There's no one mean as mean Maxine,
She smells like old cigars,
her brain is smaller than a bean,
I wish she'd move to mars.

Some day I'll list the things I hate,
And that is where I'll list her,
I'd like pack her in a crate
Too bad Maxine's my sister.

The special
Agent Fat lip
The Happy Man
1-2-3-4 Cut huge
Lip- 4 Action

TVor RV trailers
Gold finger on his
dinners set
((Step Beyond))
Honeymooners

((Chippendale -Moonshiners))

X-men slip up lip
Love their
ladies lips
4-Max I phone
Late bloomers
Bunked into
God  Amen
Like a rich soul
Tentative I millions

The curiosity
killed the
Old Meiser Goat $
He had
Italian horns
Maxine's lips burned

The Will-Smith
Wild West
College girls
of Sorority

Love of
the Venus
I beg you to
make money
Maxine's lips
of Men to charge
Of Mars money
turned minus
Varsity loves Visa

Max is the man
Going once to
Bottom lip
ten million
Mona Lisa
Multitasking
Never smiling
Secret lips slant
Italiano Piza

So why would she
even
shred his French
lady onions?
The British tea
party
Alice went
money maddocks
Bitcoins bird flocks

Mr. Smart money hand
Why the wrong man
Getting Stuck
Mr. ******* Buck
The Agent double
007
Agency lifted
money 666
Smiles of
sanity  
No-one was pure_
((Olive Oil))
Minds 14 karats
money or nothing

Pots and pans
Chicks 4 free
The Millions of madmen
Cigarette lady revenge
Maxine's lips
was counterfeit
Her biggest fan the
Pure one virginity

Gave her most
freedom serenity  
Dutchess master plan
Gucci men lips
found guilty
Red be hearted
fanlight

Max I-million wanted
to get out of the heat__$$$

His stubborn
partner
in crime big loss
Her vivacious  lips
Tangled web trillions
He was ******
I cannot believe
it's not butter
Spreadsheets

The maid's swept
up the cash
millions went in
her mother's trash

Maximum
Overdrive
Belle Sacrifice
yourself
Respect
yourself
Ringing the
Ben Frankin
singing bell
Aretha
Max line 4 Bella
The lip sign summit
Nickname ****
The Darkman
yellow taxi
Max, I million ended
up in Hawaii
To the max extinct
Nowhere near
basic instinct
Lips leopard impact
Cigarette lady making
Diamond rounds
Bulletproof purse

Max, I million
Explosive words
Is she and his
money
flames

"Unh...This is not like...unh...life as we know it, is it?" - Maxine

I know what you mean, Maxine,
this is not like life as we know it,
but that's only because
life as we know it
is not like
life as it is.

Sometimes I often wonder what life brings
When your heart no longer wants to sing
Some days I think deeply and wonder why
I no longer laugh and all I ever do is cry
Wounds never seem to heal scarred forever
Is this my life for real with no endeavor
I am a pebble on this empty beach
Battered by the waves filled with grief

My crying heart screams out in agony
Sadness what spell have you cast over me
I am a shadow of my former self
Yesterday's happiness sitting on the shelf
I stare off into this night of misery
Will I live again to taste calm seas
Ripples of waves flow to the shore
May I touch love's kiss once more

Thanks Maxine. Maxine is a poet I collaborated with on another site. Maybe she will join here now :-)

You
swept
me
off
my
feet
and
helped
me
walk.

young lovers enthralled
in a passion that can
melt the deepest
Alpine snow cap

announce an intention
to join as one
till death do you part

the elders smile
at the audacity of
your grandiloquent
proclamation

youthful optimism
expressing pollyannish
sentiments born
of wistful hope

yet to learn the rules
of the vows of matrimony
and the endless sweet labor
required  to keep it alive and well

thus i pass on  this sage advice

when the baby cries at night
when the car won't start
when the rent bill is due
and you find yourself
a bit short

i wish you love...

when the cupboard is bare
and the desire to satiate
swelling hunger pangs
is overwhelming

i wish you love…

when you find yourself travelling
through roads that are
unfamiliar and foreboding

when you are hopelessly lost
in the darkest reaches
of the Black Forest

i wish you love…

as you grow as individuals
straining your relationship

when in laws become outlaws
and the pulls and pushes
of family and friends becomes
unfamiliar and misunderstood

i wish you love…

when resentments and insecurities
conspire to undermine trust

when greener pastures
pose a mirage of better things

i wish you love…

when oversight and neglect
leave you empty

when the luster of the
edelweiss bloom fades

when exasperation melts
the Alps greatest glacier
flooding everything you have

when the untended furnace
doesn't fire and the last
log is consumed

be patient
be diligent
be expectant
be kind

hold on to it
believe in it
practice it
trust it

may it bind you
in a perfect circle

and all your fondest
hopes and wishes
will be yours

i wish you love…

Stevie Wonder
Signed Sealed Delivered

Salutation for
Engagement Party
Maxine Lintel and
Glendon McCallum
Munich
11/29/13
jbm

