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aria xero Oct 2012
Ashes to ashes

Dust to dust

what remains...

charred piles of torn up memories

Exposed fragments bitter and lost.

Your Mortal fire burns

every piece, Deadly in its wake.

Is it ok?

Us, a tumor Malignant in nature, benign in fiction.

Your flourescent blue

engulfs until full

eating away all.

Ashes to ashes

Dust to dust

Viperous, you lash

your tongue blackening my heart,

Fatal strikes one by one.

A blaze, your eyes bore into my sole,

Threatening to peel away the love.

It's snowing, particles drop to then end, smothering

my lungs arousing,

an Impending thought that we were not to be.

Ashes to ashes

Dust to dust.
Saul Makabim Jun 2012
Routine tests
failed
Number Four reactor
Walls melt, floor buckles
Gamma disaster
one half million men mill
by the banks of the Dnieper
Level Seven Event
Unprecedented disaster
Flesh sloughed off
Rounding the corner
cellular structure instantly scrambled
eggs toast and jelly
Gaze upon the elephant's foot
Bathe in green glowing brilliant stochastic calculation
Mutant dogs roam the tainted halls of Prypiat
Disparities reflect
true death toll unknown
Concerned Scientists shed their lights
on the encircling environment
Glittering glass carpets coat abandoned streets
Creaking Ferris wheel slowly turns into madness
Toxic twin of Fukushima
Thyroid Leukemia Cellular Damage Tumor
the caustic clouds still settling today
Generation after generation
dead women and children
Global impact particle spread
none have been spared
even into tomorrow.
ashley Apr 2013
Description: Sam's not at all who people think he is. He might be quiet, he might be shy, but he also was diagnosed with cancer. When Briar moves to town, she catches Sam's eye. What will happen once the two get closer? Will Briar light a spark in Sam's heart?

-

Distant Memory

Dedicated to my cousin, Blake, who is currently fighting a horrific battle of Lymphoma.



You're probably thinking this is just some clichè love story, one about a girl having a crush on her best friend's brother, or how two people fall madly in love, but it's anything but. This is my story, with a twist unlike any other.

~

It all started in our Junior year of high school. You were new to Wakefield High, just moving here the previous year from New York City. On the first day of school, you were so unsure of yourself, not knowing what to do or where to go. I watched as you made your way through the halls, nudging your way through the crowded bodies as students made their way to class. Even though the halls were tremendously over-crowded, you were easy to spot. Your blonde hair and strikingly blue eyes stood out by the school's bland beige walls. You were more radiant, more powerful and glowing, than anything or anyone in the whole school.

Eventually, you made friends in all the clubs you'd joined - culinary club, photography club, and ASL. I don't know what made you stand out from all the other girls at Wakefield High, but whatever it was, it was strong. I felt drawn to you, like we shared a connection deeper than either of us knew. And it was then when I made it my goal to get to know you.

For the first few weeks, I'd tried bulking up the courage to speak to you. I had planned it all out in my mind. I would talk to you at lunch, right as you gathered your food and headed off to the library like you do every day. That was my chance, and I was determined to stick with it.

On that day, I was behind you in the lunch line. Once you got up there, you ordered a chicken empanada, then headed off to the library in the West wing. I quickly grabbed my lunch, a light Cesar salad, and trailed behind you.

You were walking faster than expected, and I was just too weak. I stopped, holding my knees as I gasped for breath. That was my chance to talk to you, to finally hear your beautiful voice, and I blew it.

It wasn't because of what you think. I couldn't keep up because I was lazy or out of shape, because I was neither of those.

I was diagnosed with Leukemia last October, and after tons of treatment, my doctor said I could try going back to school. I decided it would probably be best for me to live a normal life - as much as normal can get for a boy with cancer. Knowing that I was going to die soon - my doctor predicted I would only last for another year, tops - made me want to get to know you more.

