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Tree branch prancing,

Raindrop race,

Icy wind dancing,

Washed satin, cotton and lace.

**


(When you wash laundry and it starts raining...)
walking through the hidden realm of my heart,

whistling close by me, a poisoned dart,

burning lightning in a pearly orb,

the essence of my agony you absorb,

echoes of a dog's anguished howl,

the opening eyes of a new-born foal,

ruby tears from the eyes of an innocent child,

a Spanish bull fight gone wild,

fiery chimera in a hailstone blizzard,

a multilingual emerald, flying-lizard,

purple mountain majestic mistletoe kiss,

a rare sorrowful bliss,

a distant ringing of mournful bells,

walking along a rocky beach collecting empty shells,

carousel of blood-hounds, running on fire,

my only desire; to hear this unearthly ire,

wretched arlequin, juggling the last string of sanity,

this truly isn't a show of subconscious vanity,

reaping emotions at such surprising speeds,

along with bitter memories of horrendous deeds,

diving into a sun-warmed tropical reef,

floating with fire coral far beneath,

a lilytrotter on candy-sweet waters,

the irreplaceable smile of a cherished daughter,

a blue fish dancing on a ghastly moon,

corruption swept away by a gilded monsoon,

a flurry in a race-horse chase,

no thoughts left to chastise,

shrewd smell of ancient tree-spice,

lingers in the unreachable corners of paradise,

when the red and golden banners are hung,

a far-off nightingale's song is sung,

the cresent moon, white-light projector,

an involuntary earth-life protector,

darling Ludwig, you sly minx,

for you have put my uncontrollable will under a jinx,

I'm ****, my true colours on display,

until it comes my time to decay,

Elise trapped thee heart in Limbo,

full of shadowed stars and powdered moonshine,

in a fairytale land divine,

treacherous Elise, make a speech,

of words no Poet can breech,

to thy trespasser, rowing,

in forbidden waters of longing melody.

175 seconds of unabridged art in blood...




AN: I'm sorry about how mad this first appears to be. If any of you know the history behind the song Für Elise then you might understand what this rant-like poem is on about.

Elise, (not her real name) was proposed to by Ludwig van Beethoven but rejected him to be with an Austrian nobleman. It is thought he wrote this for her. So I tried to describe a bit of the emotions he put into tune.


(there are many theories on who this song was meant for but I just chose this one)
she's slowly starting to forget things
but she preps her mind in stride
she constantly worries about this
i can tell when she tries to hide

and i know that it's absolutely frightening for her.
to lose her mind. to lose herself. to let worry win her over.
she focuses more out of fear and concentrates fiercely.
she practices her sounds and her faces. she memorizes scriptures and places.

"remember when we did this" - "it feels so long ago that we did that"
and i don't have the heart to tell her that i wasn't there.  
and my soul hurts for this dear woman of mine...who is slowly losing her mind.
as she tries to grasp the sanity that was never meant to stay long.

my mama is getting older. so i'll continue to use that excuse and comment lightly
that it is only stress that's getting to her. that she needs a holiday.
she'll take those reasons for now...but i know she still hides.
not a poem at all...just a cry of frustration. i feel/fear for this woman.
Long but important to read...

Marjorie picks up the phone
She's quite sure that she's alone
Punches in a good "friend's" number
She's excited! It's no wonder!
Something NAUGHTY to convey.
Can't wait to tell
Can't wait to say...

"Hello, Sally?  Yeah, it's ME!
I'm at the window and
GUESS what I see?!!!
You know that ***** across the way?
She's with ANOTHER MAN today!!!
Hannah's hubby... right next door.
Can you BELIEVE that little *****?!!!
I'm tellin' you 'cause I'm your friend
This wicked business has to end...
... wait a minute... there they GO!!!
They're LEAVING! I'll bet you know
Where they're headed... oh you bet.
A motel room is what THEY'LL get.

Juicy fruit spills from the lips
Open mouth and out it slips
Sweet as stricnine to the tounge
Where the poison apple's hung.
If you have nothin' NICE to say
We're all ears... come OUR way!
There's a tale to be told
It's for the young and for the old.
It's a SECRET on the block
If it's SCANDALOUS... LET'S TALK.