I have never felt as close to you as when home died holding my hand
Amidst flannel sheets and goose down comforters
Your memory waded through the Pacific to me
Finally finding the truth in absence

It ******* hurts

Murky skied nights write poems in dark water
Leaving the stars to fend for themselves
Like orphaned children waiting for death to spin the wheel backwards
Trick time to get one more day

There were twenty women and fourteen men
From the wreck on that tiny spit,
Lost in that mighty ocean, just a
Mile was the most of it,
There were pigs galore from a previous crew
Who’d been wrecked some years before,
And plenty of veg, they fished from a ledge
Jutting out, and over the shore.

So in time the fourteen had paired them off
And it left, forlorn, the six,
There wasn’t a single partner left
For the girls to scratch their itch,
So they huddled up and began to plot
How to thin out the ranks of those
Who took up the men that were meant for them,
They started by shedding their clothes.

There were naked ******* that they thought would test
The men in the rival camp,
Would lure them off in the undergrowth
To lie where the earth was damp,
And it worked for some, though the men returned
To the partners they chose before,
‘The only way that they’re going to stay,’
Said the six, ‘is to go to war.’

Charmaine was found in a grove of trees
With her face, all covered in blood,
And Derek didn’t seem too displeased
He latched onto Maxine Flood,
But the thirteen said, her blood was red,
And they looked askance at the five,
‘We need to arm, and raise the alarm
If we’re going to stay alive.’

But a dozen died in the camp that night,
The soup had given them cramps,
Eleven woman had taken flight
And the one old man, called Gramps,
That left a surplus of thirteen men
And the women numbered seven,
‘There’s not enough to go round,’ they said,
But the women were in heaven.

The six bereft of the men were left
To mumble and scheme and plot,
‘We need to **** at least six of them,
Whether we want, or not!’
So late at night in the pale moonlight
There were shadows abroad in the trees,
And before the dawn, the six had gone,
Beaten down to their knees.

There were six and six, you would think it fixed,
In a year they’d be in hell,
For two of the girls lay down, were nixed
Gave birth, in a winter spell,
The men denied said they had their pride
And attacked their mates of yore.
But somehow managed to **** all three,
So now there were three and four.

‘We’ll keep the fourth in reserve,’ they said,
‘In case of a sudden death,’
But Maxine Flood was in no such mood
Though she sat, and she held her breath,
They made her fish and they made her cook
While she worked upon her wish,
And when just one of the men was gone
She fed them puffer fish.

‘Now there’s only you, and there’s only me,’
She called, when he wandered back,
Staggering into the camp, he said,
‘I’ve been in a shark attack!’
His arm was missing, he bled right out,
And died in front of her eyes,
While Maxine Flood had rolled in his blood
And cried to the empty skies.

David Lewis Paget

19/4/13 12.01am

Like fragile bubbles, children fly
so swiftly as we set them free
between the earth and cloudswept sky
with colours swirling magically.

I watched my sweet boy go to war
so sad-eyed, in his uniform
his colours darker than before
like greying clouds before a storm.

Go carefully into the fray
beloved boy, return to me
all I can do is wait and pray
as once again, I set you free.


Inspired by a scene from BBC1's The Village, in which Joe (Nico Mirallegro) was about to return to
the front line in WW1 and his mother Grace (Maxine Peake) had been showing very poignant hints of
the fear she felt for his survival in the trenches.

I am scared!
Scared of this world

Robert Godwin Sr
Alyssa Elsman

How many more have to die?
By my kind,
By their kind,
Because they blame some other kind
What ever happened to just being
kind?

