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 Apr 2013
chrissy who
She struts through her town
Chin up
Hair down.
Trying to hide
Her skinned knees.
She doesn’t want the world to see
The only evidence she bears
Of when she finally fell.
Tripped, stumbled, whatever you want to call it.
She could hold herself up no more.
Gravity overcame her
Truth overcame her
Life overcame her.
Her back bent
Her knees buckled
She tried to scream
But no sound came out.
Her one moment of weakness
Left her with scars
Unseen
And ****** knees.
How do you come back from a fall like that?
She built herself up for years
Like a mountain ever growing,
A trophy never rusting.
She shined her shoes,
She brushed her hair
She straightened her blouse
Every day
Trying with all her might
To maintain her image
Of perfection.
She should’ve realized sooner
No one is perfect.
Not a one of us
Not Ghandi
Not Martin Luther King
Not Eleanor Roosevelt
Not even Dr. Suess.
They weren’t perfect
So why was she?
Who is she, that gets to achieve the dream
That the majority of people are treading water just to get a glance of?
A better question would be
Why did she get to do such a good job
Of hiding her imperfection.
She walked everywhere with a bottle inside
Holding everything in
Nice and tucked away
Like a child at bedtime
Hidden
Safe and snug
Where no one could see it.
She pulled it out only in the wee hours of the morning
While sitting by herself
At the top of her mountain
Where she sat
And wept
Silently.
When the rays of dawn would peep over the distant horizon,
She would wrap the vial up
And swallow it again
Down into the depths of her soul
To remain hidden
To keep her secrets safe
To keep herself upright and a-okay in everyone else’s sight.
This went on
And on
And on.
Until one night
When the moon shone bright
And the stars and constellations shone around her head.
She went to examine the newly expanded contents of her secret container
When she realized the stars weren’t shining solely on her soft
Perfectly parted hair.
Someone else was there with her
But it was too late to put the ampoule away
It was already out, see
And in plain sight.
She fumbled,
Caught off guard, she dropped her flask.
She jumped to catch it but it was already rolling
She chased it.
Down the mountain they went
A bottle
And a girl
Moving in tandem
One no faster then the other.
She tried to slow herself down as they approached the base
But it was too late
The momentum was too great
She tumbled headfirst
Her knees hit the ground
At this speed
Grass feels like concrete.
Green stains on her elbows,
Blood on her knees.
Water marks down her cheeks.
The higher you build yourself up
The longer you have to fall
As she discovered the night the constellations revealed her façade to another.
No one’s perfect
No matter what they seem
You never know
Who, at nightfall, screams.
This young girl learned her lesson
It’s better not to hide
And now she struts around
Showing skinned knees
With pride.
 Apr 2013
Roger Turner - Poet
A is for anthill which I have in my drive
B is for buzzing from a hidden bee hive
C is for cockroach that run all round the house
D is for droppings, that have been left by a mouse
E is for egg sack that hangs in my trees
F is for flying which the bugs do with ease
G is is for gophers which inhabit my yard
H is for hillocks with which my yard is marred
I is for insects which are all I can see
J is for june bugs, they're as big as my knee
K is for killing which I try to do
L is for lugworms that are shaped like a *****
M is for Mickey and his mousey like friends
N is for never...this infestation won't end
O is for Oscar, my scared orange cat
P is for well...***...and he's good at that
Q is for quinine which I leave out to treat
R is for rodents, which I want Oscar to eat
S is for slugs which are killing my grass
T is for totalled, just give me a match and some gas
U is for underwriter who has insured my place
V is for vermin, that now own all my space
W is for water with which I started a flood
X is for poison, which will thin out their blood
Y is for Yertle, a turtle by suess
Z is me sleeping...to bugs and vermin on the loose
 Apr 2013
KM Jones
I took tea with Dr. Suess
He was really quite polite
He tipped his hat, tall and round
And always spoke in rhyme.

He told me stories of Sam I Am
Between bites of pasteries
I told him how I loved to write
And that he inspired me.

His cheeks turned a cherry red
As he wiped at his mustache
I laughed at his quick ancedote
About Cat In The Hat.

All too soon, the clock struck noon
He said he had to leave
He paid the tab, then tipped his hat
And said "goodday" to me.
July 15, 2008
 Apr 2013
Sherry Clark
Ever had a rhythm stuck in your mind?
Something like Suess with his Cat and his rhymes?
At this moment I do.

I don't want colored meat
or mean nasty guys,
I don't fit on a speck or live in a pocket.
I am just me and I love it.

This rhythm may not make sense.
But neither does hopping on Dads or tying horns to your pets.
This is random and coarse with some smooth fitted in.
Childhood memories coming back and no longer dim.
We long for the days where nonsense was fact
Try as we may we can't get those times back.
So I'll enjoy my socks and box and fox
And i promise to look out for that dreadful lorax!

**I'll skip down the lane where memories meet.
I'll share with my children the wonders of this world,
Where imagination and reality can become swirled.
 Apr 2013
Will Justus
Sometimes I will talk like Dr. Suess
Using fuzzlewumps and scalashamoosh.
Made up words are lots of fun to say
Like bimbozzled, fimtosseled, and swinsway!
But some people give me funny looks
When I compliment their parpingsonsooks
Madame, you misunderstand my thoughts!
I mean that I like your polkadot socks.

— The End —