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Better than a speech of a thousand vain words is
one thoughtful word which brings peace to the mind.
Better than a poem of a thousand vain verses is
one thoughtful line which brings peace to the mind.
Better than a hundred poems of vain stanzas is one
word of the dharma that brings peace to the mind.
Verses 100-102 from the Dhammapada as translated by Eknath Easwaran.
 May 2016 Natasha Ivory
NiTSUDD
Many have said it couldn't be done.
But I've done it, I've put two wieners in one bun.
Double the meat, but triple the fun.
Heartiest sensation found under the sun.
Look at you there smirking with your ***** mind.
Thinking I mean two *****'s in one behind.
Society is at fault so I look no further.
But I truly do mean a frankfrankfurter.
We drive each other crazy,
We drive each other mad,
But when we spend a night apart,
We both get really sad.
As hectic as it gets,
as crazy as it seems.
when all our stuff is smashed to bits and it really gets  extreme.
All I have to do,
to lift you from your mood,
is let you squeeze a pimple or two,
and bring you lots of food.
She became such an outcast,
An outsider;
That she started to detest everything common.
She found everything muddled up in a cliché:
A cliché she refused to follow,
So it was in that, perhaps, that she could gain her destined mystery.
She felt that she creates too many imperfections
Out of pure self existence,
But of course she continues to exist anyway.
His eyes they shone so bright, they held all the happiness I wanted
His eyes they turned so cold, they gave me all the sadness I deserved
Finding that balance between what feels good and what you need is harder than picking out an outfit in the morning.
Unless those outfits are all pretty slutty.
Then it's about the same,
the main difference being there's no real good solution.
Just a bad idea,
and a worse idea.
A low cut dress with no bra
Or a ruler width mini skirt over a thong.

I have always been a fan of extremes
so, I guess, between what I want
And what I need.

I'd wear the same outfit every day until it ripped,
got lost
or didn't fit me anymore.

And then I wouldn't wear anything.
Years, many parti-colour'd years,
  Some have crept on, and some have flown
Since first before me fell those tears
  I never could see fall alone.

Years, not so many, are to come,
  Years not so varied, when from you
One more will fall: when, carried home,
  I see it not, nor hear Adieu.
No matter the weather
or the nicks and dents
you’ll acquire without effort—
no matter how experiences—
the whole of them—
may short change you
into a thing
that you barely recognize—
don’t let that chin drop.

Everyone can see
the potential
in a heads up penny.
© Bitsy Sanders, May 2016
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