Daniel Parmertor, Russell King, Jr., Demetrius Hewlin

Where were you when the World Trade Center went down?
It’s something everyone alive then will always remember
Never Forget! was our brand motto for American Pride

Krystle Marie Campbell, Lü Lingzi, Martin William Richard, Sean A. Collier, Dennis Simmonds

And now, the death of another is so commonplace
That we forget what and where.
It’s no longer personal enough to register where in our lives that it struck us
Only note that another life has been struck down
Add another tally to the equation
And still it does not add up

Trayvon Martin
Tamir Rice
Samuel DuBose
Delrawn Small
Philando Castile
Terence Crutcher
Heather Heyer

We are completely desensitized
And decentralized
We keep ourselves disconnected
(because we just can’t absorb,
Take,
Process it all)
It’s not us
It’s not me
It’s somebody else
Somewhere else.
Until it is
Then we care
How much can we take, before we break

Cynthia Marie Graham Hurd, Susie Jackson, Ethel Lee Lance, Depayne Middleton Doctor, Clementa C. Pinckney, Tywanza Sanders, Daniel Simmons, Sharonda Coleman Singleton, Myra Thompson

The tragedy is the comedy
We laugh so we don’t cry
Sakia Gunn
Richie Phillips
Nireah Johnson, Brandie Coleman
Glenn Kopitske
Scotty Joe Weaver
Jason Gage
Michael Sandy
Sean William Kennedy
Duanna Johnson
Lawrence "Larry" King
Angie Zapata
Lateisha Green
****** August Provost, III
Mark Carson

I can’t say I’ve never thought of committing violence.
Hell, when my ex-wife cheated, it occurred to me
And I can’t say that I have never hit another
I’ve been a kid
My whole life is designed just to grow up
But, I’ve thought of killing myself far more often than the thought to harm anyone else have ever occurred to me
Because my problems are mine;
My fault,
And I am not seeking some scapegoat

Keenya Cook, Jerry Taylor, Million A. Woldemariam, Claudine Parker, Hong Im Ballenge, James Martin, James L. Buchanan, Premkumar Walekar, Sarah Ramos, Lori Ann Lewis-Rivera, Pascal Charlot, Dean Harold Meyers, Kenneth Bridges, Linda Franklin née Moore, Jeffrey Hopper, Conrad Johnson, 1 unnamed victim

I am not going to deny that being a white male hasn’t allowed me to sidestep a whole level of *******
One day, angry white males will be the minority
And we’ll have no one left to blame, but ourselves.
If we don’t **** everyone first
If we don’t **** ourselves first

Michael Arnold, Martin Bodrog, Arthur Daniels, Sylvia Frasier, Kathy Gaarde, John Roger Johnson, Mary Francis Knight, Frank Kohler, Vishnu Pandit, Kenneth Bernard Proctor, Gerald Read, Richard Michael Ridgell

Jonathan Blunk, Alexander J. Boik , Jesse Childress, Gordon Cowden,
Jessica Ghawi, John Larimer, Matt McQuinn, Micayla Medek, Veronica Moser Sullivan, Alex Sullivan, Alexander C. Teves, Rebecca Wingo

The earth has already decided that we are a plague upon it
Maybe climate change is the natural response to the abuse of our gifts

Nancy Lanza, Rachel D'Avino, Dawn Hochsprung, Anne Marie Murphy,
Lauren Rousseau, Mary Sherlach, Victoria Leigh Soto, Charlotte Bacon, Daniel Barden, Olivia Engel, Josephine Gay, Dylan Hockley, Madeleine Hsu, Catherine Hubbard, Chase Kowalski, Jesse Lewis, Ana Márquez Greene, James Mattioli, Grace McDonnell, Emilie Parker, Jack Pinto, Noah Pozner, Caroline Previdi, Jessica Rekos, Avielle Richman, Benjamin Wheeler, Allison Wyatt

What is this world going to teach my son?
That he’s better because of how he looks?
Or what I’ve taught him:
You make yourself better.

Jamie Bishop, Jocelyne Couture Nowak, Kevin Granata, Liviu Librescu,  P
G. V. Loganathan, Ross Alameddine, Brian Bluhm, Ryan Clark, Austin Cloyd, Daniel Perez Cueva, Matthew Gwaltney, Caitlin Hammaren, Jeremy Herbstritt, Rachael Hill, Emily Hilscher, Matthew La Porte, Jarrett Lane, Henry Lee, Partahi Lumbantoruan, Lauren McCain, Daniel O'Neil, Juan Ortiz, Minal Panchal, Erin Peterson, Michael Pohle Jr., Julia Pryde, Mary Karen Read, Reema Samaha, Waleed Shaalan, Leslie Sherman, Maxine Turner, Nicole White

I work as a data analyst
So, I ran the numbers
But, these are more than numbers
These are people: sons, daughters, sisters, brothers, mothers, fathers, husbands, wives, friends, lovers.

