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the stone had been left alone
to trek in search of a pool
that when a child offered the stone a floatie
the stone turned down the offer  
to drown
in the “stone’s special pool”
maybe the insecurity/pride/resentment
adding a extra ton or two
When I started hitting the gym, I had no trainer, friends and what not. Today I laughed how flustered I was when this other gentleman came up to me to give me advice.
Alan S Bailey Jun 2020
A million words, a million thoughts,
We've all been here writing till the end of time.
What new ones may have been brought?
It's all I can think of, did something happen?
Am I still original or am I out of line?

"Soon-to-be-victorious" you start the  song,
A dirge of memories past, till the very last.
The rhythm sounds like 'other time folk music,'
Played to an *****-like effect,
I guess you would be able to out-do my
Eccentric best.

Keep playing that well worn traditional back-days song!
You know I was here to **** you down all  along...
piper m Apr 2020
My baby
I don't want your leftover time.
Although I am sad that you are no longer mine,
You don't know what you want, babe
And I think that's alright.
But I know that I'm worth more than your leftover time.
Derrek Estrella Mar 2020
There is a beauty, I must confess
In the roll of her eyes
She is an all-encompassing baroness
In ill disguise
There is something behind her charred lips
That I do wish to hold
But when she sharpens her lilac fingertips
I simply lose my soul

Sat still by the fire, she seemed to me
Sadly contrary to eternity
She speaks with words that one cannot teach
Her gaze beckoned me to reach

She walks to me on scalpels
I cannot deny her
She drowns my tongue
In the sound of lyres
Her name, Her name
Her name, Her name
Her name, Her name
Her name

Escapes my mouth
Through no fault of mine
She cannot be held
In the interest of time
Her age will never show too clear
When her hood falls down
The sun will kneel
There will be no sound
But her spinning heel
This conquest, so severe
Her teeth lash out like mirrors
I held her hand in fear

As she types away all of her rights
She keeps ******* tied
When she asked me to call her Eurydice
I politely declined
She threw a fleeting fit that died with a kiss
From me unto her hand
Then she said, “how could you throw away all this bliss?”
I couldn’t understand
She snapped her toes, the room bellowed
I quickly shrivelled in brilliant fright
Her nest of pearly hair swallowed me
Then she fell out of sight

The lady stood behind me
In a dress of pins
She smiled and swayed
I never saw her again
Her name, Her name
Her name, Her name
Her name, Her name
Her name

Escapes my mouth
Through no fault of mine
She cannot be held
In the interest of time
Her face will never show too clear
When her hood falls down
The sun will kneel
There will be no sound
Nor pain to feel
Her footsteps, so severe
As the pangs of her toes echo clear
I run, for I know she’s near
Mamta Wathare Feb 2020
You
Like a threadbare rug
weaved in only the colour of moon
I carried you in my soul
long before
we met

Being with you
is like watching snowflakes
for the first time
Ice melts
warmth fills my soul
and a folk tune plays
in the universe
Mark Wanless Jan 2020
the simple folk surround me
the terribles astound me
i wonder which i am sometimes
and walk among the free
Travis Wilson Dec 2019
You've heard of Old John Ford
Who lived like a Carolina Lord
He defied the king
But before that thing
He was the first man e'er to fly

Was fine bright day that drew out
To find a goose good, fat and stout
Into the woods he went
Rope in hand, by a creek he bent

A hunting man is patient, true
But when flock swam by he knew
He had too long waited
To be so easily sated
And one just would not do

So this clever fellow, a fine knot drew
And with his fine rope,
he slide down the *****
And into the water he swam

Arriving at the first fat goose
He slid the noose
Gently around the foot
And with no sudden motion
As to avoid commotion
On to the next he swam

When Old John Ford had counted nine
He figured that'd be just fine
And out of the water he sprang

In terror the geese sprang high
Said Ford "Oh I'm a clever guy"
But quickly the smile faded
For he hadn't anticipated
What a flock of nine can do

And I tell ya boy, he flew!

They took him high
Until to his earthly eye
The world looked small indeed
And he cursed his selfish greed

For days did they fly
With that greedy guy
And do you know what they did do?
They took him to Peru!

When no longer they he could carry
And I tell ya, this is scary
They dropped him there and then
And he fell into a dern bear den!

Said he, "this can't be worse,
I'll rectify this curse"
And stuck behind a cub
He grabbed it's little tail stub
And with his knife, he pricked it twice
And out from the den he was drug!

Then to find his geese nine
For after home did he pine
And for a few more days he flew
And back in Carolina what did he do?

He named that spot Goose Creek
And we call it that today
I heard about this folk take from Union County, NC a few years ago and decided to write my own version of it. I decided it was John Ford because my best guess is that he was the original star of the story.
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