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Robert C Howard Feb 2015
Early spring has come to Thelma’s farm.
The geese are on the pond,
a green velvet carpet circles the barn
while songbirds greet the morning sun.

We walk down Thelma's rutted road
where milk trucks used to rumble in
to fetch the morning’s yield.
Old Tikki leads the way - a pale fluff of a mutt
like a dust mop searching for its handle.

Thelma’s cows are long since gone –
sold off after Dutch was called to eternity
but she'd no more forsake this land - her land
than the sun would forget to rise.

Early spring has come to the Missouri hills
where clean warm breezes whisper hope.
Soon the ready soil will taste
the furrowing blades of the plow
near fields where livestock graze and flourish.

We’ve reached the bend in the road.
Old Tikki's wearing down
so we turn to retrace our steps.
A committee of neighbor calves
studies us with soulful eyes
and we appear to pass inspection.

Tikki guides us on our homeward path
where a ribbon of golden jonquility
neatly trims the foreyard fence.

Spring has come again to Thelma’s farm
as it always has and always will -
where clean warm breezes whisper hope.

March 13, 2011
Included in Unity Tree - Collected poems
pub. CreateSpace - Amazon.com
Scarlet McCall Jun 2017
I don’t care if you steal a quick look,
when you think I can’t see it.
As long as it’s furtive, it’s by the book.
A man looks at a woman;
it’s only human.
But when you stare
at my big “girls”, then leer in my face--
you’re a disgrace.
I’m not putting up with your ******.
The next time it happens,
I’m going Thelma and Louise.
I'm not really packing.
Amanda Apr 2017
Reckless and wild
Hopeful and carefree
The roads of the midwest await

Inconvenience strikes-
Sealed already is their fate.

On the run
90 goes the T-bird
leaving behind it their future
entangled in the thick clouds of dust.

Over the grand canyon they go
The T-bird flies
Their energy and passion,
their fuel.
Limitless possibilities await
for Thelma and Louise

The journey continues
Jordan Rowan Apr 2016
Romeo, Juliet
They were better off dead
For falling in love is just like getting shot in the head
Come along, little fool
What better way to learn the rules
Than for someone to be cruel to you  

Miss Thelma and Louise
Their spirits drift over Belize
Lovers live forever and never learn to leave
Mrs. Bonnie, Mr. Clyde
Seems like everyone in love has died
Not in each other's arms but by their side
CharlesC Mar 2013
Imagine, if you will, a swirling energy
Dancing around a core
Forever compelled to enter one end
Of a doughnut-like hole
Converging, traveling up and
Flinging out again in a creative burst
Spreading in all directions
But pulled by an irresistible force
To follow semi-circular paths
Back to the base
There to be reunited, renewed and then
Flow up and out again
And around and back
And up and out
And around and back
Again and again
And --

Can this Torus imaged energy be universal
Both encompassing the cosmos
And small carbon units like myself
Did my atoms arise from the core and
Manifest in a splendid journey
Through colorful space and finite time
And will my spirit go back
To coalesce in the core
And spring up again
And again and again
And --

Are black holes in space
Magnetized entrances into a doughnut hole
where compressed energy races up the core and
Spews out in a sprawling light show of universes
Until it is all called back to the base
To be fused again, transformed,
Recreated and sent up and out
And around and back
Again and again
And --
by a friend, Thelma
Francie Lynch Nov 2016
BeforeTV

Before TV,
When we were together,
Before growing apart
From father and mother,
We entertained ourselves with song;
All the sisters and brothers.

We gambolled in the backyard,
The clothes line was our zip line,
We fell soft, then hard.

We somehow got a hold of skates,
Not knowing what they're for,
So we took turns,
Laced them on,
To skate on cement floors.

We raised a high jump,
Skipped on the driveway,
Double Dutch and Speed;
We strung a line for volleyball,
Nailed a hoop below the roof,
Played soccer in the hall.
We paddled ping-pong on the table;
Our household freedom
Made us as grateful
As animals in a well-kept stable.

Some winters we'd flood the back,
And shoot and slide until the cracks
Turned to puddles,
Then I'd sail popsiclestick boats
Over oceans,
To distant folks.

On the frontwalk we tossed our stones,
Landing on the moon,
And hopscotch til we went for soup
And soda bread and **** milk.