Stanley Almodovar III, Amanda Alvear, Oscar A. Aracena Montero, Rodolfo Ayala Ayala, Alejandro Barrios Martinez, Martin Benitez Torres, Antonio D. Brown, Darryl R. Burt II, Jonathan A. Camuy Vega, Angel L. Candelario Padro, Simon A. Carrillo Fernandez, Juan Chevez Martinez, Luis D. Conde, Cory J. Connell, Tevin E. Crosby, Franky J. DeJesus Velazquez, Deonka D. Drayton, Mercedez M. Flores, Juan R. Guerrero, Peter O. Gonzalez Cruz, Paul T. Henry, Frank Hernandez, Miguel A. Honorato, Javier Jorge Reyes, Jason B. Josaphat, Eddie J. Justice, Anthony L. Laureano Disla, Christopher A. Leinonen, Brenda L. Marquez McCool, Jean C. Mendez Perez, Akyra Monet Murray, Kimberly Morris, Jean C. Nives Rodriguez, Luis O. Ocasio Capo, Geraldo A. Ortiz Jimenez, Eric I. Ortiz Rivera, Joel Rayon Paniagua, Enrique L. Rios Jr., Juan P. Rivera Velazquez, Yilmary Rodriguez Solivan, Christopher J. Sanfeliz, Xavier E. Serrano Rosado, Gilberto R. Silva Menendez, Edward Sotomayor Jr., Shane E. Tomlinson, Leroy Valentin Fernandez, Luis S. Vielma, Luis D. Wilson Leon, Jerald A. Wright

I did research to try to find all the victims since I became abruptly aware 16 years ago
There are too many
I could not discover a single database that contained a comprehensive record
No one can keep track of it anymore
I know I’ve missed people
I know there are 1000’s of people now missing people
Even 1 was too much

Hannah Ahlers, Heather Alvarado, Dorene Anderson, Carrie Barnette, Jack Beaton, Steve Berger, Candice Bowers, Denise Salmon Burditus, Sandra Casey, Andrea Castilla, Denise Cohen, Austin Davis, Virginia Day Jr, Christiana Duarte, Stacee Etcheber, Brian Fraser, Keri Galvan,  Dana Gardner, Angela Gomez, Rocio Guillen Rocha, Charleston Hartfield,  Chris Hazencomb, Jennifer Irvine, Nicol Kimura, Jessica Klymchuk, Carly Kreibaum, Rhonda LeRocque, Victor Link, Jordan McIldoon, Kelsey Meadows, Calla Medig, James ‘Sonny’ Melton, Pati Mestas, Austin Meyer, Adrian Murfitt, Rachael Parker, Jennifer Parks, Carrie Parsons, Lisa Patterson,  John Phippen, Melissa Ramirez, Jordyn Rivera, Quinton Robbins, Cameron Robinson, Lisa Romero Muniz, Christopher Roybal, Brett Schwanbeck, Bailey Schweitzer, Laura Shipp, Erick Silva, Susan Smith, Tara Roe Smith, Brennan Stewart, Derrick ‘Bo’ Taylor, Neysa Tonks, Michelle Vo, Kurt Von Tillow, Bill Wolfe Jr.

and NOW I’ve run out of lines and time to read off all 2,977 people who died in 9-11
Isn’t that a tragedy?

This morning it rained like hell,
In the hard pouring rain, I almost slipped and fell,
It was dark and wet outside,
In my house, I really couldn’t tell,
I had no umbrella, so you know I was *******,
The mud and the heavy rain I had to step foot through,
Me and little Maxine stood in the rain like too fools,
Until this lovely young lady offered for us to stand on her porch, under her roof unti the bus came,
Soon, the bus came and me and Maxine ran across the street to our own bus stop with our book bags over our heads,
Besides, Maxine didn’t have on a jacket

inspired by the performances of Maxine Pearce & Nico Mirallegro in BBC1's The Village,
this is from the point of view of a mother to a son who has to go to war*

01.20am, 30/4/13

Wherever life may send you
However far away
May light beings befriend you
Angels, to light your way

Four angels for protection
To guard the path ahead
Three more for introspection
To drive out fear and dread

May archangels placate you
And sanctify your dreams
May love illuminate you
However dark life seems.

Wingbeating high above you
To guide you on your way
The angels and I love you
A little more each day.

