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"neith" poems
When Christmas shopping is finally done, wrapped gifts lie ‘neith a tree that sparkles bright with tinsel and light for everyone to see. Each gift has been selected with thoughtfulness and care. Toys and such will mean so much like all the gifts we bear. But let us keep within our heart the much greater gift than these. One from above, with God’s great love should bring us to our knees. A gift of birth to all on Earth. A gift that’s far from small. To everyone, He gave His Son… The greatest gift of all.
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Nov 27, 2011
Nov 27, 2011 at 10:25 AM UTC
The Greatest Gift
the dark ice cream man floats up and down the empty streets his truck weakly cranking out a warped sounding song that leaves a trail of dogs objecting the truck has the word pestilence painted on it instead of ice cream his dark form hunched over the steering wheel his cheshire grin has aspects of his delirium imprinted on its clean toothy shine he only comes out at three am and glides the cool pavement in search of Delilah's phone number she promised him that she would be his one true and he meant to hold her to it he would do anything to have her all to himself Delilah walks barefoot along the train track with one ear nailed acutely to the train whistle approaching the other ear in her pocket where she hums a **** version of the battle hymn of the republic all good girls love horses and shotgun weddings she wants her shotgun wedding on the saddle with the ice cream mans brother who she thinks is just too nifty to be anything but heavenly she always pictured him with angel wings carrying a sword and riding a pale horse named death there are echoes in the concrete parkland the neatly trimmed grass glistens wetly in the darkness a dew touched tree stands on a narrow hill its leaves thrashed slowly by a whisper of wind the sound of running feet laughter its an illusion she is an illusion i make matchstick men watch them march in precision lines i am a matchstick man watch me scribble in precision lines the ice cream man now sleeping away the humid hot afternoon stashed away in the back of his pestilence truck while Delilah learns how to knit and make candles that ice cream mans brother sells at flea markets we all settle for what we think we want and in the end we all get what we deserve Delilah marries the brother and they live happily while ice cream man spends his mid-life crisis as a politician who leads a double life making ice cream sandwichs out of his basement and i am discovered 'neith the truck making matchstick men out of twigs from the tree of life
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Nov 18, 2013
Nov 18, 2013 at 12:09 AM UTC
matchstick men
the dark ice cream man floats up and down the empty streets his truck weakly cranking out a warped sounding song that leaves a trail of dogs objecting the truck has the word pestilence painted on it instead of ice cream his dark form hunched over the steering wheel his cheshire grin has aspects of his delirium imprinted on its clean toothy shine he only comes out at three am and glides the cool pavement in search of Delilah's phone number she promised him that she would be his one true and he meant to hold her to it he would do anything to have her all to himself Delilah walks barefoot along the train track with one ear nailed acutely to the train whistle approaching the other ear in her pocket where she hums a **** version of the battle hymn of the republic all good girls love horses and shotgun weddings she wants her shotgun wedding on the saddle with the ice cream mans brother who she thinks is just too nifty to be anything but heavenly she always pictured him with angel wings carrying a sword and riding a pale horse named death there are echoes in the concrete parkland the neatly trimmed grass glistens wetly in the darkness a dew touched tree stands on a narrow hill its leaves thrashed slowly by a whisper of wind the sound of running feet laughter its an illusion she is an illusion i make matchstick men watch them march in precision lines i am a matchstick man watch me scribble in precision lines the ice cream man now sleeping away the humid hot afternoon stashed away in the back of his pestilence truck while Delilah learns how to knit and make candles that ice cream mans brother sells at flea markets we all settle for what we think we want and in the end we all get what we deserve Delilah marries the brother and they live happily while ice cream man spends his mid-life crisis as a politician who leads a double life making ice cream sandwichs out of his basement and i am discovered 'neith the truck making matchstick men out of twigs from the tree of life
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52
I could see all neith the flowing dress she wore, though the moon played its tricks on my eyes that night. Curled red hair flowing like waves upon the shore, yet could not hide her fairie wings from my sight. All night I lay with her on the woodland floor. We laughed and loved, though she was gone come daylight. And each night since I've gone to the wood to find, naught but a fairie ring did she leave behind. Ottava Rima:  Italian stanza form composed of eight 11-syllable lines, rhyming abababcc. It originated in the late 13th and early 14th centuries and was developed by Tuscan poets for religious verse and drama and in troubadour songs.
