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Keith J Collard Oct 2012
Since thy first lady declare,
that we wageth war,,
and against obesity dare,
I will hunt the fat kid,
tho he affrights me,
the first lady did knight me,
and I succeeded in the grail,
and blood marked that trail,
but popcorn spilled from his pale,
giving my hounds the scent,
downhill like a wounded lazy dear he went,
The Behemoth,
who esteemeth my sword as straw,
to sip chocolate milk,
with burps defying Queen's law.
DAGGER against my spear of poplar
is ice-cream sandwich in hand of globular,
AND THAT SANDWICH DAGGER SHALL NOT REACH FAR
BEFORE MY SPEAR UNLEASHES HIS DYING ****.
but I must admit,
I fear the headlock in his sweaty pits,
I must keep a spears distance,
away from his buttery mits,
he has vanguished many knights into that hellish abyss,

My first lady biddeth,
I will not delay, I will not tarry,
to slay the fat kid,
and hire 12 commoners to carry.
The First Lady is Michelle Obama
Robin Carretti Jul 2018
What if
I told you
not to discourage
The world and you

You're the part of nature
The very part to be loved
and captured

The world can be cruel not
meeting your expectation
  I want to encourage you

What we are not
We all need to be cared for
No-one needs to control you
You put you or not?
But your heart and soul
inside you
Was worth every
Worldbeat of a shot

Like an energy force

What we hear
let nature
take its course

How it got to you
But of course
Unexpected surprise or not
Another divorce
Spiritual eye
compelled you

To be or not to be
(The Shakespearian) dialogue
But what is concealed so secretive
Our loved ones
The world revolves around
(Many Rules) a dust of the wind
The dead ones The wild or bad ones
 What would it be without
colors and no control
The kindest hearts of souls

It's not very logical or practical
To use it never to abuse it how
another person transforms it
Solving the problems
Such a delicate moment touching a rose

And snap a pose Lady Madonna

Like it-or, not the Vogue space alien green
Your money is not always what it seems
The whole world in your hand
Feeling alienated mind polluted
The things that we are? Being Lifted

Why does a business make you feel
Nothingness the number
Well let's consider
yourself part of the family
We are not on this planet
to be right or wrong

How every molecule
 something clicks
The good earth Apple
computer console
All the keys comma, star,
how far will it go
So many deceased or not ever pleased
@  # whats the odds percentage %
The exclamation point! !! & etc
The addiction movies the drama

Fresh blueberries the sour cream
Not watching your diet what a dilemma
Those landmark cemeteries so
vivid not a dream and life to
overcome
your fears and dreams

Every Data color is the
warmest earth worth every beauty of color

Those homemade brownies
The revolving Globe
Her Grecian robe contemplating
You're the physical sensible person
Trying a (Sun filled) vacation
How it groves to shape right in
Healthy or not we were
born  to be loved

Our eyes see but they're
not clear not the friendly
Environment somehow mean

Or bluer than the sky clean
But "Hi' nice welcoming
Robin bird fly__*
Maybe it's not your true birth

Like a cry overflow

What do you know he knows
or she knows
Enjoy yourself your mind will be higher
Overly confident to feel pompous
The Showstopper word it nutritious
Don't underestimate
Who we really are the believer

Don't pull yourself back
with negativity

Accept the craziness
You're not the wallflower
The world captures you
every day cry or make it
your time to pray
Your head was spinning
with fascination like it was your
time of blessing
That European trip the
airplane pop of ears what is glory
Let the people hear your side of the story

The restlessness above all  the love
With such a will of ambition list
Feeling the dizziness

I know the world would be
a better place with smiling face
Show your hair with the
fresh cut daisy
The brightness soothes you
The Daisy my favorite
because of Mom
She taught me well

I will always be her daisy
What makes us happy
That personal growth we don't
need a wish just push forward
We were meant to do
this together
intertwined as both
Toward our happiness
What revolves around our world to see the world free or wild what do we really feel like in this heavenly good earth. We should kiss the ground we walk on or not is it really using up your time you are the one so worth living or not to find peace even when it's not what we need to resolve to move forward and love who we are
The Wicca Man Jul 2013
I could answer your questions with a simple, off-the-cuff explanation but have ended up writing this essay: the more I thought about what you’d asked, the more the I felt it warranted a fuller explanation so I will try to explain why I call myself a Wiccan and how I come to be following the Wicca Path. And apologies in advance for the length of this!

