"madalyn" poems - Hello Poetry

I'm so sorry guys, it seems this is never ending. Here is where I've found new stolen poems http://www.experienceproject.com/ The user is http://www.experienceproject.com/about/marklovescoffe (you may need to create a free account to check his posts) and he's posted Flying Fingers ~ Pamela Rae under I Wonder Who Reads My Stories with no link http://www.experienceproject.com/stories/Wonder-Who-Reads-My-Stories/4785328 Know the Beauty of a Woman ~ Cataleya with no link and not only that, in the comments when he was congratulated for a great write he said 'Thanks mate' http://www.experienceproject.com/stories/Know-The-Beauty-Of-A-Woman/4693147 new link 1 Release ~ POETIC T with no link and his comment was it was from his soul http://www.experienceproject.com/stories/Love-To-Write/4781292 new link 2 I Am A Writer ~ Madalyn Beck no link http://www.experienceproject.com/stories/Am-A-Writer/4631574 new link 3 A Kiss Upon a Blank Page ~ Kalypso no link, comments claim it as his own http://www.experienceproject.com/stories/Kiss-Upon-This-Blank-Page/4577880 new link 4 A Thousand Colours ~ Amrutha no link http://www.experienceproject.com/stories/F-I-Could/4534117 As you can see, I could sit here all night and point out the stolen poems however, I will now just encourage everyone to visit this link http://www.experienceproject.com/about/marklovescoffe join the site (it's free) go to the left hand side menu and click on Stories and see if you recognize your work (you will know the instant you start reading the post!) Then give it to him with both barrels! Like I said in my notes, I'm almost certain they are a member here! Please share! i have edited the links in here because he has changed his user name if you are looking for it, he dropped an e off the end... because we are sooo stupid....

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Sep 6, 2014

Sep 6, 2014 at 3:12 AM UTC

helen

MORE POETRY STOLEN FROM HP (updated ~ a new person stealing our poetry)

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I still haven’t bought gloves, though I had steel-toe boots for awhile. Callouses are waiting for you to lay hands bare to everything you own. You can go years without feeling the bottom of your own table. I moved Dad into his new house. This brings the total to 18 moves in 10 years. Mostly in 20 hour windows. You were around for 7 or 8 of them I read once that most of dust is actually stardust from micro-meteorites. It’s not true. It is actually dead pieces of you. I’ve inhaled more of us than anyone. Item highlights: 250 lb. End table with hidden safe inside Combination: unknown Garbage bag with mom’s clothes and one Phillips-head screwdiver Four landline phones tangled with their cords in a laundry hamper Seven phonebooks in a neat cardboard box Madalyn: Dad still has the small wooden sign you made him the one that says “Dad’s Workshop” in blue glitter-paint. Steve: Dad has recently bought a toaster oven, and he loves it as much as you love yours. He gave me the same speech about the difference in the taste of hot-dogs. You are both still in the pictures at his house. It startles me when your faces appear on the screensaver.

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Feb 22, 2011

Feb 22, 2011 at 3:01 PM UTC

tommy-n

Dear Steve and Madalyn,

I still haven’t bought gloves, though I had steel-toe boots for awhile. Callouses are waiting for you to lay hands bare to everything you own. You can go years without feeling the bottom of your own table. I moved Dad into his new house. This brings the total to 18 moves in 10 years. Mostly in 20 hour windows. You were around for 7 or 8 of them I read once that most of dust is actually stardust from micro-meteorites. It’s not true. It is actually dead pieces of you. I’ve inhaled more of us than anyone. Item highlights: 250 lb. End table with hidden safe inside Combination: unknown Garbage bag with mom’s clothes and one Phillips-head screwdiver Four landline phones tangled with their cords in a laundry hamper Seven phonebooks in a neat cardboard box Madalyn: Dad still has the small wooden sign you made him the one that says “Dad’s Workshop” in blue glitter-paint. Steve: Dad has recently bought a toaster oven, and he loves it as much as you love yours. He gave me the same speech about the difference in the taste of hot-dogs. You are both still in the pictures at his house. It startles me when your faces appear on the screensaver.

29

It was around four in the morning Death tapped at the window, "What do you want!?" "It's well past three you already know this." there was no reply which there is never a reply from Death. I grabbed a cigarette from my bag a beer from the fridge and all the thoughts from my head, I headed to the backyard turned the porch light on and there sat Death I took a seat across from her face pitch black. "What do you want moron?" "You got nothing better to do but to wake my *** up?!" "Dip **** I could still be having some pretty good wet dreams if it wasn't for your dumb *** I lit my cigarette and opened my beer, Death stared and I stared right back. "You have this confidence about you, only if you had a voice your character would have so much more personality." Death stared as I blew cigarette smoke into her empty black face, Cali came and sat beside me I took a big swill of my beer "So Death are we ever going to have a meaningful visit or do you really just have nothing better to do because you are getting boring baby." at that very instant Death rose and her ***** wings ripped from behind her piercing through her black robe and with a beautiful jump she flew away like a swan. "I'll see you later, baby." as I finished my cigarette I couldn't help but wonder about next time. "Shane, who are you talking to?" and just like Death there was no reply. -Shane Book

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Jun 11, 2016

Jun 11, 2016 at 2:40 PM UTC

shane-joshua-baca

Dedicated to Madalyn for all the memories.