If we had a ball and bat,
Chances are we'd not come back
'til the sun went down;
And then,
When the stars came out,
We'd *Hide and Seek,

Til the last one'd shout,  Home Free.
With dirt and patchwork dungarees,
We went in
For good-night tea.

Weren't we the normal family?

Then we got our first T.V.

After T.V.

We were landed,
Not gentry,
And we started channelling
U.S. T.V.

We weren't polite like Cartwrights,
Nor guaranteed Lil' Joe's birthright.

The sisters locked on Patty Duke,
Then dressed the same
To get the look,
So they ditched their Wellie boots.


We'd lie on the floor,
Stuck like glue,
On Sundays watch Ed's Big Shoe.
We didn't know the sun had left,
Our eyes were on the TV set.

The Cleaver boys still got dessert,
Though leaving green beans on their plate,
Left ice-cream and sweet chocolate cake.
We'd stare confused, yet salivate;
Such treats and food we'd never waste.

The Douglas boys had single beds,
En suites, bathrobes,
Hair on their heads;
Pillows and open windows,
And locks on doors,
They weren't co-ed.
We slept, at least, two to a bed,
Four to a room, two bedspreads.
We slept on mattresses with stinging springs,
Torn and traced with stale *****.
In the hot and humid summer,
In bathing suits
We'd swim in slumber.
Our small window couldn't open,
We roasted in our four walled oven.

We watched Lassie and Gomer Pyle,
Green Acres' Arnold had us beguiled.
We didn't get Father Knows Best,
His gentleness raised our regrets.
Lucy and Ricky, an odd couple,
Were always getting into trouble,
Like Fred and best bud, Barney Rubble.

Were these the models to emulate,
To blend in North of the United States?

These families had open conversations,
Shared their thoughts without hesitation.
Mine were full of consternation,
And alien, like My Favourite Martian.

We grew in a foreign land,
Beached like the cast on Gilligan.

Surely, we were Lost in Space,
Separate from the human race.
No gyroscope to set direction,
To separate fact from fiction.

We weren't stupid,
We were astute;
We weren't the ones on our TV.
We were a singular family.

Post T.V.

We numbered ten at the start,
Then aged and drifted far apart;
We can't gather to watch TV,
As we were once wont to be.
But I remember Ernest T.,
Throwing rocks to win Charlene,
And arrested by Sheriff Andy.
We laughed at all the silly doings
Of Barney, and Thelma Lou's wooings.

I send e-mails and textual banter,
(One brother still likes writing letters),
Reminding me of our early days,
How TV censured our innocent ways.

We never were small screen.
We emigrated to Canada from Ireland in 1957. A brave new world.
Rebecca Nov 2020
A contest for an added section of a children's book, Thelma the Unicorn.

https://allpoetry.com/contest/2741918-Thelma-the-Unicorn


Thelma's Response To Otis

I’m not. I’m not perfect.....

How dare you, my friend!
I am deeply offended!
Perfection is boring,
and flaws are splendid

I am a mosaic.
A broken masterpiece,
an abstracted rainbow,
authentic and unique.

My blemishes are mine
They’re what I want to be,
perfectly imperfect,
whimsical and free!
https://allpoetry.com/contest/2741918-Thelma-the-Unicorn
FRED CARVER

3 days after Fred Carver
Was shot dead
In a craps game
We all gathered
At Sparkman’s Funeral Home
For the visitation
I was standing
Behind Fred’s ex-wife Thelma
When she reached into her purse
And dropped something
In the casket
I leaned over her shoulder
And watched a black spider
Crawl up Fred’s face
And disappear in his hair
-Dennis Gulling
Used by permission of Zombie Logic Press and available at the Chemung Shamans outsider poetry slam team page http://chemungshamans.blogspot.com/2016/05/three-poems-from-dennis-gullings-blood.html
Mike Essig Sep 2015
All the woman craved
was attentive conversation,
a few common interests,
*** would have been great,
but simple human touch
would have made the difference.

A drought continues until
you move on or die.

Living alone together is
so much lonelier
than living alone alone.

The water of love must be shared.

Indifference wounds deepest.

Being invisible diminishes the soul.

So she took her pride and heart
and her clothes and her dog
and went in search
of a life that felt alive.

Courage is the first virtue.

