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Alice Is In Wonderland
Alice got sick.
A dulling fur – a cancer here and there.
Don’t know how, don’t know why,
(We never know how, why we’ll die).
Bad and sad for doggies
And for those who hold them dear.
The vet urged she be put to sleep -
It had gone far.
It went in seconds. Not a peep
From Alice, just one beat, a bleep
And she was gone;
A little soul taken in hand
By doggy heaven land, a wondrous land.
Alice is in Wonderland.
Alice Is In Wonderland 3.24.2017
Birth, Death & In Between II; Love Relationships II;
Arlene Corwin
Mar 25, 2017
Mar 25, 2017 at 5:34 AM UTC
I only want to find you,
To kiss your red lips!
If you only could know,
How much my heart misses you!
Maybe you are dreaming about me too?
How can I tell you,
You are my dream, my only love?
Why do we choose,
To search for an impossible love?
Why do I love a beautiful dream?
The loneliness in my heart is the reason,
In our world,
In our Universe,
I will never give up searching for you.
Are you looking for me too?
Copyright © 2016 Ronald J Chapman All Rights Reserved.
Nov 8, 2016
Nov 8, 2016 at 11:51 AM UTC
GOOD MORNING
terrified by His greatest light
waking up is the only option
to cheat in this underrated notion
( sleeping is an underrated action, i reckon )
but have to let go this Divine´s delight
i will soon meet Him in my daily devoir....
© Sylvia Frances Chan
Nov 5, 2016
Nov 5, 2016 at 6:39 AM UTC
Cosmic Coordination
The moment of now can never come again,
Never to be repeated:
A double-sided coin -
Now and not.
To be used, it must be used for what it is –
An irreplaceable
To use up to the hilt;
An instant problem to be solved –
Just then.
A life improvisation.
As for influences,
You don’t need to take them,
You can give from what you are
For you are synchronized with universes -
Yes you are.
And so it is.
Cosmic Coordination 10.30.2016
Nature Of & In Reality;
Arlene Corwin
Oct 29, 2016
Oct 29, 2016 at 4:24 PM UTC
That shortest visit
reaches infinity
miracle so true
never has end in sight
a most difficult task
i do not ask
but begging you
as you've always been
the friendliest, the nicest
like in the old days
when life still had many opportunities
to soar, to fly
peregrination sans limits
to all wind sighs
always think
that ocean glued to the lovely town
is not a small puddle
immensely large and deep,
this great aqua is not to be trusted,
but no need to weep.
Only human beings you wish to cuddle
people in their dust
born on the same ground
and hearts are found
greatest compassion
keeping that knowledge
all at your own
thy existence
as precious as can be
for me
mainly marvelous present memories
drizzling rains
unexpectedly
for you and me
fortunately not painful
nor for you or for me
in my mind and me
the Birthday stay
so sweet, tremendous crackling cozy
due to the efforts thou doth
i say it this way
baby, it was an unforgettable stay
thank you !
© Sylvia Frances Chan
Oct 8, 2016
Oct 8, 2016 at 12:58 PM UTC
"How do you know which one to choose", my granddaughter Emily asked , as we pulled into the parking lot of the shelter. "It will be the first one that gets up to meet us" I said, with a bit of anxiety.
After registering at the desk, we began the walk down the aisle, looking at the occupants of those cages that lined both sides. All of a sudden, about 10 feet in front of us, a grey and black striped leg with a white foot, came protruding out from the front of a cage. The paw began "flexing", as if signaling, "Hey! Over here!"
As I held her, and Emily stroked her forehead, she emanated a very strong, exuberant, vibrating, purr; contented, unafraid, her head tucked into the crook of my arm. We had found my Guardian Angel!
I whispered to her as softly as I knew how:
"We are going home-
I will always keep you safe,
I will never harm you
You will always have shelter, food, and water-
I will keep you warm in the winter........
and cool in the summer.......
You will not 'want', for love."
