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emmaline Dec 2013
Time is something that is always changing, yet it always moves at a constant pace. My story includes such a small period of time. In one day, there are twenty-four hours, and somewhere in those few hours of January 15th, 2011, my life changed in the blink of an eye. Within seconds, someone I love stopped breathing. It changed everything. But, my story begins a few hours before that.
Wake up. I always have to tell myself to wake up. I wake up and it is a beautiful Saturday. I walk into the living room of my house, where the sun is shining bright through all the windows and I feel like it is going to be a good day. I usually wake up on the weekend home alone, but this time I walk around until I find my dad and my little brother, Phillip.
Dad: “Phillip and I are going to a Valdosta State basketball game later today, if you would like to come.”
I immediately think of my best friend James. James is a part of my family. He got along with my dad and brother better than I did. The basketball game with them would be a lot easier to endure if James went along. He is the older brother I never had.
I pick up my phone and call James, to invite him to join us. He doesn’t answer. James always answers. His phone goes straight to voicemail. I remember a time in the past that I called James with a stupid boy dilemma. James was in the middle of football camp, but he called a timeout. He picked up the phone for me then. I am always James’ first priority, so something seems wrong. I call Drew, James’ best friend, and his phone goes straight to voicemail as well. Something definitely seems wrong. I try to convince myself that I’m overthinking. I always overthink and I always worry too much, so this could be nothing. James is just busy. He’ll call me back later.
An hour or two pass by without response from either James or Drew. As I am cleaning up my room trying to keep my mind busy, I receive a text message from my friend Emily.
Emily: “What’s wrong with James?”
Emmaline (me): “What are you talking about?”
Emily: “I see on Facebook that many people are writing on James’ wall, saying that they are praying for him. Why are people praying for him? What happened?”
Little did she know that I was asking myself the same questions. What in the world is going on!?
Emmaline (me): “Umm, I’m not sure. He hasn’t been answering my calls. I’ll try to find out.”
James was a huge part of the church community. He was the first person that brought me to the church I’ve been attending for the past three years. He was a mentor to me; if it weren’t for James I would not have found the faith that has saved me. After those texts messages, I decided to call someone from the church to see if they knew what was going on with him. Mackenzie answered my call.
Mackenzie: “James and Drew went out duck hunting this morning at a place called Ocean Pond, and James is missing. Drew is fine, but he doesn’t know where James is.”

My heart immediately dropped to my chest. The gut feeling I had been experiencing all day that something was wrong was rapidly increasing, and I suddenly couldn’t keep still.  
My thought processes jumped to visualize duck hunting. I thought, when you go duck hunting, it is a little different from hunting ground animals like deer. When you hunt ducks, you spend the entire time on a boat. You don’t go missing on a small boat. James wasn’t playing hide-and-seek. James being missing meant that he was lost somewhere in the water. The odds weren’t looking very good. Maybe I’m worrying too much, but I’m being rational. Right? I put my phone down and slowly slid out of my chair onto the floor. I lay on the floor for hours, crying. My brother came in from outside and just stared at me. My chest was on fire; I have never felt so much pain in my life. The amount of emotional pain transformed to a physical pain that I felt in the pit of my stomach. The sun that made me happy when I first woke up now began to burn my eyes. I felt like I was sinking, but in reality the only person sinking was my best friend, drowning in icy water.
When I could finally stop crying enough to talk, I call my mom. My mom was not home this weekend; she was at the beach with some of her good friends from college. She did not take the news as heavily as I did.
Mom: “He’s just sitting somewhere in the marsh where the water is really shallow. Someone will find him. He’ll be fine, I know he will.”
I begin to feel somewhat better. I tell myself that this does not have to be a death sentence. James could be fine. I decide to call Mackenzie from church again and invite her and her mom to my house to keep me company while we wait for news.
Hours and hours pass by, yet still no news comes. The church and community decides to hold a prayer session at a local park for all the people worried about James. Mackenzie, her mom and I drive out to the park. Hundreds of people were at the park. All of them were there for James. All of us stood in a circle, teary-eyed, and prayed. I have never seen my community come together like that. Rival schools and teammates, people old, young, and teenage. Teachers, preachers, friends, athletes, fathers, mothers, so many people were at the park for James.
We went around in the circle and each person told their story of how much James meant to them. James was a brother to many. He was a mentor, a friend, a shoulder to cry on, a pal to laugh with. James was the one person that convinced a girl to graduate from high school. James was the friendly face that ate lunch with a boy that was alone and contemplating suicide. I had no idea that James meant so much to people other than me.
All it took was seconds, maybe minutes for James to drown. The water was below freezing. The gear that he was wearing was built to weigh him down in order to be able to wade in shallow waters. In deeper waters, he would surely and quickly sink. He drowned quickly, and within seconds he stopped breathing. However, it took search and rescue a month to recover his body. Days of worry and prayer turned into weeks. I had to return to school and try to go on with my life, as if I didn’t feel like it was all falling apart.

