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A weekend ends in mystic
While the sun rising slowly
This day I know
A name that only begins
With a week of discovery
Known as the first
It's called Monday
Where refreshness starts all over again
Now I must follow
This monday with anew.
I stand alone
Performing as one
Imprisonment
With amazement in sight
A creature far beyond
My gentle touch
Bestowing with thoughts
I recur
Reins of attraction towards
A botanical darling
In the flesh
Hearts of love sowing
Born from the roots
Arouse a daisy
A custom to static
I do not know
Shall we manipulate tendencies to others?
Another chapter begins tomorrow
As it revolves
Her mist
To a standstill
For I am worthless and self-pity
To a plate of provisions
I cannot change
For who I am?
 Oct 2010 Pixieguts
George Eliot
The world is great!
The birds fly from me;
The stars are golden fruit
Upon a tree
All out of reach
My little sister went and I am lonely.

The world is great!
I tried to mount the hill
Above the pines
Where the light lies so still,
But it rose higher.
Little Lisa went and I am lonely.

The world is great!
The wind comes rushing by.
I wonder where it comes from.
Sea-birds cry
And hurt my heart.
My little sister went and I am lonely.

The world is great!
The people laugh and talk,
And make loud holiday.
How fast they walk!
I'm lame, they push me.
Little Lisa went and I am lonely.
Yawning in the theatre
Sleepy Helen dozed,
Unimpressed by the performance
Her eyes tightly closed.

Richard of Gloucester,
Eyes all red and sore,
Has to be prompted his lines
As Helen begins to snore.

The man next to Helen nudges her
His face all puffed up and red,
Helen oblivious to his nudging,
Thinks she’s tucked up in bed

Torch in hand the usherette comes
And shines it in Helen’s face
But she is deep in her slumbers
And the manager mutters disgrace.

The attention of the audience shifts
From the stage to the fourth row down
And even the actors fall silent
As Helen begins to frown

She rises from her seat like a Queen
And makes for the steps to the stage
And as she sets foot on the boards
Gloucester flies off in a rage.

She turns to face the audience,
Their interest in the stage renewed
And still deep in her slumbers
Mutters, ‘We are not amused!’

The S M rants and raves
Well for him that’s nothing new
And Gloucester comes back swearing,
The air now turning quite blue.

But Helen is no longer with them
She’s lost all interest you see,
In her dreams she’s back at the palace
With Prince Albert and afternoon tea
"We are not amaused"
A saying that Queen Victoria of England has been credited with uttering.
I guess when you finally lay it all out

Like pairs or spades or hearts

The deck looks the same as it did

Before you removed a few cards.



I guess when you finally throw out the words

Like an old thought scribbled down on paper

The words never reach anyone else’s eyes

So they never really existed.



I guess when you finally let it all go

Like the balloon you accidentally released

It was never a part of your life long enough

To leave that empty space in your chest.



I guess when I finally let you go

I can breathe in the world again

Even though no one will ever notice

Since you were never mine at all.
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