Comment est ce pour le début parfait à votre mardi?Uber - magnifique détails .les murs du Belmont Center et une robe BHLDN qui vous coupera le souffle briques apparentes .Un combo assez étonnant .non?Eh bien.c'est exactement ce que nous avons pour vous aujourd'hui.un amour - fest romantique conçu par Sara Gillianne Mariages \u0026Événements et capturé en belles images par Jessi Field.Voir tous ici .\u003cp\u003e

un film fou frais de

http://modedomicile.com

chrisdscott Photographie ?Oui robe ceremonie fille .s'il vous plaît.S'il vous plaît mettre à jour votre browserColorsSeasonsFallSettingsUrban SpaceStylesRomanticRustic Elegance
" La maison est où notre amour réside ; Quatre murs .deux coeurs . "

Cela a commencé comme un simple vision dans ma tête .comme je l'imagine la plupart le font .Il est spécial pour moi que parce que mon inspiration robe de mariée courte vient de ma propre relation .Comme une famille de militaires .nos racines sont là où nous avons planté nos pieds .Cela change souvent dans cette situation .Accueil devint où nous nous sommes retrouvés .aussi longtemps que nous étions ensemble .C'est cette notion romantique qui m'a gardé à la terre et est le même que celui qui a inspiré ce tournage .Parfois .tout ce que vous avez vraiment besoin est amour robe ceremonie fille ( et quatre murs ) pour être vraiment «maison».

L'équipe réunie pour ce tournage était tout simplement incroyable .C'était comme des étoiles alignées et tout était comme nous l'avions espéré dans le processus de planification .

Ce tournage était vraiment un rêve devenu réalité pour moi .et j'aime que j'ai eu l' occasion de montrer notre talent local.

Photographie : Jessi Field | Cinématographie : chrisdscott Photographie | Conception de l'événement: Sara Gillianne Mariages et Evénements | Fleurs : Supposey florale de mariage | robe : BHLDN | gâteau de mariage: Kiley Sellette | Réception Lieu: Le Centre Belmont | Maquillage: SarahPeake | cheveux : Maxine Lyvers | Articles faits à la main : Déclarations YOUnique | Hommes : Tenue de soirée de Gent | Modèle: Haven Turner | Modèle: Landon Tewers | Locations Vintage : hemstitch Location de cruBHLDN est un membre de notre Look Book .Pour plus d'informations sur la façon dont les membres sont choisis .cliquez ici

well
look over yonder
there's
miss daisy
wearing that same old
red and white
polka dot dress
looking like
them
big Jersey cows
oh yeah
that
big old heifer
stronger than a blue ox
well
i
saw her
wrestle 6oo lb alligator
and
knock out
a full-grown bull
oh hi... miss daisy
well
i
saw her scratching
her big old behind
on an old piece of tree stump
while
strolling up
the
old dirt road
go to
the
big church house
for
choir practice
with
church lady
sister Maxine Gwendolyn Brooks
anyway
miss daisy
knows
deep down
in
her
heart of hearts
that
she
going straight to heaven
like seven eleven
when
she says
i
am
goin' up yonder
and
up over
them hills

The new ruse: presidential psychosis
an impartial and swift diagnosis
as you trump-up the charge
but the sign is writ large:
twenty-twenty TRUMP/PENCE the prognosis.

Corrupt psychiatric inspection
serves to further a facile detection:
presidential unfitness.
(But God is our witness;
you're mad 'cause you lost the election.)

As you slander the president's sanity
you exhibit your own inhumanity.
I would urge all you losers
and lying accusers
to listen to Savage and Hannity.

In your desperate drive to impeach
you would grasp what is out of your reach.
The infernal machine
steered by crazy Maxine
makes a nasty mechanical screech.

The Democrat narrative flounders
while our nation's own hateful confounders
promote red revolution
mob-rule as solution
insulting the faith of the Founders.

Though the state-sponsored media lie,
our beleaguered republic must try
to transcend inhumanity;
quell the insanity.
(Both wings are needed to fly.)

The huge container of glue had emptied onto the ground nearby my desk. Now, I didn't get to see how it happened until it hit the floor but it looked like Chloe's arm must have knocked into it somehow. White goo bled out from the open container like syrup, traveling at the speed of a snail in the middle of a marathon.

"Oh no." Chloe yelped, plopping herself down to the floor with paper towels.

Her eyes grew to the size of saucers once she gazed up into the resting ***** face of Mrs. Hoiga, who raised her eyebrows as she walked onto the crime scene. The bun on her head always seemed so tight, showing off too much forehead. As for Chloe, she was frozen in place as she looked up at Mrs. Hoiga with a huge glob of Elmer's glue stuffed in a paper towel.

"What happened here, Chloe? Why is there glue all over the floor?"

Chloe and I made eye contact for a split second, which made Chloe ramble out, "I-It was Max. She spilled it."

The entire class gave their full undivided attention to the current situation, making me tense up immediately once I heard Chloe blame me. Everyone knows Chloe is a trouble maker, but she's never called anyone out for things she's done. Ever.

I pretended the entire class was just non-playable characters in a video game soundlessly waiting to see what developed. My body shrank down to the size of a pinto bean as Mrs. Hoiga hovered over me threateningly, crossing her toned arms.

