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Egaeus Thompson Jan 2017
My darling little one I am tasked.
Tasked with the idea of imparting what I know.
It might not all help,
But it is what I wish I knew.

If you don’ t already;
Pretend you like yourself,
Because if people think you are untouchable
They won’t attempt to approach you and tell you the negative things that you already tell yourself.

Take the time to listen to classical music,
You will like Toccata and Fuge in Dmin,
Trust me.

Don’t regret anything;
You are who you are because of what you have done,
Even if you don’t like the person you are now,
Use the present as a catalyst to become who you picture yourself being.

Fall in love with weird people.
They are a different type of person
And you learn much about how the mind works from them.

Pick up the ukulele.
It is bright and happy.
But only do this after your long stint as a metalhead.
People can say what they want,
But you have to be talented for metal
And if anyone knows about community and looking out for their own it is metalheads.

It is okay to be unhappy-
Even now I don't have the hang of this one.
But maybe someday
Maybe someday.

My tiny shining star,
The world will be cruel to you,
But it will be kind if you let it.
Take in the little things that give you joy.

But your Mum and I cannot wait,
To see the joys you experience
And the mistakes you make,
Because I will be waiting with tea and gumboots
And your Mum will be waiting with blanket forts and chocolate
And probably a better solution.

You will be an unstoppable force in this world
And I couldn't be more excited to meet you
Amanda Small Sep 2012
your backbone a keyboard
memorized by lamplight,
i play 'Little Fuge' between your shoulder blades

we drink moonshine to make the stars burn
dress with our backs turned

never an early morning riser
i've settled for the love of comets and cold bed sheets
Michael Parish Nov 2013
That art of fuge
Let bach rise in
The grass the neihbor
And I are mad for.
The top of my longues.
Every inch in my gut the air
Escapes with the scream
I saw this morning.
The lonly seagull flying
Over blue waves
Moves to fast to paint
The muse on sail boats
Searching fornwind.
The wind to go north.
Towards the border
Of new places.
The heart im told
Explains my metaphoric soul.
But from the angle I saw
Captured me with music.
How mad was john clare
When he saw the whole entire world.
He wasnt crazy
Im crazy to ingore
The muse.
The moonlite sonnata
And day breaking dawn.
Where the trees dead rings
Tell me thirty years ago
My mother saw six feet of snow
And she was glad.
Wennever can get tired
When we act like children.
The liberation hears every
Seed in a pink lady apple.
We were born to feel
The colors of art.
We were born to die in
The irony of death.
We came out with the ego
Of a thousand parrots
Repeat what youve learned and
Heard.  Give it to the universal
Brahma of creation.
John Reilly Nov 2016
My Body
Is evidently
damning
I plead for
Clemency
I do not
Wish to leave
Not my time
I do not
Want to serve
My changed mind
An Unspeakable
Sentence
An inescapable
Outcome
Fugitive
In
A fuge state
Pardon me
Tawanda Mulalu Oct 2017
Sea-shell song, hand-paper gasp
green grass swish crunch, fugue siren drowns blue,
pupil light harsh glitter, blood bite teeth cup sing,
     do not submerge the baby's head again
     again head baby's the submerge not do
why and where are you gliding down like that
aren't you done you're born already- what
significance were you expecting if the corner
of your eyes stops- there is nothing behind you,
nothing. No song shell-sea, paper-hand gasp
      blue drowns siren fuge, crunch swish grass green
      sing cup teeth bite blood, glitter harsh light pupil
again head baby's the submerge not do
do not submerge the baby's head again-
STOP ******* WITH THE REMOTE ******.

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