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Rachel martas May 2013
Roes are red violets are blue faces like yours belong in a zoo don't be mad I'll be there with you not in the cage but laughing at you!
Emre Fatih May 2016
green eyes
how come
that warm
gently rides
to springs of heaven
from frosty blue ice
then turns black ravens
to brightest white doves
and
the hopeless cravens
to bravest heroes

lashes: turkish bows
glances like arrows
runnin' baby roes
make you chase for a while
what a perky look
cheerful naughty snook
but flowing jungle brook
sings her lullaby

a shiny pinky smile
carries an angel tribe
withinside
of the nook
thus devil got riled
was expelled and allied
with the nebbish adam
-rosy pink lips wiled
and might
clothe the seven seas
by the holly tide
Christine Ueri Jul 2016
skuld
skuld
skuldenaar

dit suis vanaand
in tolbos tale
rond-en-wind-ge-foeter
oor ‘n dor doer pad
‘n uitgestrekte stoftong
lek geraamtes
tot aan die silwer koppies
in die Klein Karoo se maan

skuld
skuld
skuld–in–aar

is Ma ‘n vreemdeling
wat staan en tee drink
in ‘n ander vrou
se blou kombuis

skuld
skuld
skuld–in–haar

al starend na die krake
weerspieël die vensterglas
‘n aarde broos
verbrokkel

maar

die reën sal kom
my kind
die reën sal kom
profeteer die roes–rooi wolke

al loeiend in die wind

sal Ma staan
onmiskenbaar
soos ongetemde buffelsgras
gewortel en gegrond
-------------------------------------
13/02/2016
Shaded Lamp Mar 2016
Bring back the wolves, nature's balance has gone astray
The ancient flowing water is carving a new way

Reds and Roes are rampant, stripping blade, stalk and leaf
Diversity is dwindling, the knife is in its sheath

Bring back the wolves, not those that shoot for "sport"
Untame mother nature with her sharpest retort


My BELOVEDz
A FREE spirit bird
Soars wings in flight
Heart as soft was steel
Wisdom bigger than intelligence
Seen through her lovely eyes
Flowers grow on her radiant face
No wonder the honey bees flutter
Her being is a garden burgeoning
Her smiles as fresh as rain
Her laughter flowing as early spring
Her eyes - the cosmic gaze
Her hair - the blue violet nests
Her breathe - like tulips and roses
She walks and comes like an autumn
That makes everyone fall for her
Fruits grow over her
Ripens redz in LOVERz shade
Pomegranate juice, chin apples
How round and sweet her *******
Riches, fame, desires shower on her
Her purity is wealthy royal treasury
Her skin is silk
Her pores essence is scent
Her body is gold-dust curves
Her ruby lips
Her pearly teeth
I always say to her
YOU are God/dess/ Nature's
'Over indulgence"
It is all about celestial LOVE
Her existence evokes paradise sweet
Her walks everyone sway in red wine
Her lips honey, her breathe musk
She is all divine, from head to toe
Don't be surprised - if intelligence
Missed the mark for wisdom...!
Even her touch steals spring's heart
Many have sighed and died though
Just by the gaze of her LOVE
Her face like sun & shine
Her eyes like moon & light
Does she know the sorcery of LOVE
Her lips pink, cheeks red roes
Her eyebrows - black and dark nights
Her glow of eye - burn many hearts afire
To me the curls of her hair
Look like dark clouds
Oh... her hand, fingers - reeds of ivory
Her nails shining golden filberts
Her neck - like an aware cautious deer
Flows of the conflagration of her bosoms
Her back as shining as surface of Mars
She donates inward strength to LOVERz
To play the mischievous subtle
Her being plunders hearts and soul
She profits through the trade of LOVE
There is no one like her in this world
The beauty of heavens on our earth
She is an Angel of LOVEliness