"Is this true, Maxine? Did you spill Chloe's container of glue?"

My body seemed to shrink even smaller, if that was even humanely possible. I began to say no, but then I noticed Chloe silently crying beside the growing puddle of glue. A burst of sympathy rushed through me as I said, "I'm sorry. I'll clean it up right away."

I ignored the looks of pity my classmates were giving me as they exited out the classroom for Lunch, using the mop the janitor handed me to completely sanitize the floor from any glue residue. While the teacher hovered outside the door talking to another teacher, I pretended the mop was a pirate sword and started swiping the air with the wooden end of the mop. Then I pretended a pirate appeared in front of me, holding my parents hostage.

"Die, evil scoundrel! I'll take me pirate ***** back, if you don't mind. And my ship." I mumbled quietly to myself, stabbing the captain in the chest with the wooden sword, and watched as he sank into the ocean depths. "At least my parents won't be mad at me now since I saved them from the evil Captain Hook."

"Are you done, Max?" Mrs. Hoiga appeared behind me almost abruptly, making me flinch.

"Yeah. Um, can I eat Lunch now?"

"Tell me something then." She placed her hand on Chloe's desk, and stared over at me with a small smile. It was one of the few times I've ever felt my shoulders relax around her. "I have this feeling that you didn't spill the glue from earlier. Were you trying to take the blame for Chloe or something, Max?"

"No. I-I mean, i-it was just a terrible accident."

"Oh. I was hoping you could be a good influence in Chloe's life, since she is a big trouble maker."

Mrs. Hoiga broke eye contact with me immediately after finishing her statement, and started scribbling out a clean sentence out onto the chalkboard. My task was to write her sentence down twenty times down the page as my punishment while I dug into my prepared lunchbox: "I must not use other student's items without their permission."

Once I held up the paper towards Mrs. Hoiga, she snatched it out of my hand resuming her normal ****** attitude. "I won't tell your parents what happened, but let's not have this happen again, alright?"

"Okay."

That seemed to be the last conversation I was going to have at school. Or so I thought. On my way out through the double doors, I slammed into another student who dropped their half-zipped up binder spilling the majority of the contents inside out. Folders, graded papers, homework, pens, and a pencil pouch coated with stickers.

“I’m so sorry. I really am.” That’s when I realized it was Chloe who I bumped into, and I started gathering her stuff for her in a seemingly awkward lapse of silence that followed her statement afterwards. “I didn’t mean to throw you under the bus like that. That was wrong.”

When Chloe looked up at me, her frown seemed to deepen. “It’s okay. Thank you for apologizing.”

I noticed her notebook laying open with a crayon-based sketch of a butterfly on one of the pages when she quickly closed it. Her face reddened as she stuffed it into her polka-dotted backpack. “We’re neighbors, yet we’re already getting off on the wrong foot.”

“I consider us friends.” I said, walking out to the front of the school with Chloe lagging behind me by several feet. “Come on, I wanna show you this spot I found before your parents come to pick you up.”

“Well…I guess I have time.”

I roped my arm through Chloe’s, and our footsteps naturally synchronized as we walked over to the outdoor garden area within the school ground with the large red bench centered in the middle. Flowers and bushels blossomed here, giving this place a more intimate vibe. “Woah, this is so cool.”

“Some of the staff eat lunch here, but I sneak over here to wait for my parents to pick me up in this spot. I can never sneak into this area whenever it comes time for lunch.” I perched down on the seat while Chloe settled for the top of the bench as her chair. “Chloe, what are you doing?”

“Taking a seat. Have a seat by me. If we’re gonna do this, we might as well enjoy it while we still can.”

“Nobody has ever found out about this place…besides me.”

Chloe stared at me with this strange expression. I couldn’t pick a good word to describe the complicated emotion that ran through her face, but it was like she was trying to hide the fact that she was startled. Then she rummaged through her bag before plucking out the notebook I found earlier.

“Nobody has ever found out about the doodles that I draw. At least, until you came along.”  

There were drawings inside of what looked to be butterflies, birds, and moths. And for a six year old, she wasn't half-bad. “Why is it all doodles of winged animals?”

“I want to be able to fly. That’s what I want my super power to be.” Then Chloe smiled for the first time towards me, and it was almost like I was being drawn in captivity with this girl. There's something about her that gives me the feeling that she's going to change my life drastically.

The moment ended with my Dad's car honk nearby the garden. "I have to go."

"Hold on."

Chloe ripped out one of the crayon doodles in her notebook, folded it up, and placed it in the palm of my hand. "I want you to have this as a commemoration of our new friendship. I hope you'll take it."

"Of course, Chloe."