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May 24, 2013
May 24, 2013 at 5:57 PM UTC
Fairie (an Ottava Rima)
memory and the city lights fading behind me the wheels turning in the night the tears called upon to save you have decayed faded into the cake of makeup stretched on your parody smile put a candle on that babe and celebrate another year twenty miles outa town stopped my buick 'neith the highway sing and in the cool desert moon made love to another woman just to have another falling star to chase shes a little cracked but she can smile yes she can and that's a ray of pure sunshine to this broken heart that's a glass of gladness in the chambers of sour i owe a thousand apologies but none of them east of the mississippi so i head to sunny florida spend all my time in the rain writing letters home to the mountains of the moon serenity is just another girl after all isnt that what she would say a fun pile of hot packed in skintight jeans but just a girl tried to find a narrow path in the thorns attempted to get round the snags but milkmaids and **** kings are all too sure that id fail someday and they wait with bated breath for me to be on my knees but im making a new lifetime outa the dust im carving a new hope outa the curses laid on me ill make it because im resolved like iron ink but im rusting like rainwater and there is nobody i can hope not to offend i had thought to find your hand to hold and standing here in the rain wish itd work its way out im so weary of the futile chase but you left on a train headed north to go find my enemies to deal out some measure of justice im resolved like iron ink rusting in the american sun nobody's treasure born to wait come home someday
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Sep 4, 2013
Sep 4, 2013 at 6:06 AM UTC
iron ink
memory and the city lights fading behind me the wheels turning in the night the tears called upon to save you have decayed faded into the cake of makeup stretched on your parody smile put a candle on that babe and celebrate another year twenty miles outa town stopped my buick 'neith the highway sing and in the cool desert moon made love to another woman just to have another falling star to chase shes a little cracked but she can smile yes she can and that's a ray of pure sunshine to this broken heart that's a glass of gladness in the chambers of sour i owe a thousand apologies but none of them east of the mississippi so i head to sunny florida spend all my time in the rain writing letters home to the mountains of the moon serenity is just another girl after all isnt that what she would say a fun pile of hot packed in skintight jeans but just a girl tried to find a narrow path in the thorns attempted to get round the snags but milkmaids and **** kings are all too sure that id fail someday and they wait with bated breath for me to be on my knees but im making a new lifetime outa the dust im carving a new hope outa the curses laid on me ill make it because im resolved like iron ink but im rusting like rainwater and there is nobody i can hope not to offend i had thought to find your hand to hold and standing here in the rain wish itd work its way out im so weary of the futile chase but you left on a train headed north to go find my enemies to deal out some measure of justice im resolved like iron ink rusting in the american sun nobody's treasure born to wait come home someday
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48
As the wizard traps his fairy in his enchanting crystal ball The wolf draws back to serenity neith the luminous waterfall The magic unicorn cuddles with the forbidden persian cat And the majestic lion gambles with the savage loyal rat I listen to the harps peaceful melody of the sky Played on her pastel rainbow as she swiftly flys on by The mighty tigers watchful eyes Glare at the lightnings slow demise The dolphins play with the bubbles of the sea This mystical place of harmony, found inside of me! © Crystal Erickson
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Dec 29, 2014
Dec 29, 2014 at 6:07 PM UTC
My Room in My Mind
the road was a dusty grey in the early morning light shadowed by a thick fog quiet with late summer breeze his footloose wandering had brought him through all the long years and all the long miles to this strange place the old wood fence broken down in places was all that separated from the woods cool and rich with the scents of summer and it looked like a wonderful place to take his rest from midday sun so sat neith a tall oak has his supper and did fall fast asleep lulled by the warm summer day and he dreamed a dream of all the worlds wonders dream of loving warm things that give the heart ease he woke well after the sun had fled to a forest strangely silent to a foreboding to chill to the soul he cast about seeking the source of ill-ease but nothing