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Rudy's idea
that trump
hush money
with character
witness in
a defamation
law suit
rescind the
amount in
question for
favorable glance
with Stormy's
****** this
question of
honesty no
longer applicable
in case.
A mayor on patrol counsel Trump
spiral-whirl Apr 2018
we were playing with our heartstrings on the stage,
stuck together in our personal cage,
hands that entwined with each other,
nails digging into our hearts,
we can put on a show,
that they don't even know that's going on.
The leaves tell stories in the form of footprints
Some separated from themselves
The wind comes at breakneck speed and takes you even farther from what you once were
The wheels of cars don’t break you, they just make you smaller
And when the humans get fed up the large metal hand comes and snatches you away
You were once a playground for the adventurous
The most important things can still be temporary
You forget that this tree’s memory was dead before you even met
Society makes sure dead things aren’t looked at for too long

Well, then why are you looking at me?
Your crunches are haunting my memory
I walked inside my house with your stems in my shirt and shoes covered in dirt
To find another thing I knew as dead
Too many chemicals to the head
But that lady wasn’t stepped on
She wasn’t driven over or thrown
She was lifted up by the girl covered in leaves
Because she had just spent time with the dead
She said it's not bad company but it leaves a bad memory
She didn’t want another one of those

Oh ms believer told its story in the hospital waiting room
The leaves told their stories from inside of my shoes
The  doctor didn’t say **** to the 9 year old looking as innocent as she ever will in her blue puffer coat and no-lace converse, she's thinking about the dead leaves
This 9 year old knew what death was
But only looked at it with peripheral vision behind interlocked fingers
Or looked with a smile as she jumped right inside of it
Its been 8 years,
She now looks death in the mirror
Donna Mar 2018
Today the air fell
through the roads making hopstotch
into bowl of oats

Was then she noticed
the horses in a meadow
Seemed to stand so still

The world had slanted
Yet through her house window a
moustache of a man

one of ancient age
sat and wrote a letter to
his wife in heaven

Tears rolled down his face
As he dabbed his pen into
his tiny ink ***

He climbed through a crack
in the sky and sat on a
floating fluffy cloud

Tis there he saw his
wife plant seeds in a garden
She gave him a smile

She told him she was
happy and he needed to
be happy as well

The horses began
to gallop jumping over
the wire fences

Her window shattered
And his ink dripped into the
deepness of the ground

She woke the next day
And saw a pretty flower
Standing all alone

Lying next to ground
A small white enevelope blew
into the big sky

landing right next to
the flower , she knew then his
loved his wife truly

A few days later
The flower had disappeared
And the clouds had rained

Blue ink coloured the
sky leaving one fluffy cloud
to float aimlessly
Never really know if my stories truly make sense but like playing with words :)
-- Mar 2018
We Titans, with fated breath, our cheer bursting in claps,
in thunder.
And we, whose loud romps, shook the world.
Soda-pop sticky, barefoot, n' green laughs rickety,
We spurred on with cold weighing our fingertips.
We saw the paling pink joys of seashells
leaping, lunging, skidding in surging shallow waves.

We Titans, naked few, have shared this all,
held it in our young palms firmly.
And against the retreating cool of night, we stood.
Laughing as it hurried across the winds,
stirring the sleepy beach town behind,
as both our eyes greedily swallowed the gold,
the light, that chased the milky-blue horizon away.

We Titans, shivering under waves and waving long arms,
like the branches that cradled us when the sun
spilt himself down and baked our cheeks red.
Wore nothing, but the lightening we huffed
and slung around our waists. Our triumph of
bursting might cracked open our little chests and mingled
secrets and giggles, purging the boredom until
only the return of night set us fearful and plain.

We Titans, were the jokers, the rulers,
the paupers and the villains. Gilded trust we wielded
and yielded upon one another. Our bond like a flame
in the dark of our eyes that hid what we feared.
And tender did it flick, twirling across the faces of
monster and friend, as we sipped the dying daylight as youths.

We Titans, though age may pull us far from tumbling seashells,
may rage and call one another from dubious memory.
But our friendship still dances here,
as a destiny set in the soft pale pink trembles of my dreams.
To know friendship as a Titan is to know life through the eyes of a beloved, through the eyes of a kindred soul... and to romp with playful evil delight.
Graff1980 Mar 2018
Where do all the lost boys go?
The rag tag scruffy band
of tiny merry men
playing Robin hood again,

The kings of
flying fancy,
dragons dancing
in the fire lit night,
the little wrathful
waking warriors,

The lonely eyes,
with scraped
and soon to be
scabbed up knees,

The oily skin
and dripping tears
accompanied by
snot that drip drops,

The searchers,
tiny adventurers,
monster hunters,

The little victims,
who follow the whims
of cruel dictators,
of vile violators,
of demon desecrators
on their soft flesh?

When all the madness
seems to pass
and only the stillness
finally lasts,
when they finally
silence the bad,
quieting
the nightmares
they had,

after peering
through
windows,
searching
the artic cold
of winter’s
harsh white snow,
searching for
a safety
they have never
known,

please tell me
cause I don’t know,
where do
the lost boys
go to?
Kim Essary Mar 2018
My children all the world to me  they make my life worthwhile. No matter what they ask me, I'll go that extra mile
I hear them laugh and see them play.
I watch them grow more everyday.
I thank God for the gifts that he's giving me I give him all my grace
For I don't know what I would do if I couldn't see their beautiful face.
I hope and pray that I succeed to raise  My Baby right.
Oh Lord in heaven I pray to thee please shine on me your Golden Light.
Father give me the strength I might need to go on and forgive.
The pain I felt all the tears that I shed so much for forgiveness I have left to give.
I pray unto you my lord to place this all behind me now.
I've got on with my life to you I give my personal vow.
I vow to love and cherish my babies everyday.
I'll pick them up if they may fall and wipe their precious tears away..
Don't rush time it goes by far too fast. Cherish every second of your children because one day you blink your eyes and they will be grown
Jack Bennett Feb 2018
A violin player
In the street
Playing for food
My ice cream melts
Into the cracks
To feed the ants
That conspire below
Daniel Magner Jan 2018
I'm envious of playing cards,
played according to the game,
unashamed for following the rules.
The suites mix seamlessly,
pressed together to make the deck.
When they're drawn up
they're played immediately,
know their fate
when their face meets the light.
Then they lay discarded for awhile,  
before being shuffled up,
and brought back to life.
Daniel Magner 2018
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