After many wasted days of trying - but failing - to get your attention, I gave up. You were too wrapped up in your new life to even acknowledge my existence. Too busy maintaining your new found reputation, too busy dating a new guy every week. I always thought you were a ***** because of it, that you took advantage of different guys and then left them to crumble to pieces, but all of that changed on that faithful day.

I had gotten dropped off late to school because I had to get tests run at the hospital that morning. I tried to get to class on time, running as fast as I could. Only that didn't work because before you knew it, I was out of breath once again.

I headed over to the restroom, hoping a cool splash of water on my face would do the trick, when I heard wailing in the girls bathroom. I looked over my shoulder before entering, just to be safe. As I closed the door, I locked it behind me.

You were leaning against the wall, knees drawn to your chest as you cried. Noticing a presence, you looked up at me, thick black mascara running down your rosy cheeks. Your eyes were puffy, and I could tell you'd been crying for quite a while.

I didn't know what to say or do at that point, so I did what my heart told me I should do. I held you.

I sat next to you and wrapped my arms around you. Your body seemed small and weak, heaving in my arms. You cradled your head into my neck as tears fell from your bright blue eyes. I didn't bother asking what was wrong. Figured I would at a better time.

Just then, you looked up at me, face flushed and blotchy, and grabbed my hand. It seemed to fit perfectly within yours, our frail fingers intertwined in each others.

I tucked a few of your light blonde strands behind your ears as your cries dwindled. Even after you'd finished crying, you sat with me.

"What's your name?" Your eyes shone with curiosity.

"Sam."

"I'm Briar."

Briar. What a beautiful name. I smiled in your tangled hair. I never in a million years thought I would ever talk to you, and even if I had, I never would have expected it to be quite like this.

"You like Ed Sheeran too?" You asked, your eyes widening in delight as you scanned my shirt. I watched a smile creep to your face, lighting up your gorgeous eyes.

"Yeah, he's my favorite singer," I smile shyly. I can feel the heat rushing to my cheeks, and I feel embarrassed for acting this way.

Ever since then, we began talking. The more we talked, the more I knew how wrong I was about you. You weren't a ***** at all; all the guys you've dated broke up with you, but blamed it on you every time. That's how you got the title as biggest ***** of the school. I felt bad because you were one of the sweetest people I'd ever met, portraying someone you weren't.

I felt like that Ed Sheeran shirt brought me luck. It was the start to our budding friendship.

After a while, you completely changed. You stopped hanging out with the populars, claiming they were never into you anyway. And I found you enjoyed yourself more. I ended up joining the photography club later that year. Whenever we would go out on weekends, I was always taking pictures of you, catching the memories within a moment of time.

You always loved my pictures. As we sat in my bedroom, I'd let you pick out your favorites for you to keep, writing little notes on the back of each picture. Your absolute favorite one was that one of the two of us.

We were in a huge field, smiling as I held you in my arms wedding style. Your blonde hair flew around in all different directions and your eyes held happiness and joy. That was my favorite one too.

I had always had feelings for you, ever since that day in the bathroom, but I'd never have the chance to show you how I really feel. Even if I did, why would you love me back? I have no hair anymore since going through chemotherapy. My body's frail and weak, barely able to stand up on my own.

I had went to the doctors two days ago for more tests, and the doctor found that the tumor in my brain was growing more and more rapidly by the second. Therefore, I would be dying sooner than expected. I only had four days left. My mother held me in her arms as she cried, her wet tears staning my t-shirt.

That night, I called you and told you the news. You cried into the phone, and I wish I was there to hold you, tell you that everything would be okay, that I would be better soon. It was a lie, but I didn't want to hear you sad. I felt bad for being the cause of it.

The next day, I was rushed to the hospital after my mother found my collapsed in my room.

It was then I knew my life was coming to a close. I grabbed a pen and piece of paper, and wrote you a letter.