Finally, one crisp February morning, a search dog found my James’ body.

I was in my Advanced Placement Environmental Science class, and my phone rang from a number of different people. I went to the bathroom to return a call and found out that someone found my best friend’s dead body. I knew it wasn’t smart to hold on to any kind of hope that he was alive, but knowing he was actually dead made the situation suddenly very real. I tried to return to class, but I ended up sitting right beside the door, crying harder than ever. I had to go out to Ocean Pond, where I spent most of my time for the past month watching divers search for him. I had to go out there and see it.
By the time I arrived at the site, there was nothing left to see. James’ body had been recovered and I would never see him again. All that was left was a teary funeral, and abrupt good-byes that I wasn’t ready to give. To this day I don’t know how to say good-bye to James. I visit his grave, and I don’t know how to leave the picture of his face.
Losing someone you so deeply love so quickly is probably one of the most excruciating human experiences. I am so thankful that James left behind such a beautiful story, and such a powerful legacy. The first day I met James, he told me, “Hey girl. You know, I love you. I really do. I would take a bullet for you.” When someone says those kinds of things to you without even knowing you for twenty-four hours, it feels strange. But, James knew time meant everything. He knew that all it takes is minutes, seconds, to change someone’s life forever.
The thing that is so astonishing about James’ story, is that he understood how quickly everything can change. When James was alive, a fellow student of his died in a motorcycle crash. James was devastated that he had not reached out to this boy before it was too late. That night, in a note on Facebook entitled “The Clock is Ticking,” James wrote a short paragraph that showed the depth of his understanding of life. He wrote, “Take time to love someone. Today, Tomorrow, For the rest of your life. Because when that unexpected day comes that they pass on, you'll be left wondering what you could've done better. How you could have made them feel more welcome, and show that you do care for them. Don't wait until it's too late like I did. Show the love that Jesus has for you to everyone you see. Let your heart break for what breaks His. Christ is enough. Let Him show you life. You never know who He may touch through you. It is so sad that it takes a tragedy like this to comprehend how our days are numbered. Only He knows. Keep your faith in Him. He will bless you beyond belief. Our job is right now. This very second. So often, God gives me a little nudge towards someone.. and I put it off until the next day.. and then the next and then the next. Stop stalling. God put us on this earth for HIS glory. Not ours.. and so many times, the things I do always point back to me and my stupid self righteousness. So do something with me. Everyone. If this just touches one person, I will have done my job. Don't stall. Judgement is a heart beat away.”
brandychanning Jul 2020
Queens Loves Poets. (for Em MacKenzie)
———————————————————-

Kings love making war,
no wonder, the people,
remember well fond
their femi-mine
rulers with femi-fervor,
Queens, who loved poets.

You fear Jesus,
Adore Mary,
generosity of understanding.
because it is hard
for woman to do
cruelty,
till she has been abused
by men who thought
they were kingly by being
beknighted, unbeheaded
for now at least.

Men who invented Brandy,
in the be of night,
were stupid men,
they forgot alcohol, the
Brandy of Channing,
is not fit for manning,
for it is a

