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Big Virge May 2020
So Are You A... Risk TAKER... ?
Or One Who Plays... SAFER... ?

Than Those Whose Flavour …
Prefers … MISBEHAVIOUR... !!?!!
The Reason I Ask Is Because It's QUITE A Task...
To Make Your Mark If Your Thing Is... ART... !!!

One Day In Conversation An Artist Got To STATING...

That.....

"For your art to hit hard and top the charts,
that you've got to take risks, to be a big thing !"

Which I Guess Is True But Think It Through...
Is Risk INTRINSIC... To Being ARTISTIC... ???

I Guess It Is …
When SO MANY USE Gimmicks...
And MANUFACTURED Lyrics …
To Make It In The Bizness'... !!!

The Business of CREATING...
Art That's... Entertaining...

I Guess That's What He's Saying... ?

Art That's … INNOVATING...
May Well INDULGE Risk Taking... ?

But Art That's REAL...
Seems To Be... "Concealed"...

So The Risk To Me Would Seem To Be...
Being An Artist Whose Art Is... FREE... !!!

From Poetry To Comedy …
It's A Risk To Concede To Artistically...
Be A Breed Whose Speech And Artistry …
FITS In Boxes or … “ TV's “...

... Know What I Mean... ?!?

It's An INDUSTRY Where Art COMPETES...
For WHAT... Trophies And BIG MONEY... ?

..... Well That's Just NOT ME..... !!!

But it is RISKY …
To PIN Your Hopes On Artistic Dreams... !!!

Like It Is To BELIEVE …
That SELLING DOPE Ups Periscopes... !!!

... I DON'T THINK SO... !!!

You May Just Sink And Take A HIT...
That ROCKS Your Boat Like CRACK Or Coc'... !!!!!

It's A Risk To TAKE HARD DRUGS You Know... !!!!!
I Mean CLASS A Cos' Most CAN'T Cope...
When It Comes To ADDICTIONS...
That Lead To... "MENTAL PRISONS"... !!!

Apparitions And Prescriptions …
That LIMIT Bigger Visions...
Because of Preconditions …
Positioned Next to VILLAINS.... !!!!!

So... Talking of POSITIONS...
What About These Women... ?!?
With Heads That BOB Like Chickens... !?!?!
They AREN'T ALL... " Finger Lickin' "... !!!!!

In FACT These Days I'm Thinking........
That Condoms Should Be... THICKENED... !!!!!!

Cos' ***** Holes Be STINKIN'... !!!!!!!
of RISKS That Have *****... SHRInkin'... !!!!!!!

It's A Risk To Link With THESE HOT Chicks...
Who Now FRY GUYS Who Think They're Wise...

UNTIL What Rests …
BETWEEN Their Thighs Brings TEARS To Eyes... !!!

Because of *** With A Hole That RIDES...
MORE Than Bikers... RIDE Their Bikes... !!!!!!

But Ladies It's A RISK For You... !!!
To MESS With Dudes Whose Vibe Is Cool...
Has Got NICE SUITS And Money TOO... !!!!!!

.......... DON'T Be Fooled.........
ALL That GLITTERS DIGS OUT Holes...
Just Like THOSE Who DIG For Gold... !!!!!

Ya' See RISKS Are HERE...
And RISKS Are... THERE... !!!!!

So Are You Prepared To RISK Truth or Dare... ?!?
I'd Rather RISK TRUTH Than LIE To PROVE...
I Can Walk Amongst SNAKES To Make My Way... !?!

The Game Nowadays Is...
FAR FROM............................... ............ Fair...... !!!!!
And RISKS DON'T CARE Like Medusas... STARE... !!!!

RISKS Are... " Stone Cold "...
With NO BREWSKIS Yo... !!!!!!!

It's A RISK To Drink And Drink TOO MUCH... !!!
Like It Is To Do Stuff That'll Get You CUFFED... !!!

Because Cops SPILL BLOOD...
And LIKE To PULL GUNS...

So... WATCH YOURSELF Son... !!!!!!!!!

DON'T PLAY That You're TOUGH …
… UNLESS You ARE... !!!!
Cos' Police MARK Cars …
Like Dealers DO CARDS... !!!!

It's A Risk To Gamble...
If You CAN'T HANDLE That BIG LOSS... !!!

Because Like James said...

"You have to pay the cost, to be the boss !"...

And On That Note...

I'll RISK One LAST Quote... !!!
It's A RISK To VOTE For POLITICAL Folks... !!!!!

As It Is To... EVOKE...
That Risks Are THE WAY For A Person To GO... !?!

When It Comes To Lyrics And Scripts I FLIP...
I STICK To THIS NO Gimmicks or TRICKS...
Or... Trying To Be SLICK... !!!!!

My CREATIVE Vibes And Dealings In Life...
DON'T Deal In Cosmetics …
Because They're AUTHENTIC... !!!

Which LIMITS THIS...
A NEED To STICK To Doing Things...

That Make Me INDULGE In TAKING...

........ " RISKS "........
I suggest you think, before you take one !
THE ADVENURES OF GEORGE BURNINGTOM




YOU SEE IN THE DARK CORNERS OF A COUNTRY TOWN NAMED DUBBO, IN NEW SOUTH WALES

LIVED A GANG OF 13 YEAR OLD BOYS, WHO WERE ADRENALINE JUNKIES, YOU SEE TAKING RISKS

WERE THE MAIN PARTS OF THEIR LIFE, ONE OF THE BOYS GEORGE BURNINGTOM, WHO LIVED IN

A REALLY RICH HOUSE, IN THE RICH CORNER OF DUBBO, HATED HIS FAMILY SO MUCH, THESE

MATES OF HIS WERE MUCH BETTER, YA SEE, THE RING LEADER OF THE GANG WHO WAS HARRY SMITH

WHO WAS IN A VERY POOR FAMILY, YOU SEE HIS FATHER WORKED AS A CLEANER AT DUBBO ZOO

AND HARRY, HAD ALL THESE GET RICH SCHEMES, WHICH INVOLVED TAKING HEAPS  OF BREATHTAKING RISKS,

ONE THING THE BOYS WILL DO IS HEAD TO THE SKATE PARK TO RIDE UP ONE WALL AND OCCASSIONALLY WOULD SKATE DOWN

THE STAIRS, SOMETIMES SCARING THE OLD PEOPLE AS THEY PASSED BY THE STAIRS, GEORGE, WHO WAS INTO

SOAKING IN A BIT OF ADRENALINE, BUT JUMPING HIS SKATEBOARD, FROM THE FOOTPATH TO THE MIDDLE ISLAND

IN THE SWAMPY WATERS, MIND YOU, GEORGE FELL IN A FEW TIMES, AS HE TRIED THIS, AND SKINNED HIS LEGS

WHICH MADE GEORGE WANNA CRY, BUT HE WAS THINKING, BOYS DON’T CRY, BOYS DON’T CRY, AND THEN THE

OTHER KIDS RAN UP TO HIM AND SAID, YOU LOOK VERY HURT, BUT YOU ARE NOT A DISGRACE TO OUR GANG, IN FACT

YOUR PRETTY COOL.

