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 Feb 2013 Refined in Flames
Chuck
Don't dread the day
Don't lament lost love
Valentines is not special!
Ask The Lord above

Love is 365 days a year
One day is not for love
I celebrate love all year
Shove the candy and flowers

If you are especially sad
Don't be upset on this day
So, your love life is bad
A card won't make it go away

It is just another day
If you have love, great
If you are a lonely one
You have 365 days to date!


Not a special day!!!!
“LLLAAATIES & GENTLEmen, this is your captain speaking.
There is a teency weency storm that is abrewing around us – ‘tis but a trifling, little thing - so I ask that you please remain calm.”

The curious passengers crowded to look out their windows.  
Ominous clouds brigaded the skies with enormously vibrant, sharpened zigzag knives, cutting through the air with thunderous taps against the windows.  
The travelers went into a frenzy as one-by-one, each fell victim to the terror of the roaring victory cries.
As a crazed, indecisive pendulum shouts order of formation – back forth, back forth – the travelers scurried into the aisle, bumping into one another like panicked ants dodging magnified beams of light.

Suddenly the chaos had ceased.

In the very front of the aisle stood two of the most spellbinding flight attendants that had ever been seen. They brought peace amongst the fury inside the cabin without uttering a word.  

“LLLLAATIES & GENTLEmen, this is your captain speaking.
I apologize for the brief disruption; however,
we have a show for you his evening.
A lovely show it is indeed.
Please hand over your tickets, for at the end of the show there will be a special prize awaiting the lucky winner who is reunited with this item of admission.
Oh, and might I suggest, everyone quick look over to your right; there is a canyon to be seen. It’s a large one, in fact.
Ain’t it GRAND???
So fasten those seatbelts, and enjoy your ride.
Ta-Ta.”

The passengers began to do as they were instructed.  Along with the refreshments of soda pops and pretzels bites, the angelic flight attendants placed out black velvet hats and black sticks with white tips, centering them on the empty laps of those preparing for the delightful evening event. When all of the hats had been properly placed, the attendants returned to their stations.

“LLLAATIES & GENTLEmen, this is your captain speaking.
Please take note of the hats that rest upon your laps.
Seek and you shall find that your tickets have been placed inside.
For if they are not, you will be deprived of your surprise.
Ta-Ta.”

The puzzled passengers obeyed, and perching their heads forth, they looked down into the blackened velvet hats… A wave of surprise quickly spread throughout the cabin, for every person was the winner!  

“LLLAATIES & GENTLEmen this is your captain speaking.  Please tap your hats.
After doing so your prize will appear inside.”  The excited passengers reached for their blackened sticks with the white tips and gently tapped the brims.

KAAAABOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!­

A thundering crash accompanied a blinding slash. For a brief moment I could no longer hear nor see anything.  I patiently waited to regain my senses.  I slowly started to hear an orchestrated, harmonic beat hitting the ceiling.  The white light that momentarily blinded me started to dissipate like an early morning fog.

What was the image that slowly appeared before my curious eyes?  A crimson ceiling it was.  It had everything a ******* painting deserved.  I was ecstatic.  I had completed a true masterpiece!  My personal contribution to our youth.  

As I sat in the last row admiring my work of art, a lonely tear trickled down my face.  My lovely acquaintance wiped away my tear and smiled at me.  “BRAVO! – BRAVO! It is simply exquisite!”

The heads were placed in the allotted location as requested.

I sat there with the deepest satisfaction twisting the upward curve of my mustache.  I felt the gentle touch of my delightful assistant slowly running her fingers through my hair.  The other softly placed her hand upon my shoulder and asked, “What next?”  I humbly replied, “We’re going to donate them to the toy store.  There they will be placed in wonderfully colored boxes that will play lovely music when the handles are cranked in a circular motion until the heads pop out!”

The flight attendant looked at me with great wonder, “Captain, you’re truly a remarkable man.”
Thank you for reading.  Ta- Ta!
Be careful dear,
I am just a match looking for kindling.
Hopefully you don't mind getting burned.
 Feb 2013 Refined in Flames
Wendy
a blank slate
thats what i was

until you painted me with you autumn greens, and dark ocean blues
until you traced my body with the color red, and left me blushing pink
until together we traveled and found new colors in the new worlds

i was a beautiful sunset over the indian ocean
i was a the laughter of a small child
i was the wildflower growing tall and strong in the uninterrupted wilderness

i was it all

that is until you decided to start over on a blank slate
A boy.
A boy,
Who's love I need to feel.
I'm not his girl
He's the love I long to steal.
His voice is the sweetest,
My ears have ever heard.
For him,
I'd do anything,
Say anything
I'd give him the world.