toxin, like me, like me.
Fitz
Fritz
Fido
Sandy
Spencer
Chaplain
Bernard
Jesse
Snoopy
Charlie
Charles
Fred
Freddy
Bones
Remmy
Ren­a
Reno
Tony
Julian
Julie
Frisco
Meghan
Addison
Robby
Buddy
Rudy
F­riedrich
Fredrick
Bernie
Rudolph
Adolf
Ferdinand
Rose
Cassie
Cassidy
Lee
Balto
Little *****
Allen
Alvin
Jake
Demi
Randy
Alex
Richard
Alexis
Kenneth
Ken­ny
Chris
Jose
Josey
Rodger
Moe
Joe
Emilio
Walt
Emily
Emma
Maddie
­Anna
Jafar
Aladin
Jasmine
Genie
******
Amber
Gracie
Ramen
Gordy
G­ordon
Jordie
James
Bucky
Huff
Manny
Sam
Samantha
Mary
Marie
Tila
­Rita
Cathy
Tammy
Mickey
Cam
Amelia
Rene
Jeb
Dan
Bagel
Tommy
Donut­
Bubbles
Blossom
Buttercup
Mark
Cody
Andy
Cristo
Andrea
Whiskers
­Mike
Bill
Billy
George
Geo
Joy
Mitch
Trigger
Tigger
Stephen
Archi­medes
Anya
Duncan
Nitro
Crash
Bub
Crystal
Egor
Bernadette
Cammy
T­immy
Antonio
Natasha
Natalia
Ivan
Abbey
Abdul
Carly
Aaron
Omega
F­inn
Nina
Debby
Tomato
Tabby
Artie
Archie
Noah
Kyle
Alfie
Alfred
Conrad
Conner
******
G­unner
Fry
Fries
*******
Constance
Connie
Frank
Fran
Candice
D­andy
Lucy
Lou
Louis
Quincy
Doogle
Dubie
Dakota
Ace
Casey
Barry
Te­rry
Trenton
Gabe
Laurie
Cornelius
Kabob
Sky
Skylar
Rufus
Louie
Ba­rton
Kimmy
Angel
Capri
Basil
Cy
Ruby
Emerald
Eleanea
Elenor
Barth­olomew
Jazz
Dreamer
Thunder
Topaz
Amethyst
Salsa
Meril
Dodo
Toto
­Eric
Barbera
Hannah
Katie
Zoey
Ben
Pinto
Squanto
Columbus
Columbo
Porgy
Bess
Clark
Savannah
Ken­dra
Marco
Leise
Toby
Trevor
Tresten
Treven
Adrienne
Caleb
Carlyn
­Ricky
Gibby
Donny
Han
Solo
Hans
Gabby
Dirk
Spot
Sebastian
Dee
Sco­oby Doo
Shaggy
Polly
Reginald
Burger
Steak Sauce
Ethan
Bradberry
Lucky
Fergie
Cheese
Boxer
Napoleon
Snowball­
Gerald
Jeremy
Benji
Gemma
Pal
Mal
Preston
Jack
Jackson
Molly
Mac­kenzie
Alexie
Alicia
Dora
Olivia
Salvador
Beast
Beauty
Oliver
Dal­e
Rim
Marley
Diego
*****
Bobby
Ralston
Zeke
Rooney
Plato
Cole
Nep­tune
Sailor
Frida
Rico
Dali
Veronica
Victor
Copeland
Swift
Riley
­Tubs
Lassie
Yo-yo
Harvey
Lemonade
Coke
Pepsi
Tanya
Camille
Token
­Laser
Beam
Seamus
Dorthy
Ian
Moby
Sarah Ramsay Jul 2012
lingering in the unsaid words,
    my soul is heavy.
    i am dragging.

you were diamonds inside your darkness
    and i wish i called.
i wonder, with all of the
           unimportance
      hovering around me,
   as my heart rests low,
              still,
              in the love,
              in you.

did you know?
did you know how much we'd drown?

i'm here for you to haunt.

i'm here,
     always,
         in this heavy air,
             where the birds are so distant
             that they are but a memory,
                                    like those of you.

please,
       please,
              please.

                    oh please,
                            i hope you know.

i'm here.
       so please,
               haunt my lonely soul.
Written June 5th, 2012, in memory of a beautiful soul and an important friend.
DC raw love Dec 2014
We lose so much talent to addiction
Some of you may not care, but I do
This is my tribute to them

Alan Wilson
Canned Heat

Jimi Hendrix
The Jimi Hendrix Experience

Janis Joplin

Jim Morrison
The Doors

Brian Cole
The Association

Billy Murcia
New York Dolls

Danny Whitten
Crazy Horse

Gram Parsons
The Stooges

Gary Thain
Uriah Heep

Elvis Presley

Gregory Herbert
Blood, Sweat & Tears

Keith Moon
The Who

Sid Vicious
*** Pistols

Lowell George
Little Feat

Jimmy McCulloch
Wings

John Bonham
Led Zeppelin

Darby Crash
Germs

James Honeyman-Scott
Pretenders

Pete Farndon
Pretenders

Paul Gardiner
Tubeway Army

Gary Holton
Heavy Metal Kids

Phil Lynott
Thin Lizzy

Andrew Wood
Mother Love Bone

Brent Mydland
Grateful Dead

Steve Clark
Def Leppard

Johnny Thunders
New York Dolls

David Ruffin
The Temptations

Kristen Pfaff
Hole

Shannon Hoon
Blind Melon

Bradley Nowell
Sublime

John Kahn
Jerry Garcia Band

Jonathan Melvoin
The Smashing Pumpkins

Billy Mackenzie
Associates

West Arkeen
The Outpatience

Nick Traina
Link 80

John Baker Saunders
Mad Season


Bobby Sheehan
Blues Traveler

Wes Berggren
Tripping Daisy

Allen Woody
The Allman Brothers Band

Carl Crack
Atari Teenage Riot

Layne Staley
Alice in Chains/Mad Seasons

Kurt Cobain
Nirvana

Dee Dee
Ramones

Robbin Crosby
Ratt

John Entwistle
The Who

Howie Epstein
Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers

Jeremy Michael Ward
De Facto

Tim Hemensley
GOD

Dave Schulthise
The Dead Milkmen

Rick James

Kevin DuBrow
Quiet Riot

Ike Turner

Gidget Gein
Marilyn Manson

Jay Bennett
Wilco

Michael Jackson

The Rev
Avenged Sevenfold


Paul Gray
Slipknot

Mike Starr
Alice in Chains

Amy Winehouse


We are not bad people, we just have bad ways
Yet, not many understand
Have love in your heart for all
We are all one in the same
Mackenzie Ferry Nov 2015
Hush now, my love
Don't you cry
Nightingales sing your lullaby.
Rest now, my love
Close your eyes
Sweet dreams till sunrise.