THE BOYS WENT BACK TO THE SKATE PARK, AND DID A FEW TRICKS AND JUMPED UP ON THEIR BOARD A FEW TIMES

AND GEORGE FELL, HEAD OVER TURKEY, BUT LANDED ON HIS FEET, AND THEN THE BOYS SAW A SEMI TRAILER, AND GEORGE

SAID, LET’S RACE THISB TRUCK, AND THE OTHER BOYS SAID WE COULD DIE, IT’LL BE A TAD RISKY, AND GEORGE, OUR LIVES ARE

RISKY, YOU COULD SAY WE HAVE A RISKY LIFE, AND AFTER SAYING THAT, THE BOYS FOUGHT THEIR DELLUSIONAL THOUGHTS OF DANGER

AND RACED THIS TRUCK, AND THEY WERE ENJOYING RACING THE TRUCK, THE TRUCK DRIVER LOOKED THROUGH HIS WINDSHIELD

AND SAID, THESE KIDS ARE TOO CLOSE, AND THEN SAID, I HAVE TO TAKE AN EMERGENCY STOP, TO LET THESE KIDS PAST, SO HE DID

AND FOUND OUT WHAT THE KIDS WERE DOING SAYING, YOU KIDS DON’T UNDERSTAND THE ROAD RULES, AND THEN YELLED OUT

YEAH GO, YEAH GO, LIKE THE COWARDS THAT YOU ARE, AND THE KIDS RODE BACK, AND SAW THE DRAINS AND HARRY SAID LET’S RIDE

IN THESE DRAINS, AQND THEY WERE ENJOYING PLAYING IN THESE DRAINS, AND THEN THE PASSER BY, CAME UP AND SAID, LISTEN YOU KIDS

THESE DRAINS ARE VERY DANGEROUS, GEORGE SAID, WE ARE RISK TAKERS AND ADRENALINE JUNKIES SO TO SPEAK, AND THE MAN SAID

WHY DON’T YOU BOYS  GO ON HELICOPTER RIDES LIKE THE OTHER KIDS OF DUBBO, LIKE MY SON AND THEN GEORGE SAID, YEAH YOUR SON

WHO IS THE BIGGEST GEEK OF THIS COUNTRY TOWN, WHO CAN’T STAND ADRENALINE, IF HIS LIFE DEPENDED ON IT.

THEN AFTER THE MAN LEFT, THE GANG KEPT PLAYING IN THE DRAINS AND DESPITE ALL THE ***** LOOKS  THE PASSERBYS HAVE BEEN GIVING TO THEM

THE BOYS STILL PLAYED IN THE DRAINS WITH THEIR BOARDS, AND THEN AFTER THE BOYS WERE SICK OF THE DRAINS, THEY RODE THEIR SKATEBOARDS

OVER TO THE CORNER STORE, SO THEY CAN PLAY THE PINBALL MACHINE, BUT THE BIG BULLY MARKO BRIDGETOWN WAS THERE, AND THE ONLY WAY

TO HAVE A TURN ON THE PINBALL MACHINE, THE KIDS HAD TO BUY THE BULLY SOME GRUB, LIKE FISH AND CHIPS OR SUMMIT, BUT GEORGE SAID

WE HAVE BEEN TAKING RISKS ALL DAY, HOW ABOUT WE TAKE ANOTHER RISK AND STAND UP TO THIS BULLY, BUT THE OTHER KIDS INCLUDING HARRY SAID

THIS DUDE IS GOING TO BE ANGRY WITH US, BUT GEORGE SAID NO, WE DON’T HAVE TO BUY THIS BLOKE A MEAL, AND THEN SAID, I AM NOT GETTING BULLIED

BY SOME LOSER ON THE STREET, AND THEN GEORGE TOOK A RISK, BY KARATE KICKING THE BULLY, AND MIND YOU, GEORGE REALLY PUT THE BULLY IN HIS PLACE,

MIND YOU HE GOT A BIT TATTERED, BUT THIS WAS A RISK GEORGE IS WILLING TO TAKE, YOU SEE NOBODY IS MAKING FUN OF GEORGE BURNINGTOM AND GETS AWAY WITH IT.

DESPITE ALL THE KIDS THINKING IT WAS A RISK, THEY ADMIRED GEORGE’S BRAVERY, AND RODE THEIR SKATE BOARDS DOWN THE ROAD OF DUBBO, AND AFTER A

ADRENALINE DAY OF TAKING RISKS, EACH KID WENT HOME, TO WATCH A BIT OF TELEVISION AND THEN GO TO BED, AND TOMORROW, WELL, ARE THERE MORE RISKS

TOMORROW, I DON’T KNOW, TODAY WAS A RISKY PART OF THEIR LIFE.
Holly Jones Oct 2013
They say life is about risks and I think I am finally beginning to understand and comprehend what they meant. My risks that I would take are not considered abnormal or even to be risks at all.

But falling asleep at 4pm not knowing when I will wake, is a risk to me.
Deciding whether to reach over and hold your hand or not, is a risk to me.
The decision on whether I should go to lessons or stay home, is a risk to me.

These aren’t the risks sometimes dares you to do in a ploy of childish antics.
These aren’t the risks your mother told you about when you were sixteen.
These aren’t the risks your health teachers handed out pamphlets about in their free time.

No.
They are far more personal, intimate.

I question myself frequently about these risks. Should I take them or shall I venture back inside my skin, allowing my bones to be the gates. Locked from the outer world where feelings aren’t shared and rumors are spread. Where a glance can mean so much more then wandering eyes. When children become monsters and things they swore they would never evolve too.

I won’t take these risks because I am afraid.
Afraid of all the possibilities.
Robin Carretti Aug 2018
We are not on a schedule
But we are working
Ivory skills of mastery hard
We can not afford to lose
The Elephants hearts diary
The Zen of topiary
      Details
  The good luck

The hard worker making
True buck the husk of fruit seed
The Peking God of duck
Superman of gifts of steel
The movie superstitious eyes
Everyday good earth cries
Elephant Trunk
Bring on the Holiday
The tuxedo the Elephant Tusk
Godly task the top rank

Anomalous

Questioning the situation not
so delicious
Sensual so moving vivacious
The comedy of errors
Ridiculous to the sublime

The compromising position
Waiting for the next
      "Crime"
Mens of romance
Holiday the gracious gray
Taking risks

*Gallivanting never separating love
Of the tusk, life holds too many risks

Smiles and baking
more loving
The harder you mix
    Wonderful Ivory
   An elephant is a true
   ingredient
Holding the whisk over creamed
Looking high up the
white feathers
Like a beauty, I have never seen

She loves to pick his holiday
Elephants circles the tie he's
her dream
There is no truth when its a holiday
when people
Laugh between there lies

Start running toward
Elephant Tusk
Moms homemade apple caramel
pecan pies
Conflicts subjects
to paint talk to the "Elephants"
With the dreamy ivory tusk

The fragrance of Ireland
Spicy Greens musk
King hand card player tough skin
*Holiday Queen got numbered in
The men million stars of
musk saved the day it flew in

You make me feel brand new
I never made a mistake
Never one that I couldn't explain
Running towards or afterward
Those love words
Before the Gods
The veal chops
Emperor of emails
The Cops and robbers

So modest and shy with demure 
 Holiday spirit world of hands galore
What allure dreamy contentment
She got holiday advancement

The contrast between
Holiday family love the honesty
but our government magical
mystery all bribery
Go for the tour just pour
your words
Quite a mystery white baking
flour messy
Moon and the Star handkerchief style
dressy

The Astronomy we need
to build a better
Here and the now
Wondering how?

Deep brown hazelnut
coffee royal bow
Seeing through the
Gray starting to pray
The parade of the Elephant
The day we can trust
This isn't a Fay Ray
not my kind
of town
The holiday comes and goes
too quick
There you are Rick and
his cousins
It felt like a holiday of
*Tombstones
The gathering with the finest
rhinestones

More sound of silence
Please no I phones
Shut them off enjoy the
Elephants tusk and
their home turf
Not the bluest sea
Make it the lovely
    (Earl Gray)
Bringing surf and turf
More conflicts those predictions
More spiritual afflictions

Just find your peace within
His Elephant pants win
You got the whole tusk
in your hand
"Snow White Huntsman"
Affection like a
housewarming
My holiday transformation

Neon Lion light of crystal ball
The spiritual Tree elephant
Touched a part of me the art
All the fine elements bring
us closer, not the copy
of an imposter

Something to smile about
The myriad
The full length of the camera
The Elephants has a heart
no drama
Flying so Ivory gown sheer
Moms roast will not
come next year
Red devil computer
Telling me there are
Ghostbusters and
travel gliders
I am the true
Elephant lover
More homestayers
music players

Men looking astronomically
Feeling silly
in their whiskers
The world is horrifying
But there is no denying
more praying
Her heart is very thick
Elephant skin close to her
heart is luck
What is happening
to our economy
The sad thing people are selling
Elephant's
Tusk for money we need
to stop this

Lucky Elephant tusk is
turning to good luck
We pray for the world
Holy bless
The holiday Spirit there is no Scrooge here this was done differently do you love Elephant husk please save them they are beautiful and good luck this cruel world is selling them we need to stop this
Tuffy Mutombo Dec 2017
Crossing roads with no stop signs
Even danger fears me
Love scares me
Risks bore me
Love confessed to be my enemy
For many years it fought me
Till it won me and now it abuses every part of me
I gave it hope but it’s still wants more from me
With every piece of my being it forces me to be vulnerable, show emotions that are relatable
So now every time I say “I love you” I take risks not knowing if that will be the first or last time I say that to you
It was risks that got me this far
It will be risks that will expose my hearts scars
That's what it's about
With BPD
The risks you take
And stupidity

The anxiety,
And unwelcome mentality
That's what it's about
With BPD

Three shots of whiskey
And a glass of wine
Throw back a couple pills
I'm sure I'll be fine.