Captured in the psych ward


Today Ron got out of bed and
Had cereal and toast and then went to the hdu because he found out that his usual hangout burnt down overnight
By a man who has a lot of violence in him, you see this man suffers from schitzophrenia and has these dillusions of Fire being the answer, you see when he burns something down, a voice he claims is gods but it is really
The delusions in his brain saying do it do it do it
Burn it down and collect the insurance and go overseas to travel and everything will be alright and Ron had a lot on his plate with momma rose two weeks after patty roes death
And then this strange man entered the psych ward saying
I don't belong here with no hopers and sick people and
Momma rose went over to him
And said what are you in for
And he said I torched a place down to collect the insurance
To travel around the world
And Ron came in and took the man aside and started to understand why he would do
Awful things to businesses and homes and first of all he said his name was Harry and then he said God wants me to do this, you see if I torch a place i
Can collect the insurance and go overseas and Ron said what Makes you think in your mind that anyone will give you insurance for that and Harry said God always helps the little guys just like me, you see mate
I am different from other people
And Ron said what makes you think that and Harry said you see everyone worries about not
Being able to have kids and me
I don't care because there is so much you have to do
1 look into which school to enrol
Your kids into
2 buy food so your kids don't starve
3 pick up and drop off at school
And sporting events
Ahhhhhhh
And momma rose came over
And said Harry, do you want to escape one day, I know where they keep the keys
Because I have people on the outside I want to **** or destroy
And Ron said momma rose can you please leave me and Harry alone and momma rose walked away saying **** your *******
******* and Ron decided that
Harry should be trailed on chlosophine because there are a lot of violent thoughts flying around his head and Harry said
My mate Patrick doesn't want to help me, so he planted his voice into my head saying we don't like you anymore and Ron said we need you to understand the nature of your actions and Harry said I know what I did was right for me and Ron said you need chlosophine right now
And later that day they had  dinner and then Ron bought out the medications and momma rose said I know I killed George Washington but why should I stay here I am better now
When I was a kid we went to hospital to have operations and
Not stuck here watching tv
And Harry said shut up ****
And Ron clocked off and bought pizza and retired to the couch while momma rose played nice mother to Harry
Explaining every show making Harry very mad but he just let
Momma rose talk and that was the first day of Harry


Sent from my iPhone
as you may know,

it was a seedy day

yester day

so i lit the fire and sewed

superman pants.



used herring bone stitch

soothing in white



watched the film

flickering

and remembered

fridays was fish



we had herrings

fried the skin crisp

the roes plump and hard



the boys liked soft

suppose they would



used old cotton,

naturally and the wire

needle threader

fingered stiffed

sewing done felt a little

better



more coal on the fire

all will be well
Daan May 2019
Het is slaapwelletjes geweest.
Het groeten is het meest
rustgevend, stuiterend, springlevend
wanneer je eigenlijk stil moet zijn.
Probeer te kalmeren. Drink wat wijn.
Ik zal ze decanteren.

In mijn roes verwijder ik de platenhoes,
die grijze, voel ik me gevoelloos
op comfortabele wijze.
I-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i have become
Rachel Gosby May 2020
Who you are
Your accomplishments
The little things in life
beautiful moments
each day that comes alone
all of your success
your heroes, and she-roes
the big, and little victories
milestones as you prepare for the road ahead
the struggle as much as the success
how amazing you are
your individuality
how outstanding, and **** you are
how strong, and fearless you are
your achievements
the risks you take every day
ever lesions you've learned over the years
every win, no matter how small

No matter how hard things may seem to be, celebrate the successful things you've done in your life. every day is a celebration and you should ******* celebrate.
Dr Peter Lim Sep 2020
Just as there are heroes
there should also be she-roes
undefined Apr 23
I have one week to make it back to Paris and meet Rayne at the airport.

Goodbye magnolia trees and Margaret the cat, I'm out the door early and into town for coffee and to figure out what direction to move in next. "Toodalure San Fargeau" I hope sometime to pass back through. After freshly ground coffee, an orange juice,  some homemade yogurt,  cigarette,  and a piece of alvacado toast, I head out of town in what I believe is soo (south). Stopping only to snap pictures of a castle and a church, seen yesterday.

The next town down, I pas a cemetery and a veterans memorial,  but no restaurants, or even a post office.  There are a lot of these little residential villages from what I've seen all over France. On my way through the village after that, I stop to check my map, and see that even if no one picks me up on the road, I should be able to make it to a place with water and perhaps food within the next 2 hours, there's a large community another couple villages away.

