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 Jun 2016
Misty Meadows
Honestly,
How could
Honesty
Ever possibly be the best
Policy
When complications
In democracies
Simply prove we disregard
Philosophies.

To disregard all
Philosophies
Is just another form of our
Self-oppression.
****** tongues spill
Atrocities,
And we disguise it as some sort of
Self-expression.

Are we self-expressed
Or are we fraudulent?
I heard that honesty is
All we crave and yearn.

But that's not the case
Because the truth can hurt.
Just watch honesty hit its
Path and burn.

And with the cash we earn
And clean air we kiss,
You would think we all
Are kinda feeling blessed.

We have reckless flesh
And lack small regrets
Yet expect nothing less
Than restful deaths.

And with restful deaths,
We have veins of steel
That are only melted by
The coldest flames.

And like the bread of life,
We do not share a slice,
Even though the end ensures
We give back grains.

So I suppose we're selfish,
In a sense sometimes.
Say, simply
Sincerely
Sinister.

We're here on earth
As just visitors, all
Sealing life with
Cheap signatures.
 Jun 2016
Cynthia Jean
yes , it's snowing

a glorious spring snow

a gale
of flower petals

from my neighbor's tree......

cj 2016
beautiful gifts....beautiful surprises
 Jun 2016
Cynthia Jean
"There can be no peace with the forces of evil. Peace comes only through the establishment of the supremacy of the forces of good." -President Coolidge, Memorial Day, 1923
 Jun 2016
Cynthia Jean
"In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.


Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields."

John McCrae
During World War I, a Canadian Expeditionary gunner and medical officer, John McCrae, fought in the Second Battle of Ypres near Flanders, Belgium.

Describing the battle as a "nightmare," as the enemy made one of the first chlorine gas attacks, John McCrae wrote:

"For seventeen days and seventeen nights none of us have had our clothes off, nor our boots even, except occasionally. In all that time while I was awake, gunfire and rifle fire never ceased for sixty seconds...

And behind it all was the constant background of the sights of the dead, the wounded, the maimed, and a terrible anxiety lest the line should give way."


Finding one of his friends killed, John McCrae helped bury him along with the other dead in a field.

Noticing the field covered with poppy flowers, he composed the famous Memorial Day poem, "In Flanders Fields":
 Jun 2016
Cynthia Jean
It is the Soldier, not the minister
Who has given us freedom of religion.

It is the Soldier, not the reporter
Who has given us freedom of the press.

It is the Soldier, not the poet
Who has given us freedom of speech.

It is the Soldier, not the campus organizer
Who has given us freedom to protest.

It is the Soldier, not the lawyer
Who has given us the right to a fair trial.

It is the Soldier, not the politician
Who has given us the right to vote.

It is the Soldier who salutes the flag,
Who serves beneath the flag,
And whose coffin is draped by the flag,
Who allows the protester to burn the flag.

Charles Michael Province, U.S. Army, wrote the poem
remember
 Jun 2016
Cynthia Jean
a smile
for a memory
such a small price
to pay..

cj 2016
 Jun 2016
Cynthia Jean
more gifts
         everyday
each one
         new again...

cp  2016
trying to look up....and to write my way out of a funk
 Jun 2016
Cynthia Jean
sometimes
the words I write
make me
cry

cj 2016
sometimes the only thing to do is to pray and to write
 Jun 2016
Eudora
I believe it's time I straightened up
Knocked the dust from off my mind
Make some room for different thoughts
Find which ones I need to wipe

Rancorous experiences and sombre days
Or unending expectations of the people around me
Do my utmost to please hearts in different ways
Throbbing particles in my head, no one could see


As I feel my way along the fray
The razors edge that cuts too deep
Only in my minds eye can I blink away
All those thoughts that pressure me

Yes it is indeed time..
To deterge the nagging wounds in my mind
And cease the harsh ringing when they chime
Breathe them all out while I let my myself unwind



Mike Hauser
**Eudora
It was a such pleasure writing this with the lovely, Mike Hauser. Thank you Mike, for inviting me to do this with you, again. :))
 Jun 2016
Keith Wilson
A  beautiful  laburnum  tree
as  just  come  into  flower
outside  my  window.
Drooping  clusters  of
yellow  flowers.
Hanging  down  like  jewels
on  a  chain.
Truly  beautiful.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK.  2016.
 Jun 2016
Mysterious Aries
The flipside of the day

Brings a lot of melodies

Of painful journals

At most the moon and stars are dead

For those eyes that lament for the beloved

The breezy sound of the wind

Doesn't bring a beautiful song of serenity

Instead a tune of sinister

Darker than the night

Because the lullabies of every nocturnal

An echoing elegies

For those who were left behind

Sightseeing imaginary images

Whispering song for them

Every night

Still dying inside



5-25-2016

Mysterious_aries
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