That's what it's about
With BPD
The risks, stupidity,
And anxiety.
I pick up the skirt,
I pick up the sparkling beads
in black,
this thing that moved once
around flesh,
and I call God a liar,
I say anything that moved
like that
or knew
my name
could never die
in the common verity of dying,
and I pick
up her lovely
dress,
all her loveliness gone,
and I speak to all the gods,
Jewish gods, Christ-gods,
chips of blinking things,
idols, pills, bread,
fathoms, risks,
knowledgeable surrender,
rats in the gravy of 2 gone quite mad
without a chance,
hummingbird knowledge, hummingbird chance,
I lean upon this,
I lean on all of this
and I know:
her dress upon my arm:
but
they will not
give her back to me.
S Nov 2015
Taking risks,
What a dangerous game

You could lose it all,
Or take home everything

One false move,
To lose your life savings

Or to unlock a brighter light inside the world
And to live with complete freedom and without fear

Taking risks,
Is it worth it?

Is it better to try and fail,
And lose it all

Or not to try at all,
And stay on the path where you started?
Dorothy A Jan 2017
No Risks?
No problem!

Less embarrassment
Less troubles and headaches
Less pain

So no risks?
No problem?

What about achievement and success?
What about regrets of "almost, but didn't"?
What about settling for less than what is possible?

Yeah, risk is risky. It could invoke ridicule and scorn, rejection and slammed doors. It would be easier to play it safe. To risk is to be vulnerable and open to a world of hurt. Ultimately, it could involve danger and be life threatening.

Yet the world has been shaped by risks...technology, medicine, the arts, relationships and friendships, creating a family, alliances, acts of forgiveness, rescuing someone from certain death,  people being born...

When you put it that way risk is a pretty noble attribute and a value to esteem
Megan Jan 2014
i look for you in the morning
wednesdays, as i have said in the past
are my least favourites.
and it may be because i don't see you.
so i pose another question
then do i hate saturdays sand sundays
too?
maybe.
but i've caught myself dreaming of you
and even more so thinking of you
so on wednesdays
i take risks to see you
because that's the problem with them
you are here
but i don't get to see you.
at least on saturdays and sundays you are farther away
not that i like that any better
so on wednesdays,
i take risks for you
Simon Oct 2019
Probability isn’t the luck it deserves for wanting desperately to be noticed by any appeals. Generating new focuses never thought possible. If so… Who is the recipient? Who is the lawmaker? Who being the justice department? Goods to making essential markers on productive velocities. Justification is outweighed by department alone. Growing ever scarcer without benefiting attitudes in place. Conjecturing solvent pleasures across many fields. Fields of accessory dependents ensuring a collective term is agreeable. Except, what if probability is outweighed not by something further from its own attitude? What if it can’t benefit itself? In question, becoming misshaped, mispronounced, or misinterpreted. Depending on who’s right, or who’s wrong shouldn’t matter until claims are assured. Propagating across the many fields of accessory dependents. Dependents outweighing the logic one is misshaped by. Demonstrating probabilities mispronouncing sense of terms for oneself. Wrapping up in a crumbled conjecture. Propagating a newer field of already surveyed products. Truth is in the stream that propagates those fields. Accessory moments dependent on gaining tension through the rise of the recipient. That’s the only way probability will ever learn. Hence why it shuts down if it ever involved itself. Itself without its own recipient. Its own justice department. Lawmaker without any dependent ideas would ever appeal to its own logical making, if it’s never dependent on itself. Only flashing the accessory dependent on other influences. Influences going way down the line of certainties without pleasure. Urges relapse. Furthering its own clustered rut! One without mistakes diverging deeper into uncertainties. Taking risks isn’t noticeable. When probability taking risks enough to (blush) down the line of certainties without an aim involved. Scattering their rut from within. But how does it involve probability? It doesn’t. Probability is the representation of how one constant judge itself for pleasure. When pleasurable actions are dependent with a blank impression never sought out. To focused on probability. When probability isn’t fruitful by its own design either. Only way it works. Never looking back in itself. A reflection of tempted attitudes fluttering in a swift, but rigid wind. Wind never tempted by its own sway. If one is to admit what they aren’t even aware of changing. Another shutdown happens! Justifications for probabilities own reckoning depends on other solvents. Solvents who don’t even understand the probabilities of there own life makings. Able to learn what is dependent onto others. Never within themselves directing their starry performance. What happens when things are finally noticeable within probabilities that will exceed probable actions of the force that dictates fates majority complexes? Complexes without variety. Varieties misshaped by mishappenings of trust. Which includes a basic awareness of some factor never hesitating to judge within the core of being itself. A view fate designs in its weapon of probability very well. What is fate up to…? Never can guess when probability shuts down all appliances out of contact with no one but itself left in the dark. Probability is. Everything has just become disowned. Fate exchanging glances with itself for one last second, before rapping up this little diverse expression. Pinpointing its weapon of probability without knowing why that is? Hinting at fate not being the only recipient to follow in its weapons obstructed desires.
Probability without luck is forever undetermined. Having faith in itself, will redeem the actuality of actions placed without words. Luck? Faith? Lots of hints one hasn't fully realized.
Zack Ripley May 2021
I would be lying
If I said I wasn't afraid of failing.
But I'm more afraid of succeeding.
There's so much more pressure.
You have more to lose.
Your actions have more consequences.
You have to think more carefully
Before you choose.
But sometimes, you have to take risks.
You just have to decide
If it's worth the extra stress.
Yuke Gnehz Dec 2013
Some days, it feels like the only thing I need in life is a cellphone.

With a cellphone, I can spend my time flinging birds into pigs,
Slicing fruit, and collecting coins,
Never stopping until I get the high score.

I can swipe, poke, drag my finger
Across a screen of light,
Letting the thrill of technology override my soul.

With a cellphone, I can write lol a million times,
Without a single chuckle escaping from my lips,

And mask my life with a fake profile,
And an artificial smile,
And a status update every once in a while,
To show the World Wide Web my embellished life style.

With a cellphone, I don’t need to stop and smell the roses,
When there’s an app for that.
Why would I lay back and watch the vibrant colors of the sunset,
When it can be downloaded off the Internet?

Why would anyone bother to take risks,
To laugh with friends,
To cry alone,
To feel alive…

When there’s a cellphone in your back pocket?
Zywa May 2021
If you don't take risks,

you put everything at stake:


you risk all your life.
“Fear of flying” (1973, Erica Jong)

Collection "Shelter"
There's just one goal I want to meet
But what I always see is defeat
In order to be a champion
We must have cooperation and determination
All I ever hear is neglect and regret
but I must put on a big bet
Got to endure the risks
and hope for the best
To you, I shall leave the rest
Melanie Dunn Sep 2010
In reality everyone judges.
So caught up in their name brands.
Whether or not we hold our grudges,
Labels are for soup cans.

We assume that everyone we meet fits a certain frame,
It's easier to do this, so that we will understand.
But once you get to know someone, your first impressions' put to shame.
Because labels are for soup cans.

Smart kids are nerdy and will never be intimate.
Popular kids are jocks and girls with fake tans.
Then there's the rebels who take risks and think nothing of it.
But labels are for soup cans.