It was around four in the morning Death tapped at the window, "What do you want!?" "It's well past three you already know this." there was no reply which there is never a reply from Death. I grabbed a cigarette from my bag a beer from the fridge and all the thoughts from my head, I headed to the backyard turned the porch light on and there sat Death I took a seat across from her face pitch black. "What do you want moron?" "You got nothing better to do but to wake my *** up?!" "Dip **** I could still be having some pretty good wet dreams if it wasn't for your dumb *** I lit my cigarette and opened my beer, Death stared and I stared right back. "You have this confidence about you, only if you had a voice your character would have so much more personality." Death stared as I blew cigarette smoke into her empty black face, Cali came and sat beside me I took a big swill of my beer "So Death are we ever going to have a meaningful visit or do you really just have nothing better to do because you are getting boring baby." at that very instant Death rose and her ***** wings ripped from behind her piercing through her black robe and with a beautiful jump she flew away like a swan. "I'll see you later, baby." as I finished my cigarette I couldn't help but wonder about next time. "Shane, who are you talking to?" and just like Death there was no reply. -Shane Book

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~ Step into the parlor The fires spent, still burn Painted in the faded tint Nightmare shades to turn Broken slabs of conscience Rotted to the core Splintered in a thousand words Never heard before Gears abide the grinding Slapping to the beat Shards of incandescent lights Flavoring the meat Slicing as you swallow Whispering refrains Caught like someone else's fate Filtered through the shame Dressed along the hallway Mirrors shout their fear There among the carpet stains Distant as is near Gasp for all you bother Feast that final breath Blood shall ring the butlers call Long beyond your death

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Jun 24, 2014

Jun 24, 2014 at 5:26 PM UTC

jack-3

Blood shall ring the butlers call ~ A dark one for Madalyn

~ Step into the parlor The fires spent, still burn Painted in the faded tint Nightmare shades to turn Broken slabs of conscience Rotted to the core Splintered in a thousand words Never heard before Gears abide the grinding Slapping to the beat Shards of incandescent lights Flavoring the meat Slicing as you swallow Whispering refrains Caught like someone else's fate Filtered through the shame Dressed along the hallway Mirrors shout their fear There among the carpet stains Distant as is near Gasp for all you bother Feast that final breath Blood shall ring the butlers call Long beyond your death

25

yes, it was January of 98 on some fateful day when she had her stroke, I can still remember the paramedics rolling her away on the gurney. the ambulance the flashing lights the sirens, the despair breeze that blew with the wind. I was 7 she was paralyzed and could no longer speak, the cigarettes fried food bad health old age had finally caught up with her. the next 15 years her life would be of silence, no hope. 15 years no walking 15 years no speaking no adventuring no writing no cooking no story telling no playing no fun, 15 years observing 15 years thinking 15 years laying 15 years sitting 15 years waiting 15 years without her wondering, why. January of 2013 the time came, it was at the Pacific Haven Nursing Home on Trask just passing Harbor right across the street from the 22 freeway. That would be the last night I spent with her as she took her last breaths, as I sat and sipped the snuck in beer, I wept. I held her hand and talked to her for a while, apologized for not being there as much as I should have. I expressed my love and appreciation for all she did while she was in my life, promising her we would meet again. wishing I could hear something back, silence. kissed her on the cheek took my last glance closed the curtains and left just as she did, I was 22 sure do miss you. -Shane Book

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May 21, 2016

May 21, 2016 at 10:48 AM UTC

shane-joshua-baca

Dorothy Madalyn Baca

yes, it was January of 98 on some fateful day when she had her stroke, I can still remember the paramedics rolling her away on the gurney. the ambulance the flashing lights the sirens, the despair breeze that blew with the wind. I was 7 she was paralyzed and could no longer speak, the cigarettes fried food bad health old age had finally caught up with her. the next 15 years her life would be of silence, no hope. 15 years no walking 15 years no speaking no adventuring no writing no cooking no story telling no playing no fun, 15 years observing 15 years thinking 15 years laying 15 years sitting 15 years waiting 15 years without her wondering, why. January of 2013 the time came, it was at the Pacific Haven Nursing Home on Trask just passing Harbor right across the street from the 22 freeway. That would be the last night I spent with her as she took her last breaths, as I sat and sipped the snuck in beer, I wept. I held her hand and talked to her for a while, apologized for not being there as much as I should have. I expressed my love and appreciation for all she did while she was in my life, promising her we would meet again. wishing I could hear something back, silence. kissed her on the cheek took my last glance closed the curtains and left just as she did, I was 22 sure do miss you. -Shane Book

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