~

Dear Briar,

If you're reading this, I'm probably gone by now. I just woke up to the dimly lit lights flooding into my room, tubes and needles inside of me. My heart monitor is beeping weakly next to me, and I feel very frail. Cold, frail, and in tremendous pain. You're alseep on the couch right next to my bed and I watch you, take in your beauty for the last time. Your blonde hair is flowing around your head like a halo, your lips look like delicate red rosebuds. Even though I am weak, getting skinnier by the second, I make my way over to your side, kissing you lightly on the forehead.

I never told you about my cancer, and I'm sorry for that. I'm sorry for causing you the pain of me leaving you. I never meant for it to be this way. All I wanted was to live a normal life, and you showed me that there's happiness even in the smallest of places.

When you miss me, look at the pictures of us, pinned to a board on your bedrooom wall. Remember the memories we've had together. Remember the way you always made me smile, the dozens of laughs you filled me with. You showed me how to enjoy life, Briar. And I could never ask for anything more.

You filled my gloomy days with so much laughter I could barely contain myself. Remember me like that, Briar. Remember me happy.

I never realized it before, but I've fallen in love with you; your glowing smile, eyes the color of the raging ocean. I'd never known what love felt like, but I found it with you.

I love you so much, Briar. Never forget that. And remember I'll always be with you.

Love forever and always,

Sam

~

Briar's POV

I woke up to Sam's heart monitor, constantly beeping.Looking at the monitor, I noticed his breaths were slowing.

I made my way over to his bedside, rubbing my thumb gently across his cheek. His eyes were closed as his chest rose every so often.

"If only you knew how much I love you, Sam," I whispered, a single tear falling from my eyes. I watched him smile as he dwindled away.

"Sam? Sam?" My eyes filled with panic as I shook him lightly. "Sam?" My voice rose as I looked at the monitor, seeing the thin red line.

"Help! Somebody help!" I cried. As soon as those words escaped my lips, his hospital room flooded with doctors and nurses. They surrounded him, pushing me away to see what had happened. But they didn't need to. I already knew.

A doctor with black curly hair came rushing over to me. "I'm sorry, but he's gone.."

He's gone... He's gone... He's gone...

Those words rung in my ears, filling my head. I ran over to your bedside, crying my eyes out and practically screaming your name, hoping you'd come back to me.

I lay my head on your unmoving chest, letting my tears soak into your shirt. I noticed a small white envelope on the table next to you, To my sweet love, Briar, was written on it in your handwriting. I stuck it in the back pocket of my jeans before heading out of the hospital, feeling numb and empty.

I reread the letter over and over, tears staining the white lined paper.

"I love you, Sammy," I said, looking up at the bright blue sky. Even though the world seemed empty without you, I know I had to be strong. For you.

On days where I feel I can't bear your absence, I look at the pictures you took, just like you'd asked. I never knew you would change my life in such a drastic way.
A short story I wrote on Wattpad; not that it's any good, but yeah.
mars May 2014
I've given a lot up for you in my short life of fifteen years. I've given up blowing out candles and making wishes and sleep over someone who doesn't even give a **** about me. So, when you, someone who is way past my years yet more of a child then I ever will be, came to me like that yesterday, on a day for women and men who deserve to be praised for being loving parents, all sloppy hugs and cold kisses, I couldn't let you get any farther. For too long have you pushed me aside for alcohol and bruised lips and cigarette smiles and I'm sick of being the one who has to die for your smoking breath. I am so **** tired of having to pretend that what we have is still there, when it never existed. Thank you for the years of abuse and hatred and abandonment, mom.

But the funny thing is that I Can Capitalize Every **** Word and yet you will still never understand what you did to me. With a growing tumor and a shrinking heart, I can't stand the thought of forgiveness. And it's okay because I don't need you. Before, I was just the shell of a scared girl but now it's just my daddy and I and we. don't. *******. need. you. Because we are strong, and brave, and we have learned to love ourselves again.

