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marriegegirl Jul 2014
Il n'est pas un secret que nous sommes rejets totaux pour un bon bouquet de la mariée .Grands.petits .nous les aimons tous et les motifs floraux de Marti est là pour briser la jolie .Elle partage sa recette robes demoiselles d honneur pour le faisceau ultime de fleurs et grâce à Lexi Vornberg Photographie vous pouvez voir les clichés ici .Pssst : les gagnants .les rappels et quelques réductions d'amusement sont juste un rouleau de suite.Week-end heureux!\u003cp\u003e

BOUQUET RECIPEAgonisStockAnemonesRanunculusItalian RuscusLisianthusUhle CurlsEucalyptusGarden Roses

Astuce: Toute fleur est belle en soi .Mettre un superbe anémone blanche sur la texture sombre de la Agonis bordeaux rend plus perceptible.Les verts donnent à ce bouquet l'aspect dramatique que faire de la pop .Beaucoup de fois la verdure a une mauvaise réputation .Insérer photo mentale de la feuille de cuir de l'épicerie avec des roses rouges et le souffle du bébé .Il est tout à l'application des fleurs et la façon dont ils sont placés ensemble .Un bon truc est de commencer avec chaque fleur individuelle et en les faisant tourner dans le placement jusqu'à ce que le bouquet est plein .De

les motifs floraux de Marti .Beaucoup de fleurs entrent dans la fabrication d'un bouquet de mariée.Chaque fleur est choisi pour une raison précise .Pour représenter une couleur .une texture .un style .Une fleur peut être pris et fait pour ressembler moderne .romantique .classique ou rustique .Tout est dans le regard que la jeune mariée tente de réaliser pour son mariage .Je suis un grand défenseur de la vente des jeunes mariées sur le style et pas une fleur particulière .Mère Nature ne donne jamais le même produit chaque semaine et chaque mariée n'est pas le même non plus!Toutes les fleurs en dehors frappent sur leur propre .mais quand vous voyez le produit tiré ensemble la dernière pièce est tout aussi magnifique .Je voulais apporter un regard derrière la fabrication d'un bouquet .

Apporter des talents particuliers de toute la nation fait ce possible avec un ruban de teint à la main et effiloché soie de Froufrou Chic .lettrage organique de Signora a Mare .et capturé par Lexi Vornberg Photographie Photographie

: . Lexi Vornberg Photographie | Calligraphie: madame E Mare | robes demoiselles d honneur Fleurs : les motifs floraux de Marti | ruban : FrouFrou Chic

cadeaux COURS500 1500

$ carte-cadeau d' Ann Taylor WeddingsA jupe en tulle de

http://modedomicile.com

Alexandra Grecco $ en certificat cadeau de Arcs -N- Cravates MariposaEnter Pin It To Win It concours
remises cette semaine .

Fattie PieAlexandra Grecco

Pour nos épouses Californie .Réductions de Evangeline Photographie .

Pour nos robe de soirée grande taille épouses Midwest .Participez pour gagner une séance d'engagement de soirée de Cristina G Photographie .

Pour nos épouses Nouvelle-Angleterre.Une offre spéciale de Hyatt Regency Cambridge .

et les gagnants .

Big Félicitations à la Bretagne .Krista .et Shannon pour gagner $ 250 de mariage de papier Divas .

Félicitations .félicitations à Katie qui a remporté une séance d'engagement de Julian Ribinik Photographie .