there was so it seemed deep in distance he began to perceive the small sound of a woman's voice singing soft an sweet drawing near and he could see distant light moving through the trees drawing near and he did marvel at the ideal of sweet maiden coming to ease him so sweet was the sounds of her approach he had only thought of beauty only had thought of lusts but narrow is the edge of reality we perceive and swift is reality's vengeance for the unguarded heart and then he saw her and swore within his heart that he was in love so fair was her face so enticing was her form so he was ensnared so he was doomed she is a siren of the dark wood her fair face hides the sharp teeth of her viper heart her fair figure hides her dark nature she fell upon him and murdered poor traveler without even a thought left his bare bones to dry in the morning sun the dark wood contains many things to chill the soul but none so gruesome as the fair maiden
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Sep 14, 2013
Sep 14, 2013 at 12:41 PM UTC
in the dark wood
the road was a dusty grey in the early morning light shadowed by a thick fog quiet with late summer breeze his footloose wandering had brought him through all the long years and all the long miles to this strange place the old wood fence broken down in places was all that separated from the woods cool and rich with the scents of summer and it looked like a wonderful place to take his rest from midday sun so sat neith a tall oak has his supper and did fall fast asleep lulled by the warm summer day and he dreamed a dream of all the worlds wonders dream of loving warm things that give the heart ease he woke well after the sun had fled to a forest strangely silent to a foreboding to chill to the soul he cast about seeking the source of ill-ease but nothing there was so it seemed deep in distance he began to perceive the small sound of a woman's voice singing soft an sweet drawing near and he could see distant light moving through the trees drawing near and he did marvel at the ideal of sweet maiden coming to ease him so sweet was the sounds of her approach he had only thought of beauty only had thought of lusts but narrow is the edge of reality we perceive and swift is reality's vengeance for the unguarded heart and then he saw her and swore within his heart that he was in love so fair was her face so enticing was her form so he was ensnared so he was doomed she is a siren of the dark wood her fair face hides the sharp teeth of her viper heart her fair figure hides her dark nature she fell upon him and murdered poor traveler without even a thought left his bare bones to dry in the morning sun the dark wood contains many things to chill the soul but none so gruesome as the fair maiden
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54
Come find me here on this beach of dreams, where the sand is black in perpetual twilight, cloaked in constant night. Come join me here 'midst the salt and palms, on a vast expanse of twinkling shifting glitter, that mirrors the sky. Come seek me here 'neith the starry canopy, where the sea breeze blows and the air hints of brine and age and memory. Come to me here in the soft moonlight, where the shadows dance and the wind whispers "close your eyes and be still."
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Jun 2, 2013
Jun 2, 2013 at 8:54 PM UTC
Beach of Dreams
dustbunny's lonly heart lay neith the chair her fine hair flowin her grey dress as beautiful as can be she sat the quiet summer day waiting for a passing breeze knew he would come for her someday once she was the beauty queen all the other bunnys crowed round admiring her fine fine looks but as they passed this chair she got caught in a crevice and watched as the rest of the bunnys swept along on the breeze laughing and playing living the bunny dream she has waited here for the breeze man to pick her up and take her back to her friends but little did she know that the people who owned the house had fixed the broken window and breeze man couldnt come to rescue her instead a terrible fate awaited her vacuum cleaner girl was gonna find her and eat her breeze man beat upon the window trying to find her but vacuum girl really ***** and in the end she found dustbunny
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Oct 18, 2013
Oct 18, 2013 at 8:45 AM UTC
dustbunny and the breeze man
Stars out in their billions Above a living sea Seagulls sleep on beaches The wind blows to the lea Old Mexico is haunting A place of History To these graceful sandy shores You invited me Your residence so gracious Where I could be free. I picture Starry Starry Night Swirling colors, yellow, cream Italian Cypress blowing The deepest darkest green Vincent must have such a Muse What would he have seen? If he came to Mexico To stars like in a dream? We exist neith different Skies In these shells of flesh & bone But we both seek the same prize We are NOT alone I would give all that I have To soothe your road of stones Yes, I'd give all that I have I'd give all that I own To give you all these billion stars And a place you could call HOME. Catherine Jarvis 11/19/2018