So I am thankful of you, actually. I'm thankful that you showed me who I can be without you, and you showed me that the person who I am now, never wants to change because of a person like you.
Adorable, black furry divine
With soft coat, shining so fine
Barely two and half months old
Brought it home on wintry cold.

His eyes beholding, sparkling,
He in our arms cosily cuddling,
His drowsy yawns enthralling
His movements, cries marveling.

Five months puppy soon
Heaven sent, a real boon
Friendly, graceful and playful
Muscular and very powerful.

Mood enhancer, happiness bringer
Our canine aptly named Winner
Furry pawed, with a furry exterior
Beneath, an utterly amazing interior.

Well bred, well trained, a looker
Loyal, gentle, handsome Winner
Symbol of trust and patience
Furry friend known for jubilance.

Winner's choice, my little boy
Forever running, jumping, to enjoy
Both definitely each other's toy
And undoubtedly each other's joy.

Nose driven, very nice napper
Waggy tailed, insect inspector
Nimble footed, munchy muncher
Winner, entertainer and energizer,

Hanging ears, so sensitive
Eyes expressive, so active
Our hunting, sporting companion
Our sniffing, rescuing champion.

His soulful eyes, full of affection.
But soon came his health deception
Suffering dreadful tumor, infection
All  endeavours for his protection.


He spoke but with passion
To who knew, how to listen
Our canine, God of fun-frolic
Suddenly silently melancholic.


Our firmest friend very sweet
Winner, a heartbeat at our feet.
His arrival, profound happiness
His passing away, sheer sadness.


Winner's oblivion, few decades old
His special memories, we still hold
He orbits in an unknown universe
In his memory, these lines of verse.

@Preeti Pathak
Overwhelmed Feb 2015
coming out of sickness like a phoenix
(awkward, damaged, but passionately
aflame with the chances of a new life),
I drove in the early mornings, before
the sun could catch the glint of my eyes,
and listened to quiet music about worlds
unspoiled and dreams unperverted

at sixteen, I had just survived my first
battle with the end (the tumor was gone
but it took half my mouth with it) and
I didn’t know what that meant yet

nothing was good but
everything was better

the cool, dark air tingled my skin with
the strangeness of a blind man’s first
sight

the music helped
for the moment
uncomplete
Jon Tobias May 2013
"You've gotten so tall"
she says

"It's only been a few months" I tell her
She looks directly into my mouth as I speak
Her face is different
Hair
Even the way she smells
I can't place it
but it is ugly

"You're taller"

"You drank yourself blind. I haven't changed"

"You know you were a c-section
Cut out like a tumor?"

"I know"

I remind myself
that forgiveness
and being cordial
and finding peace
can often be different things

She holds her elbows out
and my father helps lower her to the couch

"I'm coming home soon," she says
"You're going to have your mother back."