Enfin .félicitations aux gagnants multiples de l' échantillon d'impression sans lunatiques imprime !Les motifs floraux de Marti est un membre de notre Little Black Book .Découvrez comment les membres sont choisis en visitant notre page de FAQ .Floral Designs Marti voir le
III Nov 2014
Her words tumbled
Like leaves binded
With silk and dipped
In milk, frosting at the
Lipstick-kissed rim as a train
Passes by, sloshing about
Metal sticks with red
Tipped points aimed to the sky
And moons forged from
Electrocution and
Flat carpet, sleek
And muffled beneath
The soles of tattered
Shoes, beings,
And the quiet drifts of
Snow that had
Nowhere else to whisper.
Maahum Khan Apr 2015
She was the girl
With her head stuck in the bird cage
She was the girl
Who watched others fly as she stayed on the ground
She was trapped inside her fear
She didn’t know
She couldn’t see
That there were people
Willing to get the key
There were people
Willing to give her wings
She was the girl
That never spoke a word
She was the girl
Who kept her feelings inside
She didn’t know
She couldn’t see
That there were people
Willing to let her scream
There were people
Willing to open her heart and mind
But
She was the girl
Who just wanted to be
For my friend who doesn't know I'm there
.
put me
in
her
box

we feel her wiggle ing

dare you to ask her
how
long
we are

give me
another
grudge kiss
please krista
?

















...
..
.
she prolly
think
pfft
an
...
..
.
Chapter 1
It was cold. Freezing. The first day of the winter chill had started in northern Washington. The sun now hid behind the thick ceiling of clouds as they began their annual snowdrop and the mountains began to howl as the winter winds bared their fangs. Near the mountains was a town with a population of one hundred thousand. The town was officially established in 1840, though a now extinct native tribe settled there long before. Life here was normal for most.
A jog and a stone's throw away was a semi-secluded high school that lay deep in the woods, holding some fifteen hundred students. The gray bricks were reminiscent of a prison, juxtaposed against the walls of towering trees all around it. As snow began to blanket the ground, a single pair of footprints led to the school.

Professor Thompson, a younger teacher, was yelling again, "If I see another one of you punks rolling in here halfway through class, I swear I'm going to make sure you end up living in detention!" Alexei grinned, whispering the exact same phrase in unison with the teacher. The younger members of his "pack" snickered behind him. His group of eight was split between boys and girls appearing between seventeen and twenty. They were a small part of the senior class and had the reputation of being stubborn, loyal, and dangerous at times.

They embraced the reputaion, knowing how true it was. They were Lycans. Shapeshifters. Werewolves. They all meant the same thing. They were descendants of the "extinct" tribe that once lived in the area, though their numbers now were far greater and much more widespread.
When each Lycan turned fifteen, they would have their first shift. They would turn into Dire Wolves, about twice as large as a normal gray wolf.  During their first transformation, instinct would guide them to an alpha who would help them transition to the new life, teaching them how to shift at will and how to survive. Each pack was structured by rank, Alpha, Beta, and Delta.
There were only two Alpha's per pack, one male, one female. They made decisions and guided the newly transformed Lycans. Once a Lycan proved themaelves, they were given the rank of Delta. Their duty was to learn and follow any order to the best of their ability. A Delta could be chosen to become a Beta, either by trial or by challenge.

In this case, Alexei was the alpha and this was his territory.
Alexei stood at exactly six feet tall, was light skinned and was built like an animal, lean and muscular. His straight hair was jet black and ended in a flurry of blood red tips that lay hidden under a heavy black jacket and a hood lined with white fur. His yellow eyes glowed faintly under his hood.