Sally Jo hangs up her cell
Calls a good "friend" as well...

"Hello, Jane? Just talked to Marge
Got some NEWS and it is LARGE...
You know that HARLOT up the street?
You'll never guess who
She went to meet!!!
Hannah's HUBBY! !! Oh... gee ****!!!
I can't BELIEVE this latest biz!!!
Marge told me... it can't be wrong...
They were KISSING ON THE LAWN!!!
THEN they drove off in his CAR...
They weren't going very far.
No Tel Motel's where they're at.
Whatcha expect from an ALLEY CAT.
Hannah's gonna flip her lid!
I won't tell... so keep it hid...

Juicy fruit spills from the lips
Open mouth and out it slips
Sweet as stricnine to the tounge
Where the poison apples hung.
If you've nothing nice to SAY
We're all ears come OUR way!
There's a tale to be told
It's for the young and for the old.
It's a secret on the block
If it's SCANDALOUS LET'S TALK.

The story spread around of course.
Hannah filed for divorce.
Her hubby? He lost his job...
As PASTOR of a CHURCH OF GOD.
And Suzanne (the *****)?
Well. She died.
She committed suicide.

The REAL STORY then came out.
Not a whisper but a SHOUT.
Suzanne's son? He needed PILLS.
Guess no one knew that he was ill.
She wasn't going very far...
... and her pastor had a CAR.

Who's the culprit? Who's to blame?
Guess we all know HER name.
Who's to count the tragic cost?
Her little boy was also lost.
He FOUND HER. Went 'round the bend.
An alcoholic in the end.
Felt guilty that he could not save...
Drank himself to an early grave.

The tounge can be a thing of praise
Or ignite a MIGHTY blaze.
So check your HEART.
And check your MOUTH.
Or you may be headed south.

Kindness is JOY in age or youth.
You reap what you sow...

... and that's the TRUTH.


Soul Survivor

Catherine Jarvis (c) 2011
All rights reserved
A seed has the potential
to be a rose
or briar
but has no choice
in the matter

YOU DO.

20W
Soul Survivor
2014
1.
Suffering hardens the heart.
Pain creates an ache inside
and outside that hardens
the walls that let our hearts
be open.

2.
My own heart has encountered
great suffering.  Pain entered
into my heart and the hardened
walls kept it trapped inside.
It took a great deal of suffering
for me to surrender and
let my heart embrace everything.

3.
A tender heart accepts pain
and joy with gratitude.  
It stays open through
the good times and the bad.
My spiritual muscle
expands and contracts
with the rhythm of my
heart.
Strange woman, cheerful and chase
Charming as cheerleaders, choosy with cheese
Attractive, pleasing, ballsy and proud
But she'll crash you down to the ground.

Strange woman, fine as flour
Free as fire, and fair as flowers
Luring, tempting, **** and all
But she'll break your body and soul.

Strange woman, soft as silk
Sleek as snakes, and sweet as sweets
Alluring, teasing, luscious as oil
But she'll wreck your marital spoils.

© Raphael Uzor
Inspired by Proverbs 5
Dedicated to all married men.
In the course of a lifetime
We would have asked "what if...?"
Some, a hundred times
Some, a thousand times
Others, a million times.

"What if I don't make it?"
"What if she doesn't love me?"
"What if he leaves me?"
"What if the stock market crashes?"
"What if America is nuked?"

Usually, we focus on important issues
Often, overlooking the most important
What if we asked better "what if's"?
Like; "what if I die tonight?"
"What if I don't make heaven?"


© Raphael Uzor
Accept Jesus today, I beg u...!
There are secrets in the wind
that runs its fingers
through your hair
tossing about a wild ballet
of unruly ripples and waves

It lifts homemade kites
from calloused hands
toward heaven, in leaps and loops
and crazy twirls that swoop the ground,
whispering to the grass
and shouting at the roaring sea

It caresses a warm breeze
in the cool twilight
of a lazy summer's eve
and unleashes fury
in chaotic rage
across the alleys
of midwestern plains

The wind listens
to the first cry of newborn babes
and carries away
the last breath of vanquished men

It fills the sky with unbound wonder
and settles in the leaves of ancient trees
that rock and sway to the rhythm
of its secret splendor
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