I am leaving soon I tell her
and I am never coming back
Johnny Noiπ Nov 2018
Surface of the sand, the void, the garden in the sand of the love of the hills.
     He had lately been married to a spouse
who occasions grave mainstream the light
of the work of man a monster, the area
of ​​the area the name of fire in writing,
they sit sitting on the living room sit
sitting watching the witches **** with
the fear of chilling the area out without
the Turkish police; The spirit of the wilderness
causes it to rain safely on the cornerstone
of the love of his shadow may fall enough
to fool an injury not indeed the dancer;
Thank you, my love carrots beautiful
Devil who rarely got up in group that with all his heart,
hot and bells and a nice stew, hot water,
and a fever: "I am the Lord God is free,
but that, Russian Michael .. .. .. .. .. .. heart
and Crochet Rak .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. ... ...
I love you . .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. "" George and Korva,
Markos roasted "life" and "life";
show daughter
Since the right of the right color clothes
for little girls.
Christ is of course, to defend them in the sea,
with a great salvation.
But the effect is good ... very good;
The animals in Africa, Asian homosexuals
are black in April in London ...
In fact, private, Iran, Russia, John Hearne.
I, my friend Shopping center next
to a cafeteria high on dust, in a white dress
the sand of the love of the mountains,
the rise of leading a conjugal life, a serious
service in the light of the work of man,
a monster,
only the buildings are burned to only reinstate
the writings of the sat down and sit in a session
of Him that sat with witches children,
and children are warmed by the threshing-floor
without the police of Turkey; The spirit of the wilderness,
cause it to rain, I have sought the security
of the shadow to bring all into the flames
are pretty fool, they must actually;
And thanks to the war devil love film
that rarely got a group that with all his heart,
and the wind and the bells and it's nice
in hot water
with fever: "I am the Lord God is free,
but because of the multitude of yours;
those twins are more. Crochet and Michael Petraki ... .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .... .. .. .. .. .. .. .. I love you .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. ' " "Γιώργος and Korva, Markos roasted» Zoe, and Zoe
show daughter
Since the right of the right color clothes for little girls.
Christ is of course, to defend them in the sea,
with a great salvation.
But the effect is good ... very good;
On April animals in Korea, Africa black spider in London ...
In fact, private, Iran, Russia, John Hearne.
I am a friend of the
Shopping center by the sea.
And the wedding was the last and the sum
of the nature of the out of the holes
in buried in the palm tree in the garden
of love and the grains of sand in the threshing
floor or juice on the Book of the pistol,
a work composed of the name
of the bringing forth, and sat and sat down
in the country and on the young men
who sat with the witches that they relax
in the **** and in the wilderness they rain
no rain in the the shadow of a corner
of the chamber that have done evil indeed
is willing, but the flesh without the love
of Touk for the exercise of the police station,
he says, as to be almost, because he is stupid
the words that ye have heard. I appreciate
a beautiful love story of the devil who rarely
entered the group as a whole heart and bells
and nice and slowly, warmer water and a fever:
"I am the Lord, God is also free. Those who
love friends who do not believe, that accused
the Koran is not ugly in nature, with the greatest
military leader of the United States in September ...
high sand empty paradise sand love hills birth
late married married heavy guy light try one
man monster floor floor fire score writing sitting
sitting living room sitting sitting witches ****
and little kids chilling in the area without police
Tuok's ghost desert rain the safe corner love
shadow all flames fall quite stupidly wrong, in fact,
a dancer's meat already defeated *******
of the big blonde ladies germinating down
Evan's autumnal mother planet, global planet
hit the coup date, mice live birds wind die
talking just before The nature of light is the body of light like a welding roller. Thank you in the love film of the beautiful devil who rarely got a group to use with all his heart, with wind and bells and nice and slow, hot, water and fever: "I am the Lord, God is free, but for what: many of the three personal friends who loved those who have not withdrawn us from the Koran and accused them of believing in bad nature, how great is the expulsion for the first time ... The US Army in September ... buried in the Caucasus, Russia, Crochet and Michael Petraki .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. ... ... .. .. .. I love you .. .. ... .. ".. .. .. .. .." «George and Korva, Markos Asso« Life »and« Life »,
Show your daughters
With the right clothes and the right color for the girls.
Without a doubt, the salvation of God in the life of the great sea.
But the result is good ... very good;