With it, anything is possibly possible.

Perhaps even unlikely happy endings.

   ~mce
moziq Jul 2017
Hey there old friend. Maybe friend isn’t the correct term, so allow me to rephrase. Hello old habit. You and me were best friends. We were the Thelma and Louise of our time and yes we flew over the cliff and plunged into the abyss. I was sick and I only needed you. Not chicken soup which is weird because I always thought you were better when heated on a spoon. I thought you were all the antibiotics I needed. You and me were married once. I woke up to you, thought about you all day long, and rushed you into my arms at night. But that was just the honeymoon phase.
My friend, my disease. I was in it not for the thrill of the chase but for the end of my pain. When I was with you I saw my dreams come true. Pigs were flying, Donald Trump wasn’t considered sane enough to run the country, and I didn’t have to believe I was dying. I didn’t have to care about Tom, Ben, or Jerry. Care if the birds flew south to avoid harsh winters or harsh people. I avoided both. I only cared about cutting  perfect line, rolling a perfect dime, and making sure I didn’t look high. If I said I didn’t miss you I would be lying but hey, you’ve made a liar out of me before. It’s easy to try and ignore the hell you put me through, but I would walk a thousand miles of hells seventh floor before I slip back into that fantasy. That coma of things that have never been and could never not be. Me and the devil have danced nine times to many and I know all his sweet moves.

My friend, my affliction, Kryptonite doesn’t have a **** thing on you! You kept me down for four years. Only down was up and up was blue and it was way to difficult to stop believing in you. Believing you were better than real love. I loved you so much. You were my sweetheart, my honeybear, my chrystal, my blow, my k2 spice, my daily fix. But you can’t fix this! You can’t fix my past or make my future bright. I know I sound like I’ve suddenly seen the light but it was always there. I just chose to close my eyes.
My friend I think it’s best we stop playing this game. It’s time I call you by your true name. Addiction, you were never my friend only another bullet I’d bitten. Addiction you are my cancer, you may not be stage four but you're still terminal. You were the Thelma to my Louise. Only now if I am driven to the edge of insanity I’ll skid to a stop. I will watch as you fall over the edge, and I’ll smile as you dive into oblivion. A place I never again want to be.
Katharine Kvh May 2012
Bathtubs don’t work for quantum suicide
But every time I take one,
A part of me dies

What was nice under the crescent aglow?
Drunk on stars, or the moon lit show…

Ash of night, cradled what was once mine,
The repertoire of ever-syncing- jawlines.
Puissant is the chalice, its exaltation shined so bright,
Bestowed liberation underneath the chatoyant light,

The open windows left  niveous  fogs-
Breathed -stained –air,  against crystal *****.


Alive and one, under the entire earthly tempo,
Together left her organic imprints of art nouveau.
Beneath the warmth and petrichor ground,
The Lord and Lady commence to be crowned.
...Tree roots sink as veins of gods.
The serpent whispers his mellifluous facade...


The sharp shove of love’s first arrow
Lover’s spit, a seed for cupid’s bucolic furrow.
Scripture of Solomon’s *** temple of doom
All within the nicotine-stained-blue-infrared-bedroom,

Velvet allure, bellies of vigor,
The cold point, the pulled trigger.
Dance of Thelma, ancient cults of non-lovers
Feasting north, under the Horned God’s antlers.
The concoction of the widow’s deviated lust
Skins alive, the excited wolf-mans’ husk…

The gun’s mouth ex hailed bullets of smoke
Piercing hot wounds became tender lilts in up word strokes.
Still, they brought, perforating ice knives through the chest
Catching fades perpetually, just until two came abreast.
The shadow dalliance and hair pulls leave those weary,
The anise flower seeds sanction the suffering query.