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Nov 19, 2018
Nov 19, 2018 at 2:32 PM UTC
A Billion Stars
she mostly laughs when she dances you can see the delight in her eye as we get to the concert hall that her feet are singing along already that shes just bouncin in her sandles ready for the band to to start up ready for the song to take her places she oh so loves to go she laughs as she dances and she got nothin on 'neith that dress so she can move easy and feel free oh man what a turn on and so is that pretty laugh of hers always makes me smile too love to watch her dance love to love her my dready babycakes my night passion my day love affair take my arm baby lets go see who's playin down at the club maybe we can get a giggle or two maybe i can get 'cha dancin just for me
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Oct 8, 2013
Oct 8, 2013 at 4:49 PM UTC
laughs when she dances
the hour speaks its tune and the world dances to it in perpetual movement hand in hand to the eye through the nameless ages of silent symphony i wait for its rapid step to pass on the way through the halls of time a fool and his mothers milk of answers for all occasions from the most fashionable of sources like the distant days enlightenment from a bubble gum wrapper time slows to a walk as it dawns upon the teacher that all who learn have not the same measure of thought to consequence my only thought as this caravan of the soulless passes is of the eyes peering from 'neith the ragged tarp the filthy lenses of their vision carpets my senses with the intensity of the truly mad not a shed tear blemishes their near perfect in unison laughter what manner of beast birthed this nightmare of the perverse what corner of rough madhouse could be the home to such the old hour limps through to its finality and its tune is renewed with the freshly birthed hour the old hour is buried in the ashes of the new hours burning desires as seen in her now awake eye she reaches for me and pulls me slowly down into her viper kiss i willing surrender to its poison tastes for she is young and willing the fool having exhausted his mothers milk of quick fix answers lays down his defences and is overrun weeping the whole time for his lost paradise for his lost chance to be the star of his one man show
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Dec 17, 2013
Dec 17, 2013 at 5:45 AM UTC
rough madhouse
I don't have all the parts to rebuild every one of your burning buildings. I see you sleeping and all your whisper weary age lines disappear. I don't know how I'm suppose to pull you from the dark when you're bleeding. your ghosts elude me though to you they're so cruel and clear. I don't have the strength to prevent both our hearts from bowing. neith the past the future and the insurmountable fear. I trace the shiny zig zags and remember that once your hands were solely for hurting. memories carved hold an effervescent charm that thickens the air. between us is still but the shadows give way the predator lurking. so we'll pack up and move to where there aren't faces who stare. we'll make the most of it.
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Mar 19, 2013
Mar 19, 2013 at 11:38 PM UTC
Backwords.
The burning fire, neith all the words we 'er spoke, And the thrumming of the trees, that we mistook , The ports are cold round here my love, I'm all alone at the boundary.
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Feb 21, 2013
Feb 21, 2013 at 4:16 AM UTC
pocket verse.
Nual doan fouth keer heln Aleht geif netfh aour Neith. Elnish fouthe aourn Eo ulth.
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May 21, 2016
May 21, 2016 at 8:52 PM UTC
Calnte
Heshlif moen fnigh alew, Adow thel neqith. Zil neith rouj yehk zcehn.
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May 21, 2016
May 21, 2016 at 8:49 PM UTC
Felthock
'Neith the crystal waves he lies Snorkel snout and bubble eyes Chinese red, blue stripes ablaze Within the kelpy ocean's maze Breathing water like a fire This creature legends could inspire! Broad of body, frilly fin Which quiver to help this dragon swim Long of ear, an apparition He swims slow, but with precision Imagination must have seen This briney wraith within a dream! Cumbersome, he is, of course Related to the plain seahorse Imagine how he finds his bliss! Snorkel puckered for a kiss! Before you judge this silly cuss IMAGINE WHAT HE THINKS OF US! Cathy Jarvis 3/20/2019 Revised 3/21/2019
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Mar 21, 2019
Mar 21, 2019 at 1:08 PM UTC
SEA DRAGON