Feeling like I was running through clouds, I dashed towards the source of the car horn to see my Dad grinning over at me as I jumped into the passenger seat of his truck. "Hey, kiddo. How was school?"

I craned my head to see Chloe waving wildly at me as she walked over towards a beige-colored van with a handsome blonde-haired guy saying something to Chloe in the vehicle. "It looks like something happened at school today. Care to tell your old man about it?"

"I made a new friend. You know Chloe Price, the girl who lives next door?"

"Your Mom talks to Joyce and William Price more than I do. Unfortunately, I don't know a lot about Chloe besides the fact that she's a little bit rebellious. Promise me you won't turn out the same way."

"I won't. Promise."

We settled into a comfortable silence, a country song softly humming through the stereo in the car. It was a moment later when I unfolded the contents of the ripped notebook page slowly. The picture Chloe handed me was nothing other than a crayon-based sketch of a blue and purple colored butterfly.

John David Washington Ave.

Suspended.
It tastes like violet.
Cloudy.
Renaissance and headed towards.
The Maxine.
Mountain only spitting globes.
Of parted jacket.
Faulty.
Leaving electric glass behind.
Though it's eyes.
No weaving of inner fuchsia.
Collected, only slept in yesterday's clothes.

Garrett Johnson.

they always said writing would help
and it does
but i'm not talking to you
i'm facing a piece of paper
which starts me off somewhere...
so dear dad,
how have you been?
still sober?
still raising her children?
still blaming all of your life's misfortunes on me?
how am i doing?
i'm doing alright
i get sad at night
when i'm alone
and i think of all the things you've said
and then everything is piled up in my head and i can't hear anything but your voice
your coy, manipulative, voice
if only you would have known how wrong you were
when you said i'd never make it in the real world
or find somebody to love me
or be happy
you see, i listen to the songs we used to listen to in the car while i drive
but at least i'm driving
and when i lay in my girlfriend's arms i get scared of how vulnerable i'm being
but at least i don't have a wall up
and i still hurt myself in more ways than one
but at least it's not as bad as it was
and i still see your face when i look in the mirror
but at least i have individuality and i'm molding myself to be better than you
and i still think about the night that i was assaulted in your home, and i know you heard me scream "NO, NO, NO"
but at least i still have respect for myself
and i still ponder on the thought of ending my life whenever i remember you handing me your pocket knife
but at least i'm still alive
and i still think about when you said i'd never have friends and i'd be all alone once i was dead
but at least i make a social effort
while you don't speak to your children
and granted i don't make an effort to speak to you
but it's because you are wrong
in every thing you say
and in every thing you do
you are wrong
in the way that you laid your hands on me
or in the way that you watched as so many others did
you are wrong
in that i am alone
because i am not
you are wrong
in that i'll never find happiness
because for once in my miserable life i realize when the sun is shining and the birds are chirping
you are wrong
when you say that i'm going to hell for loving
because right now i feel like i'm in heaven
you are wrong
when you say that no one will ever love me like you
because i now know that a father doesn't treat me like you
but at least...
i know you are wrong
and that is all of the gratification that i need to be done with you and this letter
so i sign this saying, you are wrong, but at least... i am strong.
- Maxine

Haunted by hate of your president,
you froth as you rage like a demon;
setting a dangerous precedent
urged on by the likes of Don Lemon.

Your sinister soul is now evident
and the hatred you spew is obscene.
You have swilled, with the thirst of a malcontent
vicious words from the well of Maxine.

You're possessed now by hate of your president,
while the minions are taken to task;
you dismiss every mob as a non-event—
but we see you behind the dark mask.

My Friend.. Written by Maxine Lawler

A Poem a young lady wrote about myself
a long time ago ..

He only knew me through the words I wrote
That's how others would only see~
They would not understand the importance
Of what he really means to me~
Dreams are now coming true
Thanks to a distant friend across the miles~
An open mind a caring heart
He makes my world full of smiles~
Ive never really been so very open
Until his letter came that day~
He was like an angel sent
To help me upon my way~
A new found friend a *** of gold
Brighter than the rainbow color~
He's perfection inside my heart
So special like no other~

Written By Maxine Lawler
copyright 1990

( If your out there little one .. I do sincerely
hope that you are still as happy and well )
Your friend Always ..
Terry .

