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By: A cousin for a cousin


Softly spills the sunlight through the bright white golden hair
Searing sand shifts swiftly as she dances through the air

Cotton clouds caress the curve of light blue summer sky
Evanescent, folds float free, her figure, swirling flies

Wind weeps breezy billows just above an emerald sea
Colors bright, in honor, dance, of all she dreams to be

Shadows sweep in silence swift across a burning beach
Capturing crescendos of the things for which we reach

Frozen movement lives eternal printed on a page
Spilling ever endless from the confines of its cage

Journey's onward ever joy, enticing hearts with love
Dreaming dances, ever coy, beneath the all above




For more see:

~ http://aweavingofwords.blogspot.com ~


(This was written about a picture that I thought looked like my cousin, the picture can be found at
http://www.etsy.com/viewlisting.php?listingid=27777940)
Hal Loyd Denton Jan 2012
Our Town

This is a reminisce exclusively dealing with childhood so let’s skip about the hood
Were any of you standing in the alley at Rudows Friday night with a raffle trying to win a pony?
I never won but by the picture she shared Donna had a horse to ride thanks to her shutter bugging
We have a photo journal of sorts that preserve our precious memories and I thought Reed handled it
I guess he holds the distinction for Pana news Photography and over the years has done a fine job
Can’t forget George’s how about Mr. murry from murry’s TV skating at Price skating rink I bet every one
Got one of those famous rides home Mr. Price and his wife would have that little truck full almost
Dragging the bottom and I swear it didn’t matter where you lived you had a free ride home. That was
Pana sorry girls will leave you out a moment but Whities pool hall any one for cut throat or a little game
In the back, or watch his son the pool shark clean out a sucker who tried to beat Greg. I could never get
My head around and miss prim and proper school teacher misses white is mother and wife all those
Years if she went there she was dressed like Jackie Onassis dark sunglasses London fog rain coat and
Head scarf remember those I don’t care there are two killer women one in a silk colorful head scarf and
A long haired beauty in a cow boy hat I guess it would look better in jeans. Can’t leave this out on that
Note a long skip out of our town into our country Colorado Springs at a chevron gas station sorry here I
Go boy talking this vision picture Raquel Welch I can’t believe I didn’t miss spell her name I got from
School what was important then add Sophia Loren blue jeans so tight if she gave you change and
Dropped a coin and hit those pants any where dude, do some serious ducking because its ricochet time
That sounds French how appropriate those French think of everything even the speech therapist at
Lincoln school wa la one heart attack at a time please even this flash light I use to type in the dark is
Getting hot back to this vision now finish with a Dolly Parton top without going to a weird extreme then
Long black raven hair and don’t dare ask me what did she sound like who was listening my Cherokee
Eyes probably were clear back past my ears. Then the most gorgeous cooperies skin I want to know how
In the red man’s crap did they lose, First Colorado and then the rest of the war? Well I had my own set
Of problems the girl in the my car would have been a little up tight if I would have hailed her a cab it was
A long way back to Pana and I don’t think this was a liberal section of Colorado Springs where her
Husband over in the gas station would let his wife date. By this time I didn’t look to bad and I started
My life long effort of mastering the use of words but on the inside I was pretty much a dufus I will take
An out the stars were not lined up I couldn’t even figure out some way if only the gas tank would run
Down the gutter you no a never filled tank well two things my jaw was tired of laying on the ground and
Wearing a gas hose and nozzle for a necktie I didn’t think I could pull it off literally sorry after that
Recounting this fool isn’t going back to our town as the hippie mixed with a beatnik would say I’m gone.
Louis Bitchop Apr 2013
my girlfriend is going in for surgery
but a very rare surgery
****** replacement surgery
the waiting list, is very poor
no-one actually had their name down
so i took a deep breath of courage
and kicked down the door and said, doc my baby can have my ******
the docter said the proccess wasnt easy, 65% chance of death
i didnt care, i loved her more than anything
the surgery began, i was nervous, but more excited to see my baby girl live another day with a good ******
but sadly, my time was up.
as my girlfriend woke up a week later, her first words were; where is my boyfriend? i havent heard from him
but the docter said, im so sorry Raquel, D'Angelo gave his ****** to save your life..
He's gone.
What
Aaron Reisinger Mar 2015
It's been nearly a month,
And I've spent more nights drunk,
Than I have in the last year,
Just so I can sleep at night.