Alexei turned his head slightly to the left, where Hunter sat, or rather slept. Alexei heard his pack mate wake up in a daze and groan, "What? I'm still in class? Man this *****."
Alexei grinned, flashing his long canines and the rest of the Pack laughed quietly amongst themselves. "Alexei... would you mind keeping your cronies under control, please?" His eyes locked onto the professor, their golden glow piercing the darkness of the hood like slivers of fire. The pack immediately went silent.
"Why of course, professor. We wouldn't want to disturb the lecture now would we?" His powerful voice dripped with acidic sarcasm, laced with a deadly seriousness. "Right guys?" The question hung dead in the air for a few heartbeats.
When no response came, he turned his head sharply, his gaze cutting into each of his bretheren. A collection of nervous, 'yes sir, yes alpha' rang out quietly. He closed his eyes and said, "All yours, professor."
Alexei drew a breath and let his consciousness flow towards the group. He felt each of their minds twitch in surprise as he spoke directly to them.
Just bear with it guys, its the last class of the day.
He heard another person's voice flutter into the pool of thoughts. but, alpha, it was Leiks, one of the betas.its snowing... we want to go out.
He growled slightly, just low enough for the Lycans to hear  And you think I don't? You know how this works, Leiks. We have to abide by the Sapiens rules.
Alexei heard her whimper slightly in submission, backing out of his thoughts. Leiks fidgeted in her seat on the back row, looking out the freezing window at the puffy white flakes cascading down around the school. Her blonde hair ended in vibrant purple curls that bounced around her chest. She was the youngest Beta at eighteen years old. Leiks was one of the three betas in Alexei's pack. The longest serving Beta was a male named Chance. He was Alexei's right hand, commanding all of the strength and loyalty as his Alpha. He had the figure of a sprinter, and was the fastest Lycan other than Alexei. His eyes were a very rare violet, further accenting his undercut blonde hair.
The other Beta was a red haired female named Krista. She was one of the oldest of the pack, at nineteen years old. She acted as the peacekeeper of the pack, settling the disputes when Alexei was away on business.

The other four were all deltas, each of them still looking to prove themselves.
Alexei caught a hint of something in the air; it smelled like a sweet musk mixed with crisp apples. The smell sent an icy tingle up and down his spine for an eternity before settling at the base of his neck, making his hair stand on end. He growled softly in his throat, grinning.
Smell something, alpha?, it was Leiks.
Yeah... maybe...
He grinned and felt warm all over. He felt the urge to go wild, to wolf out. Alexei bit his tongue in an effort to calm his instincts. He cleared his mind and closed his eyes, taking one long breath after another before the waves of longing subsided.
Professor Thompson continued with his lecture on mythology, talking about the classic horror creatures like vampires and werewolves. He focused awfully ******* the latter, going on and on about lycanthropy. The professor then began to compare the natures of both species, concluding with a comment on their painful existence.

Alexei bared his fangs in a silent growl, gripping the edge of his desk hard enough to make it creak in dismay. 
He thought to himself, we shouldn't be giving the Sapiens our whole history, even if they don't pay attention, much less believe in us.
Alexei's mind wandered as he pored over the history of his people. He stared down at his hands and he began to think about all of the Lycans that had been part of his pack.
An image flashed before his eyes of a bloodied white wolf lying before him, whimpering helplessly as its crimson blood steamed against the snow. The cries of pain echoed as clear as crystal in his mind. Alexei's own blood boiled as the memory took over his thoughts. He could see blood on his hands, staining the desk. He could see the life leaving the white wolf's blue eyes. He heard the all to familiar laugh echo in the forest. Alexei's heart beat filled his ears, deafening him. He felt nothing but rage as he searched for the killer's face.

