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My father always told me to do your best  But what if my best isn't good enough
A good life is a goal I can't reach
Still from your glass houses you still preach
A stable family life and money isn't something you can't teach
You can hide your flaws behind logo jackets and the newest smart phones
I drag mine across this stage because of a shattered  home and  these destructive thoughts that keep me from holding my own
Desinger outerwear and a iPhone six can't heal scar or broken bones
A strong male role model or a caring creator would still leave me to roam
So **** the hypocritical south and **** whistling Dixie
I don't think church or pharmaceuticals can fix me
So **** your dreams of Mayberry and this town I'll never miss
So **** the weight I carry and **** my last childhood wish
I could overcome and get away from all of this.
S G Dec 2014
Mud
I was born in the mud.
All soft and deep and sticky and cool.
I was born where the reeds shot up higher than my head and where everyone knew my name before i opened my eyes.
I was born where cicadas sung me to sleep in the evenin and the chatter from the river talked all night.
I was born where the sunset drew the longest shadows and where nothin smelled sweeter than magnolia trees.
I grew up where you could learn more on the river than at school and where bonfires burned brighter than the sun.
I grew up where the pretty girls had two first names and the boys bought their kisses with stale beer.
I grew up when the river was the only life for us and the screen doors were always slammin.
I grew up where we pretended the winter didn’t exist and where all our mamas worried when we were out.
I grew up in the passenger seat of our pickup trick and with swampwater in my blood.
I grew up where there were more dirt roads than paved and where the man in the suit was the enemy.
I was born with sunlight in my hair and sweat on my skin.
But I died in a fluorescent room all clean and sanitized.
All sharp and cold and hard and white.
Ronald J Chapman Dec 2014
Paint with skates,
Gliding fashion,
Crystalline dull mirror,

"CAUTION" The sign said, "Danger of Slipping."

Hearing the notes from a somber tune.,
Gift to the world, “Arirang."

Her spin cycle gyrating like a porcelain doll's dream.
As she drifts abroad to other shores,
They shiver oh, how they shiver.
Goosebumps she brings!

The Ice Queen!



© 2013 Ronald J Chapman All Rights Reserved.
(Yu-na Kim) montage : Arirang from "D-war" OST)
http://youtu.be/8tcFqApya38

Who is Kim Yuna?
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kim_Yuna
Ronald J Chapman Dec 2014
The Juju-do endures like a dreamy beer,
Never hate a Jespi,
Seas endure like big beaches Loveland,
Love is a cool breeze.

Never pull a haenyo divers  fishing net,
The small girls roughly commands the sea,
The haenyo divers  Mermaids endures like a warm ship,
Desolation, life, and endurance!

Clouds wave!
Why does the highest mountain hide?
Where are the lively grandfather stones?

Adventure, faith, and love,
Unreal, sunny and chocolate candy too.

All mainlands fight rough, misty winds,
Dreamy shore roughly loves the sun.

Adventure, courage, and life!

Jeju Pony 'Hidden Treasure.”

Sails fall like lively Olle walking trails.
Travel roughly like an island reef,
The sunny ship calmly views the trails.
Sunrise from a volcanic crater.

Sunny fields of barley.

The sun waves goodnight, like a sunny gull,
Sun falls!

Courage, dreams and faith,
Oh! The wonders I have seen!
Jeju-do

© 2013 Ronald J Chapman All Rights Reserved.
JEJU ISLAND of South Korea
http://youtu.be/lOrLZ8GAti4
Barkley Layne Nov 2014
An old town that escapes the reality of today. 
I'd trade anything to see it in all of its glory. 
No cell phones, everyone smiling and waving.
Everything peaceful and happy. 
The sun peeking through the pine trees.
Do you hear the mockingbird's song? 
The summers are hot and humid,
the creaks are filled with crawfish,  
The banks filled with frogs and
Us playing cowboys and Indians.
A summer love and
A Mason jar of cold sweet tea. 
"Thank you Mrs. Maybell!" 
We giggle and run to our hiding place near the oak trees.
"Tag your it!" 
We all scurry barefooted through the woods. 
Screams, shouts. 
We forgot how we are still here, 
In the same town over taken by the sounds of silence. 
You may think this story is over; 
The truth is, it’s only just begun. 
"Back when I was a child" 
maybe seem boring to some, 
but if you listen-
You may be surprised how you will want to go back 
to a time when we could play near the creaks
and pay five cents for a coke. 
Life was simpler back then,
Back when; 
This town was small and simple, 
but it was home. 
And always will be.
I wrote this listening to my grandmother tell me stories of her home town, she did not think I was listening... but i am sure glad I was.
Jimmy Herrighty Oct 2014
you were just one man.
jailed for infinity.
you never bent.
stronger than steel.