As well as my love of Literature, I love History with a similar passion. My degree was in English and History and although I specialised in Shakespearian and post-Shakespearian literature and Modern History, I have a long held fascination with Celtic and pre-Celtic history, beliefs and spirituality. It is the mysticism of the Old Religion that seemed to attract me most and I found myself drawn particularly to the Celtic and Welsh mythology and have read extensively about it: Cornwall and Wales (mid Wales in particular) are my two favourite places in the world. I have read a lot about Celtic and pre-Celtic history, beliefs and religion over the years, both fiction and non-fiction.

Although Jewish by birth, I was brought up by my father who was a confirmed atheist so I lost out on any formal religious influence as I was growing up. Perhaps because of his views, I developed a distrust of formal, mainstream religion. That’s not to say I felt I had no spiritual beliefs at all, it’s just they were untapped and unidentified; I felt I was reaching out for something but it never took on any tangible form, rather like in a dream when you cannot see clearly the faces or forms of the inhabitants of your dreams.

By the time I got into my forties, I realised there was something seriously lacking in the spiritual side of my life. These beliefs were compounded by three events:

    * reading James Lovelock's Gaia theory [which inspired me to write one of my favourite stories, Gaia's Last, published here];
    * my discovery of Jean Auel's Earth's Children series of books , Clan of the Cave Bear, etc. which go into extraordinary detail of Cro-Magnon peoples' belief in nature spirits, worship of The Mother and Shamanism;
    * a sudden change in my circumstances that forced me to re-evaluate every aspect of my life and my existence.

It was at this time I began to research the Old Religion: paganism, nature-worship, whatever you want to call it, and this led me to discover Wicca.

The more I read about it, the more I realised it fitted in with my current state of mind and outlook on life. Maybe there is a sense of escapism inasmuch as the roots of Wicca look backward to a simpler time and as I was having difficulty coping with the complexities of the changed circumstances in my life at the time. Wicca seemed to offer exactly the spiritual needs I was lacking.

That is not to say that Wicca is old-fashioned and out of date. Rather the contrary in fact. Whilst its roots acknowledge the Old Religion, Wicca is relatively modern having been developed by a guy called Gerald Gardner who published a book called Witchcraft Today in the 1940s I believe which re-established in the public eye the old pagan beliefs that have been around since the dawn of man. These beliefs never really disappeared even through the worst of the atrocities perpetrated against followers of the Old Religion [The Burning Times ]. (And just to make an important point about the title of the book and Wicca in general, Witchcraft in the pagan and Wicca context is NOT Black Magic or Satanism as the tabloid press or mainstream religion would have you believe; it could not be further from them. It is simply an acknowledgement of the existence of natural forces that can be used or channelled by those who choose to learn these ancient skills).

I have seen Wicca [and other forms of Paganism] referred to as Green Magic and that seems the perfect definition; it is immensely comforting to work so closely with the natural world and to feel such a part of it.

So for me, Wicca is an ideal spiritual antidote for the impossibly fast-paced, self-serving lifestyles we all seem to be caught up in these days, often through no choice of our own. It is as valid a belief system as any other practised throughout the world and is nothing like the forms of Wicca popularised in the media with TV shows like Charmed and its ilk!

Wicca is it is not something to be taken on lightly - Wicca practices should be treated with the same reverence as those in any other belief system. It requires study, practice and dedication.’

I have to confess to have been lacking in all three since I originally wrote this so have vowed to myself to rectify these shortcomings. I feel excited about my rekindled sense of spirituality and more at peace with myself for making this decision.

