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 Aug 2014 Kelly K
JWolfeB
Lynn
 Aug 2014 Kelly K
JWolfeB
Lets name her Lynn for short.

A girl with gorgeous hair. A place for wind to look beautiful. Without this girl wind is something invisible. She gives form to the breeze. The same breeze that carries her voice. One voice told so many I love yous and a few secrets I can’t speak of.

She had a heart of a locomotive. Traveling the world infectiously spreading joy into the ears open enough to hear her step upon the doorstep. Steaming up and spreading precious moments spoken from non other than the movement of her frame. A train off track and causing chaotic freedom to something that can’t be held down.

This girl I am speaking of has eyes of the future. When used they can’t tell you of the broken glass of the past but of the future possibilities she will be giving to you. The moments of forever, happiness, and pure elation. Those same eyes are the ones with a history. I want to be her historian. I want to study every date of her life to know every moment of triumph and every fall. I want to study her bones to see the indents made from the people who have experienced her grace. I will tell you everything about her. Writing a book about the times she stole my words. There will be books of blank pages if that were true.

Lynn has a way to put a definition to personal warming. Warming hearts and melting pasts. Giving light to those who are lost. Bring in the cold, lost, and fragile to place them somewhere of meaning. A way of true refinement. I can now see from the times were once dark. This girl has an infinity for endlessness. I have never seen something so completely, infinite.

Everyday I live with this girl in my chest. She has built a home there. One of structure. Fortified and permanent. And each day this heart grows with the constant fulfillment it finds from its new owner. A new forever has been written on my spine. This forever will be one spent with you through each and every moment found in my brain. A moment of now and forever more. The last moment before you fall asleep. That moment when you have your best thought of the day but your body is too tired to write it down. I want to live in your thoughts. Because from here you are living in my heart.
He stares all day out into space,
looking for she whom does not show.
A frightened look adorns his face,
Is something missing, he should know?

He is not sure, why or who
these strangers are who do converse.
He doesn't know quite what to do,
why is he here? Why have a nurse?

They look at him with loving eyes.
Smiling glances flow across.
What do they seek and what's more, Why?
He does not know, he's at a loss.

These souls have so much love to share,
why are they pointing it his way?
He only wants his Mother around
and she should be here any day.

He feels sorry for such woes.
So lets them smile and talk away.
Secretly he does wish they would go,
he wants to go outside and play.

They say to him “Well bye then Dad.”
It sends such shudders down his spine.
He thinks that they must all be mad.
Call me Dad, I'm only nine.

They wave their hands as off they go
and he waves back, too be polite.
Though memories will never show
and he will not live through the night.

At his grave side his family mourn,
so sorry that he went this way.
It's hard forgeting children born,
and showing them no love display.

But as they pray they should look above
and as the sun lights, sullen day.
They might see looking down with love
the personage for whom they pray.

Disease all gone, with clear mind,
the one that earlier thought them mad.
With caring heart and thoughts so kind,
the spirit of there “Dear Old Dad”.
The loss of a parent is bad but multiplied immensely when the parent has no knowledge who you are.
2012
Words will be written.
Thoughts will be told,
Information put forward.
Dreams bought and sold.

Tales of Inspiration.
Gutter-trash news.
Chaotic Information.
Informants ruse.

Politicians false pledge
Juggling board
Politics on the edge.
Should they fall on their sword?

Do they never blunder?
This Pie-crust elite
Information to wonder
While they're dragging their feet.

Our earth, our nation
With over fished ocean.
De-forestation.
No sun without lotion.

Extinction of the wild
The draining of fuel
No food for a child
The greed of the cruel.

This world where we live,
Earthquake and Tsunami
Have we nothing to give,
terrorised from the sea.

Maybe acid filled rain
don't forget Global-Warming
Is this world that we drain
perhaps giving a Warning.
3rd August 2011 Posted Aug 25th 2014 © Copyright Christopher K Bayliss 2014.
 Aug 2014 Kelly K
Nathan Squiers
Fade to scene--pallet: blue and green--wide shot; mood: serene.
Establish view; a stock or few; pan right to view a distant two.
A hazy rim; we cut to *HIM
--so *clean and prim--just as we hear the hymn...
A tear rolls down his chin. The brightness dims; music shifts to grim.

Cue the screams; cut the scene.
We're back in the now and the mood is mean.

HE'S back in a view--pallet: black and blue--the shot askew.
The mood's muted; sounds of shooting. Cue dialog:
"Look what you did..."
Camera jerks; extreme closeup: a smirk; let the ANTAGONIST work.
The wire crew's here. HERO sheds a tear. Signal stuntman on the tier.

Orchestra on my mark...
Deliver line then cut to dark.

Light's back to reality. The view won't change, you see.
There's no crew or doubles. Just a wide sea of troubles.
No second shots; no calling "CUT"; it's all open-shut.
It's not like a filmmaker's lens; it's not just pretend.

Let me script this out what you're all about:
An overconfident lout, but backlit with doubt.
All part of a cast, direct you like I did the last.
I see that you're furious, but you're hardly fast.
Now I'll produce the fear as the shoot draws near--
I've got the schedule set; we're not finished here!--
You're calling "cut," but I'm just cutting you more,
And then I'll edit you out on the cutting room floor.

I appreciate that you feel you've come so far,
But never forget this is MY movie, and I'm the STAR!
Just a lovely little piece using filmmaking jargen as a metaphor of putting the hurt on somebody (prior to becoming an author I was studying to be a scriptwriter & director ~ though recent events are steering me back into scriptwriting once again).

Content and details are purely fictional.
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