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"Say, whus tha good wurd, Mista Mornin Bird?"
"Ahh, ya know just chillin here singin these here tunes waitin fah Mista Worm."
"Ahh dat Mista Worm - he alwayz be runnin late."
"True dat!”
”Yo! peep this...
Last night he took his ol girl out on a date."
''A date? Really? Mistah Worm?”
"Yup.
But it getz betta tho.
It wuz dare anniversary. Ol fool went to tha chapel an got married."
"MARRIED!!??"
"mmhmm."
"Where dey get married?"
"At dare special spot in tha apple orchard.
Mistah worm told me he and hiz girl are movin to the Big Apple.”
“Big Apple? Fah what?”
“He gunna work fah tha East New York Farms.  I guess hiz uncle Jim
got him in.”
“…Mista Worm…”

"Say, howz Mista Skunk doin?  He evah get clean?"
"I dont see much of him theez dayz.  Heard heez down on his luck. Evah since tha paper mill closed he aint been tha same.  Heez so stressed out he got mo white hairz than a polar bear.”
“Dammmnnn!!!”
”Sumone told me that heez a nasty lil ol drunk wit a funky attitude and a quick tempa!
No wunda hiz wife leftem.
My understandin iz he still outta work - rummigin through peoples junk - collectin cans, tryin to make a buck.
Itz a **** shame, aint it?"
"Uh huh."

"Howz Mista Rabbit?"
"Miiiista Rabbit! Oohh dat Mista Rabbit he dunn got himself a nasty habbit."
"Whys dat?"
"He be stealin outta Mizz Jonsens garden again.
Otha day Mizz Jonsen shooed him away chasin him down tha block wit a pair of ol rusty scissors in her hand."
"Scissors!!??"
"Yup. She told him next time he wont be so lucky wit out hiz foot."
"WHUT!!??  Whus dat suppose da mean?"
"I dunno.”
"Dat Mizz Jonsen gone crazy!!
She dunn lost her mind in her ol age.
She crazier than a ******* rat!
Man, when Mista Rabbit gunna learn?”
"I guess when he haz no foot."

"Say, you talk to Mista Squirrel at all?"
“Itz been sum time.”
“How wuz he doin?”
"Man, you know Mistah Squirrel.  He wuz all ova da place, or at least he wuz.  He alwayz be jumpin from one tree to tha next, alllllwayz tryin to get a nut or two.  Last I heard he got deported and now lives in anotha county.”
“Why iz dat?”
“He dunn got locked up fah breakin in a few too many attics. They finally caught him....Stoopid fool."
''****…”

"Nuff about tha neighbahood.  How you been?  Havent seen you inna while."
"Im still doin my thang, ya know.
Roamin from town ta town, chasin down tail."
"Yous still chillin in dem alleys too?"
"Fa sho!"
"Man, aint a **** thang changed wit chu.
Yous alwayz been a cool cat...”
Closely I observe myself from afar.
My world transforms into a perplexed dream.
Earth-toned hues shine brighter than any star.
Perception composes a wary theme.
Contorted tree limbs mock every movement.
Eyes become filled with cotton candy clouds.
Conversations are no longer fluent.
Alone I walk in a burial shroud.
I pinch my arm to make sure I’m not dead.
Numb is the only sensation I feel.
Broken shards of faith bear a tint of red.
The face in the mirror doesn’t look real.
Existence slowly crumbles into sand.
I’m a stranger who roams this foreign land.
This is my first Sonnet. I thought I'd pay homage to a condition I've had for many many years. This condition has been defined as "The Alice in Wonderland disease."  It started on New Year's Eve 1996 when I smoked *** that was laced with something. The resulting effects still plague me from time to time; however I use it to my advantage now. Instead of running from it, I write about it. I really enjoyed the challege of writing a Sonnet, but ******* are my fingers tired from tapping.
 Apr 2013 J Penpla
Patricia Drake
Sly
like a serpent silently
slipping
under the skin
slithering
up though the spinal cord
to secretly settle
inside your skull
where it will sit
and sedate
your senses
with sweet seductive
songs of
sleep
 Apr 2013 J Penpla
Mike Hauser
It all about has become meaningless

This affair between paper and pen

There's a new emptiness it's giving me

Where I am all but spent

Does it truly change the attitude

Or calm the savage beast

At one time I had hoped

It would fill that darkened need

That need if any has run it's course

As all things must in time

What I thought I found was freedom

But the freedom wasn't mine

It has stolen all it could

When I held out my hand to dance

Dined on my heart and emotions

I never stood a chance

I stand here naked in my innocence

Having given it all to poetry

Hanging now with outstretched arms

On it's cross is where I bleed
 Apr 2013 J Penpla
K Mae
Alone under starlit sky
mulling boons of miseries'
convoluted manipulations
when suddenly she runs by
in gladness leaping high


I her secret laughing witness:
*Clearly joy is more direct
if happy is desired effect
 Apr 2013 J Penpla
K Mae
tired steps
 Apr 2013 J Penpla
K Mae
She spoke to me the hardened words
that lie so deep in hiding
I should be more
Not done enough
and soon I shall be leaving
my dreams to make a better world
with tired steps I'm grieving
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