What was once so beautiful at night?
Forgotten, as I turned red-haired-heathen in morning’s sight

So I take my hot bath, inure in my offing.
Emollient paean of the porcelain,
...which is my skin
See you, my ethereal being,
In short time spring will be fleeting
How funny is it when you write something and don't think about what your putting words into?,  then you read it,  like , ..."oh ****... that *is* what it means". It's a deep look into one's psyche,. sometimes fun and just  utterly depressing to analyze. writing is selfish
Faith Gabito Dec 2014
I am from devouring chapter books and making music
from the Chronicles of Narnia to falling in love with the piano
I am from the kingdoms of playgrounds and pools
Enjoyed with unforgettable friends on serene summer evenings
(Blissful innocence, alive with imagination, it was permeated with endless laughter)
I am from the blushing pink roses,
the cheerful cherry blossoms in my front yard
the epitome of beauty and the color I have always been drawn to
I’m from the warm family dinners at the kitchen table and unconditional love
from Noel and Thelma and Hope and Charity
I’m from the songs of gladness and hearts of thanksgiving
From choose to let your mistakes make you better not bitter and
think on whatever is lovely and true
I’m from trust in the Lord with all your heart,
and lean not on your own understanding
I’m from Brooklyn and the Philippines,
Cheesy New York pizza and sizzling chicken adobo
From nights enthralled with captivating characters in wondrous worlds of books
The sweet strolls on sunset beaches with my dad and mom
in cherished pretty photo albums
I am from formidable obstacles that taught me to never give up
jeffrey conyers Aug 2012
The funniest thing about the Andy Griffith Show.
He had an aunt that he loved so.
Which took time for Opie to know.

He had a deputy with one bullet.
Give him more.
Then you were in for a show.
But, he also had a famous phase.

Like "Nip It In The Bud".
Which every now and then, he spoked.
In truth Bernard P. Fife was vital to the show.

Yes, the funniest thing about the Andy Griffith Show.
He was a good parent first and fore most.
He was fair and firm.
When it came to his son.
After all.
He only had one.
Unlike that , of My Three Sons.

The men seems to gather at the Barber Shop.
Which , we still see today.
And like Flyod, many talked before they cut.
And many times.
He would cut too low.
Yes, this was part of the fun of the Andy Griffith Show.

Who doesn't remember Otis?
Who could teach many drunks today's a lesson.
He personally checked himself in.
Just to sober up and leave again.

Who doesn't remember that adult kid Ernest T. Bass?
Who many of times was sneaky and smart?
Or wanted a uniform just to wear it with class.

Of course the black and white shows are better than color.
All because they are so much funnier.
We admire Thelma Lou.
Still trying to figure out exactly what she did do?

We remember even Ellie.
Who wouldn't give a senior citizen?
A sugar tablet.

Yes, this was part of the fun of the Andy Griffith Show.
I could go on.
But I stop for now.
Least until, I see the show when Bill Bixby learn a lesson.
From visiting the town.
ShamusDeyo Dec 2014
The Steamy air Hung heavy
In the Office of the Private Eye.
Kansas City in August
The Air wants to die,
Or it only Smells that way.
Drifting up off the Riverbank.

Thelma my receptionist Waits
Filing her nails by the Silent Phone
If things Didn't Pick up soon or Late
Bills would have me Down to the Bone
Chasing Bail jumpers, something I'd Hate
Have to settle on, less some business was done

Just as I knocked back a Belt of Bourbon,
Came a Knock at the Door, in Walked
A pair of Legs from Here to there, to look on
Not sure if it was the red of her lips,
Or the red of her bright Hair,
But a Swing in her Hips Got me there.

She Laid on the tears as she told me her Fears
A Long lost sister being run by the Mob
Prostituting she said with a Gasp and a Sob
Her Silk Stocking legs crossing Sealed the deal
I'd put an ear to the street and find out the feel

A Kansas City Kingpin ran her on the street
If I staked out a Corner I'd see them Meet
Slipped my .32 from the Leather and Spun it once
Checking the chamber for a full Loaded Gun
I hunched down in the front seat of my old Chevy

It was only Minutes till he played the Heavy
I shouted out stop, as he Pulled a gun... Popped
It Seemed like Slow Motion as his body Dropped
She screams for Police, next I'm Cuffed by a Cop
Long legs says I stalked her, and am Patently Crazy
I took the Fall 'cause she set me up for the Patsy

The moral of the Story is..........
"Dames and Bourbon Don't mix".....JMF 12/11/14
Dedicated to all the Suckers set up in life....

