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CK Baker Aug 2017
Manning up in Texas
Geldof overdose
needles at the bed stand
starlet comatose

California dreaming
killer meets demise
hurling in a taxi
puke fee on the rise

Fighting in the Gaza
Jordan's holy war
rebels on a mission
Jihad underscore

The North Korean riddle
pales in grand design
crisis on the border
planes fall from the sky

Cooking on a deadline
tempting tapenades
herbs are in the spotlight
wines that give a nod

Google maps the body
DOW at record highs
Uber comes to market
corn is on the rise

Apple on its earnings
Caterpillar dead
European sanctions
banks have **** the bed

Clippers threaten boycott
Longhorns follow purge
Lynch is out of training camp
James is on the verge

Leinart taking *** shots
coughing up a lung
lions take a licking
fans are throwing dung

Another day in Vegas
Primm from A-Z
rolling out an ankle
a flying SUV

Quiet tempting spaces
made better by design
multi color pea coat
silence fuels the mind

Stabbing in the subway
goat caught in a well
apes are selling tickets
(but leave behind a smell)

Puberty on trial
a man without a head
teachers feel alone
lets take them to the shed!

Jonah's tomb destroyed
wreckage in Mumbai
Sugar Daddy sites
Freedom 85

The immigrant debate
Russia's mounting toll
unions on a mission
heads are gonna roll

Beaches for the nudists
hotels on the cheap
the best generic brands
a list you have to keep!

Planning your estate
questions from the camp
a mansion up for sale
where once they filmed The Champ

Midwives threaten action
aboriginal act
truckers want concessions
that train has left the track

Sharks are found in Fundy
a prized but perilous catch
food we love to hate the most
an irrefutable batch

A family on the brink
I want my kids to fail!
politicians drains all hope
a ban on Israel

Follow out each headline
let the columns be your guide
all these things did happen
the day that Newhouse died
The water came up
with the wind
and pushed us back
among the small flat
stones upon the shore

The fastest tides
in the world
lead by dark red foam
and the scream
of the infinite divide
Connor Thomas Mar 2013
Bare rose colored lips spitting Minnesota slush.
You thrash expertly with an accelerating fury,
Like a volcano spewing molten lava,
Cursing upwardly.

You stared up from the cold rock ground.
Monstrously,
Savagely.
Seventeen steps away from me.
You beat Satan’s rooftop with fists full of anger.

Aggressively,
Ferociously,
Now ten steps apart from me,
The beating orange ball made your fury grow.
With a rising intensity.
Now five steps from me.

Your lavish brown hair finally resting on your shoulder
Cautiously,
Patiently,
One hand away from me.
Dan Gray May 2013
I sit and look over the Basin of Minas
Still waters reflect as fine as an optical mirror
The Cape juts out as the prow of some ancient ship
Eternally pushing its way through the long, slow tides
Acting as a wall separating Fundy from the Valley
It stands silhouetted against dark clouds that may hold rain
A white blanket of fog wraps itself slowly over the Cape
Standing out as bright as clean, white cotton
Molding itself over the land
As a blanket molds itself over a reclining person
Emotions are relaxed by the sight
Calm enters the soul with this view
Eternal beauty for all to see
Overlooked by the many
A sense of belonging envelopes me
Just as the fog envelopes the Cape.

Dan Gray
We have the highest tides in the world here which brings fog as the Bay of Fundy is deep and cold and the summers here can be quite warm.  When you live someplace long enough some sites become normal and you don't see them, the site of a wall of fog rolling of the Cape after 24 years still is a beautiful sight to me.
The shadows fall and
all in all
nightfall
will soon be upon us.

The campfires
smoking
giving the darkness
a grayish tinge.

This Split juts
out into the Fundy Bay,
now with the sun gone
it will grow even colder.


Low laying clouds
mingle with the smoke,
if you remain quiet
you can hear more that the crackle
of the burning wood.

From behind the trees,
something eerie
to make you shiver.
To let you know you are in the wild.

A stream runs through the woods.
The fresh water for the morning coffee
has already been drawn,
plastic jugs and canteens full.

There are bears
and coyotes and deer 
out here,
but in all the time
coming out to
this breath taking cliff
I have never run into either.

This time I have come
with a purpose other than
the fresh air and sounds of the ocean
far below.

My father's last wish,
to have his ashes
scattered over the side
to the rocks and water.

This is where he grew up,
the small village at the base of the cliff.
I was born here and I never called it home.
Now I am proud to come from such
a beautiful place.

My mother, a native,
my father, an import from Boston.
So much history needing to be sifted through.
So much a mystery when it comes to my Dad.

A plaque will adorn the small cemetery,
with my fathers full name,
-Irving Richard MacPherson-
My mother already buried there.

He never liked his name
so he called himself Richard.
Now I find myself choosing Irving
over Kenneth for mine.

I will die and when I do
I will join my father
in the vastness of the Atlantic.
Such a beautiful end to a good life.
James Floss Nov 2019
It was a fun day
On the Bay of Fundy
When Chris, Jane, Mateo and Juan
Happened to look leftward

New Brunswick looked old as
The ocean shimmered singularly
Porpoises poised ominously and
The captain seemed bereft

"4° starboard, Coxswain!” he bellowed
Before the worst occurred
Juan saw it just before Jane
As the ship ****** accordingly

Beside, the thing from nowhere
The beast that could not be
Krakened enormously
Splitting sea and sky

Mateo was the first to plead,
“Why, oh why, here and just now?”
He beseeched sea, beast, and sky
“Why not?” Crackled the Kracken

The sum of fun on bay of Fundy
Ended that day in mid July
The  flying fish remember
All those who did not die
Took a ten mile drive
To the Bay of Fundy

The tides out for miles
We climb down the loose shale

On the beach we can hear the tidewater rushing
The red clay hills feel like a dream

The beauty of it all, wholesome and true
I could baptised my self in the muddy murky red
Gray Ndiaye Mar 2023
Is this an
Actual explanation?
Or heightened
Trepidation
Surrounding
Hounding
Me
I feel good
Depending
On the hour
The minutes
The seconds
Turn tides
Like Fundy
Clouds try
To drown
Out my sunny
Days
Making moves
Steady making
Waves
Why am
I so insecure
Somehow I'm
An Aries
Ain't that
Peculiar
Sick and tired
Of signing these
Dotted lines
Not superficial
I'm just trying
To make
The climb
Feels like
Logically I'm
Not running
Out of time
….
I just feel
A little
Behind
Not trying
To romanticize
Sadness
Or be too
Dramatic
I suppressed
It all for years
Now I find
Myself in a
State of madness
Nick Levesque Jun 2020
"you want a version you made up in your head that will never satisfite quy

I waddle inversion turned sundering sault without a mind to abide by

the we we both reach somehow


it's fundy how time settles simply little solutions sprinkled about

but in the mean is where we live ty."


dark delved into doesn't dabble as well as it could if it knew just how much er it gets as it sits on the test
vol-de-plume ink lights whimsy in the wack-a-more many
what made it this in the first place? can the bridges keep up the pace or is the integration too great?
are you too late?
apostrophes are only as good as their comma separation
Along side the old railroad track
A harsh breeze keep an eagle suspended
While the wind whistles
Through the massive power lines
The Fundy water red with clay
Although I've never been
I'm sure it's comparable to
The great Muddy Mississippi
Always seems to be an osprey in the air
and gulls and geese at low tide
Feeding to the delight of hikers
Come see us someday where there is
No politics in play
Just fresh air and clean visuals
Refreshing to say the least
Like a mushroom high

— The End —