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Create to start day
Relax by midday
Learn by late day
Contemplate to end day
Read when it's not day
Dream it all away
Six steps to happiness!
I'm a teacher for forty three years,
Does that make me an expert dears?
It's a rocket science yet,
Teaching reading to the pets,
Some folk are born to teach,
Educating our students each!
Feedback welcome.
Will you fall in love
With the contents
Of my pages
I'll ask if they want to go to the library with me.
GreenTrees Sep 15
You have a contract with God and you signed on the dotted line.
The fine print was written by the devil in Hellvetica font size nine.
Ah, this is everyday bliss,
Fave author's new book, a kiss!
There are some people like me,
Who read the end first, tee hee!
Then unfold the plot's mystery,
In my book nook for literacy,
Daily reading time is bliss,
Open a new book, do I kiss?
Feedback welcome.
I fetch a card from my deck of a love tarot
that showed me the lovers and I was reckoned
Like a crumpled paper my heart was shrunk
I restored my senses and stimulate my mind
How this has happened in this miserable life?
He is no more with me and there is no love inside
It is the irony of daily reading with the cards
It makes my wish truthful and covers my scars
aviisevil Sep 3
why do men die for other men ?
what compels them to give up their lives for the lives of their fellow men ?

is it love ? is it duty ? or is it just plain madness ? is it that bond of blood ? or a promise to be better ? or is it simply what being a human is ?


the same men capable of destroying a million lives in pursuit of their own ideology ? the same men who for the purpose of their own greed and need can ignore the very definitions of civility and liberty and justice.


can we still call them men ?


what is happening at this hour in this nation, a nation which is thousands of years old and in making; isn't different from what has happened in the past and unfortunately that is going to happen in the unsuspecting future.

people are turning to an ideology that not only imprisons the free bird in the sky, but also retaliates if it so chooses to lay on a different branch.

diversity isn't celebrated anymore, but rather is frowned upon by the masses, who believe that past holds no relevance over the future.

acceptance, and the very creed upon which the great men who came before us, and made us who we are today - their legacy and wisdom is being demolished, like cards in the winds; and just like the structures of the ancient, for they no longer are painted with the colours we are familiar with today.


sheep and wolves alike, are being chased by the blood hounds, cornering every whisper with words of the system, a system that has been diseased from the inside, infecting the very veins of this great nation that has stood the test of age and it's many a poisons for millennia and more.


bit by bit the great walls of knowledge and of the enlightened spirits are being razed down by a mere fool in different costumes, performing in a circus build upon the ashes of the innocent and the innocence of the communities that now long for blood.


the very nature of this great and grave divide, is unnatural, passed down by the same set of hands that once pulled the chains and carried with them - forcefully, a plight of millions, suppressed and then set aside fanatically, all in the name of a devotional creed.

lizards in boxes pretending to be voices of the free and humane, casting their spells on the fragile and a blind audience, numb by all the back and forth between the gods, and as always, only the peasant suffers.


how many more homes must vanish before we realise there's no magic in the disappearing of colours, and the despairing remains of the one's gone, painted across the streets in black and white, begging for somebody to give them their proper funeral.

it is men who take life, animals don't **** for their sins, they never have, for they don't know what it's like to be tamed by fire.

they'd rather burn, than become more like us.

maybe that tells it all, and maybe that is why, the devil may have horns and hoofs, but it never haunts and hunts the wild.


we are what we love, but we become who we hate, always - in the end, until something worse comes around to make things better.
for as long as there'll be men and the quest for freedom - empty pages shall be filled.
Sore knees and an aching back
From a day of laying in bed
Dark clothes covered in hair
From a certain feline friend

Warm eyes and soft smiles
Traded with myself
Flipping damaged pages
Of old books off a shelf

Writing crooked poetry
Reading upside down
Battling the depressing things
Is easier with stories around
I know that the rhymes in this poem are juvenile, but I've honestly had a pretty great day. There is absolutely nothing like reading a good book to combat a depressive episode.
Coyly capsulated,
Peel and pry;
Eager to unravel,
Encouraged to try.
Splitting skin,
Surgically apply;
Enigma extraction,
Sweetly sly.
Artemis Aug 14
your tears are a gurgling stream.
your fingers are twigs and sticks.
your heart is a root covered stone.

Prince of spring,
does life call to you
the way it shrinks from me?

or are you simply the beast
I think you are?
In honor of one of my favorite book series's :)
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