Dad I wish you were here,
So you could see me clean,
And know that everything,
Would be alright in the end.

I overdosed yesterday,
And I swear on your grave,
The one I will never see,
That I prayed to you that everything would be alright.

I didn't pray to God,
If he even exists,
I prayed to you,
That I wouldn't black out.

I prayed that Raquel wouldn't,
Have to bury me,
That you'd keep me awake,
Long enough for the ****** to leave my body.

I wanted to die,
I swear to all I love I wanted that black abyss,
No heaven, no hell,
Just darkness.

I say I swear to God,
But I don't know if I believe anymore,
All I know is that I couldn't die,
Because now I have reasons to live.

****, I nearly went out the way I wanted,
Still young and high on dope.
But the thought of you kept me awake,
In the hospital parking lot.

I prayed mom didn't have to know,
Not that I'd care if the dope had done its job.
But the thought of dying in my sleep,
Made me puke.

Come on Dad,
I know you've no body to come back to,
Now that they've turned you to ashes,
But **** all if you didn't fight your way back to us.

It's been nearly a month,
And I've been drunk more times than I can count,
Just so I can sleep,
And not forget you.
Says Leiak: “I have parleyed with the spirits of Strigoi for more epsilons and nocturnal tenths than of the Vóreios of Zefian, endless in the gloom that have divided the chains, with magic that blinds my eyes in the budding sunrises of Ovid and his horizon, With the Katana of a Lapp warrior between the blades of the benevolent Hagakure of a samurai, between the two flaming zones was the Celestina next to me, to degrade alone and old with her ****** folds, collapsing in frenzy as she lost between her fingers with the whiteness of his ciliates, so that as Celestina was the decoy of the Ars Amandi, Ovidio also appeared on the Mataki tablecloth, without hindrance of the worn and lethargic over-relief between the sheets worn by his thumbs and outer fingers on the sheet of the Ovidian index, prevented from having, and rubbing the Mataki full of colorful eyes to see if the third book walked only on the belly of the Celestinas courtesans, or were a strong choice The omens that Strigoi had already confided to her at the door of his ear, with fribrous and cold astragali that they grafted into the damp darkness of the other bleak wetland of the Mandrake. My stoicism has been extolled with the courtesan in a filial augury with the daughter of Laban, for Jakob's needs after twenty years in Harran, in the antitragus of Raquel's ear and hers desert of kabbalah of hers. Laban made obedience to Mount Gilead a command, before a sub-first-born being pulled on the heels by his brother Esau, fear was another option of the augury of sensitivity that was approaching instead of moving away from a greater panic, if at all. Whoever comes and draws its bellicose root from the complete saying of Yahweh turning his back on demons that imitate him, but not being able to walk like him on the desert without leaving footprints. Leiak had all these spirals of Spartan Mirages, where all boasted of democracies, while others evidently in the land that he watered them by hands that also secured the Xifos with blacksmith and agricultural handles, with riches that only provide wood for ships that Will they never sail, not even in half-freedom from the oligarchic mirage with men of war in the pulp, and that they will walk free in the polis until it puts them in the ****** battle where their bones will trade for soft money or lavish exchange?