As I whispered those words, her purr grew stronger, her paw flexing against my arm. For you see, I am convinced that God told her we were coming, and to give us a sign to let us know where she was. It was He, who chose her for us. Some of you may not agree with that, and that's okay. It's important that me and Emily believe it. Regardless of which room I'm in(except the bath), she is there, as she is now, asleep on the foot of the bed as I write. My home isn't empty.... anymore.
copyright: richard riddle-11-11-2015
When my wife, Karen, passed away, the "angel" we had, Scheppes, stayed with me until she was twenty. Brie does not take her place, for she has her own place, and is doing quite well as a "Guardian Angel", in training!
Jul 24, 2016
Jul 24, 2016 at 11:07 AM UTC
the smooth stay hard shape
brings pleasure so deep
vibrating emotions letting me escape
relaxing, soothing, enabling me to sleep
but how I miss that weight on my thighs
skin on skin, irregular motion, then sudden explosion
deep breathes of emotion that is my prize
poor old bob is heading for demotion.
Jun 2, 2016
Jun 2, 2016 at 7:17 AM UTC
The snow was blowing among the trees. In large wet flakes it tumbled down.
My captain turned, as if to speak, but from his lips there came no sound.
A red rose bloomed there on his chest -staining dark the Wehrmacht grey.
I looked in horror as he pitched face forward to the ground.
****** I yelled and ducked for cover. The copse of trees echoed the sound.
Somewhere out there he awaits; the Devil’s son, the cunning foe.
He’s stalked our party for three days yet leaves no footprints in the snow.
I served in France in Forty –one; before these Russians were our foes.
I shiver but it’s not from fear; it’s just that we lack winter clothes.
I motion briskly with my right hand, I think the shooter must be there
my corporal nods and starts to move; perhaps he can outflank this man.
My soul is black for I’ve done some things;
for which I once would have been ashamed.
I saw the Jewess try to shield her babe
as I placed them in a common grave.
This man out there, a warrior; he risks his life upon command.
He is clever, this one, he waits his chance.
Either its him or me that’s dammed.
The drifting snowflakes hide his breath.
But He’s still out there this I know.
My Captain lies still upon the earth
and is slowly covered by the snow.
We are soldiers who risk our lives.
We sacrifice for the Fatherland.
We dream of a woman and a warm bed
Never of Death’s cold clammy hand
My men cry out, the fox is flushed
The ****** has at last been found.
It’s true what they say of the bullet that kills you;
I never even heard the sound.
May 5, 2016
May 5, 2016 at 10:17 PM UTC
I CAN WITHSTAND ANYTHING THAT COMES,
I'VE HAD MY RATION, IF GOD'S DONE HIS SUMS,
ANY KIND OF STORM, POWER CUT OR BLACK,
SOMETIME'S YOU WONDER IF YOU'RE EVER COMING BACK;
I'VE BEEN SNOWBOUND AND WITHOUT ANY KIND OF SOUND,
WHAT'S IT LIKE WHEN YOU'RE DOWN TO YOUR LAST POUND,
SACKED, RETRENCHED, HUMILIATED AND IGNORED,
YOU THINK YOU'VE BEEN FORSAKEN BY MY SWEET LORD,
ONCE I COULDN'T EVEN SEE WHAT WAS IN FRONT OF ME,
HOW STRONG ARE YOU IF YOU LOSE YOUR HOUSE AND FAMILY,
I'M TIRED, CAN'T GO ON ANY MORE IT WOULD SEEM,
YOU LOSE FAITH, RESILIENCE - YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN;
BUT THERE'S ONE THING LEFT - COUNT A BLESSING AS YOU DO,
HOW LUCKY I AM TO HAVE SOMEONE WITH YOUR POINT OF VIEW.
Mar 15, 2016
Mar 15, 2016 at 3:01 PM UTC
After the abandonment
Long nights with no sleep
One is the loneliest number
Never is a very long time
Entrapped
Spelled backwards :
Entrapped
Never is a long time
One is the loneliest number
Long nights with no sleep
After the abandonment
Spelled sideways from the left :
A
L
O
N
E
spelled sideways from the right :
E
N
O
L
A
Any way you spell it , it ***** .
Jan 13, 2016
Jan 13, 2016 at 7:45 PM UTC
In a Green Friar car park
a professor turns the key -
his engine shudders - falls mute.