In reality everyone judges,
But again, labels are for soup cans.
This was just a silly villanelle.
Brent Oct 2017
Limutin na ang mundo
Forget the world
And its intricacies
Your abusive father
Your good-for-nothing frenemies
Let go of the earth
Reach for the uncertainties


Nang magkasama tayo
I'll be here holding your hand
Reading your fears
In the lines of your palm
While feeling your taken risks
In the spirals of your fingertips


Sunod sa bawat galaw
Let me take the lead
Follow my steps
As we waltz off
From our consciousness
to the chains of the world


Hindi na maliligaw
We'll never be lost
When all miseries will be unknown
Or at least, we'll be lost
In all that is ours


Mundo'y magiging ikaw
*You will be my world
And I hope I'll be yours too
A poem based from the lyrncs of "Mundo" by IV Of Spades. They're a great indie OPM band, if you're not familiar. Check them out!
DJ Thomas Dec 2010

Bride of the desert
the indomitable town
Solomon’s Kingdom

            
Lost in history, I wander through a city that was fortified by King Solomon, raided by Mark Antony and ruled by Queen Zenobia who made it the capital of an empire, only to be captured herself and paraded through Rome in gold chains.

Civilisation upon civilisation are entombed within Tadmur; in a huge plain of carved stone blocks, massive columns arched in rows or standing alone, a Romanesque theatre, senate and baths, dominated by a great temple whose origin dates back four thousand years.

Due to a clever mistranslation from Arabic by the euro-centric traveller who ‘discovered’ Palmyra, the city also has a modern name.

Here for millennia, a tribe of Bedu have camped within the folds of these desert steppes and blackened Tadmur’s ruins with their camp fires, to trade camels or herd goats and sheep. Walking the divide between city, desert and the more fertile steppes, I search for their surviving descendants and find a black woven goat’s hair tent with its edges raised to capture a cooling breeze.

Hamed and his sons, huge and wary of foreigners, welcome me to sit within on  carpets and then graciously serve dates with innumerable small glasses of tea. I indicate ‘enough’ in the traditional manner by rolling my right hand and the empty glass. Hamed continues to voice his concerns about the lack of feed for their sheep and the prices achieved at market. I readily succumb to several small cups of greenish Arabic coffee, before being allowed to take my leave.

For millennia the wealth of this city was based on tariffs levied on goods flowing out of the desert aboard swaying camel caravans. Today, these once proudly fierce tribal Bedu no longer breed, train or ride camels.

The Bedu greatly prize their reputation and the respect of their peers. Their traditions are the foundation of these small tribal communities and may predate Islam;  a life now undermined by borders, nationalism, government settlement plans, conscription, war, television and tourism.
                                         *+     +     +      +      +

Black torn empty shells
swept by Mount Lebanon’s shade
Cannabis Valley

As I recall a haiku of ‘images’ of  my very first journey to Damascus, from war-torn Beirut through the lushness of the Bekaa;

in the here and now
a dark suit and Mercedes
cross the Euphrates

Defence Minister, Rifaat al-Assad is in town with his fifty thousand strong Defence Companies, complete with tanks, planes and helicopters.  A coup d’état is in progress to assure Rifaat’s succession to the Presidency of his older brother Hafiz al-Assad, now recovering from a heart attack.

Last year, Rifaat massacred some forty thousand Syrian citizens when he ordered the shelling of the city of Hama. Nobody in Damascus will be underestimating him.

All political and military power is in the hands of the al-Assads and key generals, who command the military and police. The majority of whom are of the Alawite minority Muslim faith from the rural districts near Latakia in the North. Before their revolution, governments came and went in weeks.

My friend Elias is allied to Rifaat’s cause, by simply doing business with the son. Now he and his family share the risks and dangers of this coup failing and stand to lose a fortune. Monies paid locally in Syrian pounds for goods delivered to government agencies.

Elias’s connection with Rifaat and Latakia, as well as his confident presence, humour and love of life, still allows us easy access to the Generals’ Club. Sadly, there is to be no table and floorshow, but a closed meeting with two senior Generals, where we learn that Hafiz has recovered enough to take charge and is now locked in discussions with his younger brother.

The decision is therefore made for us. We say our goodbyes and drive to Latakia.

On Sunday Elias meets his brothers, then with his family, we visit his parents small holding and enjoy a meal together. A wonderful fresh mezza that includes my favourite, courgettes stuffed with ground lamb and rice, in a yogurt sauce. Syrian food is amazingly healthy and my cuisine of choice.

It is a cloudless Monday morning, as I, Elias, his wife and children drive into the docks to board an old 46 foot motor cruiser. Huge cases are stowed as I make my inspection, then start the twin diesels and switch on the over-the-horizon radar. Our early departure is critical. We cast off and the Mate steers for the harbour entrance below the cliffs that guard it. As the Mediterranean lifts our bow in greeting, the disembodied voice of the Harbour Master tells us to return as we do not have permission to sail.

Ignoring the order, I increase our speed through the short choppy surf. We are sailing under the Greek Cypriot flag and in an hour I hope to be out of territorial waters.  At 14 knots we are a slow target.

Fifteen nautical miles from the coast of Syria, I leave the mate to follow a bearing for Larnaca. Elias has opened a bottle of Black Label. I quaff a glassful.

Later noticing a noisy vibration and diagnosing a bent prop shaft, I shut down the starboard engine. Our speed is now a steady 8 knots, so I decide on a new heading to discern more quickly the shadow of the Cypriot coastline on the radar screen.

Midway, the mate and Elias begin babbling about a small vessel ahead and four separate armoured boxes encircling it. Ugly Israeli high speed gun boats or worse, Lebanese pirates. Should they board us and find stowed riches, we will be killed.

Leaving the Mate to maintain our course, I go on deck to play the ‘European Owner’.  The vessel they have trapped is long and lean with three tall outboard motors but no crew are in sight.  Leaving them astern, our choice of vessel now fully exonerated, I and Elias throw another whisky ‘down the hatch’.

With us holding the correct bearing, I ask Elias to wake me as soon as we near Cyprus. Feeling utterly exhausted I collapse into a bunk.  

I wake unbidden, to find the Mate steering for the harbour entrance. Shouldering him aside, I spin the wheel to bring the vessel about. Shaking, I ask them why there are minarets on the ‘church’ and did they not notice our being observed from the top of the harbour's hillock, below which a fast patrol boat is anchored?  The Mate sprints to the Greek Cypriot flag and is hugging it to his chest; Elias wisely prays.

I command the wheel as we motor directly away from the port of Famagusta and Turkish held Northern Cyprus. We later change bearing and pass tourist beaches, it is night fall before we moor-up in Larnaca.
                                         +     +     +      +      +


Later that same year I am called to a last urgent meeting in Cyprus with Elias. He calmly tells me that he will be arrested when he rejoins his family, who have returned to Syria. Elias asks me to take full control of his Cypriot Businesses, then returns home and ‘disappears’ with his brothers.
                                         +     +     +      +      +


Since sacking the two Arab General Managers when they tried to get control of the bank accounts, it has taken more than six months to locate the prison holding all the brothers. We obtain the release of all except Elias, who has been tortured.  We then ‘purchase’ him the exclusive use of the Prison Governor's quarters and twenty four hour access for Elias’s family, nurses and doctors.
                                         +     +     +      +      +