Oh, my precious one
You're the song I sing
To Heaven above.
Close your eyes
And dream sweet dreams
Sleep now, my love.

--Mackenzie Ferry
                               2/2/2013
I had listened "Noble Maiden Fair" from Brave several time to find inspiration for a traditional lullaby. A relationship between a mother and child.

I want to compose a melody that would sound Celtic-related. I admire New Age songs because every melody a singer sings makes it relaxing, emotional and serene.

This lyric is short and descriptive, but I hope I find a way to make it sound serene as though I would hear it in a forest, meadow, over a mountain, or from the waves of the sea. God, help me.

Believe me, I can play a piano, but it takes a lot of brainstorming and hard work. Plus, I'm an amateur when it comes to reading music. It's like reading a new language. It stresses me out, too.
Joel M Frye Feb 2015
Another evening
darning the hole in my soul
stretched on a dead bulb.
Alexa Sz May 2010
I am the walrus walking, with Lucy in the sky with her diamonds, talking about going to Mr. Kites show tonight and then we'd have dinner at the Octopus's garden in the shade with Father MacKenzie. She said that Rocky raccoon was going to be at the show too and I remembered that Lady Madonna will stay for a bit if she earns enough money. I bet you didn't know that Sgt. Pepper's lonely hearts band will be there to play a bit. They are going to arrive in the yellow submarine with the nowhere man. then they are going to strawberry fields to play. I am going to meet up with them tomorrow at Abbey road and then go visit Jojo with them. From there we'd go to play for the Blue meanies and their bulldogs. What a wonderful place Beatle world is, but I have a ticket to ride the Magic mystery bus back to reality. Too bad I can't stay awhile longer!
the prince Nov 2013
i haven’t shaved in two months. i skipped shaving for one day and then it turned into two months. i used to do things like this all the time when i was a kid. i wouldn’t have time to brush my teeth in the morning on Monday and i wouldn’t end up brushing them at all for two weeks. i just get caught up in routines and then when i **** them up i get caught up in the mistakes. maybe im just really passive. ive been told im too passive before. i just let **** go because i don’t feel like fixing anything that i break.

im not dead though so i figure im doing okay. i kind of judge how well my life is going by how many terrible things just happen in my life. like if i lose my keys or get my pant legs all wet and disgusting in a puddle or if my car stalls it means i must be doing something wrong. i guess i believe in god and i guess i believe he’s watching me and doing mean **** to me whenever i do something he doesn’t like. that might just be self-centered though, to think he’s always got his eyes on me. if anything, he’s got his eyes on the president of the united states or something. there are a lot of people a lot more important than me that god could be watching.

all my friends are in relationships. that’s okay. i guess i just wish i was in one too so that i could understand all the jokes they make. i mean, i get the jokes because they’re regular jokes but for some reason it’s different. they’ll tell a story that’s really funny and we’ll all be laughing but then they’ll start all looking at each other and somebody’ll be in somebody else’s lap and it ruins it. i’m bitter, i guess. i feel a lot older than i am and im kind of worried im running out of time. ive lived alone in a loft for about 3 years now. i’m 24 and i work at a video game store.

i think im less worried about never finding someone to settle down with and more worried about not having a purpose. i used to want to be a writer. i used to be good with words. i used to make people cry when they read the stuff i wrote. i used to be a poet. now the bags under my eyes are so dark that it looks like sleep punched me in the face. i smoke four cigarettes every day.

i think i forgot to buy cigarettes this week.

i’ve been wondering lately if there’s something i should be doing to be a happier man. i have friends, but as aforementioned they are all in love. do you want to know something really sad and pathetic?

there’s a map in my bedroom of the entire world, all the countries and everything. when i first moved in 3 years ago i started putting pins in the map to places i was planning to go. i would get stricken with these weird urges to go to Thailand or mexico or whatever. i would have the plane tickets up on my laptop screen and the whole room would be dark except for that glowing light because it would be like 2:30 in the morning. sometimes i would be drunk. a lot of the times. but after the first few pins i started to realize that i wasn’t ever coming through with this ****. i would keep the plane tickets in a tab on my laptop until i decided to go to sleep, and then i’d just x out.

so i got this brilliant idea to start writing the date and time that i put the pin in. i thought maybe if i saw the days making spaces between my idea and my following-through then i would actually be motivated to do something about it. but now i just have all these dates written in black sharpie next to these big multi-colored plastic pins and it’s just sadder. night time is terrible because the map just looks at me and the minutes will tick by and then all of a sudden it will be that exact time when i first shoved the pin in and i’ll feel like im vibrating and i’ll be thinking “you could do it you could get the tickets now you have enough money you could get time off at work you could do it” and then the minute will leave and so will the feeling. it’ll be replaced with nothing. that’s the worst. i don’t even regret it anymore or feel sad or angry at myself. i’ll just unpause the episode of whatever stupid show im watching or whatever disgustingly electronic song i’m listening to and whatever fluttering eyelash idea that was there will leave again. it’s like having anniversaries all night long, every night.