Go in Love & Light!
I hope people don't object to my posting this; I am a passionate believer in freedom of speech and of expression. I hope people here are open to these views, which are mine and in no way do I want to foist my views on anyone or indeed, cause offence.
Robin Carretti Aug 2018
Do you really think
everything you
see and touch or
love with such care
Has your name on it
   *      *      *      *      
*Divinity meet the Great

     *      *      *      *      
Lifetimes healing two freaking amazing feet


The house Mr. and Mrs.
   I suppose?
I double dare them
Great Play "Domino"
Where art thou freaking
match
Lover of all time Romeo

Prince and the Pauper her lovely
peasant dress the big catch of the day
This is the fisherman
All hooks and bait of
workmanship
The naked play Julliete
begin
So totally wherein

The spiritual home
never doubt I love

Shakespearian historian
Two Love DovesVictorain
Spiritual growth

Unconditionally
Freaking Great Earth

Defines your passion
The best creation your birth
Our defeat nothing turns
automatically sweet

This is our
"Great Expectations"

What to value anymore
Constitution versus the
Freaking Show Institution

Full bloom maturity growing
adventure unknown
On the same wavelength
He still dresses the same
In the Same town
New York Serendipity
Ice cream cookie dough mix the
freak shakes

That's great no time for breaks
The Baskin sin Robbins
Robin Bob Bobbin

People are not surviving
Their world is too weak
They cannot stretch to hold

The French connection kiss
fourteen carats of gold
Making a rise in good stock
Cattle sold
The Trump Tower fall out stars
The great year for puzzles

The worlds are full of moments
when we shouldn't be laughing
Not a great time he meets your
sadness
Round star of tears kindness

In her movement happiness walk
The worst times bring out her
   freaky nature  

Never aches either to change
Furniture looks modern cold
freaking great hot she was told

To be bonded in a marriage
Feeling older like her antique
wicker baby carriage
Eiffel tower the powerful
romance hour meeting her
happy hour

He is shopping for suits
Going back to his Brooklyn roots
smells of food feeling good

Getting into someone's mind
Meet Robin Hood
If I can turn back time the vessel
The Joker wild fossil

Like a freaking booker
there is no guarantee
The Suspense is killing me
don't freak out

Not paying your rent on-time
Those specks marked up your glasses
Time passes but your making a
spectacle of yourself


Imagine the world all alone
Brillantina smiling at
the Mona Lisa petite ballerina
Great Professor brother
Freaking out sister
Two-headed circus the Freakshow  
The haves or
the have-nots week went slow

The trees someone's apple poison
Gives someone such pleasure
companion what a complicated
mission

  Too deeply dwell in the possibilities

Each morning we are born again
Broke some blood capillaries
Or time will tell the Vampire Diaries

Tomorrow is another day
How you wish every day was payday

Almond eyes creaminess
The pick-up color of your dress
What is curdling freaky spooking
No time to Hail the Mary
Milk Soy what a cute
little miracle boy

Even talking on your
Light up tree ringtones
Out of your comfort
high cheekbones
Egyptian Camels sandstorm
Kiss your Mother just feel

His smile fireplace candescent
With your lover, he could
paint your body how
time just went in a heartbeat

The world is moving but
you're losing some gravity
But he lifts some parts
Sinking your teeth into the
best corn on the cob

Medieval times his
sword is taking
Anew freaking shape
Emerging and peeking out
Hair is French braided fine
knotted

He zooms out freaking great
one of a kind Corvette
Calling to you your name
He told the world
standing like a God
We are all freaking great
  
Poets* Just start to know it
This is freaking great or not we laugh sometimes when things aren't funny but that's okay we need to move on and make it the better day even if our prayers are not answered its in our hearts the best parts are you-you are the freaking great
LeeAnn Nov 2013
William Shakespeare: playwright and poet
My absolute favorite of all time
The master of words in plays and sonnets
Unappreciated during his prime
His comedies still make us laugh today
Who could forget The  Taming  of  the  Shrew?
Now it's told in a much different way
A movie: The  Ten  Things  I  Hate  About  You
People think of his many tragedies
Othello,  Romeo  and  Juliet
We still feel their sorrow; weak at the knees
We cry for the Prince of Denmark:  Hamlet.
"But soft! What light through yonder window break?"
The work of a legend those words do make!
Had to write a poem for class, and I kind of liked it :) After my idol, William Shakespeare!
“It really sickens me that you can’t take this life straight,” she said.

