I read some songs
written down
      by sweet Emily
they seemed to short,
                            and some to long
and none were best to me

I read each line
………….bated breath,
seeking for a sign
to my surprise
      and some dismay
                all she did was whine

using form
     meter and rhyme
can only      go so far
when your subject matter
                                              is so much sadder
than……. a shooting star

songs of death
…………….some of despair
lament and sadness; ad nauseam
I think more life
could be found
in a Roman coliseum…

but who am I
to take this stand
when she,         a master,                                  waits………….
I do not fly,
am just a man
      attempting to impersonate
               the greats

so pay no mind
and take no heed
                         as your legacy is safe
even if
for me, personally
……
……
……
you make my eyeballs chafe –

quiet moonlight
slipped effortlessly
through the tent door
creeping at first
with a slow and steady motion
soon filling the space
with soft white light –
she lay sleeping
unaware of the attack
light covered her body
giving her skin a glowing hue
broken up
only by the tattered edge
of an old afghan –
slight concern
crossed her brow
shifting muscles
attempting to hide
a face plagued
sleep interrupted
rest destroyed
by the softest
and quietest
of assailants –
I lay in stillness
admiring the struggle
knowing the ease in which
I could zip up the flap
gently place the quilt
just over her eyes
but my own selfishness
prevents me
as I have never watched
her sleep disturbed
by quiet moonlight –

I'm so sorry guys, it seems this is never ending.

Here is where I've found new stolen poems

http://www.experienceproject.com/

The user is http://www.experienceproject.com/about/marklovescoffe
(you may need to create a free account to check his posts)

and he's posted

Flying Fingers ~ Pamela Rae under I Wonder Who Reads My Stories with no link
http://www.experienceproject.com/stories/Wonder-Who-Reads-My-Stories/4785328

Know the Beauty of a Woman ~ Cataleya with no link and not only that, in the comments when he was congratulated for a great write he said 'Thanks mate'
http://www.experienceproject.com/stories/Know-The-Beauty-Of-A-Woman/4693147

new link 1 Release ~ POETIC T with no link and his comment was it was from his soul
http://www.experienceproject.com/stories/Love-To-Write/4781292

new link 2 I Am A Writer ~ Madalyn Beck no link
http://www.experienceproject.com/stories/Am-A-Writer/4631574

new link 3 A Kiss Upon a Blank Page ~ Kalypso no link, comments claim it as his own
http://www.experienceproject.com/stories/Kiss-Upon-This-Blank-Page/4577880

new link 4 A Thousand Colours ~ Amrutha no link
http://www.experienceproject.com/stories/F-I-Could/4534117

As you can see, I could sit here all night and point out the stolen poems however, I will now just encourage everyone to visit this link
http://www.experienceproject.com/about/marklovescoffe
join the site (it's free) go to the left hand side menu and click on Stories and see if you recognize your work (you will know the instant you start reading the post!) Then give it to him with both barrels! Like I said in my notes, I'm almost certain they are a member here!

Please share!

**i have edited the links in here because he has changed his user name if you are looking for it, he dropped an e off the end... because we are sooo stupid....

watching flowing fields of grain dance in the wind
made ripe and green by the warm late spring sun
I imagined running, falling, and rolling in the fresh wheat
getting up again and spreading my arms wide open
allowing myself to experience the oneness of us all
I felt both completely refreshed and totally alive

It is a wonderful time in which to be alive
to stand and feel upon your face the wind
skinned browned slightly by the shinning sun
matching the color of the fields of wheat
basking in the glow of spaces, wide and open
recognizing a connection to the greater all

there is a peace when one recognizes their connection to the all
akin to nearly dying but instead remaining alive
ghosts float by on old gusts of wind
unseen except in shadows elongated by the setting sun
pausing only to admire the grains of wheat
individual, perfect, and ready to be open

I sat in the car considering all of this with the window open
the low buzz of insects became the soundtrack for all
and I felt my aura was glowing and alive
my soul was taken by a flash of cool wind
and I found myself travelling etheric to the sun
I was but a speck of sand or a single grain of wheat

my relationship changed that day, to wheat
in fact, to all plant life I became more open
understanding they too were part of the all
and that we both were living creatures, quite alive
both of us forced to deal with the wind
both of us totally dependent upon the sun

I felt on my face the warmth of the sun
and looked back upon the field of dancing wheat
for one second I was totally open
and was in an instant not only connected too, but I became the all
it was if everything around me became alive
and sang together the joys of the springtime wind

I felt so alive reconnecting with the universal all
and became as open as the summer wheat
nourished by the sun and sent dancing by the wind

distorted slop fed through a Marshall stack
attacking power cords with abhorrent abandon
random lyrics of pain based guilt
quilted the patchwork of ******* jocks
and played out arena rock
Kool-Aid dye job and slobbish hand-me-downs
earth tones, greens and browns
and drowning in the Northwest rain
insane solos played eating Rollo’s enslaved
to paved roads and dope fiend modes
Kurt’s hurt and flannel shirt
lifted the dirt off my heart
and set me apart from the sheep faced
high school mistakes
faking tans to look
totally Spring Break
holding onto hate and plating
fate next to kale chips and goose pate’
fame gorged but a porridge boy
knows no joy under the employ
of capitalism……
answer in hand the shot rang
and one million tear-eyed teens
sang
sad songs of pain and lament
replaying images
of a ****** prophet, heaven sent –