One day, the body decided to choose, they all wanted a say, win or lose. Never knowing who was boss, had made them all tired, on that day, this is what transpired...

The heart said* "I should be in charge, I'm the toughest muscle and my love is large"
Said the feet, "Well, that's not fair. Without me you could go nowhere."
The hands spoke up, "Who helps you eat and drives your auto down the street?"

"Don't you like your balance, and how we help you dance, without us, you'd never stand a chance" said the arms in unison.
"Oh! But I'm not done" entered the heart, singing this tune "I guide you all blindly along, bringing hope and faith, why not sing my song?"

This sorely raised the sphincter's ire... "Without me, all you would expire... I'll constipate and blur the eyes, make you weak within the thighs. Make the brain go comatose, dribble on you feet, yea, that would be gross..."

****** says to all, clear as day "Excuse me! I have something to say! Without me, you'd all be no more, for I give life, you're all a bore. I'm done with this stupid dispute!"
"Ummm, excuse me love muffin," says the thighs, "But if I didn't open wide, your point would be mute!"

The eyes chimed in, "Look here... Oh, that's right... You cannot see... Who better to guide you along... Without my help, how lost you'd be"

"I have a question." said the brain.  "Don't you thin... Oh, wait... Without me you're all nothing. Legs couldn't walk, mouth could not talk, heart wouldn't believe and no one would breathe!"

"I'm your pull toy, your magic ****... I make the babies... Yes, I be a *****!" said Mr. You Know Who
"I think you smell funny" laughed the nose,  "Go cry to your mommy,  Boohoo!"

"If you think that smells bad," said miss muffin... "Take a lick on this and then get stuffin!"

"Don't forget about me! I can hear, I'm important too, I'm your ear!"
"Well, I'm more important, I let you all breathe" said the lungs.
"Without me you couldn't speak!" said the mouth, sticking out his tongue.

Said the sphincter, "I've told you all so... Without me working you'd be slow, you'd grow weak and cease to function and I'll close up with no compunction...."  The other vital organs heard and then conceded without a word and then came the extremities who had no choice but to agree.

*Now you know, this little story goes, you don't need to be a brain to be boss, just an *******.

By: Debbie Brooks
And Dee

So golden like with rays of golden mist
As a pair of loving birds seem entwined
With visions of beauty adorning eyelashes
He is the only one I see …

With eyes lock in the flame
I transform, morph in his love
With every moment that runs by,
My face blushing hotter as he stares …

His making love to me with his eyes
As I melt into his being, I exhale a heaving sigh…
As he touches my face and travels low
With the lowest of whispers, I murmur now please …

With a rush of electric ripples running through
From head to toe, as he peers deeper in my soul,
There is gentleness as he brushes my face with his,
As his passionate kiss, flows through my release …
______________
*With you standing so close to me
Aromas of your presence wafting with the breeze
Is it possible for a mere human like I
To restrain, pause and wonder why

Even Gods, in your presence
Would forego their piety and prescience
Your love, I catch with the tip of my tongue
That escapes your parted lips with a deep sigh

My eyes firing a staccato of cupid’s arrows
You standing in all your bare glory
The first touch is heaven’s ecstasy
The second, a desire for symmetry

As in fantasized temple’s libations
We climb mountainous manifestations
In a dancing and pirouetting flamenco
Reaching a rhythmic crescendo…

libations is the flow of liquid...as an offering in a temple

~Poet V-Ink (Viewtiful)
Inside my head
inspiration wars for
territory/ my eyes
inviting any and everything
in it's path inside with a story
that I'll tell it's story

My mood doesn't
always shelter my
desires to be creative
but my eyes never stop
working constantly supplying me
with inspiration...

some times I don't
wanna write.....

so what's inside
becomes impatient...

So things decide
to up and leave
through the crevices
in my face and....

It spills in its
desired form so
it's ink my skin is
tasting.... I apologize
ahead of time my gift
and it's vision care nothing
of your time it's wasting

~Rebel Flower
Inside my head there is a place
awaking the purpose to write
like incisions on a platter
like a golden sizzorr
Cutting in time wasted
where it could be
used in skills practice
to free a prisoner of rest
Like leggos we stack purpose
And speeches never frail
There are times of a nothingness
for ink flows and poetic thoughts
yet naturally words
yell at my window for spills

a welcoming and re-entering

Paving for my souls exertion
editing exact details
carrying in a song in my psalms

I don't live in the gift
the gift lives in me
touring like a concert to sooth
or even to feel
Like a record playing on repeat
This is my mental obsession.