Over the last two years, I have honoured my promises and expanded trade as far as Pakistan. Elias is still imprisoned.
                                         *
+     +     +      +      +
haibun of a late twentieth century travelogue
copyright©DJThomas@inbox.com 2010
Danielle Shorr Oct 2014
I will regret this in the morning
but I will do it anyway
my impulsivity often overpowers my conscience
yet I am almost always fully aware
of the decisions I make
and their consequences
I am not exactly mentally stable
but I am sane enough
to know right from wrong
yesterday from today
love from lust
although sometimes I mix them up
I have a tendency to lunge at any pair of arms that open for me
my mind and body often disagree
my body saying yes to eager hands
my mind saying no
constantly looking towards my heart
thinking how stupid one must be
to fall repeatedly
get hurt every single time
and still manage to do the same
over
and over
again
I wonder
how many times I will have to hit the ground
in order to learn to stop falling face first?
I often say things
that should be left unsaid
I often do things
that should not be done
sleep in beds unfamiliar
make believe love to strangers
get to know people who will not remember me tomorrow
I am gone as quickly as the hangover
I can be washed off the tongue
just as quickly as the liquor
I often believe I am capable of inciting change
I kiss temporary lips with permanence
hoping that I can train them to stay
I love temporary people with permanence
hoping that I can train them not to leave
and when they do
I claim to have seen it coming
I am incapable of forgetting
a scrapbook memory of skin and heartbeat
of touch and moments
I know not to look directly into eyes
for they can be blinding
and I still
do it anyway
I know of the risks that shouldn't be taken
well aware of their consequences
and I still
take them anyway
you could say
it is my own fault
for the way that things continue to turn out
but I can make no promise of apology
instead
I will live momentarily
**** up intentionally
love recklessly
fall unguarded
break enough times to learn how to put myself back together
crash into concrete enough times to learn how to shift a crooked smile
into something worth seeing
I have been told that a life lived in fear
is hardly a life lived at all
so I intend to live every second
like it is the last one I will have
I will write each night as it happens
narrate my own stories
and hope they turn out okay
I will regret this in the morning
but I will do it anyway.
NitaAnn Aug 2013
Really? Well, don’t be, because it doesn’t help to be sorry. Sorry doesn’t change it. Sorry doesn’t make it go away. Sorry doesn’t “undo” what’s already been done. Sorry doesn’t erase my memory. Sorry doesn’t take away the searing pain in my chest. Sorry *****! I don't want your pity or to hear that no child should ever have to endure what I did. Because **** happens. It happened to me …it happens to millions of other kids. Shoulda…woulda…coulda…

You’re right – I do have so much going for me. I have an education, a career, financial security – the beautiful house w/the picket fence, the 2 kids and the dogs. And it’s all a huge sham! You can take the girl out of the trailer park, but you can’t take the trailer park out of the girl. And that’s what I’m to be commended for??? That doesn’t make me special. I should be commended because I have an education? Things could sure be a lot worse, huh? I could be a crack ***** living on the street with 10 kids in foster care, unable to afford therapy even if I wanted to go. I could be like “them”.

Wow! I’m so awesome. Yay for me! Kudos to the smart chick that spent years being molested by her father and ACTUALLY made something of her life. It’s a miracle!

It’s all such a sham – a dog and pony show. Smoke and Mirrors, my dear! Put on a stylish outfit, and  paste on a cheerful smile, and everyone thinks you have it all together….. No one would ever know different. You wouldn’t have known. If I’d have kept my big fat mouth shut!!!!! I should have known better….I should have sat down and weighed the risks, possible opportunities, the roadblocks the problems, and definitely a cost analysis of plan A – trying to work through the ******* of the past, B – continue to live in denial, C – **** myself. …. That’s what a smart business woman would have done. And after all, I’m super smart, huh? A real genius!
onlylovepoetry Dec 2019
An Optimist’s Guide to Falling in Love With a Woman


have a very minor fender ******, you’ll never get a persons digits any easier, consider it a bonus first date, a stress test interview, when humans on their worst/best behavior, their true nature revealed and tough exteriors melt when gallantly take full responsibility, details to be discussed over dinner

risks: she’ll  will never ever let you drive her, even after, no...never ever after, the issue is closed, ‘twas your fault and is non-discussable

critique her order standing behind her at McDonald’s. blowback assured! charm resistance and openness will be tested, but you claim pure concern for her well being, even after offering to pay  a dollar for every calorie ingested if she only switches to a plant-based burger

risks: hamburger grease soul staining, no love stain stick remover handy and everybody knows mixed marriages really never work tween bronco busting cowgirls and city tree huggers

you take a spill, nose in the phone crossing street, she lifts you up with wonder woman strength and gentility, you sputter with half-feigned indignation for you’ve embarrassedly first sight-fallen in love, all your words and everything else is failing and flailing as she tends to the cut, drives you to her office where she stitches you up, while cracking jokes that are truly funny

risks: she is a Dallas Cowboy fan, or worse, someone else got there first, and you need life long therapy

she’s in seat 10C, Miami to NYC, pretending very poorly to not be reading this very story-poem you’re creating, but doing so VERY poorly because she is editing, making suggestions, punching you in the arm excitedly, asking if you want to share a cab home, for she reveals that she too, secretly dips the quill in ink and needs an expert opinion, yours for sure since you’re SO good looking too!

risks: the weather diverts the plane to Baltimore where you live together happily after-ever, cause you’re both tired of life in cities with 3-13 perennial losing NFL teams and it is exquisitely equidistant from your annoying relatives
and ex’s





Baltimore Washington International Airport
4:29 pm Dec. 2nd
Love is deep,
deeper than the sea,
and is as rough,
as the waves.

It has no limits,
no boundaries,
and it moves,
through you and me.

The oceans waves will tear our ship apart.
But we keep on sailing,
we knew the risks from the start.

Our sail is torn,
mast snapped in half,
but we still follow,
our charted path.

I can see,
bright skies ahead,
rest easy my love,
we are not dead.

The oceans waves will tear our ship apart.
But we keep on sailing,
we knew the risks from the start.

The sunshine will lead us to promised land.
Lead us down the right path,
take my hand.

The sunshine deceived both of us today.
The seas are still rough,
led us the wrong way.
Copyright Barry Pietrantonio
Sometimes she walks through the village in her
little red dress
all absorbed in restraining herself,
and yet, despite herself, she seems to move
according to the rhythm of her life to come.

She runs a bit, hesitates, stops,
half-turns around...
and, all while dreaming, shakes her head
for or against.

Then she dances a few steps
that she invents and forgets,
no doubt finding out that life
moves on too fast.

It's not so much that she steps out
of the small body enclosing her,
but that all she carries in herself
frolics and ferments.

It's this dress that she'll remember
later in a sweet surrender;
when her whole life is full of risks,
the little red dress will always seem right.





Lord: it is time. The summer was immense.
Lay your shadow on the sundials
and let loose the wind in the fields.

Bid the last fruits to be full;
give them another two more southerly days,
press them to ripeness, and chase
the last sweetness into the heavy wine.

Whoever has no house now will not build one
anymore.
Whoever is alone now will remain so for a long
time,
will stay up, read, write long letters,
and wander the avenues, up and down,
restlessly, while the leaves are blowing.
Gwen Pimentel Jan 2015
Take risks
Accept the challenge
Grab the opportunity
Test your limits
Push your boundaries
Find the joy in hardships
Find the light in the darkness

Climb that mountain
Take an art class
Learn a new instrument
Take that Zumba class you've been dying to go to
Discover - or rediscover - your passion
Take that leap of faith
For what's standing in between the you now and the you you want to be
is fear

Find your passion*
Because it is *so
important to have something that drives you everyday
Discover your strengths and even your weaknesses
Find your passion and hold on to it and when you find it,
Promise me, you'll hold on to something so precious
because some aren't lucky enough to recognize their passion
Pursue it
Be the best in your field
Be the best you can ever be
Be the best teacher
Be the best chef
Be the best astronaut
And if you fail, it's okay
If you fail again, it's okay
If you fail once more... well, it's still okay
Because what matters is that you stand every time you fall
You get back up and try again
Never let one failure keep you down
Be stronger than the weight pulling you down
Rise to the top
but never step on flowers just to see the sunrise
And I assure you, once you find your passion
And you pursue it
You dedicate every waking moment to it
You will feel better, do better, think better, be more inspired
Use this to inspire others and help them find their passion
Jey Jun 2014
How do I start
to tell people?
That you are
my favorite pitfall.

You've put me
into this battlefield,
without me
knowing all its hazards.

By-and-by
it's your presence,
that I cannot contain
this growing imminence.

I saw this coming
and I got immune to the pain
fell deeply in love
as your light slowly fades away.

You challenge me
you play very well,
used every card
even my pride in peril.

Left alone with the hope
you'll start to see,
all the menace that abrupts
everything will lead to me.

If this is too much
to ask of you,
spare me no trouble
for I am afraid too.

Fck readiness
fck life,
for you I'd wait
even until the great divide.