i’m so happy when i go to bed early. i don’t drink coffee anymore to keep myself from being awake. i try to do what i can to exhaust myself throughout the day so that by 9 or 10 i am tired enough to pass out in my bed. sometimes, when im in a really bad way, i’ll drink a whole lot until i make myself unconscious. i can’t imagine the state my liver is in by now. i do that more than sometimes.

i had *** with a girl last night. i met her at a record store concert. she kept saying my name. i kept thinking about how much i wanted to play the guitar for her while we were *******. it was really strange. i just wanted to play guitar for her so badly. she left in the morning and she didn’t leave me her number in my phone. that, or i just don’t remember her name and now there is a Deborah or a Mackenzie saved in my contacts who i will not call. i listened to her take a shower and thought about how her hair would smell like mine. when she was gone, i got up and i washed my sheets. her smell disappeared and she disappeared. i laid on my back and played guitar in my boxers on the carpet and i didn’t watch my fingers but i watched the ceiling instead. it looked beautiful up there. last year i made all of my friends write words or draw pictures on light bulbs and then i hung the light bulbs from my ceiling. i like them because they remind me that i’m good enough to have a ceiling full of colored light bulbs.

i just miss everybody so much, i guess. i miss when my friends weren’t all in love with each other. ******. i just miss how things were, but i don’t even know exactly what ‘how things were’ means. i miss them so much that talking to them just makes me sad. i guess that’s why i’ve started writing again. because i can’t tell anybody how much i miss them. they would say, “samson, we’re right here, man. we’re here for you. we’re not gone.” and they would order pizza and we would watch movies and they would shove their tongues down each other’s throats while i watched and wished i could throw a white sheet over them like how they do with dead people.

i guess i must have unplugged my digital clock to charge my phone a while ago because its face is just blinking ’12:00’ and so i have no idea what time it really is. my phone is across the room and my bones hurt too much for me to check. i wonder how long it’s been like that. how long its gone unnoticed.

but it doesn't matter. i'm going to sleep.
clmathew Mar 2021
Canoeing
written March 7th, 2021

I have spent the last few days
canoeing the Mackenzie River
making the journey in a book
with maps and words.

As I read it takes me back
to canoeing in my youth
the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness
along the northern border of Minnesota.

I can feel the paddle
pulling through the water
and hear the loons
crying at night.

The land around me
almost untouched since
Huron, Chippewa, Cree
Dakota and Ojibwa eyes
were the only ones
that had ever seen it.

Now I travel in thought and memory
the clear cold waters of the lakes
the portages through forested hills
taking me from one gem
of a lake and a memory
to the next.
Thank you to Mel and Jeff, my pastors in high school and college, who were brave enough to lead a youth who had hardly seen a river or lake on these canoe trips that I still remember today.
David Bremner Oct 2018
I
Ernie struck up his pipes
Ten seconds TOO SOON
And in the wrong millennium

Fiona still had her SKIRT up
Adjusting the top of a nylon stocking
Whilst the KING OF THE JEWS
Left an unfinished drink on the bar
Of the Portland Arms Hotel.

All Hail Jesu, King of the Jews
Striding out through the Portland's door
All Hail George Munro
Best dry-stone dyker in the parish
And owner of a MOPED.

II

The procession moved SOUTH
Across the former A9
Careful never to exceed 30MPH
Fiona didn't go
(Preferring a young stranger's hand stroking her thigh)

Then -                                                                                    
The minister appeared, but.......
DIDN'T BELIEVE
That this was the Second Coming
He stood on the front steps of the kirk
That was now a Cathedral ( Lybster henceforth a SHINING CITY!)
Wishing all a HAPPY NEW YEAR
Including the KING OF THE JEWS
Whom he treated like all others
In true Presbyterian fashion
All Hail Jesu, King of the Jews
All Hail The LYBSTER STONE
Left outside in a forgotten corner
In true Presbyterian fashion

Beyond the Police Station and Primary School
A GREAT BEACON blazed
Lit by two schoolgirls and Mr Marshall Bowman
Pyre for a thousand years
Sinners preheated their teenage **** and middle aged bums at it
The nearby football pitch was illuminated by it
Nobody remembered the forgotten old folk because of it
They held their drinks and met their eyes
And as the procession arrived
Departed for the COMMUNITY CENTRE
A veritable Sodon and Gomorrah (BYOB!)