Her eyes were afire with a pink halo of hatred that smote her compassion. She reached for her coat and wrenched the cheap motel room door open. It made a small dull thud as it hit the brittle plaster wall. (I hoped my deposit would cover the damage.)

She was one surreal moment’s breath away from leaving me there for good.

“You’re a lonely old man because you’re a selfish old *******,” she said.

She disappeared down the walkway like some direful wraith caught in the night wind. The curt sound of her red highheeled shoes clicking the worn concrete. The inexplicable proof of her existence ferried away in a sea of incandescent tail lights that shown from the highway.  

Maybe she was right. Maybe I can’t take this life straight and never hope to. And, maybe I am selfish. But, I’m only selfish because I’m so **** lonely all the time. That’s the ***** of it. Life is a never-ending toilet bowl flush of selfishness, drunkenness, *****, and utter loneliness.

It took me too many years to figure out that the problem wasn’t her, or even with other people for that matter, it was with me.

It’s only when we figure ourselves out that we realize that we’ve been doing a lot of things wrong with our lives. Listening to the wrong voices in our heads. Taking the wrong advice from strangers. Avoiding the admonitions of those who really love you. These things happen all the time. None of us has the answers. I don’t know anything.

In fact, after all the years I spent searching for meaning in academia perusing dusty libraries and old bookstores for that gem of knowledge, I can tell you definitively that only ignorance is bliss. That it’s even true when it comes to dating. The less you think you know the better you are.

I guess this is where the train stops for me. Time to get off. Try something else. Take to the woods and grow a manly neck-beard like Thoreau did in Walden. Adhere to the early American philosophy of rugged individualism and all that. Too soon would I realize that life isn’t about solitude, or a separation from others; rather it’s about the connections we make. Solid connections.

The hedonistic Epicurus tells us to live a life of pleasure through the temperance of desire, and warns us not to seek what is inappropriate for us mortals, but to enjoy our mortal needs.

I do not know if Epicurus ever found a mate, a friendship, or even a partner to share his most intimate thoughts with besides his raucous audience, but I do know he died in isolation away from society. I’ve never been a hedonist. I’m far too traditional for all that.

My sordid love life is more akin to Ovid’s Metamorphoses and the tragic story of Echo and Narcissus.

I’ve been Narcissus for too many years to count and what’s worse I was in oblivion. For too long have I been unto myself. Admiring only myself. The time has come to choose. Either die like Narcissus or live and love with Écho.

I’d like to walk in the sunlight, drink from the cool springs, and with a Shakespearian passion bask in it’s eternal glow and live inside the warm,  but ever ethereal, love of another’s heart.

To love another with such Shakespearian passion would lead me to realize that the only thing my love can save is myself. And, all the time this duality would haunt me—to unequivocally know that without the tenderness of Echo in one’s life there is only the vain Narcissus.

For now you know the duality, that is also the tragedy, of this man. Let that echo in your ears and see if it does not ring with the truth of all men.
Robin Carretti Jul 2018
The natural you and what about him
The Zen  gold egg climber Prince
Got his "Godly" rinse of the hen
We always knew their way upon
our thinking "Jumping Jack Flash"
But to be the change the day single
let's be feasible naturally, we mingle
The Holy water medieval drinking
By the night call, something is moving
Like a creature not in human form

We need to meet our expectations
More spoken revelations and terms
Naturally, we were born to be told
we have the fire to move any force
Even when our bones are getting old
  That powerful love but someone is
watching us above

With higher hopes will make
it through lovesick she coughs
The Passageway like a click of her heels
Feeling the beauty but climbing high
Naturally being cool with her sigh
Or the carriage day vintage wine
Her lucky wheel

World’s are invitation the engagement,
The sweet words or the terms of endearment
Be the Higher lover up in the Prince bow to her
A need to get higher inside the
Castle what a love hustle like a stampede

The rampage turning the ancient pages
Rock and roll ages or the Gothic pale
Victorian beauty her name Judy
Sir page the Grand Marnier
or change of pace human race
The drink Moet                            
High Mighty King singing