Great distress
and jeopardy,
whatever happens
you know you'll have me.

Cold as ice
you pull away,
assiduously
I will travail.

You are the threat
I will always salute,
the danger
I'd fiercely hang on to.

All the risks you try
to put me through,
I'd be gratified
to fight for that single fcking chance to have you.
Danielle Shorr Apr 2015
At my worst I am a deflated pillow, memory foam mattress, lifeless exhaustion with the imprint of human, I am the still-living outer layer of a decaying earth, this being is a hollowed oak tree
I am grounded for one night at fifteen and realize that I deserve a much longer sentence than given
I did too much holding the potential of harmful; the risks were not worth the high
I miss a life without knowing you existed

I am grounded for one night at fifteen and realize that I deserve a much longer sentence than given
Mistakes are made temporary with permanent consequences
I did too much holding the potential of harmful; the risks were not worth the high
Somehow I survived

Mistakes are made temporary with permanent consequences
I did too much holding the potential of harmful; the risks were not worth the high
Somehow I survived
At my worst I am a deflated pillow, memory foam mattress, lifeless exhaustion with the imprint of human, I am the still-living outer layer of a decaying earth, this being is a hollowed oak tree
from writing exercise #98
Infamous one Feb 2013
Get lost on the trails
Bumpy rides and turn
Be careful wipe outs happen
Bumpy rides full or wild turns
Jumps and twists taking risk
Dangers and risks shake off the stress
Bike of blue
Together as one having fun
In the forest nature can't keep mr back
Ride fast get past fear
Up hill down hill take on any skill
Bike riding has a thrill
Not afraid in the zone body aches
Bike galling don want to hit the breaks
Arun Ajmera Dec 2012
risks 50% hard work and 50% absolute failure.
This is my first time trying a one stroke haiku!
Raven Blue Jul 2020
I have a big dream;
And it's my lifetime dream.
I want to take the risk to try it out;
But I'm also afraid of the consequences.
I keep thinking, maybe if I tried it out, I won't get accepted;
Or maybe if I will get accepted, I can encounter lots of obstacle and take big risks,
And that dream could change my life.
But still, it is my lifetime dream;
And I'm still very confused right now.
Should I take the risks or not?
I actually have a lifetime dream, but I'm afraid to take the risks. I'm still confused right now but I really want to try it out.
My technology nightmare
Leaves me euphoric this morning.
Addicted, like drug trials,
I knew the risks going in,
Got hooked in The Cloud &
Now it always seems easier,
With diminished psychic chafing
Whenever I go with the flow, as the
Hipsters are saying again.
Yes, the hipsters:
Finally, some kids I can relate to.
At least on some level, their music e.g.
The first thing I did this morning,
Waiting for my laptop to boot,
Was put a CD on the stereo:
Matrix Reloaded: The Album.
I set the shuffle function,
Looping back between
Linkin Park’s Session &
Team Sleep’s Passportal.
You can tell a lot about
What kind of day it will be
By the soundtrack you choose,
Your infinite play list,
Don’t ever say these kids have no culture,
Or nothing to share with us old farts.
Old Farts: an apt, Baby Boomer term in 2015.
Kids’ music, some of it quite good,
Quite 60s-worthy if you catch my drift,
As we used to say while grazing in the grass with
Hugh Masekela & his Naai Mongoe-Swazi red,
Surfrikan homeboys & band mates, & that
ANC Kwa-Guqa Township posse,
Shadowing him since Sharpeville.
That’s right, Babaloo,
Go with the flow.
Don’t fight it. You’ve been spared the unintended
Consequences of government shenanigans &
Free market meltdowns.
Consider this a CEASE & DESIST NOTICE:
Cease swimming upstream Mr. Phelps.
Desist fighting tide & current, Michael.
A mariner’s distinction, yet serviceable &
Purposed for this narrative.
“And away we go,” croons a Gleason levitation;
Aloft we go into the wild blue yonder.
The Cloud: an exalted playground.
You are atop the slide,
Kindergarten lord of all you survey,
Sultan, Chinese Emperor & Venetian Doge,
A 90-caliber Duke of Earl,
You are euphoric, Mike.

The descent into the humanoid condition
(See Paddy Chayefsky’s Howard Beale),
Is slick and precipitous.
It begins when you first finger ****
A pocket calculator or touchtone phone,
Or use a Xerox machine.
From there it’s a quick slide down
The technology ****-shoot: video games,
Spreadsheets & word processors,
Emails, texts & tweets,
Laser projection keyboards,
Wi-Fi amplifiers,
GPS navigators, &
Apps for No-Strings *** . . .
By “****-shoot” I editorialize, of course,
In a state of future shock,
Resenting planned obsolescence,
Contemptuous of shrewd **** kids,
Wharton School sharpies,
Scoping out price curves & flowcharts,
Colluding at industry trade shows,
Powwows & confabs,
Releasing newer, more versatile
Models & spinoffs, according to a
Scheme planned three years in advance.

I salt the inevitable wounds of technology,
Taking my fight to the streets, realizing too late
My sole means of alerting the flash mob
Is by so-called smart phone,
*******!
Even the revolution has gone digital.
Poor Gil Scott Heron, dead last year at 62,
Poor Scott Heron, channeled into the
Harlem Renaissance by that loyal Chicago Defender,
Subscriber & reader, to wit: his Grandma,
A “Rainbow Conspiracy” co-conspirator,
Cooking ham hocks & collard greens for that
Mythical coalition of Young Lords,
Black Panthers & SDS.
Heron’s prognostication was wrong:
“The Revolution Will (In Fact) Be Televised!”
We’ve witnessed quite a bit of it,
Lately, prime time lately,
Live by satellite from once exotic places,
Places like Tunisia, Egypt, Libya, Syria & Ferguson, MO.
I say “once exotic” because it’s hard to be
Visually intoxicated by images of screaming brown men
Sporting New York Yankee ball caps,
“Vote for Pedro” T-shirts and
$200.00 Air Jordan footwear.
Admittedly, the production values of
Revolutionary journalism have improved,
Action reported Hollywood-style,
Narrative arcs, scripted episodes,
Drive-by Potemkin villages & battle scenes,
30 or 60 or 90 day shooting schedules.
Spontaneous proletarian uprisings as Reality TV,
Riveting dramas,
High Nielsen ratings & $500K
Per minute corporate sponsors.
Let’s view the new fall line-up:
(1) “Mustafa Behaving Badly!”
(2) “Tunisian Tear Gas Talent!”
(3) “Gaddafi Gets Sodomized!”
Bogle Jan 2014
Old like a pensioner,
I'm reminded,
every waking hour,
of how I'm being left behind.

I'm sat there,
staring into space,
waiting for the world to change,
and love to accelerate leaving me stuck.

Stuck in the past,
where people are how they are,
where they haven't changed into freaks,
intent on destroying what makes them beautiful.

They are just fresh and pure,
and wise enough,
enough to not take risks,
risks that aren't worth taking.

But SNAP,
an adrenaline rush,
back to reality,
what has happened?

They bitterly remind me,
that I'm to ill to be in control,
they have planned to move on,
without a second thought.

I am sat there,
a hopeless mess,
while they leave to get a job,
proving there ability in independents and change.

It doesn't take a genius,
to realise I'm ill,
the anxiety of loss and change,
leaves me edgy and so low.

I'm dying,
I hope someone,
can **** my troubles,
before they **** me.
Mikaila Jan 2014
I'm not a winner.
Now, before you all rush to tell me how great I am, and how I should really have more confidence,
Take a breath because that's not what I mean.

When I say I'm not a winner, I mean I don't want to be.
I mean that whenever I try to cut corners in my life, and get the better of it, and come out "on top"
I just end up feeling...
Empty.
I'm not a winner.
I don't get to do the I'm-just-having-fun, wild, crazy stuff.
Not because I'm not able, not because I'm restricted,
But because at the end of the day no matter how much I think I've changed, it does nothing for me.

