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 May 2017 Fay Slimm
may i always write words more naked than flesh,
more stronger than bone,
more sensitive than nerve.
may i always dip my finger into rivers of ink that will never run dry.
on the days i am not an ocean or a shipwreck,
may i always become an anchor.
may i understand that somedays words are a bridge,
and others are the fire that burns them.
that sometimes i write the words,
and that sometimes the words write me.
 May 2017 Fay Slimm
cheryl love
It is a sad situation, nobody could deny
could it be the hand painted tear
designed with one reason only - to terrify
to lay tracks, to spread a fear.

A clown is supposed to be funny - his profile
Bright, over-sized clothes to complete the plan
do not be fooled by the hand painted smile
portraying he is not that type of funny man.

Years ago it was a different story in the *** of white
you automatically smiled at his expression
held to the moment by the false floodlight
leading him down the path to depression.

His world, this craziness, leaves him alone
His false tears, his smile turning upside down
The expression now has turned to stone
and he lives in his own little ghost town.

This was not supposed to happen this quick
his life is taking on a tricky path ahead
Gone are the days of the laughter from slap-stick
leaving now misery from the big boots, bad tread.

He is growing old, failing to make an impression
he has ran out of smiles, empty of his own fuel
running out of money after each session
leaving him with debts and ridicule.

He does his best, seeking new times, new hope
but it is like everything else,the sign of the times
in a nut shell he can just about cope
the more you scream with laughter, the harder he climbs.
 May 2017 Fay Slimm
A bird's resting nest may be very small ,
But that is of no consequence at all !
Since the sky above its head is vast and
wide ,
Where it can spread its wings and fly, -
Across the vast expanse of the ethereal
blue sky !

Here on ground where we jostle for living
space ,
Man’s hunger and greed does not abate !
Alexander , Napoleon, and ****** had tried
conquer and shackle this earth,
But their conquests never could last!

I recall Leo Tolstoy's short story once more.
After having covered the furthest corners
of the land under his feet;
Galloping at top speed to make his conquest
complete ,
The rider totally exhausted falls on the ground,
Collapses and dies without a sound !
Only six feet of ground sufficed for his grave!
And so it has been for the bravest of our braves !

Now I recall the great Buddha under the banyan
tree ;
And the Messiah who entered Jerusalem mounted
on a donkey,
With shouts of ‘ Hosanna’ and with palms spread
across His feet !
Were true World Conquerors beyond defeat!
- Raj Nandy
   New Delhi

Notes: Leo Tolstoy's short story is titled -"How Much Land Does A Man Need".
 May 2017 Fay Slimm

When my footsteps on the corridor shall no longer sound,
When my computer keyboard shall cease its tapping sound.
When my much loved books on the shelves shall gather dust,
Remember me then if you must.

At night when you gaze up at the star filled sky.
There I shall dwell with twinkling eyes.
Freed from the terrestrial ******* below,
In that celestial realm where time ceases to flow!

But should you ponder and begin to meditate,
When your thoughts transcend this world of fate,
Then both heaven and earth will appear to dissolve into one;
When you may conquer time to step into my celestial world!
                   - by Raj Nandy of New Delhi.
 May 2017 Fay Slimm
phil roberts
I have eyes
But I don't see what I don't like
I have ears
But I won't hear what I don't want to hear
I have a memory
But only remember what's convenient
I have thoughts
But I keep them in safe cages
I have a mind
But I refuse to change it

And so, you see

Let rhetoric over-rule logic
Let fake news obscure truth
Let corruption replace propriety
Let bluster confound reason
Let nepotism overcome merit
Let democracy be obliterated
As long as I don't have to admit I was wrong

                                              By Phil Roberts
earth and wind
spew cloudy corruption.
I bite the breathing blossom
trying not to inspire
inky irritation.

I inhale anyway.

how, after all, can one

stop breathing?

(C) 5/13/2017
When a person inhales the ash from a volcano, they take in billions of tiny fragments of glass. If you don't suffocate from this you drown in your own blood.

#modern-times #godlessness


when you feel like
you're drowning

learn to be a fish!.

(C) 5/14/2017

Thanks for the honor!
This was a very pleasant surprise!  

Blessings to you ALL!

 Apr 2017 Fay Slimm
cracked an elbow making a tackle,
ruptured a kidney throwing a body block;
my less than illustrious football
career curtailed

so I chose to run:
an active verb--organs, bones,
are nouns, things to be damaged,
broken, frozen in almighty time

which slowed my sprint to a
jog, then my jog to a hurried hike
on my arid prairies and around
my wooded lane

where the young neighbors eye
me zipping by, deep in thought--who
is that old man pondering parts of speech?
don't let the children listen to him

for I know they have their own bones
yet to break, their own journey to make,
from fanciful fields of fame, to cruel knowledge
nothing remains the same--nouns decay

I'll keep walking wild as long as I can;
I recall making the last tackle, that final
fated block--those nouns now long gone, and no
adjectives can bring them back
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