Her heart shape ring beating

Fresh-cut or worn out smoke put out
Brighten her pleasure the rose repose
To be born  not a piece of paper torn
Like a Queen reborn

For love how its spoken not just
City Girl with her token for-God-sake
can you look through her
wing turned up she is curled up
in her new threads of sheets
eyes please she is not ready
to hear goodbyes to your beat
What do you read is she naturally
beautiful than or now

Her naturally glow lights up
The Shakespearian castle
   Two nature healers, not the
same as card dealers

  Butterflies the fireflies
Her love shape naturally
that's no lie

  It comes naturally to be loved


    More like homed bakes muffin _


Google the nature of things spoken but
they may not come
Please don't wait too long
Perhaps there is always someone
to copy your song


Be the climber love for who she is
Her vegetables her sensuality is quite
organically raw
She loves her side dish coleslaw

How nature made us in the womb
Naturally spoken things like her sub combo
This is a meditation we need a salvation to feel free and have our own wings to fly even if you get so close enough to realize the goodbye just climb higher in your spirit to live it
I wake from life, the sleeping of the soul.
A body now before me, still in death:
A boy turned man turned corpse, and now the toll
Of measured time; serene and spent of breath.

In thought without a skull to harbor thought,
Reflection and conviction now refresh.
All Earthly duties, unfulfilled, shall rot;
Life’s aspirations fading with this flesh.

No blood to carry chemical caprice,
I witness being, true divinity:
At last as spirit, I arrive at peace
And join the energy, infinity.

In life, the sleeping soul is ever tried,
And waits for death, when life is justified.
brandon nagley Jul 2015
i

This is for thou both miss Vicki, and miss Beth Stclair, true poet's
Miss Beth StClair, thy sonnet style, brings back the old smile I see;
Miss Vicki, writing of love so quickly, so beautifully inspiring
Miss beth, thy word's got me flying I'll buyeth thy book real soon.

ii

Miss Vicki, thou art an old soul made of gold, a home amongst homes, as thou liveth in mine state, miss beth, I'd seeith thee if I go to England, amongst the Beatle street's we'll speaketh of ourn living's, and reciteth sonnet's of Shakespearian knowledge.

iii

Miss Vicki, thy jargon is wrapped like a bouquet, glazed with honey, thine words art displayed, people in this world like Thee I do prayeth, that thine life wilt be joyful, and harmonious in thy tommorrow, beth, I feeleth thine wild's, as the sixties thou hadst.

iv

Beth StClair, if it was back in the day, we'd be wonderful friend's, thou wouldst hath watched me on a stage, singing poetic thunder, miss Vicki, when thou feeleth down and under, continue to write thy creator in thy works, and I promise thou both, thou both hath

A friend in me......





©Brandon nagley
©Miss Vicki/miss Beth StClair dedication for both of you (:::::
©Lonesome poet's poetry
A dedication to to amazing poets who inspire me
Miss Vicki and miss Beth StClair (::: love ya both
Yonas Mengisteab Mar 2018
I drown
In your eyes
I melt
In your smile
I shiver
In your closeness
I am mute
At your sight
But should I
Or should I not?
I want you
But I’m scared
Of heartbreak
And despair
I fear that
You will go
And I will be
Left alone
Trust I
Or trust I not?
You are the highlight
Of my fantasies
The hope
Of my realities
The source
Of my frivolities
Love I you
Or love I not
That is the question.
3/6/2018
i love William  Shakespeare poems more than anything else, this poems is dedicated to my love Eden who is always treated me like a child.
O golden-tongued Romance with serene lute!
Fair plumed Syren! Queen of far away!
Leave melodizing on this wintry day,
Shut up thine olden pages, and be mute.
Adieu! for once again the fierce dispute
Betwixt damnation and impassioned clay
Must I burn through; once more humbly assay
The bitter-sweet of this Shakespearian fruit.
Chief Poet! and ye clouds of Albion,
Begetters of our deep eternal theme,
When through the old oak Forest I am gone,
Let me not wander in a barren dream,
But when I am consumed in the Fire,
Give me new Phoenix wings to fly at my desire.

— The End —