Who I am is the person who would rather, despite numerous but half-hearted efforts to the contrary,
Spend my life alone than with anyone but the girl I love.
The person who's done with the party after a couple of hours, and wants to go do something quieter.
The person who looks long,
Thinks deep,
And doesn't win because she doesn't find it fulfilling.
What I mean when I say I'm not a winner is that I am a lover.
I know what I want, even when I try not to.
And I try to ***** out feelings that limit me, that confuse me, that make me afraid,
I try to at least shelve them and pretend I have control.
But always it boils down to a moment of clarity:

I am not a winner.

I do not win over my heart.
I do not want to.
I have no use for excess, no time for compromise, no patience for pretense.
I fought to be the one who has control, the one who doesn't care,
Who takes risks just to prove she can,
But
The truth is my real risks are being saved up like lucky pennies in a jar, and I can't truly spend a single one on anything but love.
And I've been spiriting them away, trying to give them out to everyone I know
Just so I won't have to be brave enough to box them all up and set them on her doorstep, but I can't do it.
I'm kidding myself- It's already happened.
There's a girl walking around some far off city
With my love tucked away in her coat pocket like a stray coin
That you don't spend because its weight against your leg has become habit
And I am fooling myself to think I have even the slightest bit left back here to offer anyone else.

No matter what I try, the answer I come to is always the same.
I think I'm so clever, getting around it, finding a new path
But in the end it's always the same shade of lame attempt to be
Less serious
Less in love
Less... brave.
It always boils down to cowardice, and once I see that, I quit trying and smarten up.
Plain and simple, I've been trying to win.
And I've failed.
Not because I was not strong enough for the fight,
But because I never wanted what I was fighting for in the first place.
(Title from Neil Young's song "Old Man")
L Smida Jan 2012
Hello there, I’m Heidi.  I’m 17 years old but I’m no longer alive.  I was 16 years old when I died.  It’s been a year since I’ve breathed the earthly oxygen.  The air up here is so much fresher than down there.  It’s quite unbelievable.  If you listen closely, I’ll happily tell you my story even though it’s not very happy.  If you're emotional, please take a moment to make sure there's a box of tissues handy, because by the time I reach the end, you might need some.  I’m just letting you know.  It’s not a happy ending.  Anyways, have you ever fallen in love?  Not the kind of love that you confused with the real kind.  I’m talking about true, heart pumping love.  The kind where you'll do absolutely anything for, anything in the world.  Even if it kills you.  The kind that if it starts slipping away, you'll do whatever it takes to hold it together.  You’re probably asking yourself, "16 and in love?"  Yea.  Well, here is my story.  
It all started with the day Sammy’s dad got a new job out of state.  We lived in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania for as long as I could remember and her dad's new job was all the way over in Long Beach, California.  "This can’t be happening," I thought to myself.  "How will I survive without Sammy?  She’s literally my life, the air I simply breathe every day.  She’s the only person I fully trust with my whole heart.  She’s the only person in my life worth talking to.  She’s so incredibly sweet, the sweetest girl I’ve ever met.  She doesn’t judge, she doesn’t cause any trouble, she’s real down to earth, well put together, and smart.  Everything."  It seemed too perfect, almost dream-like.  You know, the dream that you never want to wake up from.  Well, there I was living it and I didn’t ever want to wake up.  
People use to call me "The Dreamer" because I was always in a great mood.  I was always smiling and taking big risks.  I only took those risks if I absolutely thought it was worth it.  Which most of the time I thought it was.  In my opinion, I thought I was too positive but not cocky.  I was definitely not cocky at all.  I was simply positive and cheerful and constantly trying to cheer everyone else up.  Especially Sammy, I secretly thought that I had super powers.  I somehow summoned a power deep within myself that could make real smiles appear on people’s faces.  Real smiles!  The ones that create a bundle of energy instead of taking it away.  You know, fake smiles, they are forced as a result of wasted energy.  The only thing better than real smiles are real laughs.  My energy comes from laughs and smiles from other people.  When I created laughter and smiles, my energy level would rise to the top of the meter and I would be confident about everything.  I would feel indestructible, and nothing could ever hurt me.  So I thought.
When Sammy and I said our goodbyes that day, I surely didn’t want that to be the end.  I didn’t want that moment to be the last.  So I promised her that I would look for her in the future and we could get back together.  We’d keep in touch everyday with texts, calls, and the internet.  She got on the plane and that was that.  I didn’t cry.  She didn’t cry.  Until our backs were toward each other, then I couldn’t hold it.  We knew we’d see each other again and we were sure of it.  She knew I had a plan up my sleeve and that I was going to make sure everything was going to be alright.  Trust, number one thing in a relationship.
The next day I couldn’t stand it.  I couldn’t put up with the empty feeling anymore.  She wasn’t physically here.  I missed seeing her face, her smile, and her eyes.  I missed her laughter and her hugs the most.  My energy was dying.  So I thought up a scheme and I was going to follow through with it.  I called her up and told her that I was coming to see her.  Soon.  
I searched all my drawers and pockets for all my money.  I was going to have to be able to afford a one-way plane ticket and maybe a hotel if Sammy's parents wouldn't let me stay with them.  I wanted to plan for the worst just in case.  I wouldn't want to show up with no money and assume they'd let me live with them.  What if they wouldn't, then I'd be *******.  So after a while of looking around, I came up with 510 dollars.  Enough for a plane ticket and a cheap hotel for a few days.  I’ll have to find a job for sure.  But first, I'd have to go online and find the cheapest airline to use.
I picked out a few sets of clothes and fit them into a single bag.  I didn’t want anything slowing me down.  I didn’t tell anyone I was leaving or where I was going.  Besides Steve, my neighbor, I got him to drop me off at the airport.  We waited in line to buy a ticket to the first flight to California.  Fortunately, the soonest one was in a few hours and there was still a few seats left.  He walked me to the security check and then they wouldn't let him past without a ticket, so he wrapped his arms around me gave me a tight squeeze and he told me that he'd miss me an awful lot and if I ever needed any help to just call him and he would help out as best he could.  Which made me feel a ton more relaxed.  He had tears in his eyes when we separated.  I remembered saying, "I’ll text you when I get there."  I assured him that I would be just fine and he had nothing to worry about.  I also thanked him for being such a great friend.  He really was and always will be.  He stood there as I attempted to walk away, but then I turned and had to go back for another hug.  Then I was sure I was ready to go.  The second attempt to walk away was more successful than the first.  I felt him watch me the whole way till I turned the corner, out of his sight.  
I sat in the terminal for a long time, analyzing the room.  I remember that there was a cute little blonde girl with her dad, a guy with a mysterious black hat and matching trench coat, a tall thin girl with a guitar, an average looking group of 20 year old guys and a few old women.  Those were the only people that stood out, there was many more but I don’t particularly remember them.  After a while, they started calling seat numbers that were allowed to board, starting with the back.  My ticket said that I was seat number 22.  When they called 20 through 30, I got up and found my seat in the big jet.  The butterflies in my tummy are as hyper as possible.  I imagined myself with a butterfly net trying to capture all the fluttering creatures inside me so I could release them on the outside.  They were all crammed in there, fighting each other for space, and it was an unbalanced feeling.  I put my bag under my seat, sat down in seat 22 and decided to make a quick call to Sammy.  I told her I was on my way and I should be there in a few hours.  She sounded extraordinarily excited which made my heart pound.  She made the violent butterflies stop their fighting.  She also told me that her parents agreed to pick me up at the airport.  How nice of them!  Then a lady told me to get off the phone.  I thought it was rude of her to say that to me, but I don’t like making people mad, so I listened to her.  The thing I remember the most is when I told Sammy that I love her, with honesty in her voice she said it back.  Then I hung up and then I finally turn my phone off.  As soon as everyone was in and completely ready, a woman’s voice spoke on the income system.  She said something about there being flight attendants going around checking everyone’s bags and seatbelts to make sure they're secure.  There was the sound of my pulse in my ears and it was louder than anything else.  It was difficult to catch everything she was saying.  I buckled my seat belt but I left a lot of room for movement.  Before I knew it, we were up in the air.  Then I closed my eyes and that’s all I remember.  Don’t ask me how I fell asleep.  All the excitement must've made me exhausted.
The next thing I know, all of a sudden, I was thrown from my seat and I hit my head off the window and it sent sharp shooting pains through my nerves.  Everyone gasped at the same exact moment, and I had no idea what was going on.  I don’t think anyone did but I think we all knew it wasn’t good.  The feeling was like standing in an elevator, having the cables snap, and being dropped from 100 stories high.  Only it was a million times worse.  I was being thrown around everywhere.  I couldn't hold on or even fight back.  Everyone was in mad panic trying to grasp anything near to sturdy themselves.  I managed to get a glimpse out the window to see the clouds shaking.  That told me that the plane wasn’t working right.  Something absolutely horrible was going to happen, the feeling was so strong.  I heard a loud click and then a thud and I caught a glance of the little blonde girl across the aisle from me get hit in the face with a huge metal suite case.  It hit her so hard that it knocked her clear out of this world.  She fell limp and her head lay still on the floor, blood oozing out.  The puddle started streaking toward me, it told me that the plane was tilting or rolling over.  I noticed that her dad wasn’t around.  I stumbled across the aisle and held her in my arms.  I remember my vision being really blurry probably from tears or the plane shaking, or both.  I patted her cheeks to try and wake her, but she was out.  I held her tight and quickly took the time to look around for help but then realized there was no help.  Every ounce of calmness was clearly gone.  I set the girl in the seat and buckled her in.  I wasn’t sure if that would do anything but it seemed like a good idea.  The plane stayed tilted on its side then shook and it literally felt like an earth quake.  My stomach started twisting; the nose of the plane was dipping forward.  I took another look out the window.  My head was spinning, thoughts scattered everywhere.  Everything was moving way too fast and I couldn’t keep up.  I couldn’t concentrate or focus on anything.  I stood up and that was it.  After that, everything went black and then a bright white light took over.  Eventually something happened and I was floating above looking down.  It was a horrid sight, everything so lifeless and dead, unmoving.  Besides for the flames, they were more alive than anything.  Smashed metal, sparks and fire, soundless noise, and in the middle of nowhere, what was going to happen to all these bodies?  
Later, I somehow channeled my sight into a different location.  It’s been hours later and I saw Sammy and her parents in the airport.  They were anxiously waiting for my plane to arrive.  Little did they know, I wasn’t coming.  Hours and hours passed only making them more and more worried and confused.  I felt horrible.  I wish I could send them a message from up here.  They went to look at the departure and arrival screen and there was no time recorded on the screen for the flight they were looking for.  It was completely wiped off the board.  Her dad led them to the main desk to ask the man behind the counter if the plane had arrived yet.  A sorrowful look fell upon the man’s face.  He blinked away tears and you could tell he was searching for the right words to say.  He started to open his mouth but then failed to force words out.  He swallowed a gulp of air and he shook his head.  Something turned all their attention to the 40 inch flat screen on the wall where there was a lady reporting “heart breaking news” about a tragic accident.  He pointed Sammy’s attention to the television behind him, although she was already deeply fascinated.  The news reporter explained and then there were live videos being shown from a chopper that was looking down at the accident.  Sammy cupped her hands over her mouth.  Tears immediately leaked down her face.  Her parents were crying too.  Sammy collapsed to her knees.  I felt like I was standing right there watching everything but I couldn’t feel my feet.  I floated over to Sammy who was sitting on the floor with her face buried in her hands.  Her mom knelt next to her with her arms braced around her.  I waved my arms and shouted, "Look I’m right here!  Please stop crying."  But no one saw me or heard me.  I went over to Sammy and tried to grab her face to make her look at me, but I couldn’t feel anything.  I looked down at my hands and they were transparent.  I panicked and I knew this couldn’t be happening.  But it was.  I was dead.  
I channeled into another location, my house.  My parents were watching the same news channel but they didn’t know I was on that plane.  They didn’t know I was missing.  They didn’t know I was dead until weeks later.  When I didn’t come home that night, they called the cops and sent out search parties.  Whelp, they found me.  They identified my body in the plane.  My parents didn’t believe it because they had no idea how I would've got on the plane in the first place.  Then when they brought my body back to bury it, it was proof to them that it was fact me.  I absolutely hated watching everyone cry.  I hated that I couldn’t do anything about it.  Everyone that I left was left in silence.  I at least got to tell Sammy that I love her.  I got a last hug out of Steve.  Those were the most important people in my life.  I couldn’t feel worse at this moment.  
I felt like I was doing the right thing, chasing my dreams.
The dreamer thought she could fly.
Kevin Eli Jan 2018
It's quite a feeling to wake up each day a little less numb. Honestly, it's terrifying to feel... anything. When somebody has carried on for so long without allowing oneself to feel love, accept love, or take risks to find love, they start to find that they are only half a human and only half living.