A younger guy pulls over to a stop in front of me and says, "You look as if you could use a ride," I climb in what looks like a work van that has been outfitted to sleep or live in for short periods of time on the road. William is a carpenter by trade who has recently broken up with a girlfriend, and is getting pretty sick of his boss. He's headed west to spend a week of vacation time with a girl there, and to decide if he ever wants to go back to his job again. He's also a pretty good guitarist and a new fan of bluegrass.  We stop at the next town and I spend my last few euros to get us coffee and hear him play. Afterwards, I decide to continue our conversation as far as he's going so, my new direction is now west. Closer to major transit anyway, and still in route to collect my friend in the city at the end of the week. (All trains go to paris)

Dropped off in the city of Rennes, (pronounced more like "wren"), it's a collage town similar to where I'm from only with a river running through it, a slightly better transit system,  and a few more boulangeries than Denton. Rennes is a city rich with midevil history, some of the first tournaments began with knights there. But 11th century walls renovated by 13th century lords, restored again by architects, masons, and builders of the 15th century,  is fast becoming victim of 21st century "could give a **** less" newbloods. I decide to stay for the night so, I look for a place to play. The first person I meet is named Francis, he is headed to a cafe/bar for "english speaking night" there. I go with him, but he skips hanging out with the group inside and instead just chats with me for a bit. He has been to India where I am going and he's an English teacher so, we have good conversation,  and I learn a little bit of "le france" too.

As the night goes on, drunk kids who've just finished exams flood the streets, and though there are many great interactions, compliments on my singing, and everyone is having a good time, I only make pennies. And after phoning to check in with Mom, and checking to see how Rayne is doing, a drunk local woman shows me to a spot where I can crash for the night.

The next morning, after making only .70cent dealing with drunk students last night, and fussing with homebums this morning,  I decide to take off and see Brittany's other city, Saint Malo, on the coast. I make camp next to the motorway and slept in a bit late, but found a ride about half way there, deciding to stop en route to see a little town where every single building was sourced from the granite quarry there. I walked about a kilometer into th town when I found a pub and it began to rain. The frequent rain in Brittany makes the countryside lush and green, like much of the south I've seen so far, accept here, there are more hills and coastline landscape much more similar to Oregon or Washington,  in the states.

Tim has been a local here for 18 years, moving here from England after meeting his wife, she's the lady behind the bar who laughed at my sign, (on my pack it says, "apprends-moi le français, s'il te plait"). He says that when he met his wife, he was forty (something) and she was 18. They're both good company,  and after a couple songs and a bier, I am invited to supper with them. (Duck).  

Tim gives me a lift the rest of the way to Saint Malo. Through the gates of "cite' corsair" to the wall facing the Atlantic... Atop it, I am 5 thousand miles from anyone or anything I have ever really known, with 6 'roes to my name, the closest I will be to the US for the rest of this adventure, and I'm looking out over one of the most beautiful sights I've ever seen in my life.

Two cafes' later I met Arthur, he tends bar but it's his night off, he wants to write, play music, and go watch the sun go to sleep from the beach. "Ye' are mot!" That's how you "cheers" in San Malo. I have a few drinks, Arthur's treat, and we're watching "coucher de Soleir."

The next morning it's time for me to leave "pirate city," and continue finding my way to meet up with Rayne. Cafe, cquesant, found a couple euroes somewhere, mail a postcard off, and I'm walking country roads again in no time.

I leave the ocean coast a walk for several days through yellow fields that feel to me like I'm strolling through an oil painting, forests where I camp by streams of running water and wake up to snow on the ground, passing 600 year old places lost in time, walls and stone structures reclaimed by nature and covered with moss and ivy, everything dating hundreds of years older than anything that still stands in my country. As I reach a road at the edge of the next town, a woman pulls over and asks if there is anything she can do for me. I am tired from sleeping on the ground and days of walking, I'm out of food, water, money, and haven't passed anywhere to play music since leaving Saint Malo. I tell her that I would take a lift into town for water, if she is offering.  

She takes me to a cafe for coffee, trys to phone a place to see if I can play music there, buys me a sandwich, some bread for later, pastries at the boulangerie, then drives me to the otherside of town and leaves me with 20 euros in my pocket. Time spent with her was brief, so brief that I never got her name, but she spoke of how fortunate she has been in her life to live long enough to have things and be able to to help. Speaking momentarily on budist and stoek philosophies saying, "Now, is the gift we are given to do what we can with. The goal to being pressent now, is to Not Worry. And to use the 'now,' you ask, what can I do?.. If nothing, then No Worry. If something,  then you do it so, No Worry."

