this stray cat.
Your a thought unsatisfied unfulfilled unfinished.
I had chipped and chipped away.
You're unblemished.
Forever swirling in my ink.
Done with you never.
Is what I'm starting to think.
© All Rights Reserved Jack Thompson 2015
Life  is merely
a series
of before and afters
      begininngs and endings,
    
Sometimes we
are a fortune's king,
    weilding the key
to open
or close doors.

Other times,
our control is lost
and a line is drawn
    by the sword of a skillful hand
marking
         a change of heart
or opportunity.

Inevitably, death bows
to the governing power of Chronus
    holding time in his hands
  
But in between
the before and afters,
and the beginnings and endings
are moments.

   defining
turning
    quiet
stolen
of no return


Moments

The rhythmic newborn baby's cry,
    goodbyes that cast a shadow,
songs filled with Heaven's joy?
kisses that taste of forever,
      breezes that dance with the angels
   or quarrels armed with poison.
  
Moments

Some left with arms reaching
      for they were missed.
 a hesitant heart refusing love
words left unspoken
     time not taken
forgiveness held captive

Looking back
at memories held,
    moments have brought
light and darkness
but the missed moments
    have left the deepest scars
marking opportunity's lost.

So, I try to remember
  that in between
the before and afters,
   and the beginings and endings,
are moments,
    and I shall
adorn them in jewels
and embrace them in peace
lest them not be missed
for soon,
   they too shall pass.
In some strange way, I was inspired to write this by All the Worlds a Stage - Shakespeare. Its a work in progress... might need better organization. Helpful feedback welcomed. Please!
I don't have a choice
But I still choose you
Given the truth
I'd still lie for you
I don't have anything to prove
But I still wanna prove myself
Even though you do have a choice
And you chose someone else
I simply can't deny the truth
I don't have a choice
But I still choose you
I stare at the ceiling
In a hotel room
In Duluth.

I wonder if
I will ever have a book
That finds its home
On shelves
At Barnes and Noble.

I wonder if
Former lovers
Will pick it up
Looking for
The poems I wrote

For them.
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