I don't have much to offer, no money in the bank,
Barely have enough to put gas inside my tank.
Seems every time I gather, a 'savings' in some way,
Something always happens to take it all away.
I don't drive a fancy car, it would not turn your head,
It’s only a rollscanhardly  no further words need said.
Seems every time I drive it, another piece falls off,
And every time I start it, it sputters and it coughs.
Seems every time I make a move, I get rid of more and more,
The things I don't want to carry with me through the next door.
But this I say while traveling light these things I don't desire,
For excess money will only serve to fan the demon fire,
The place in which I lay my head, is with Maxine my wife.
She creates more than I can say and brightens up my life.
It's not all of the treasures that you build upon this earth,
That brings a person happiness, and feelings of self-worth.
It's living life the simple way and helping when you can,
Do what you can for others, be it woman or a man,
Share what you have inside you, be gentle and be kind,
Heal a heart that's broken, and I guarantee you’ll find.
The simple things in life are free, and love comes without a cost,
Don't build up treasures on this earth, where souls get trapped and lost,
Do what you can for all you can, with all you have to give,
From where you are inside yourself, allow your HEART and SOUL to live!

I don’t know if they’re zealots or not.
(sitting in the coffee shop,
at the table across from mine)

They could be nice enough people,
just like me and you,
if perhaps,
in my opinion,
a little misguided.

(their conversation hits my rewind button)

It is the holiday season after all.
Folks do like to wear The Christ on their sleeves
like an ugly sweater to an office party.



They can have Jesus.
His birthday is coming up
sooner than later,
so they say.

I never wanted Him
in my passenger seat
after my mom got sick.


Ma strapped her Catholicism on
like Kevlar.
She feared death
nonetheless.

My crippled *** knew in Nixa, Missouri.
When that faith-healer came
to my Grandma's hometown
for a real Southern Baptist
revival.

There was fixin’
to be some preachin’,
some layin’ of the hands.

That preacher-lady,
in her white pantsuit and dyed hair,
coal black;
she asked me what I wished for.

I was a Freshman
at my momma’s
Christian Brothers
alma mater.

So, I told that preacher-lady
that I’d wanted to play football,
I wanted that purple & gold uniform,
I wanted to hold the line,
protect the quarterback,
take the cheerleader to prom,
I wanted the whole thing.

She promised me that I’d have it.
She promised me
the whole shebang.
She pushed on my forehead.
She pushed on my chest.
She whispered:

“Go ahead and let yourself fall over.”

Right then,
I knew she was a fake.
I never fell.
I stood straight-legged,
as tall as I was able.

I sank further into my cerebral palsy.
I took full ownership of it,
right then.

Because it was mine,
it was a part of me,
it made me who
I was supposed to be.

I knew that
right then as well.

That minute,
I knew I’d never need the football,
the uniform,
the cheerleader girlfriend,
none of it.

I’d need me,
myself,
my notebook,
my Robert Frost anthology,
my Metallica tapes,
all the things that Pops had ever said to me,
like:
“As long as you’re happy with who you are, that’s all that matters.”

And, it was.
Honesty was too.
The truth mattered.

It mattered more
than having that phony push on me.
It mattered more
than the show I’d figured out
she was putting on.

(I'm no fool.
And, I'm **** sure not a prop.)

But,
it didn’t stop me
from lifting my crutches up,
catching my balance,
wobbling to the back of the church
while the congregation gawked,
sitting in their pews agape.

When we got back
to Grandma’s house,
I made myself
a bowl of vanilla pudding.

Grandma & Aunt Maxine
told me how disappointed they were
in what I had done,
in the embarrassment of it.

Later, I cried;
told God how disappointed I was
that He'd let me be used like that,
embarrassed like that.

He never responded.
He didn’t care.

We don’t talk anymore;
never have,
really.

I think that we’re,
both of us,
better for it.

*
-JBClaywell
©P&ZPublication 2020

My first memory,
Our dog, Maxine
Trying to jump up on to my changing table.
She couldn’t breathe,
She was laughing so hard.

It was Take your daughter to work day.
She got to peer from the side of a Skyscraper
And imagine what all the people were doing
And imagine Herself grown up
And doing important things too.

Her parents were split up
But when She turned eight they spent the day together.
They went to the restaurant She liked and
Visited the Smithsonian.
They all laughed at dumb jokes
And She went to bed feeling warm.

When She was in Middle School
She didn’t like her parents anymore.
She went to a sleepover with strangers
And watched Titanic and made a friend.
It felt like how the teenagers must have felt
In the movies.

Before She left She felt like a kid again.
Not the same, but with the same potential,
Peering ahead at life’s possibilities.
She got drunk with Her friends and
Laughed and recounted all of the
Beautiful nights.

I sit and I try to remember
All of the times I was happy.
Then I feel all of the weight
Of my entire history
The past that is gone
And the future I can’t achieve
Plundering like sand through my hands.

How dare she be allowed to laugh?