All Hail Jesu, King of the Jews
All Hail Mr Marshall Bowman
Rm32, Geography Block, WICK - HIGH - SCHOOL

(This part rhymes to appease the DEMANDERS)                        

The hall wis fill wi' yowng and owld
An' packed lek at hid wisna' cowld
Some were timid, ithers bowld
Little bairnies wid no be towld

When the lot hed gethered in
(The fire ootside hed raxed their sin)
They rolled their sleeves an got stuck in
Til grub an ***** an.. well.. ******!

All Hail Jesu, King of the Jews
All Hail Andrew Gunn
Fumbling with a fifteen year olds brassiere
In Donald Eyers' back garden

Jesus turned away from the COMMUNITY CENTRE sinners
leaving them with these words:
The Scribes and Pharisees of LYBSTER COMMUNITY COUNCIL
Will raise here a PAGAN STONE to mark this night
So that Alan Henderson can henceforth
URINATE on it on Gala night
in a political DEED.

And the Scribes took down these words for the minutes
As carefully as I imagined
Taking down the posties knickers.

Whenceforth -                                                                                    
Heralded by three giggling lassies
Jesus entered the great square of the SHINING CITY
Grey's Place
Thst held one butcher shop, two convenience stores
The Commercial Bar and a Post Office
That sold postcards of the harbour
and the Silver Cloud II.

All Hail Jesu, King of the Jews
All Hail the Silver Cloud II
That landed a record haul of 365 boxes
In 1973!

Bare was the square
That lay before the King of the Jews
Only Tony Ryrie's cat Patchy
Moved in its GREAT WASTES
Patch and an empty packet of Salt n Shake
The only witnesses
To the GREAT MILLENNIUM MIRACLE

Whereby -                                                                                  
A shaft of blinding light
Shone forth from the British Telecom phone box
Deflected off the Cathedral weathervane
Up, up (like a great *******) in to the heavens
Where the inhabitants of the moon Titan
Looking up through their dense, noxious atmosphere
Saw this light and sent
INTERPLANETARY FRATERNAL GREETINGS
To their sisters and brothers of Lybster (twinned with Fort Mackinac USA)
That were not returned

All Hail Jesu, King of the Jews
All Hail Johnny Mackay
Envoy from the plannet Titan
to the Court of St James

Jesus was NOT angered by this
For he knew that DEEP inside the people were good
And as Fiona (still in the Portland Arms) dabbed the TIA MARIA off
Her blood red lips
He struck south
Down past Donnie Mackenzie's

All Hail Jesu, King of the Jews
All Hail Donnie Mackenzie
Jannie of Lybster Primary
Pulling out your wobbly teeth in his cupboard
Then giving you a POLO

Until -                                                                                        
He reached the Harbour Road bus shelter
Where a choice was offered
To proceed to the harbour and part the Moray Firth
Or live amongst the lepers
Of SHELLIGOE ROAD.............

III

I was sent to the harbour
To pump the boat
The early morning frost glinted on a half-full Tia Maria bottle
That lay discared on the grass
I pulled the cork                                                
Took a long, sickly draw
                       Then threw it back  

In the SHINING CITY only some things had changed.
Somewhere between
Hunter S. Thompson and
Charlie Mackenzie,
I find myself to be
something
it throws me loops.

Somewhere between
Clark Gable and
Crispin Glover,
I am stuck in
a whirlwind
of perspective.

Somewhere between
Justin Timberlake and
Biz Markie,
I sit silently
wondering how
I got here.

Somewhere between
The Waterloo Bridge and
Westminster Abbey,
an American boy
misplaced
his mind.
I wrote this poem on a bus in London during my study abroad in 2014. I was having trouble finding an identity among the many Londoners who seemed to know where they were going. I was 21 and it didn't seem clear which direction I wanted to commit to or even if I wanted to commit to a direction at all.
Hx Mar 2014
Faded Magnificence.

Faded brush strokes and overgrown pots,
Hint to magnificence lost to yesteryear.
Garments preened and tailored to perfection,
fashioned upon the season to which they adhere.
Scruffy untamed edges gone awry,
A once was glory now hidden beneath the brambles,
scruffy untamed edges gone awry.
Suffocating elegance under weeds and ivy,
despair now heavy on the eye.
The sunny yet sharp disposition of the dandelion,
entangled yet proudly rearing its spiky crown.
Assuming nobility amongst the weeds,
refusing to have its regalia pulled down.
The cobbled path barely visible from the weathered door,
A secret path known only to the past.
The dainty old lady aged and weathered herself,
has given up the ghost, to the weeds which grow too fast.
Her hands tremble as in vain,
she tries to snip and trim.
Desperate measures to regain the beauty from her mind,
with unhelpful uncoordinated limbs.
Each day committed she treads the garden path,
into the gardens midst.
Wrinkled eyes adoring the last upstanding rose,
who continues to persist.
A full can sprinkled each day by trembled wrist,
intent on feeding it with love.
Scarlet periapt resplendence, which once the garden
in its entirety was reminiscent of.
Brambles snag her petticoat,
Tugging at her frail frame in a tug of war.
Yet refusing a helping hand she proudly remembers,
how beautiful her garden sang and the melody of both their core.
The old lady existing for these moments,
to which they are juxtapose.
Existing upon each others love,
the old lady and the garden rose.