The farm wasted to comrades who had crossed the dagger, Leiak after collecting them from the fields that were strewn with bones, wasting statistics with a Republican victory. Where is the money? nor would I want my discouragement to attack affections or stoicisms to be the one who averages my flock. The great effort belongs to all or to those who lose their parallelism if regularly a sword is well taken for what since its gain would be desired there, where the possession of wealth brings more care than joys that provide its enjoyment? (Xenophon, The Republic of the Lacedaemonians, VII), so that then more swords than anyone else will charge those who lost them in battles, not even those of gold at auction, for those who collect it as an integral bronze with maximum original zeal, to who must have had it tight in his hand, until the last minute it expired when he remembered that he did it with his plow in the hoplite farm, and in furtive actions now with the "V" Lacedaemon of Vernarth in the complete love of a God that still listens! Let's sing to the beasts, they act with imaginary benevolence, but not with tangible demonicity that touches their human offspring, always fighting with their necromances as a multidimensional actant, with texts that speak of a world that abhors human environments already possessed by a Laban, or by an illustrated Ovid, which crosses Celestina with necromances who only know of their cursed wombs of dry iron, narrated of an empress not reflected in her only until the last gasp to have her convalesced who sings the song of necromancy with her. The Mataki is a peasant with leathery hands impregnated with truth, poured out by the astrology of the horse of Alikantus, which limped in the noisy wand of Betelgeuse, with magical alchemy that gave way in the caverns that could not bear any more necromancers. This is where I come from, from the forests of the transversal valleys of Horcondising, of Andromancy, who was awakened one night at the next dawn in a new world and a new morning, without knowing where it was, but it was a human who guesses its hereditary Andromancy, among dead spirits that indicated that he too is and will be one of them, the advent of a nekroi who only shone towards a female sorceress but filling the maiden fields that mowed the pastures near the deceased people. Right here Yo Leiak, for whoever falls into this spell, I will round the square of a secular necromancer brandishing, only with written science that beats with interferences of his heart, towards a new concordance of the elusive Spartan mirages, where wealth lies on poverty being nothing more than their own science, from an order or Cosmos that piles up the empty bodies of the souls in their empty stomachs, without even an astrological medicine that would measure them of any veracity in the Contemplationis in Deum, where other things will be angels that they will roll through the doors of the tombs, where no one will truly live in the paragraphs of the mute angel. The vampirism taught by Vlad Strigoi, sleeps in the gulfs and inlets where he finds to provoke what or who he woos, and takes them to his fortified castle where passion scales the accents from where it is born, nor will anyone be able to write a single verse with stanzas hidden in a mysterious heart within another, which is from a man versed in the cartoon that synthesizes the plot of a title "Here I Leiak Necromancer, one day I was Franciscan and now I follow the stillness of my master Vernarth and our Apostle Saint John ”, I almost become a clergyman where everything arises and ends in the uniqueness of the functions in this banquet on Patmos, before the greater and lesser compliments, where my heart will serve for the greater good, I live in you my lord,  you taught to close your eyes and not lose your life that does not intercept the gates of the other, here is my adhesion Vernarth "
Leiak Necromancy
Aaron Reisinger Dec 2023
Eight years without you,
Bed so cold without you here,
Please come back to me.
Ya nadie graba 
en las paredes 
en los troncos 
  luis y maría 
      raquel y carlos 
        marta y alfonso 
junto a dos corazones 
enlazados

ahora las parejas 
leen esas vetustas 
incómodas ternuras 
en las paredes 
en los troncos 
y comentan 
  qué ñoños 
antes de separarse 
para siempre
Raquie May 2020
Cary cares for me
His strong mind carries me..
To the garden of Eden
It takes me to the river n shows me things I didn't see in me

He speaks life into me
He teaches me
He prays for me
Gives me my space
Knows when to stay away from me

Cary is my friend
We don't want to be lovers
less we married to one another

He's smart
and saavy

He's healthy
and generally happy

Tall and enterprising
That young man is rising undeniably
Im a sapiosexual
but I don't think he can have me


He can
Make a bitter woman believe in love again
with words so sweet, a make a broken heart mend
Now if we're meant, time will tell.
Signed,
your good friend Raquel.
RaKi & Men : Courting Adventures

Book idea?

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