Even with my best intent
I let him slip,
Melting to sloppy wet drips
And flowing straight,
Through my fingertips.
Even when I tried to grab hold,
I grabbed, I jabbed, and pricked,
Still away he had surely slipped.

Oceans apart
However, close we are.
There's still a spark,
It magnifies every emotion
Heightens every notion
And through all the dark,
There is still a shrill
A deep, deep, shrill,
The life-giving *****,
Beats out of turn,
Even still.

I look into those deep dark vessels,
The Windows to your soul.
They search my flesh
They cry out,
Why?
Our future clear as sunniest of skies.
Though it's not a happy ending,
What a surprise.

Reality the way it always does
Creeps close.
It's wrong we know very well
in the heat of the moment, passion swells
We're both thinking stop,
But onward we march
Into this terribly beautiful yet tragic arch,
Of love and lust that cuts so deep.
Our brains know better, but our hearts,
They are weak.

Then it hits.
In that instant a vivid dream
Comes to me lucid and not quite serene.
Your lips dancing in time
With mine closely behind

Stop

You look at me and remember her.
I'm sorry I say "I loved you first"
"Love me" I scream
Without a sound.
The words pouring out silently
My wide and weary eyes
Say it all as they cry.
Kiss me again
To send me away so abruptly.
Would surely begin,
**My end.
SOMETIMES a child's voice crying on the street
Comes winging like an arrow through the wind
To pierce my breast with you, my baby, and
My pen is weak, and all my thinking dreams
Are mist of yearning for the touch of you.
you spoke in mocking whispers laughed in taunting sniggers
you thought i never heard your snide remarks i heard them i
heard them all and i realised with thrills of horror that i who
relentlessly strived to go unnoticed was the hottest topic of
gossip you scrutinised me and every ****** action of mine
you broke me down
and crushed my spirit and trampled all over it and when you
were bored my pain became your amusement
you took my silence to be a mysterious ailment you made
assumptions you drew conclusions based on rumours you thought
you knew all about me you don't know anything about me don't
you dare assume you know me or what goes on within me or why
i am the way that i am.
The format was inspired by that of 'A breathless counsel' by Meena Kandasamy - http://meenakandasamy.wordpress.com/2008/06/01/a-breathless-counsel/

As two horrible years come to an end, it's time for catharsis, so here's me 'throwing up'.
 Feb 2013 Refined in Flames
Chuck
I like apples
I like oranges

Apples are sweet with a crunch
Even when they are ****
The rewards are great
They are filled with nutrition
The skin is even good for the teeth
But every once in awhile
One is spoiled or rotten
Or worse, filled with creepy crawlers
Yet the refreshing burst
Of beneficial flavor is hard to refuse

I love oranges, the color alone
Sunshine in my hand
Puts a smile on my face
Before I even take a bite
When they are sweet
Nothing cold be better
They make my life healthy and happy
However, they, occasionally, can be bitter
Or spoiled or not glow so bright
Yet even at their most sour times
Or when they are not the freshest
I love them more than life itself

So it's obvious to me
Given the choice between the two
It is no contest
My love for oranges is rare

Yet I've been granted a special opportunity
I have been offered a bushel of apples
Though they are tasty
I don't want to only eat them

Apples or oranges?
I can eat the apples and still enjoy
The flavor burst of the oranges
The apples may even help me to
Enjoy the oranges even more
And cherish the time I have to
Nourish my bobby and mind
With their sweet nectar

I like apples
I love oranges
I can enjoy both
Without letting any spoil
With the right proportions

I just won't try to
Eat cake too!
Oranges are my family, and apples is the opportunity to coach track and field this spring. I wanted to weigh it out in a poem. I refuse to neglect my family ad many coaches do. If I have less time with my family, I'll just make it better quality an less time sitting here writing poetry, until they go to bed. Don't worry.
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