Of the animals and black prostitutes of Africa-Korea in April in London ...
In fact, private, Iran, Russia, John Hearne.
I my friend am going to the Shopping center
next to the cafeteria. high sand blank white sand love hills birth married married heavy service light try a man monster floor apartment fire floor writing writing sitting sitting sitting sitting witches children and children cooling off in the area without police, Tuok's ghost desert rain
on my corner safe love shadow fall all the flames are pretty stupid,
they are actually a meaty dancer ready for victory, ladies pull their big *******
down to reveal blond buds
Evan autumn Planet the planet hit the gun today A,
the live mice of the wind energy will die,
just talking before the nature of light be the light of the body,
like welding clothes. I thank you in the beautiful devil's love film
that he rarely got a group to use with all his heart and with the wind
and the bells and nice hot water and fever: "I the Lord God am free,
but because of many products they are twins, more than three personal
friends who are loved by those who have not withdrawn from the Koran
and accused them of believing in bad nature; how great is the abolition
of the first ... The US Army in September ... buried in the Caucasus,
P as well as the Crochet and Michael Petrak ... .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. I love you .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. "« «Γιώργος and Korva, Markos Asso» Zoe & Zoe,
Show me your daughters
With the right clothes and the right colors
for the girls. Without a doubt, the salvation of God
is in the life of the great sea.
But the result is good ... very good;
Of animals and black spider Africa-Korea
in April in London ...
In fact, private, Iran, Russia, John Hearn.
I'm a friend of mine
Shopping center by the sea.
The wedding was the last, the highest nature,
with the holes buried in the palm tree
in the garden of love to the sand in the threshing
of a writing pistol, the work of the name
of the hatchling sitting sitting in the village
and the children sitting with the witches
and when they relax on the **** and the desert
they make rain in the corner of the room without the love of Touk
for practicing the shadow of the one who was bad,
in fact he is willing, but the flesh is silly because
almost a police station says that the words are heard.
the yellow star of the makeup drawers puts her voice down
and down in the background of Mrs. Evan Strikes
Hits the autumn of the planet of gold because
under the face the body is the day of death;
knowledge and birds of the light As soltiora
are present in the tumor. I appreciate a beautiful
love story of the devil, who rarely entered the group
to use with all your heart and bells and a nice
slower, warmer water and fever: "I am the Lord,
God is still free. who love friends who have not
come to believe that the Koran is accused
of being ugly in nature with the greatest military leader
of the United States in September ... tall empty
sand paradise sand love hills late birth marriage
married heavy duty light interior try a monster
man gun floor floor writing score sitting sitting
sitting sitting sitting witch **** and young kids
chilled in the area without the policeman
Turk's ghost in the desert rain of my safe corner
love shadows fall all the flames pretty stupid
wrong really a meat dancer ready victory over
ladies ******* big blond bottoms sprout like heaven
autumn Planet Mom leg is hitting the gun today,
the living wind capacity mice will die, speaking
just before the nature of light is the body's light like wedding robe.
Thank you in the love movie of the beautiful devil that he was rarely
got a group to use it, with all his heart, and in the wind and bells,
and nice with slow, hot water and fever: "I am the Lord God is free,
but why? "Many products are twins. Most three personal friends
who are dear to those who have not removed us from the Koran,
and accused them of the belief of bad nature, how great is the removal
of the first time. The US Army in September ... buried in Caucasus,
Russia, Crochet and Michael Petrak. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. ..
I love you .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. . .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. "" George and Korva,
Mark Asso "Zoe" and "Zoe"
Show the Daughters
With the right clothes and the right paint for the girls.
Without a doubt, the salvation of God in the life of the great sea.
But the result is good ... very good;
From the animals and black Africa-Korea
in April Prostitutes in London ...
In fact, private, Iran, Russia, John Hearn
Me, my friend; Shopping center by the café
high sand blank paradise sand love hills birth
married married service heavy light inside
try out a monster man gun floor floor writing a score
sitting sitting sitting sitting sitting sitting sitting
watching witches **** and chilled children in the area
without the police tuok ghost desert rain my safe corner
love the shadows fall all the flames pretty stupid
bad really a meat dancer ready victory ladies *******
big bottom blonde sprout Evan autumn