His anger lasted only a second before a hand tenderly gripped his shoulder. His eyes flashed open and he bared his fangs slightly. He snapped his gaze over his shoulder at the pack, their eyes wide and locked on him, emanating dread. The hand belonged to Flora, the youngest member of the pack at sixteen. Her eyes were full of innocent fear as she looked at her enraged Alpha. Alexei realized he had partially transformed, his teeth had all turned to sharp incisors, ready to rend flesh from bone. He forced his body to revert back, feeling the fangs retreat. Alexei nodded and Flora let go of his shoulder. Alexei turned and shut his eyes again, his good mood soured for now. He took a deep breath and sighed, wishing for that scent again. Five more minutes...
Those five minutes drug on like a glacier, the professor's words trailing off into the distance as he switched topics. Can he go any slower?
Don't jinx us, alpha, sir. came Flora's response.
You don't have to call me sir, Flora. We're a family.
The wolves stayed silent for the rest of the class, listening halfheartedly to the professor. "As you all know, this is the last day of school until January. I hope you all have some plans, some family to go see." 
He paused for a moment as if to say something else. The professor was looking directly at Alexei, who could feel the teacher's eyes boring into his soul. The bell finally rang, and Alexei was the first one out of his seat, ready to bolt for the door, but a stern voice called his name.
"One moment, Alex. I need to have a word with you." The professor looked directly at Alexei with an iron stare. They stood there for a moment as the others left the room, chattering amongst themselves. All but one. Flora remained defiantly beside Alexei, looking up at him. He looked down at her, his eyes opening with a soft yellow glow.
"Go on, I'll be fine." Flora looked at him quizzically but obeyed.
Alexei waited for the door to close, looking at the professor only after the latch had clicked into place. Alexei smirked and said, "What's up, doc?"
Professor Thompson raked his hand through his hair and removed his glasses. Laying them gently on the table. "I really wish you'd stop doing that. It's unbecoming of a wolf of your stature."
Alexei looked at him and shrugged. "You have to keep up with the times, Tom."
The professor laughed, "What times? The forties?" He walked around the desk and leaned against its front. He sighed and his tone changed, "We may have a problem on our hands, Alex. It's a vampire attack."
Alexei scowled. "I thought you had tabs on all the vampires in the area. As the resident Vampire Lord, it's your job to control them." The professor looked impatiently at the Lycan, waiting for him to finish. "Besides I thought you had them all drinking blood from the hospital?"
Thompson clenched a fist against the table and said through gritted teeth, "My people... Didn't attack anyone. They were attacked. By a Lycan."
Alexei sat on the edge of one of the desks and was silent for a moment. Then, "Please tell me it was just an unhappy accident?"
Thompson sighed and shook his head, "Lycan blood was found at the scene. A trail led to the outskirts of town where we found the unidentifiable body of a half transformed Lycan. Female. We cleaned it up as best we could but you have to understand, my people are going to find out one way or another." He looked intently at Alex, "I'm not accusing you or your pack of anything. But we're going to have a serious situation on our hands soon once the High Courts hear of it."
Alexei sighed and pondered the facts. He tapped a finger against the table repeatedly as he thought. "We had reports of a lone wolf wandering around the countryside. Nothing unusual, other than nobody had seem this particular wolf in nearly ten years. Then all of a sudden she vanished. We tacked it up to misinformation." Alexei tilted his head back. "Last we knew she was outside of my territory, closer to Steelhead's." He paused, "This makes the first death since the interspecies pacts."
The professor nodded, "And that's why we both have to be on our best behavior. All of the Underworld will be watching us now."
Alexei nodded and stood up. "Thanks for letting me know. I'll be in touch." He touched ******* to his lips in farewell and the professor did the same.


As Alexei opened the door, he saw the pack waiting in the hallway just out of earshot. He approached them and they swarmed around him, each of them with a question on their lips. Alexei silenced them with a short gesture and they continued on their way outside. The pack wound through hallways and double doors until they felt the tingle of cold touch their skin. They trailed along behind their leader and burst out the doors, welcoming the frigid air and the soft snowfall they had waited all year for. They hooted and howled giddily, their faces covered in goofy grins and awestruck eyes as they pushed past Alexei and dove into the snow with the other students. Alexei stood there, looking for what he had smelled earlier, for him it was more important than the snow. He scanned the horizon, eyes open wide and searching relentlessly. After a moment, he saw his target, leaning against a tree on the far end of the schoolyard, her fiery hair waving gracefully in the wind. "Jenna."
She winked at him and gestured to her right, where an open forest lay uninhabited. He nodded slightly and made his way down the steps, his heart pounding harder and harder in his chest.
I'll be back soon... Leiks you're in charge.
You okay, alpha, sir? Flora always worried for her alpha.
Yeah, I just need a walk is all.
But... Leiks put a hand on Flora's shoulder and shook her head.
Alexei walked to the edge of the schoolyard and saw that Jenna was already in the woods. Glancing back at the pack, he grinned like a Cheshire cat and chased after her.
They wound through the trees, picking up speed and tossing their heavy jackets away.
Come catch me, big boy. she taunted.

