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  Jun 2016 CRAZY DAISY
Stephan

While mesmerized by the sunset
on a paint by number sky,
my brush followed
watercolor curves blending
into the outline of my heart

When a cool twilight breeze
swept me away on
soft pastel dreams
of you and me beneath a
full moon’s glow

Sharing a summer evening
filled with our deepest desires,
counting starlit kisses
under a velvet heaven’s
shimmering canvas

Till over my shoulder
a pink hyacinth morning smiled
and I surrendered to the dawn
of a love that is a new masterpiece,
each and everyday
The velvet green forest ferns
tickle her slender pale ankles
  Jun 2016 CRAZY DAISY
Jeff Stier
My father died
from a gun shot wound
to the head

self-inflicted

Don't get all weird about it.

Fathers die
and their passing
though certain
is rarely easy.

So what can I say of this man
so many years
after his emphatic end?

I can say what Whitman said
of Lincoln:
"O Captain, my Captain.
Rise up and hear the bells."

But he will not.

He was ever-present
wise and alert
a boxer in life
a fighter in every way.

And I grew up with the gloves on
quick
elusive
and thanks to him
successful in every ring.  

He died
******* on a lit tobacco stick

Emphysema was gonna
take him down
so he pulled his own trigger
saved his family that way
though that's a longer tale

Therefore
and whereas
this is a belated requiem
for a man I loved.
My Captain.
Dear and departed
these many years
may he rest in peace
as he never rested
in life.
  Jun 2016 CRAZY DAISY
SøułSurvivør
The straw to bring a horrid fate
The last straw to be drawn
I always get the short one
It seems all hope is gone

The straw that broke the camel's back
The burdens are so great
It seems my weary struggling
Has no way to abate

Like a drowning woman
I grasp at straws that float
It seems that there's no liferaft
Let alone a boat

But as I reach for the flimsy reed
Of Faith on which to stand
Just as I'm about to sink
I'm holding a strong hand

The straw I thought so weak & frail
As it first appeared
Was the Hand of Jesus Christ

My Savior & my LORD


SoulSurvivor
(C) 6/21/2016
I'm not going to let circumstances
Get the better of me.

I'm back on site.
We are all dying
Life is a symptom of death
Just because you're alive
Doesn't mean you're living
It's a morbid thought
I know
But it's somehow true
It's like the saying
"This too shall pass"
It's morbid
But true
Do you wake up in the morning
Just to go back o sleep at night?
Or do you wake up in the morning
Ready to cram as much live into your live
As you can before sleep forces you to rest?
Do you sit on the sidelines of life
Watching the other people live?
Or do run into the center
Experiencing life with them?
Are you the wallflower?
Or the mixer?
Are you just alive?
Or are you living?
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