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Alyanne Cooper May 2014
“If you could be anywhere in the world

At this exact moment,

Where would you choose to be?”

I choose the easternmost point

Of Acadia Maine at sunrise.

Cold, salty ocean spray in my face,

Warm thermos of cocoa in my hands

And the promise of a new day

Being made right before my very eyes.

What could be more reassuring?

What could be more solidifying?

To know that no matter

What happened in the days or weeks

Or months or years or decades

Before,

Today, right now, at this exact moment,

It is all behind you,

It is all in your past.

And that sunrise you’re watching

Over cresting crashing white topped waves

In the cool breeze of morning

With the scent of dirt and earth and trees

Carried on the wind that also brings

The call of the morning dove and thrush

And Phoebe-bird,

Is the promise you’ve been waiting for.

The promise that you’re gonna be okay

Because today, today is a new day.
M Eastman Apr 2015
What difference does it make
die wth regrets or
pride
    instead
I choose
the former
     I poisoned the ground
painted the walls offun colors
and broke bottles in streetcars
checking your bank account .  
    you're so far away
From your own
              Too risky you say
I'll smash my own body acadian
        pavements
at one hundred percent increase
   It doesn't matter
jide oyediran Mar 2015
Siting in the midst of birds
At st barnabas park
Can't see blue
Turning round and round
Without the help of man
Viewing point at 360degree
Unknown to human I see all


Man with his crew
Shooting of Elizabeth of Acadian
Exchange of script and cast man to man
As he handles it
Viewing  from the cardinal points
Excellent we did it
Still could not see all

I see all yes I see all
So I see more even more
more than d cardinal points,I see
Remember I created you
Don't forget a labourer can be more than his master
I have to hold you to work
You leave me with no option to destroy the work of my hand.
brandon nagley Jun 2015
Come-hither amare
Stroke mine gill
Pull mine hair

Stroke it softly dearest love,

Cometh near amour'
I'll rub thy flesh
I'll make thy sketch

Of thy unearthly body upon the throne,

Get closer grá
Pull thy draw
In Acadian fall

Hoist ourn appetite,

Bite into that fruitful apple
No simpletons to ****** thou
No petty thieves to break in

Just stench of ourn beginnings, no end!!

Potion of magic wizards
Anti-toxin of dose elixer
Antidote of unkept filters

How thou hast cleaned me so purely!!!
MS Lim Dec 2015
SONG OF THE PAINTER
                       (Dedicated to ...)


My mind swims in the endless sea
Of myriad shapes and colours
A mysterious force guides my hand
To create light,  shade and contours.

The whole universe beckons to me
Its pulse I feel, its beauties I see
I let my fancies roam wild and free
I touch the edge of eternity.

Every stroke of my brush
Vibrates like  a string of my heart
I leap into a kaleidoscopic world-
The Acadian garden of art.

In every shape and colour
An echo of music do I hear
The painter is an orchestrator
Of beauty that is ever sweet and dear.
NIL
Derrek Estrella Apr 2020
Epitaph of viscous fellow
Of whom I knew well without asking
And befriended while basking
In his whiskey nozzle chin
Milking his Acadian shin

Suffice it to say
How aroused was I!
To pet this neutered butterfly
His legs a stiff boulder
Caressed by petaled shoulders

Thick, incumbent man
Dream yourself a body
Where you are all but folly
And laugh at the notion
Of your ceaseless implosions

— The End —