oppressed from day one.
segregated by your skin.
you were never broken.
stronger than steel.

the odds were against you.
against your entire race.
your faith never wavered.
stronger than steel.

i walked where you laid.
where you eat, where you ran.
your land gave me strength.
stronger than steel.

your love was so unending.
your hate, no where to be found.
you saved a who nation.
stronger than steel.

Madiba. Madiba.
Nelson Mandela
the original superman.
Stronger then Steel.
Tina Marie Oct 2014
It don't take much to make me happy
'Cause I'm from the south
I just need some good soul food
To cram into my mouth

Or I can sit on the creek bank
With my best fishing pole
Casting my line expertly
Into my secret fishing hole

A moonlit hike into the woods
Will soothe my achin' soul
Them city folks don't understand
It's better than silver or gold

When Sunday rolls around it's time
To get myself dressed up
The laying of hands and speaking in tongues
Will come if the Spirit moves us

There's a glamour to the south
Like a work of art that's living
Even the poorest of the poor
Open their hearts and are giving

So call me a redneck or a hick
It doesn't matter to me
I'm proud to be a southern girl
There's no place I'd rather be
Joe Woodhead Oct 2014
“Yorkshire! Yorkshire!” I hear the EDL scream,
as if somehow the county, relates to their regime?
Trying to push on others their far right views,
and tainting Yorkshire with their taboos
cos Yorkshire to me, is whatever the **** I want it to be,

I do love a bit of local pride...
maybe to revel in the comfort it provides,
and even though stereotypes say we're tight,
as well as stubborn, argumentative (they're prolly right),
But I'd rather that, than be uptight,
like a stereotypical southerner might

I recently read a quote from Stuart Maconie,
“England has a bottom half,
but there isn't a south, in the same way there's a north”
The North in the south means desolation,
A cultural wasteland with deserted stations,
a place built on violent, aggressive foundations,
With mid summer Arctic temperature fluctuations,
Nothing that comes close to a nation....

But that's not what I see,
To be from the north means good fish and chips,
with tomato sauce and vinegar, it's glory on the lips,
I see people willing to lend a hand,
A honest chat about the weather as you stand at a bus stop
that you never planned,
It doesn't matter whether it's a cob, bun, bap, barm or roll,
Or that the north was ****** over by the outsourcing of coal,
Or your opinion that we're all just sat on the dole, drinking tea out of a ***** bowl.
We should still all have a similar goal,
To have a good time,
and not hurt a soul

Sometimes I do like to revel in the divide,
but I'll always welcome people from the other side,
Acceptance is not sin,
and if you let it,
it generally ends up with a win : win

What's Yorkshire to you? I haven't got a clue... but come sit down so we can have a chat and a brew! And hopefully we'll both learn something we never knew.
Poem about the North South divide in the United Kingdom.
You broke the umbilical cord attached to this earth . With the south by southwest winds you rode a baleful streak . Like Poncho your life was left untold . Like a desert prayer that's just a whisper in the cold evening air .
Where they laid your body to rest , no one said . Now it's too late .
The virga falls never to quench the thirsty sands . The sorrow is planted as corn in rows of fertile futility . And dust is harvested , dust and tumbleweeds .
Reasons are the excuses we need to answer all the questions why . There is no reason in the south by southwest wind . And the tumbleweeds bend to the sympathy of an incessant desire .
The light from our eyes left
And started burning bridges
Jesus came off the cross
Even heavenly love has a limit
I'm tired of the rat race
And now I just wait for a finish
I know that God has left
Cause we were made in his image.
Heads with crooked smiles, two faces
Rubber necks on high horses led to collisions
A way of love built on a foundation of hate
Hypocrisy is just mental division
It might be a cold sun or four horsemen
But I won't wait here for him to end It.
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