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 Sep 2017 Poetry First
Barker
That pain that you feel
Will be a source of
Power
That heartache that you have
Will be a source of
Strength
(c)Ibarker
 Sep 2017 Poetry First
Elioinai
today my feelings
are sick
I don't know why
because life is pretty good
I smile genuinely
brighter than before
My smile sits on a chin held higher

maybe they are just a mirror
Of my still struggling health
and today is just part of my journey
It has been a while since I've cried
 Sep 2017 Poetry First
wordvango
how better
to spend the day while
she sleeps peacefully
but listening to music

the Beatles
in particularly.
Catching a glimpse
occasionally

of her beautiful
peacefulness
wondering
does she dream of me

when I hear
Good Day Sunshine
I ache

to wake her up
 Sep 2017 Poetry First
Traveler
So many
My love
Have longed to hear
What I whisper
In your ear
To soothe your soul
And seethe your sweet
Releasing your heart
From misery
How many my love
  Yet still you bleed...
Traveler Tim
 Sep 2017 Poetry First
zebra
she was queen for a day
brought to you
by
the Red Cross
and
Freezone
to lift off
those painful foot corns
and lets not forget the good folks at
HEET
for those  aching back muscles
strong
yet doesn't burn
and comes with a handy dandy applicator

she could have anything she wanted
all she had to do
was ask for it on
TV
after becoming the winning contestant
for a life more tragic then all the others

the competition was stiff
who would break hearts the most
and get the biggest ovation
for all who came to see the suffering
and move the needle
on the
life ****-o-meter

which lady of endless sorrows
would be the gleeful queen
of white knuckle terrors
the winner
of the race to the bottom
circa 1958

and i was eleven years old

the winner was wrapped
by her very own glittery subjects
in a  plush royal queens cape
and placed upon her crown
a twinkling tiara
then enthroned
and bestowed a bouquet of flowers
from the magnificent
Carl's of Hollywood

she a mottled exhausted woman
withered by life's harrowing cruelties
hollowed by fear and heaping despair
flickered like staccato lighting
on black and white TV
for all of America to see

cause every
dinner cookin
vacuum cleanin
dish washin
bathroom scrubin
dirt sweepin
house wife goddess
of the vacuum cleaner and handy scrub
would flop herself on the couch
with a jin and tonic
put her feet up
hair in curlers
before dinner
and dishes
for the squabbling  brood
and her very own tyrannical
Ralph Cramden
huba huba hubby
king of her cracked castle
and
grab a pack of
Marlboro's.
Pall mall reds
Kent's
or
Chesterfield cigarettes
blow smoke
and watch
QUEEN FOR A DAY

today's
QUEEN FOR A DAY
Miss Clarice Williams
trembling almost to the point of tears
implored humbly for a gurney
so that her fifteen year old son
who was mentally slow and shot in the stomach
could be rolled outside on the porch
and feel the sunlight on his face
for the first time in years

they lavished her
with the Bomgardner Hydro-level cot
for the paralyzed
sure that it would do just the trick
plus
a miniature transistor ham radio
so you could even
hear what there sayin
all the way in Japan
plus
a Teltape tape recorder
and a brand new
automatic laundry machine and dryer
from the nice folks at Westinghouse

but thats not all

a star studded vacation
where the stars stay
at the deluxe knickerbocker hotel
where you can lounge at the pool
or your own royal suite
and have dinner
at the exotic
Polynesia Beach Combers
Wicki Wicki Room
all the way in the land
of the
hoochi coochi
 Sep 2017 Poetry First
Book Thief
You hold echoes of a shift
so plaintively
against the swell
of midnight summer rain—
within the roar of the planes
on cold faded glass
the stuffy air at the airport

There was no way around it
that I could see—
the world still kept its spinning

You lock your stare here
and how I wish
I was packed up too,

snug heartbeats in your leather briefcase.

© BT
 Sep 2017 Poetry First
Ma Cherie
dancing orbs upon the water
glistening in late summer sun
such beautiful but sad reminders
that now it's not the time for fun
as summer birds now bid farewell too
an days of long are nearly done

sigh
I look above to ancient skyways
to a gathering of fall and fate
coming quick in eerie dark blue
wishing cold had come in late
heavy rains have kept it wet here
oh crying green in heavy weight,

sing mystic breezes
call Natosi
ancient healing- God of sun
"everything is coming to you
yes you are a chosen one-
your heart of gold was given rarely
from thread of gold
that heart was spun"

thanks so much dear Apistotoke
an grandmother
my mother fate
thank you for the strongest heartbeat
fast like deer - I know not hate
one day to see you once in real form
behind the lovely heaven's gate

I fold my hands in ancient patience
for I know now
that I must wait

loving and enjoying
my life to the fullest
degree until I do
until my last an dying breath
has happened
until my soul must bid its sweet adieu
because everything in death is
then reborn again anew

an this I know
within that big beating heart
you say is made
of threaded gold.

Ma Cherie ©2017
For my ...idk dead ones miss them  ;/ love you all ❤ like I love the fall x-Ma
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