He watched her every graceful move, following relentlessly until he had her. He wrapped his arms around her in a tackle and they rolled, laughing all the while until they came to a halt. Alexei was on top of Jenna, straddling her legs and breathing heavily with her. She closed her eyes and grinned wide, her chest heaving. The air was freezing cold but they couldn't feel it as he leaned in and kissed her, entwining his fingers into her hair. She kissed back and pulled away, biting his neck in the way she knew would make him go weak. Alexei stifled a moan and Jenna felt his muscles quiver. She took the opportunity to push him onto his back and claim dominance over him by straddling him. The heat from Alexei's body made the snow melt and steam below them. He buried his face in her neck, kissing just below her ear. She smelled amazing, the musk of her animal side mixed with her perfume drove Alexei crazy.
He slid his hand under her shirt and felt the curves of her slender body press against him and she growled. Jenna pulled away from the kiss, a grin on her face, "Not yet, darling. There's time for that later."
"I've missed you, kitten."
She growled softly, "you best stop that while you're ahead." She grinned wider and kneaded her claws into his chest. Alexei called her 'kitten' because of her fondness towards cats, specifically kittens.
"Are the others here too?" He pushed her up off of him and stood up himself, closing his eyes in the process. He was referring to Jenna's friends who had left with her a year ago.
"They got here shortly before I did. They're already at the hideout."
Alexei nodded, "We'll be there shortly. Do you want to come with us for the time being?" They began walking back to the schoolyard, grabbing their jackets on the way.
She giggled, "I suppose I should, so they can get used to having two alphas around." Her eyes twinkled as she said it.
Alexei grinned, "I thought it wasn't for another year! Congratulations!"
There was a glimmer of pride in her eyes. "I couldn't have done it without you, darling. They made an exception for me since you had already trained me so well." Jenna had gone to a Lycan Academy farther north, in Canada. There, wolves would be trained to become better leaders or soldiers, depending on their rank. Jenna had shown great promise immediately and was put into higher groups and classes.
The schoolyard soon came into view, and Alexei's pack was still playing in the snow, throwing snowballs and just rolling around in the stuff like children. He whistled a little tune and each of the pack members looked directly at him, going wide eyed when they saw Jenna. They rushed over as fast as they could and tackled her with hugs. "You're back!"
Jenna struggled to get up as a dog pile ensued. Alexei's wild laugh mixed with the cacophony of greetings as Jenna squirmed out. Flora stood behind Alexei, this new person's presence terrifying to her. As the pack got untangled from each other, Jenna walked up to Alexei and Flora, who hid behind him like a cowering pup. Jenna looked at her, "Hey. I'm Jenna, me and Alexei are old friends."
Flora whimpered quietly but peeked out enough so she could get a good look at Jenna. Alexei turned to the pack, saying, "We're going back to the hideout. There's some old friends waiting there for us."

Chapter 2
The pack carried on as usual, sa
Medusa Oct 2018
You're such a kindhearted person.
That's what I like best about you.
You’re  kindhearted.
Rare breed, kindhearted people.


~Krista DelleFemine
Emily Mackenzie Jun 2013
I can't believe you're defending him
I can't believe you're acting like this is okay
I can't believe you're going to let this happen
I can't believe you're going to lose me

I thought you were my ******* friend
Arke Sep 2018
every human being you love
is going to hurt you
every human being you love
is going to leave you

but sometimes, you will find a human
that will heal you, too

- written by Krista DelleFemine, 2018.
find her work here: https://hellopoetry.com/kdellefemine/
Jeremy Betts Aug 2
••••••
Inspired by
Krista Delle Femine
~Still the Fool~
••••••
I always find myself here
With little to no explanation
I'm thinking it's because I elicit fear
They avoid my intensity
Every bombastic and overcharged emotion that overflowes from me
I believe they mean to
But they seem to pull themselves through
It's always something I did
Or didn't do
It's so much rejection
I've lost track of the lesson
It's only humility
And wanting from someone
Something they don't have for me
They often pretend
Put up a good front and deny the lie
I have to keep all of me inside
And leave it for everyone else to interpret what one of my issues it could be
Then it falls on me
Only on me
We don't have to wait and see
What I can't be
Even alone I can't be free
Not really
I'm still the fool writing about this
Letting them live rent free in my poetry