©Helen Mackenzie
“This French tickler has tickled freaks in Québec & French Guiana
& on Réunion Island,” ultra-**** singer Gisèle MacKenzie inform-
ed mega-pretty Jack Benny who lived a life of contempt for all girls
unkempt; for pity & starvation; for the ****** clap-trap that's sure
to destroy a large hunk of Warren Harding's freedom-loving nation.
“This French tickler has tickled freaks in Québec & French Guiana
& on Réunion Island,” ultra-**** singer Gisèle MacKenzie inform-
ed mega-pretty Jack Benny who lived a life of contempt for all girls
unkempt; for pity & starvation; for the ****** clap-trap that's sure
to destroy a large hunk of Warren Harding's freedom-loving nation.
Cole Hood May 2016
How come in a world so connected we feel so isolated and disconnected?
I can view maps of China in barley five seconds but we feel uncomfortable trying to learn a lesson.
So lets seek answers and ask the question,
I ask again, how come in a world full of connection you can feel so isolated, depressed and without protection?

Is it our computers and TV screens?
The filters on instagram making everything clean?
Or is it our materialism causing death to our kindness, hopes, and dreams?

What happened to writing, reading, and talking?
Now its DM's, snap chats and secretly gawking.
Kids are gaming and don't get vaccines, more focussed with what's on TMZ, Facebook and memes.

Even with music there are no records, only singles.
In love you don't fall any more, you just mingle.
They would rather have a one night memory and let it pass instead of taking every moment into and album and showing what can last.
No one feeling at home we constantly wander, while many parents don't truly know their own sons and daughters.

What is the point of gaining followers if you don't have a real life?
We are in control of the buck of the knife, but we only cut away the things of emotion in life?
*** can be on the front page but don't talk of depression.
Celebrities are more respected than politicians yet we want their lessons?
We use to idolize Churchill, Mackenzie and Kennedy.
Now its Rhianna, Beyonce, and Yeezy?
Are you kidding me?

How come in a world of connections we have a lack of protection?
In a world of detection we break down and divide into sections?
We all speak of being good and holy but did we actually try or just pretend to learn the lesson?
How come we can talk and meet people all day without leaving our home, but at the end of the day a lot of us still feel alone?
Confusion on humanity and how out of touch we are with each other. The difference between our generation and the ones that came before is and how we effect our own perceptions. Social media actually causing us to loose true friends for cyber popularity.
Em MacKenzie Jan 2019
My demons and shadows are placing bets against me,
black is heartbreak and red is destruction.
They watch the wheel spin so intensely,
holding their breath so strongly that it’s creating suction.
The winner of the jackpot round
will play Russian Roulette with my life,
it’s inevitable, fated, destined and bound,
‘cause I brought a pen to a knife fight.

I’m winning in a debate,
on a topic for which I don’t care,
it won’t change the structure or state,
for a system that will always be there.
Who are we alone? Who are we together?
Drink the marrow straight from the bone,
so you can savour my blood forever.

I lost all faith in my last name,
as a MacKenzie- “I shine; not burn.”
But I feel the heat from the blame,
and the scarred mark I was born to earn.
The funeral pyre is already lit,
the flames flicker and engulf my strife,
I’m too stupid to halt and call forfeit,
‘cause I brought a pen to a knife fight.

Empty hands, and broken fingers,
hanging strands, clings and lingers.
Sunken shoulders, and lifeless eyes,
a name in my folders, alphabetically organized.

You can’t decipher a word’s meaning,
if the word is never actually spoken.
The tree never fell but it’s slightly leaning,
surprisingly roots just can’t be broken.
And sometimes I’m scared to blink,
even though I’m unimpressed with this sight,
I’ll be bleeding out in colourful ink
as I brought a pen to a knife fight.

You know sharks don’t sleep
and sadly neither do I.
But now I’m in too deep,
“you’re gonna need a bigger boat”
just to get by.

You told me to put on my dancing shoes,
and I strapped on two concrete blocks.
You asked me to relay the news
but I went for the thrills and shocks.
Now my oxygen is running low;
my heavy head is finally feeling light.
I’ll still try to give you a good show
but I brought a pen to a knife fight.
judy smith Mar 2017
This year’s WoolOn Creative Fashion event will feature some "exciting" new elements, but they are under wraps for now, organisers say.

The event, which used to be held annually in October in conjunction with the Alexandra Blossom Festival, last year was separated from the festival to become a separate entity.

No WoolOn was held last year and this year’s event had a new date, May 26-27, WoolOn chairwoman Clair Higginson said.

A final call for entries was being made this week, and the closing date for entry forms had been extended by a week, until March 24, Ms Higginson said. Designers then had another month to complete the garments, which had to be handed in by April 27.