~Poet V-Ink (Viewtiful)
I'm obsessed
with all the talent
god has left me to
possess but sometimes
I get upset at the lack
of control I have over
the information my mind
accepts/ granted a gift to
project messages hidden
in the mess life lessons usually
left but I stress because that gift
sometimes forces my tired hand
to respect

I struggle...

some much on my
mind absent the intention
to invest... How do I turn
off the switch to how my
registry was blessed..

~Rebel Flower
Blessings of such a skill
at times may be overwhelming
I picture the gift of words a performer
When need of pros we feed our drive
as well as the audience
We plumage into a well
of urgent tunes
then we tiré, and we are restless
poetry never dies
it will come back when need of a place
of itself to live again and again.
Every poet needs a light
and the switch will dim in any time
I'd worry more when it flips back on
How great the light will be.

© Copyright 2014 Poet V-Ink &
S.T. Rebel of Eden.

A beacon of hope, you came to me
A lighthouse found before I drowned at sea
All along I was searching for some meaning
Praying for more than the life I'd been leading

North, East
West and South
Lost in many ways
Possible
Tracks erased
I’m following a small star
Trying to find
Where you are

The stars make a play of calling out your name
I use airplanes for wishes and your voice to stay sane
Dream catchers cast shadows along every wall
I try hard to stand upright yet I usually fall

Every day that passes by
It kinda ***** knowing
Time still lies
60 minutes that runs so fast
While savoring
Moments that don’t really last

Dancing beneath a matching sunrise
Kindred souls and kaleidoscope eyes
Gliding like feathers in a world of anchors
Crafted this safe haven in a life of danger

Time, sweet time
Not really caring
Just handing out limes
I’m just a shadow
Blown around by the wind
Till the signs show up
And now we’re intertwined

Another coffee so late as wait 'til tomorrow
Meeting again like the sky greets the sparrow
First time I saw you, I knew I'd met my truth
The stars aligned on time, and then I saw you

© krissie
© Karl Chua

pretty fascinating mind
appearing light,
flecking dangerously close.
swallow
let go

But keep one pinky on the edge.
Walk the line easily
between fascinating
and ******* with words.

fighting whats left inside me
i am or am i
laughing,
throwing my voice,
cracking the night,
And another bite mark
finds

A scar
A humble star
A version here
A ******* there

the quiet hits,
as it will,
defeat in my bones,
Quickly it does distill.
Looking around the room
momentarily left insane,
fringed, frightened,
buried cold

long dark rings
tucked in the eyes
black circles where you've hid
those years
behind.
Defined in every happy ending
to an ever-ending ride
In my pretty fascinating mind.

Funny how the mind works
When it is we snooze
Diving into dreams
Splashing crazy loose

Trouble behind us
There'll be trouble ahead
Don't let the worries
Be all that is fed

Open up to enlightenment
Brush the cobwebs aside
Don't answer the door to your nightmares
Focus clearly with your minds eye

Tomorrow isn't cast in stone
Yesterdays sun has set
You can't enjoy the moments between
While dwelling on regret

So what you fill your mind with
In your daily dreams
Can make all the difference in the world
In how you wake and how you sleep

(was i the one who stopped time or was that the girl before me?
was i the one who donated a thousand butterflies to your insides or was that the girl before me?)

was i the one who sowed the sun into your eyes or did the girl before me have more skillful hands?

(was i the one who buried your grief, your pain, your hopelessness, or did the girl before me dig deeper?)

  was i the one who swallowed your sadness to the pit of my stomach and kept it there or did the girl
before me swallow an ocean?

(was i the one who made your thoughts come alive in the night or was the girl before me a better playwright than i?)

was i the glittery diamond that caught your eye amongst the rubble or did the girl before
me have a sparklier dress?

(was i the one who healed your aching heart or did the girl before me have more tender hands, a soothing voice and a better elixir?)

was i the one who you wanted to heal so desperately or did the girl before me shatter into more
pieces than you could carry?

(were my arms the place you called "home" or were the girl before me's arms more delicate yet able to hold you closer to her heart?)

was i the one who set your heart on fire or was the girl before me a more reckless arsonist?

(was i the one who placed your head in the clouds or was the girl before me already a haven?)

was i the one who taught you what hell felt like or did the girl before me have the hands
of the devil?

(was i the one who unfolded the meaning of life to you or was the girl before me a better philosopher?)

was i the one who taught you how terrible death is or did the girl before me's suicide note
have more tragic poetry?

(was i the one who made your voice sore from screaming for me to come back to you or was the girl before me more desirable?)

was i the one who made your hands shake or was the girl before me a little less of a hurricane
and more of an earthquake?

(was i the one who shattered your soul on the marble floor or was the girl before me's strength more tempting to give in to?)

was i the one who left bloodstains on your carpet or did the girl before me have lipstick that
was quite a convincing red?