©2024
Inspired by
Krista Delle Femine
Still the Fool
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/4858445/still-the-fool/
Medusa Dec 2020
{inspired by Krista Dellefemine}


I see you carry a heavy metal soul
It must sound like thunder
When the rain comes

You are visible to some, like me
You must know, we walk a long road
Never to get home, but it's alright

Some paths don't lead nowhere
To go on wandering is no curse

I see you carry a heavy metal
Soul

~
https://youtu.be/T_kcquc2fbc
The full film, 1946, "La Belle et La Bete"
By Jean Cocteau

Best part is about 30 minutes into the film.
wes parham Feb 2023
Krista said it well and then left me to tell the tale,
But the point was more elusive than these birds,
That swoop from out the sky of mind
to fall down some deep well.
Well,
The truth is hard to catch just right in words.

If I had half a twenty for all the times,
My words weren’t what I meant,
Or even less…?
Then all the meaning buried,
Beneath defaced US bills,
Would break my heart,
It’d be a ******* mess.

So, heads up poets, final warning,
The reader needs you now.
Best not **** it up, my friends,
And make to them this vow,

Please don’t preach,
And break no hearts,
Try not to show your ***.

Use plain speech,
Put away the thesaurus,
Let’s have a little class.

‘Cause out there words are spoken in vain,
In the smoky air they are forced to fill.
Talking heads make truth seem insane,
Finding meaning takes all of your will.

It’s hard to find the truth these days,
And even harder still…

When dangerous lies are sold as truth,
Common sense can sound absurd.
When empathy and integrity,
Are ranked in second and third…
Then the poet is needed more than ever.
The truth is hard to catch just right in words.
Here’s a clever poem about poetry-making…

If there’s one thing that I cannot abide, it’s clever ******* poems about poetry-making.  
They always feel like masturbatory exercises when we should be writing to capture the hearts and minds of people who don’t even like poetry.  Okay, rant off.
I do kind of like how the meter lends itself to some kind of rambling, Dylan-esque folksy, talking-blues format.

Hello Poetry poet Krista Dellefemine commented on one of my poems, “Loyal Hearts”, saying “The truth is hard to get just right in words”, which became a kind of a suggestion to be a poem in its own right.  I joked that I would do it and, hey, presto!  It only took five years to get around to it.  My inertia knows no bounds.
Mateuš Conrad Dec 2017
i’ve learnt about enough online bullies to bully back

why do people immediately assume that pixel white = talk? where i'm sitting i'm curious: who's talking? must be scary to think pixel white as enough public to equate "speaking"... which it, never was... there's not speaking involved in writing onto this pixel white... if no one owns this space, no one gains from it, and if no one gains from it... then it's just another blank space; play your little hit-le-rs games elsewhere, i do gave the lessons and the gob to answer, but **** me... it's always so ******* predictable, i might as well be talking to someone fixated on watching EastEnders! big shark bite bad... sir just comes short of: are you sure who you're talking to?

if you've asked me to read your work, rather than provoke me... come on! asking is better than infuriating! i know that most people are infuriated at being asked, but not asking is doubly infuriating... i have ample time on my hands and hardly any excursions to bother myself with... Krista, don't read too much into the content without delving into the context, it's not a personal reprimand, or some viability into an answer of an allergy... i can retort to an immediacy of offence being taken, although an offence not being planned to encompass a narrative... so please, have something bothersome to plague me with, like caring to read your work, which i will gladly do, but please remember, the man on canvas is never going to satiate your attempts to reprimand the man due in conversation, sorry to disappoint; my offer is still vacant though.