All the Work here is licensed under the Name
®SilverSilkenTongue and the © Property of J.Flack
Samy Ounon Dec 2013
Sometimes I think my childhood went to fast
But frak-lookin’ back that castle was glass
Lasts longer than the beams to break the ceiling’s fall
With my puns I’m probably driving Carter Rhodes up a wall
I diggin’ in the dirt for those three words, words, words
My angry arrow’s at the birds, birds, birds
But like, Thelma and Louise could’ve given me their keys
‘Cuz they always hashtag swerve, swerve, swerve

This is me being personal
I don’t like to do it, but it’s
Best that I do it ‘cuz it
Saves the fuss of a
Sloppy, sole seat in
A sterile room
Where she gives me tissues for a twenty

Call me Mx. ‘cuz I missed the Mr.
Kyrie crown me the king of the sisters
You knock one down I’ll get up, defend her
And mix you up in my gender blender
Just like I'm out on a *******
To numb the pain from this Jen or Ben curse
And I’ve played chicken with the blurry ground
And I’ve breathed heavy as I looked around
My feet kissed the air and my arms were spread wide
Hoping against Hope that Jeckyll would beat Hide
It’s been a while since the last time and all
So if I jump-either way the other shoe’s gonna fall.

This is me being personal
I don’t like to do it, but it’s
Best that I do it ‘cuz it
Saves the fuss of a
Sloppy, sole seat in
A sterile room
Where she gives me tissues for a twenty
I did something new
I wrote a rap
Or at least
the beginning
Chris Jun 2014
How to measure:

A table.
take out ruler, string or tape
Size  lines calculate with  retina powered eyes count the spit that flys from open mouths who gather fill it with their laughter,

count the crayon etchings of the determined fire in eyes Thomas the tank engine colorer extroidinair

Weight gain.
Gaze down at waste, shift in skin as you reach  depths in pockets to hide McDonalds receipts and push them in

Do, mental math, one apple a month has got to off set at least one Big Mac

Mileage.
Look at your spedometer Thelma, it's pretty much yelling at you. Take stalk of all the shoes that have  warn you.count backwards from twenty five to Two.

Count the steps you took when you didn't have to, subtract the ones that didn't count and divide by the moments you glide

Growth
Annual reports, minions in Arnold churgen assuring you to stalk up on the market. Your rrsps  with thank you as they soar and plummet as all must on the onslaught of such heights.

Talk to the fifth grader inside you and ask what got me here, was it that Dora the explorer hair cut or the time I didn't give up, that lead to that other time i didn't give up that lead to the time  i pushed quit to the back of my tongue and swallowed it.

A moment.
In corners of mouth stretched outwards in an upward slant.
Those 60 seconds you ranted and most of it was good
That kiss you can still feel as uou tried to hold on to your skin
In the calculated weight of truth transferred to hands in use


Or the science behind the fact that you actually breathed again and  your body, received the donation, the free gift that fuels you, rushes in caresses your sinues and prepares the way for another little wind

I Cherish that wind

One moment, your body will say thankyou very much air, but this relationship of you fueling me and me needing you.. Is baked like that pie your mom doesn't like talking about any more

How does one measure a life
Success, deductibles, YouTube hits,# shout outs, lives touched, damage done, or how many times you actually enjoyed a cinnomon bun without apologizing to your hips

You choose. You choose what measuring tape you wake up with because that's the one they are gonna pull out when the man with the answers recites your yagooogaly

When you measure dare to recall that when the air says adeui and all that is left is your spirit and as your body falls let spirit rise tall
First, Tom Cochran, and next, Rascal Flatts,
sang that
     Life is a Highway
and that's partially true if
you're willing to consider that
     coasting is not an option
that you rarely have the opportunity
to drive hundreds of miles without
rubberneckers or blue Q-Tips driving
     forty in a sixty-five
to drive from Napa to San Diego without
stopping for mixed nuts and a frozen coffee
     and Smartfood
to drive with movie-like abandon without
the Thelma & Louise slo-mo sending you
     careening toward the crevasse
Life is a highway riddled, web-like, with
unexpected off-ramps and
unforeseen on-ramps and
inconvenient detours that take you places
     you never dreamed you'd go
          you never thought you'd end up
but there are
     rest stops and
     diners and
     fruit stands offering organic sunshine
and there are
     flat tires and
     empty tanks and
     road crews repaving your path in 104 degree heat
and there are
     national parks and
     natural wonders and
     the world's largest frying pan
      the world's largest ball of twine
       the world's crookedest road
        the world's newest you
Your life is a highway that is made of
     choices
which lead you on your own
Choose-Your-Own-Adventure
with epic battles for good and evil and
pots of gold at the end of sprinkler-rainbows and
endless hints that
     YOU MAY ALREADY BE A WINNER!!!
Your life is a highway and
     if you miss your off-ramp
accept your new path
           . . . because there's no going back and
     if you miss your on-ramp
enjoy the scenery and the cows and the Texas Stop-Signs
           . . . because you never know when you'll
see them again
Your life is a highway and
     this is your off-ramp, so
take it with
          your eyes open to wonder
          your heart open to magic
          your life open to change
               because that is you evolving
Honor the view in your rearview mirror as you
keep your eyes on the horizon and
     with joy
      with fear
       with electric anticipation
Take your exit!
Krystal M Toney Oct 2020
And in her last moments,
my grandmother turned to me
with tears swelling in her tired eyes
and said
I weep not because of the beauty
which I am leaving
but because of all the beauty
which has yet to come.