Leaning classword into the wind,
his footfalls cover the echoes
of the lethal chaos beneath his feet -
masking the curses of proud Richard
struggling to keep his saddle.
Then, in a whirlwind of swords,
the final Rose of Lancaster
falls in slow motion
to the Leichester earth -
merging with the primal dust.
The professor's archaeologists
have arrived for the dig
and Richard's bones begin to stir.
Sep 28, 2015
Sep 28, 2015 at 11:29 AM UTC
the story started with hairline cracks.
cracks that were so fine, thin and insignificant.
let us not sidetrack,
and go straight to how it all happened.
somehow the pressure got to us all
widening the tiny fissures in the wall
slowly the walls started crumbling
and the decorations started tumbling.
the pieces of the walls started to fall off
and each piece that almost hits me
i dodge, dust myself off and cough
it never did hit me that this really could be.
eventually i became enlightened
and my perspective was brightened
suddenly the rug fell through the floor
and i am out the door
plunged into darkness, i ask
since when had the fault lines widened to swallow me up?
into an endless abyss of darkness
unlike that of dusk
Jul 6, 2015
Jul 6, 2015 at 11:30 AM UTC
Allah was his ears
As sounds unlawful, unethical it never heard.
Secrets, gossips and rumours were also barred.
It buzzed with words of Quran day and night
Always Open to sounds just and upright.
Allah was his eyes
As it looked parents, orphans and needy with love
Brimmed with tears thinking of Almighty above
It never despised his brother and from lust it was freed.
Gold and silver had no worth and had no signs of greed.
Allah was his hands
As it stopped things reprehensible with force
In Allah's cause spent abundantly his resource
It caressed the head of an orphan in affection.
Time and again meekly raised it in supplication.
Allah was his feet
As it never moved towards things which Allah hate
Avoided walking arrogantly with a strutting gait
It always ran to help downtrodden, oppressed.
For knowledge for light it was on constant quest.
He had mountains of obligatory good deeds
He had mountains of non-obligatory good deeds
His protector was Allah The Almighty
His enemy was enemy of Allah The Almighty
He was beloved of Allah
He was friend of Allah
He was Wali of Allah
He was Waliullah.
Dec 13, 2014
Dec 13, 2014 at 5:33 PM UTC
Its funny how I got here.
On a streetcar named desire.
Down town I called to Fear
Ingiting the poets fire.
But through the flames,
Called born-again...
The Love I found within;
Called me.
Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 2:02 AM UTC
Mother always says you are your father’s child,
So , since he’s an alcoholic … & a dead beat dad….
Does that change me into something bad …?
At some point in 2004, my father stopped being a father at all.
He stopped calling, stopped trying, and ultimately,
Stopped caring.
Does that mean that I stopped caring too?
The fact that my father's an *** hole
to the highest degree and chose
Drugs and alcohol over his own daughter….
Does that change the fact that I am anything but him.
Does it make a difference that he no longer cares
or tries to have any relationship with me or the fact
He abandoned all responsibilities and therefore lost all of my respect?
I will always be the "father's daughter" I longed for,
yet never achieved.
I'll have my "daddy issues" to talk about in group.
They tried to fix me with a med
That sick pill taste like lead
Perhaps shock therapy instead
he did zap me till I wished I was dead
The fact that my father did nothing but
Beat me
Bruise me
Bleed me
Hurt me
Break me
so Does that change me into something bad …?
Does this change that I was always told that I'd end up just like him?
Does this change the times I longed for his hugs,
Does it change the memories I hold of being held in his drug ridden hands
and the smell of alcohol on his clothes?
Will I ever come to make amends with the man who brought me into
this world just to abandon me in the same world?
Will he ever know how much I hurt?
Does that change me into something bad …?
Will I Ever be someone different from him
Does that change the fact that I am anything but him.
And that I long for everything but Him!
Layal Charara – October 6th 2014
Dec 7, 2014
Dec 7, 2014 at 5:04 AM UTC
I wrangle words
Strangle verbs
Milk them for all they're worth
Nov 28, 2014
Nov 28, 2014 at 12:41 PM UTC