internet drama**

it doesn't really bother me,
   i'm about to embark on a internet-free hiatus
for a month,
         perhaps it should,
but it somehow doesn't,
    a CSRF hack on my account in place
cross-site request forgery hack is in place,
why should i not be surprised?
all i know is that being reasonable
these days, is to not have an reason at all,
you can be as reasonable as you care to be,
  but madness has been normalised
and by the time we're finished,
the sane will entomb themselves in
the asylum, while the insane will run amok...
   umbrellas upside down
shouting: we're collecting puddles!
we're collecting puddles!
for a straight month i will be clean shaven,
hair trimmed, spending time
with sane, civilised people,
within the confines of the drama
that unfolds between grandfather, grandmother,
uncle, father, mother, me...
          and upon my return,
if the hack is still in place,
   i won't suddenly break-down and
whimper, i'll add a second tier post-scriptum
addition to each, of the 3K+ poems,
and then i'll a third tier,
    and then a fourth...
and perhaps even a fifth if i am
worth the bullshitting material,
  and then i'll revisit the turkish barber
and get a second trim,
    and then i'll watch the day advance
against the wintry night,
and then maybe, just maybe,
make me a snowman...
          the only way this gob is going
to stay silent is if you cut the tongue out,
cut the hands and then gorge the eyes out
with a crow's beak attached to a short stick...
i am well aware of my errors,
  although i am hardly aware of
the errors i perpetrated without being
allowed an explanation...
  there's but one aspect of high school
that i abhorred...
     the "need" for drama...
                    i hate drama...
     as any man would say:
  give me war! but don't give me drama...
              war is every man's mother,
when compared to the drama of having
a wife.
jaded jewellers jam
jesting junior jousts
joists joined joints
jumping jack
jill knelt
knees
knowing krista love
me now oh please
please please
queustions
relevancy
talk two
threes
under
umbrellas
virtualized venom
*******
yielding
z's
Janna jetted
?














...
..
.
her words
are
so
...
..
.
He's weird
I love that
But sometimes
I wanna smack him across the face
He likes it
When I wanna smack him across
The face
His favorite sport is "Krista Eye Rolling"
Extra points if he can get them uphill
But the attention is so cute.    , And thoughtful
Albeit, a little gross
He's an oxymoron
Itchy wool, weaved through soft silk
Grossly Cute, softly Uncomfortable, and sticky sweet
I followed a poet
But her views seemed to shift
We had nothing in common
And I felt the rift
Whenever I saw her poetry
I thought "other people will look at me
And see, I've followed this nutty freak"
I wasn't sure what to do
I didn't want her to get a notice
KRISTA HAS UNFOLLOWED YOU
Richard Grahn May 2017
“Truth can be told in an instant, forgiveness can be offered spontaneously, but reconciliation is the work of lifetimes and generations.” Krista Tippett*

A healer by trade
The best he ever had
“stitches and backbone” was the operative term
Defender, protector, fan, and motto
Holder of the family tree she stood
A hen pecking out her given order
Tough as nails but a curse with vegetables
Pressure cooked cabbage Yuck! Beets. Yuck!
Good salads though
Dad got me eating green beans
Ma kept ‘em coming
Food, family, fun and memories
That’s all we have for now
That’s all we can ever have
Martinis and memories
Mother – I had a tumultuous upbringing to say the least. Mom was a great part of it in her own way. I once had a lot of animosity toward her and blamed her for a great many things. It took a long time for me to realize that most of it wasn’t her fault and that she did the best she could in raising us (me and my brother). We finally had our chance to reconcile and my soul is grateful for the opportunity to do so. Like almost everyone in my family, she is gone from this world. Passing peacefully, she left me only with good (sometimes humorous) memories. Thanks mom.
krista dellfemine

kris tad ellf e mine

hmm
ok
uhm

user name blocked me
unblocked me to comment on my art word

then he reblocked me
this is so we couldn't respond
to her stupidity
encoding
an
village comment

we know you ain't spouse to be mean
sorry daddy this ***** word is gonna pay
?
past that
...
..
.

— The End —