I still weep with you.
To my great grandmother. A decade has passed and the pain remains the same, but the beauty you spoke of is so evident.
Yes we are all aging together and it is part of life. There are compensations for me: things not allowed in youth are permissable now. So i gets plenty of ice creams….

I have mailed Carol as I see I am on a big day out next Tuesday so am unable to come over for the meeting, and I am sorry.

I remembered proverbs and wrote the bit below. Please send my greetings to all and also from Rosey. Have a good summer and maybe see you in Port.
Robert Jaensch Dec 2016
One minute moment of I’m OK
A razors edge of lingering doubt
A use by date written for me
This attempt will be the last
Wondering of the peel and reveal
Resilience, bouncing back again
I will know for sure this time around
No more talk of Thelma and Louise
I will exit stage right, walk away
Unmoved by breath of your words
Travel together spinnaker set
Or gybe away, set our own course
Dark n Beautiful Sep 2021
I have remembered you.
I remember, how we  
Spoke of never being separated  
Living together until eternity,
When we were young, we saw things  
In a different light, brighter than most people...
Some might have label, us as Thelma and Louise:
You were kind, you were adventurous, and most of all
You had a heart, but I knew you weren't a lady.
But I respected you back then. (I am puzzle by you now)

The Gambler,” you have to “know when to fold 'em.
Thank you, Kenny Rogers. And I just did it. I walked away
However, I was her best friend, imagine the treatment that she
Done to her sister, was humane,
Leaving her scar for life. (Leaving her wondering Why?)
My kind, adventurous friend: (my Thelma)

The last time I saw her, I didn’t even recognize her
Until, I pulled her sister aside and asked who she was?
Our mind has a protection emotional warning, (at least with mind)
It wouldn’t allowed me to connect her ****** memories:
her ill treatment, toward me, were uncalled for. (Mental abuse)
These days I pour my heart into my writing
Her sister, pours her pain into her cooking,
And as the saying goes practice makes perfect.
She is so good at it. Our way of getting our therapy
Without flattening our wallets. Even breaking the bank
Forgiveness must be earned. But whom or what will
Make the pain of betrayal go away

Psalm 55:12–14
12  For it is not an enemy who taunts me—
then I could bear it;
it is not an adversary who deals insolently with me—
then I could hide from him.
13  But it is you, a man, my equal,
my companion, my familiar friend.
14  We used to take sweet counsel together;
within God’s house we walked in the throng.
I don't believe in ghosts
But recently I've been looking at dead people's profiles on Facebook
And that's about as close as you get
To the dead wandering around
Trying to interact with the living
I watched the end of Thelma and Louise again
And I always get confused depressed and scared
As to why they decide to die even when Harvey Keitel
Is running after them waving his hand in the air
Don't they realize that once they're burning
At the bottom of the Grand Canyon
There's not gonna even be a ghost left
Because Facebook hadn't even been invented yet
Yes I will miss the group this summer and will look forward to September.

Meanwhile I have bought a tub of icecream.


