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 Jul 2010 Angie
Shayla Wimbush
-1-
 Jul 2010 Angie
Shayla Wimbush
-1-
You give me butterflies
And this scares me
But I like it
Come be near me

Can I tell you
Whats within me
This confusion
It's amazing

I trust you
But I'm scared
Because I know
When there is no more
When you leave me
When I can't see you
Where will I be
                              Lost eternally

You are my best friend
You are my man
All I need is
For you to hold my hand
Even if it's only once
I need to feel your touch
'Cuz your mind is beautiful
Your voice is appealing
And here I stand
Waiting to take your hand

So your hands are big?
Ok, I feel safe
Just don't let me go
Because I'll never know
What to do with myself

And so if you go
You can blindfold me
Or just take away my sight
I know I will adjust
But only so much
I know I'll understand
The beauty around me
But I'll never be able to appreciate
Everything that surrounds me

But enough of you leaving me
The thought is too depressing
And let me tell you
I'm so grateful to meet you
That I think of you
Before I go to bed
That to the Lord
I humbly bow my head
That I thank Him
For putting you in my life
And I thank you
For giving me butterflies
 Jul 2010 Angie
Eurasia
Im living in a world where bad is some how good,
A world that has me confuse and misunderstood.
Im living in a world where a joke shouldn't be played,
but the serious is taking for granted as it don't belong today.
America can be a spy for which it already is,
to sit back and transform to something unappreciative.
Day by day I live a life to no ones expense,
but find out I need to just to make sense.
So to all those people out there who are just walkin through a twirl,
thats the life for living in a world.
 Jul 2010 Angie
D Conors
Far, far away, in a kingdom long ago,
There lived a ***** King who had a **** made out of gold.
He ****** his royal Queen, he ****** his royal Knights,
He shoved it in the Chambermaids, and up his Horse--did twice!

From the Page-boys down, to the Peasants in the fields,
He even ****** the Flowers whilst reaching for a feel,
-Of his farting ****, to scratch up and down,
'Then he headed through the forest to **** the whole ****** Town!

If you seem to wonder why this King continually ****** and Farted,
Perhaps this poem will teach you a lesson on how Government was started!
D. Conors
c. 1995
Wine comes in at the mouth
And love comes in at the eye;
That's all we shall know for truth
Before we grow old and die.
I lift the glass to my mouth,
I look at you, and I sigh.
 Jul 2010 Angie
Robert Zanfad
I have a strange dream
seen in oddest of nights -
the one where I'm bouncing
on an old grist stone
that is spinning awfully fast.
with every push of hands to get free,
gravity pulls me back down
and I'm erasing.
first fingers and toes -
we could live without those -
but then it's elbows and knees

I eventually give up all hope of escape
and actually enjoy the ride for a bit
but opening mouth to say "ahhhh,"
I'm flung loose by centrifugal force,
and in epiphany, realize that
teeth had been griping the axle.
I could have been freed so much sooner
if only I'd let go first.
of course, by then not much was left
a mere twenty five pounds of finely marbled roast,
head still attached, but quite useless

frankincense smoldered in censers
when priests dressed in lacy
white wedding gowns
patted me down with fresh linen and silk.
the head they hacked off and discarded,
the gray not much used
but useless as transplant
and salesman refused it on trade-in.
they anointed dead flesh
in scents of rare oils
and spices imported from India,
solemnly transporting the meat to a pit
built just in front of the altar.

Young boys wearing dresses
took turns at the spit
making mean faces,
but only when no one was looking,
their tobacco juice joining
my fat drips spattered on coals.
finally I was done cooking,
three hours of basting,
and arranged with bruised fruit
on a huge silver platter with handles
that my wife rented just for the occasion.
steam shimmered over din
of all my friends, who were seated,
and family, too, dressed for a luau
in bright floral prints and grass skirts.
After a short blessing, they dug in.

When feeding was done,
dripping chins wiped from curtains
hung loose from the ceiling,
all seated agreed
the meal had been tasty,
though meat a bit gristly and greasy,
especially slices cut close to the edges.
a fat policeman called them to order
and somehow I read from a speech
by chance I had prepared in advance,
like a letter or even a poem,
in which I contritely confessed
I'd always wished to have been more,
but meal finished, and dishes clearing
at least now I'd always be with them.
The woman poured herself another glass of wine,
Like another night alone.
The house was empty,
And the humming of the dishwasher bounced off the walls.
She sat by the window and pulled the black heels off her feet.
This was beginning to get old.
People outside paced in pairs.
Her house was dark.
The only light came from the kitchen,
glowing out to the adjacent ro0m.
She sipped at her wine, and rested the glass on her knee.
With an exasperated sigh,
She threw the wine glass against the opposite wall.
The glass flew, sparkling in the dim light
And merlot ran down the white wall.
She dusted off her hands, and undressed silently.
In the bathroom, she started water for a shower.
In silence, once again, she stood under the rush of water.
An hour's time went by, and the water was shut off.
Without bothering to dry herself, she stepped out,
And fell into bed.
 Jul 2010 Angie
D Conors
i want you if
even for the
shortest moment
of time
even if knowing
our hellos
will also be
goodbye.

i want
you

to hold me.
D. Conors
06 july 2010
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