This chord may resonate like the sad sound of a violin because maybe the last time you fully loved someone, it gave you the ultimate pain, sadness, loss and suffering to the point where your favorite places, foods, music, shows, hobbies became a hole in your heart and breath. Where the sanctuary of sleep meant nothing to the rising haunted and longing memories within. Where the only solution you can think of is not waking up again and again.

That hole never goes away, and it's something that you just try to get used to. Some people don't, and they take their lives, or die of a broken heart, while others become lifeless. These last hold no light within their eyes, walking amongst us like hollow puppets on strings led onward by everyone else but themselves, never recovering from the shock of the loss of what they loved more than their self.

One remarkable feeling that often remains in loss is hate. To find blame and ask why a million times about a million things and run in a circle screaming at the top of your lungs every time the radio plays their favorite song and you blame the DJ for reminding you is insanity, but you're just looking for somewhere safe...

But you can never have it another way and you make lemonade as best as you can, unsweetened and sour. Knowing we all expire like the lemons under the tree, we make that **** lemonade and bring our recipe to market. With a second wind, the slightest breezes somehow keeps blowing down your lemonade stand.

Others may laugh and abuse you for what they see as a ****-poor performance at making lemonade, but they don't know how hard it was for this person to crawl on ****** hands and broken knees while their salty tears fell into the lemonade they call their own life then shakily offer you a half full Dixie cup of everything they had left.

I applaud those who have had to make lemonade with less than lemons and I applaud those who are willing to try these ad hoc recipes the most broken of us scribble frantic and blindly. Society tells us it is universal that we all want love, but the things that love entail like sadness, grief and loss are unwanted and many believe they can avoid the minefield by being picky, guarded, flighty or selfish... That's not love.

Love is work, love is painful. Love can take a lifetime out of you. It requires that we dedicate precious time here on Earth which we never get back to someone other than ourselves, and that is a risk that must be taken if it is to be found. You will get hurt, you will be broken, you will survive or succeed on your own terms. As humans, we look at the world and wonder why about everything; why am I alone? why does love hurt?

Only the universe knows. O' to say we should never ask if it was worth it and laugh. It always is. Even if you end up at 88 or 28 placing flowers on their grave, love is worth the risk.
The time in which we gathered together,
Lost in our arms and eyes,
Correctly begins with "Once upon a time..."
And does now beguile my sunrise.
-
A wasteland is wont for many explorers,
In its greed though, it keeps them forever,
But the paradise I found with you
Would light my every endeavor.
-
Were each freckle a map of stars upon,
The shining blue sky this morn,
They"d allow me to navigate your sea of soft skin,
And mend a heart, forlorn.
-
An anchor that kept my vessel afloat
While Poseidon's depression near' took me with him,
I held the key to your heart, fabled Atlantis,
In love as I could ever have been, by an Angel, smitten.
-
The tender kashmir lips,
That promised and fulfilled me to sleep,
Have dispersed long ago,
And have tempted me to weep.
-
Complex reflections of my own inner self,
Revealed the catastrophe in full,
Though you had my heart for yourself,
I couldn't find where it leisurely lulled.
-
Young and daft, I took my own risks,
Risks that transformed into sorrow,
Shielded at last, that upon my cask'
Shall be writ' "perhaps joy comes on the morrow"
-
The serene, subcontious Siren
Knows not even of her own beauty,
With eyes that could stop time and planes
Of space, she can, so truly.
-
I beg to be rid of the memories,
I ask for constant euthanasia,
I consume to forget entirely
And regret my own mistakes here.

— The End —