Thank you for your kind words. I like your work also.
topaz oreilly Nov 2012
Sitting pretty Thelma answered
because she was thirsty,
the mildew in the bathroom
reminded her cold air snagged,
random thoughts of the hunting sea grasses
quickened the wish to be free,
a clear voice set in motion
this captive flow .
My whole and entire is YOU
When LOVE-soul-connect happened
At once I knew I was not "I"
I was "YOU"

Not that magnificent as I wanted to
I'm not above others, not lower them
I was covered with dust and ice till then
But now, I can see a thousand births

On your sunlit sparkle dazzle
You turn my vacance illuminate
Foggy became our image of "I"
You just cleared the smoke screen light

Within days, Our lives drenched
Strayed from life to wanderlust again

Natural it was for us to connect
To let us play "AGAPE LOVE" game
Nothing ever un-stitches our bond
No scissors nor knives makes the cut

Stayed, huddled and jagged
You & I - BE part of the cosmic "ONE"
Now, none is wasted in dictum of Holocene

We have arrived on a ramp of LOVE
Head over heels, drove down the streets
Like Thelma and Louise on our feet

OUR LOVE feels like epochs
We be the DUST of the wind
And we think we are still "FREE"
FREE from Life,
FREE to LOVE
She's playing piano on the
car keys
and
the lights have turned green.

Seen anything you're looking for
I said,
I was looking for
the rear door and
the exit.

The man in the Bowler hat
had been there and done most
of that and he was
unimpressed.

I guessed as much as she pushed the pedal to the floor and I know because I've been here before.

Thelma and Louise couldn't squeeze a lemon and find a drop of juice,
so what's the use?
Zack Ripley May 2019
You be my Bonnie, I'll be your Clyde.
Together, we'll take this life for one hell of a ride.
You be my Thelma, I'll be your Louise.
We'll get in the car and do whatever we **** well please.
Life on the run with the one you love may sound fun.
But no matter how far or how fast you go,
eventually you will always fly too close to the sun.
It may seem natural to flee
but it doesn't matter if you run from pain or fear.
Your mind is like an elephant.
It never forgets so your problems will always reappear.
What you choose to do is up to you.
But take it from me.
Talking about your pain will set you free
TheUnseenPoet Mar 2018
It's my birthday today.
45 years old.
I reckon I've got about another thirty years left in the tank before I turn to my best friend in a convertible and go Thelma and Louise style over a cliff.
Whether she likes it or not.
angels welcomed her to heaven
they sang a song of greeting
through death's portal came
her Godly meeting

in a pose of serenity
her soul rests eternally
God's arms shall enfold
her with an infinite love

called home
to peacefulness
called to God's side
in God's kingdom
Thelma
now
resides
Randy Johnson Feb 2019
One day Barney Fife was practicing his quick draw.
He accidentally shot Thelma Lou, he broke the law.
Andy had no choice but to put Barney in jail.
But Andy let Barney out when he said he had a crop of marijuana to sell.
Barney offered Andy a fifty-fifty deal.
But Andy wanted it all, he decided to steal.
He shot poor Barney and dumped his body in Myers Lake.
Andy became furious when he learned the marijuana was fake.
The crop of marijuana turned out to be oregano.
Andy was arrested and jail was where he had to go.
Andy will be pounding rocks for the rest of his days.
The Sheriff soon learned that crime doesn't pay.
Arcassin B May 2014
"Best Of You"
By Arcassin Burnham




i need you next to me,
like thelma and louis,
like Mrs. Smith,
like the ,
covers of the walls,
no spray cans needed,
want to kiss you like,
that scene in twilight,
or maybe we could be,
in an air balloon,
sharing secrets,
its only a matter of time ,
til i love , hug , and squeeze,
i just hope you it soon.
god bless you,
you just sneezed,
love me please.




                                        
"Touch Down"
By Arcassin Burnham


you are an angel in my eyes,
and just wanna love you,
you gave me purpose,
to see another virtue,
want to see you everyday,
and hold you in my arms,
and if i die thinking of you,
gods sends my reguards,
take you guard down,
you just touch down,
when you fell from the sky,
my Angel,

All the boys that ruined your life,
wasnt right for you,
in this case baby ,
i just wanna be that guy for you,
forgetting eachothers exes,
and exchanging kisses,
maybe late talk or text,
wanna be your final wishes,
cause i wish you loved me,
like the boyfriend you never had,
angel scold me,
if it was the last wish you had.
i love you.
http://arcassin.blogspot.com/2013/09/best-of-you-touch-down.html

— The End —