Ms Higginson said this year’s WoolOn would be held in a new "industrial-style" venue in Alexandra, but organisers could not yet say where as consents were not in place.

Other "exciting" new elements were being added to the event, but they were also being kept under wraps.

"We’re trying to make better connections between the wool on the farm and the wool on the fashion catwalk. But just how we will do that is going to be a surprise."

Rural Women New Zealand was the new naming sponsor of the event and WoolOn organisers were excited about the partnership, believing it would bring extra focus to the raw product

the WoolOn garments were created from.All garments must be at least 75% wool and there are eight categories in the event, as well as an Under 23 Emerging Designer Award.

The event will still feature a Friday night "First Look" event with a "fashion show feel", and a Saturday gala evening, when winners will be announced.

This year’s judges are Deirdre Mackenzie, of Tauranga, who was one of the people to establish WoolOn in its present format; Simon Swale, a design lecturer at the Otago Polytechnic, in Dunedin; and designer Jaimee Smith, of Dunedin, who has her own fashion label, "Florence".Read more at:http://www.marieaustralia.com/bridesmaid-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/red-carpet-celebrity-dresses
alex Dec 2018
He told me I was his best friend
I’m sure it was just like on campus and I d him he was my best friend which is true like on campus and he’s so kind and sweet and I love him so much
He’s the Jake to my Amy
Kylie said he was Lindsay Lohan and I was his Aaron like right off the bat no question and we’re a pair
He makes me so happy
He wasn’t going to drive but he drove me nd didn’t drink because of that even though I told him we could switch and I felt bad because he had fun at mtsu but he told me it was okay and he kept saying it and I love and value him so much
He dealt with me drunk and he’s so cute
His face is so sparkly
I want to hold his hand
Imagine if I did
I sat beside him on the couch and we were close and pressed against each other and he eventually moved later to another chair and I know that it’s because he didn’t like it but omfg what if he just knows better bc he feels things
I know it’s not true but I’m writing my drink thoughts
I left my gum at Hannah’s house but it’s okay
I had approx 3 cups of wine and a cup of *****/7 up/cranberry juice and half a cup of *****/dr pepper
I love him. I just do. It’s a fact. I’m so fixing grateful that we’re friends.
I’m a *******
“You’re my best friend too, I don’t talk toanyone”
“Really?”
“Yeah”
“Ok ok say it again”
“I don’t talk to anyone”
“No the first thing”
“You’re my best friend”
“*** I love u I’m gonna give u a hug from back here thank you for driving everything and I love u and I’m gonna miss you -“
“I’ll miss you too”
“And just thank you”
That was the convo before he drove away and I went inside and I sent some messages to him and I’m sitting in my cozy room still tipsy and  thinking about him and that’s all

Even sober, I love him more than I’ve ever loved anyone else. He may be it. I sat with him on the couch all night and I don’t remember a lot but I remember us laughing and me looking him in the eye and loving him unconditionally. I felt like we had been disconnected for a little while but I’ll really never stop loving him he’s the Jake to my Amy I’m definitely Amy and he’s definitely Jake and i hope one way we end up with each other sometimes I wonder what will happen after we graduate but I love him and try not to think about it but either way I love him and that’s all.

That’s really all. He’s home safe and I couldn’t be happier. What if he kissed me

What would that be like

I imagined it a lot tonight

I don’t remember much from tonight but I remember looking at him and just loving him. He’s everything to me. I love him more than I’ve ever loved anyone else. I’m going to sleep watching Brooklyn 99 and the fact that he loves this show is so amazing. He’s perfect. I’m trying to stop typing but I can’t.

I bought his water tonight. Didn’t notice until later that he couldn’t drink because he was driving. He had a swig if ***** but didn’t feel anything. I told him I knew he would and he didn’t believe me but I knew he would. Maybe I really do know him.

I wonder if I’ll be hungover probably

Reminder to self look back at messages to Endia kaylinn as Jacob just to make sure you weren’t stupid

I love Endia I’m glad she knows that now and I’m glad she told me she loves me too and I told her that I was always surprised that she didn’t and that she defended it it makes me feel so good to know that she really does value me like that

I’m laying/lying down goodnight I love Jacob and Endia and kaylinn and Kylie and bell and Val and Kyle and Hannah and Evan and Maryellen and Mackenzie and Denee and Jenna and myself <3

My lips are still numb
jcl and others. i’m drunk at this very moment. i’ll delete this later but i really do love him.
Tana F Bridgers Jun 2018
Dear 2020,
   I leaving Old Vineyard today! Therefore, I am feeling like a ten and wanting to jump for joy! I am so excited. I will be able to see Machaela and Sean again! I will be able to watch anime again! And read books that are actually good!
   But... I won't be able to see Harley, Shana, Mackenzie, or Tamia again... You better not forget them, future me! Hahah. I may have some of their information, though. lol.
                                         Love Always, Hollin

— The End —