I walked for a little ways and fot a short ride that took the confusion away from my directional questioning for the remainder or this trip. . . Walking along "Rue de Paris."

Many more miles to go still, and it's getting cold out again, but my needs have been met, I have a positive mental attitude,  and all I have to do now is walk .






Stop Auto... (preview)

I do wish that I knew a bit more of the language still, I am learning, but I still feel like somewhat of a disappointment when hitching a ride and found not to be as good conversational company as most hoped. Still, hitchhiking is pretty easy in France, and after factoring my pace walking thus far with the amount of time I have before Rayne lands in the city, I decide not to risk coming up short of meeting her there, and to just hitch the motorway for the last 300km or so. I stood at a roundabout for a few minutes with my thumb out and got a ride most of the way to where I needed to be, the toll booth entry for the motorway headed nord.

Honks and waves, and smiles (probably at my hat and guitar) accompany my short walk there. It only takes a few minutes and I get a ride to the outskirts of Le Mans where I have to change highways. I hopped out of a car, and straight into an argument with law enforcement about being on the wrong side of the toll booth. I go find cardboard and make up a sign that reads "Paris," and in route back to the proper road, a man yells at me and tells me that he will get off work at 7pm and can give me a ride to Paris then. So, I sit down at the McDonald's and read for the rest of the day.

Stephen turns out to be a pretty stand up guy too, and although he's not supposed to have anyone else in his "boss' car" that is just for travel to and from his work, he lives 20 minutes from Paris and I ride with him 2 hours all the way, and he drops me off downtown.
This is a very rough draft for a kind of "teaser" that I'm going to work up for the book I am writing . I will finish it after the summer is over , but here is a very small part of a story in it.

Please excuse terrors, it hasn't been read or checked by anyone yet (aside from you now 😉)
Oh and I wrote it out on my phone and grabbed wifi here for a sec just so someone can give it a read
Thanks
Penne Jul 2019
Swim in this peach water
That reminds him the pink lemonade he drank that warm summer
Then spilled on his rose gold scales
As clear as his lapis lazuli eyes
And dives in this cloudy journey
Well, if it welcomes irony
We wanna help him but he will be fine
Even if he is looking frail
Since this is his breathing haven
The glowing seashell trail is already woven
All cold colors and liquid life enlightens
Wagging his tail deeper to the shadows
Curtain of mysteries dissolve in these bellows
He keeps flapping his fins
For he is curious at these things
Or is he just frozen on the inside as he was on the outside?
His lazuli eyes lock on the prize
Voices pierce through him, "Do not take the risk or you will be a disk!"
The other says, "Go to the right!"
Founded no fears of height
Stumbles upon a cove of roes
By the current flows
He stops and his skin rosier
For it reminds him his woos
Somehow he is now ****** as his woes
This bubble bath myth
The ocean flowers shower him with grit
The sweet taste of evanescence
Waves follow as he just starts the reminiscence
When he is thrown to the rocky crystals,
His rainbow splashed blood dials
Injecting himself on them over and over reminds him that he is flawed
Oh, was he raw
Aurora beams tear the surface
Is this what he is looking for?
Now he is above shore
Moves but interlaced
Speaks through the hour
It is shining here but
Why does he want to return underneath there again?
Or does he not?
What is the prize
And will it suffice?
Hot as he is going to rot
In this melting ***
Will he be able to feel her again in this time clot?
As he is furloughed
Never reached the coral dolour
There’s rumor in the mountains streams
Speaking from the sterling springs,
First heard by the magnolias in brief display
With whom I rested as brief a day.

That even still when the frost is gone
That frigid way still flows,
An icy mirror for the moon
It twinkles in the roes.

Red morning fire looks upon that cascading course
Making amber out of polished stone-
And there above the mossess happily endorse
The deadwood and the rock nearest that source,
As if spring lingered in this dell alone.

And at first it will leap
To those little stream bottoms
To carpet the forest
In premonition blossoms

And call to the wind
All fresh with morning dew
To run through the sun soaked pines
Bringing their sharp perfume to you




And here and there and everywhere
We can find the boughs growing or complete
Lightly graced with silver emerald
With wild ferns at their feet

Here in these sheltered valleys
Spring never seems too far
For the lack of interference
Finds flowers in the stars

And here spring stopped a day
Before it’s great pursuit
But yet again wherever i go
Its procession, taking root.

— The End —