(were you glad your nightmares stopped with me or did you secretly enjoy them because they reminded me of the wild nights you shared with her?)

(G.S. )                                                                                                                                                                                                                    (N.N.)

While others were swapping gossip we were sharing hearts broken by those we had the (mis)fortune of calling 'family'.

I showed you how to hide your bruises and you taught me how to throw a right hook and, God, by no means were we anything, but you were everything and on nights when my father used me as a substitute for a punching bag you were there to hold me and you promised as I sobbed into your chest that you'd be my savior but even the strongest fall and your skin is too soft.

While others were swapping notes, we were sharing tears pooled at the toes of those whom we had the (mis)adventure of calling 'lovers'.

I showed you how to keep the pain of infidelity out of your eyes and you taught me how to set my problems on fire. Hell, by no means did I think I could be anything but you, you could do everything and I envied each gentle brush stroke you kissed to your world-canvas until all I began to see was green. On nights when I drew up the courage to try to be more than what I was, you would encourage me by guiding my hand and my heart, until I learned that my faith in you was dangerous as affection deepened from leaves into roots, and even though you were my savior my armor was too ******* strong to be broken again and I fell from your branches and crawled away slowly, even with broken limbs.

While others were worrying about their futures we were wondering if we even had a future, our romantic predisposition (un)fortunately labeling us to a life that was far from easy.

Somewhere my emotions went from protective to romantic and seeing you with him left me feeling as though I'd eaten an imploding star. Our friendship faltered as you tried so desperately to be someone you weren't and I struggled to come to terms with the fact that I was slowly, inevitably losing the only family I had left and all because I'd made the stupid ******* mistake of falling in love with my best friend. God. We weren't star crossed lovers - we were two black holes who had mistaken the other for a ******* star and realized too late that we were only destined to destroy, not love.

While others were worrying about how to use their tongues to knot cherry stems, we were worrying about how to use our teeth to win our battles, our gallant response to solitude (un)successfully molding us into warriors.

Somewhere my leaving pried at the sleep-dust on your lashes until you realized that this wasn't a dream- I was really gone and I knew seeing me with her left you feeling as though you'd danced with a cobra and forgotten your flute, or how to tap your feet to the ground accordingly. Our friendship died so quickly, and I'd begun to start seeing every color so vibrantly that emerald was only nostalgic and dull, though you struggled to come to terms with the fact that you didn't understand why I'd decided to follow the path of a kamikaze in my new life's cycle- surely that's what it must feel like, away from you? But 'best friend' is a category that isn't reserved from me, because nobody ever abashed me for watching your every move too deeply ( you danced when you walked, hoping that nobody would notice that extra sway in your hips ) or for the light in your eyes when you smiled ( hell, you were the sun, the stars, the moon, and all of their supernovas when you smiled at me ), and maybe I could say that I didn't know any better, but when my palms would ache for a little lick of your spine, I knew. I knew too ******* late that I'd better move galaxies away just to avoid being ****** further into you.

While others celebrated their long awaited ascent to graduation we too busy contemplating the almost (un)berable distance between stars.

Maybe it was because I'd mended your broken bones, helped hide the bruises - taught you the meaning of the word home that it hurt so badly. To pretend was to lie and I have always been honest and, God, I swear your eyes are made from lightning because the way you look at me has my skin tingling as though it'd been licked by fire and, Jesus, I have spent countless nights wondering what it would be like to have a taste of your lips. So when I showed up with a bottle of whiskey as my apology I knew I had doomed us because our past had proven that we lingered in darker tendencies and I'm not sure what burned more, the whiskey or your lips but God I would gladly drown myself in both. With your arms around my neck and my hands on your waist I knew that we weren't going to last because you deserved better than a carcass of a girl (even if your fingertips made me feel more alive than I have been in years). I was already dead inside but God, God - I would do anything to live for you.

I have a poetic bone in my body, I swear; I've seemed to misplace it
I'll search inside the cabinets, within the threads of my bedsheets
maybe you've withheld it in your eyes
breaking it with your icy glare,
maybe you enjoyed hearing it crack and shatter into pieces, 
was the dissonance music to your ears?
i thought i saw it the other day, chasing the hand you walked out on, 
funny how it could've escaped my grasp
when I once held it so close like the proverbial hand of cards,
a treasured piece of myself.
I can hear it now, it reverberating through the forest like the drumbeat of your heart.
Toying with me, a little girl attached to the strings of a puppeteer
suspending itself among the wind chimes that whisper melodies to the wind
it hangs there, taunting me with gut wrenching lullabies, torturing my every-waking moment
with the unmistakeable clinging of its own remnants.
I don't know if it'll ever return to me; do i even want it to?