Planet mom getting pawed is hitting the gun today,
the live wind capacity mice will die, just talking
before the nature of light is the light of the body
like the wedding robes. Thank you in the love movie
of the beautiful devil who rarely got a group to use,
with all his heart, and in the wind and the bells,
and nice with the hot water and fever: "I am the Lord God is free,
but why? "Many products are twins. Most of the three personal friends
who are loved by those who have not withdrawn us from the Qur'an
and have accused them of believing in bad nature, how great is the elimination of the first time. The US Army in September ... buried
in the Caucasus, Russia, Crochet and Michael Petrak. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. I love you .. .. .. .. .. .. ".. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .."
"George and Korva, Mark Asso" Zoe "and" Zoe "
Show the Daughters
With the right clothes and the right paint for the girls.
Without a doubt, the salvation of God in the life
of the great sea.
But the result is good ... very good;
Of the animals and the black ******* Africa-Korea in April in London ...
In fact, private, Iran, Russia, John Hearn.
I my friend
Shopping center by the sea.
the marriage was, she lately had the highest type of nature,
with the empty are dull of the palm tree in the garden of the love
of the sand within the threshing-floor of a gun of writing,
the work of the name of the hatching of the sitting
is sitting on the ground, sat down, and boys are sitting down
sitting with witches, and when relaxing
with their **** out in the desert,
cause it to rain in my spirit in the corner of space
without the love of the police Tuk shadows of that which was evil,
indeed, is willing, but the flesh is a fool,
for almost a police station that the flames
ascended
receives the yellow star of the makeup drawers
putteth forth its voice, to fall down and the bottom
of the ladies' Evan Strikes Hit the autumn of the planet of gold
for it is under the aspect of the body is the day of death, utter vain knowledge and the fowls of the light as its solutiora
presented themselves on the volume. I appreciate
a beautiful love story of the devil, who rarely got in the group
to use with all your heart, and wind bells
and pleasant with a slower, hot water, and a fever:
"I am the Lord, God is still free. But the three persons
are those who love the friends that we have not gone
into believing that the Quran is accused of bad nature that,
with the largest uS military chief in September ... ...
buried in the Caucasus, Russia, and Crochet, Michael Petrak .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. ..
E like "Giorgi and Korva, roasted, Markos" Zoe, "and" life "
show daughter
Since the right of the right color clothes for little girls.
Undoubtedly, at the salvation of salvation, upon the great sea.
But the effect is good ... very good;
Africa black prostitutes, an atoll empty sand paradise
sand love hills late birth marriage married heavy
duty light interior try a monster man gun floor floor
writing score sitting sitting sitting sitting sitting
witch **** and young kids chilled in the area without
the police tuk ghost desert rain my safe corner love
shadows fall all the flames pretty stupid wrong really
a meat dancer ready victory ladies ******* big blond
bottom sprout Evan autumn Planet Mom's leg
is hitting the gun today, the living wind capacity
mice will die, speaking just before the nature
of light is the body's light like a welding robe.
Thank you in the love movie
of the beautiful devil that he was rarely got a group to use it,
with all his heart, and in the wind and bells,
'and nice with slow, hot water and fever:
"I am the Lord God is free, but why? "Many products
are twins. Most three personal friends who
are dear to those who have not removed us
from the Koran, and accused them of the belief of bad nature,
how great is the removal of the first time.
The US Army in September ... buried in the Caucasus,
Russia, Crochet and Michael Petrak. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. ..
I love you .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. . .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. "
"George and Korva, Mark Asso "Zoe" and "Zoe"
Show the Daughters
With the right clothes and the right paint for the girls.
Without a doubt, the salvation of God in the life of the great sea.
But the result is good ... very good;
From the animals and black Africa-Korea in
April Prostitutes in London ...
In fact, private, Iran, Russia, John Hearn
Me, my friend
Shopping center by the café
high sand blank paradise sand love hills birth
married married service heavy light inside
try out a monster man gun floor floor writing
score sitting sitting sitting sitting sitting
sitting
sitting witches **** and chilled children in the
area without the police tuck's ghost desert rain
my safe corner love the shadows fall all the flames
pretty stupid bad really a meat dancer ready
victory ladies ******* big bottom blonde sprout
Evan autumn Planet mom paw is hitting the gun today,
the live wind capacity mice will die, just talking before
the nature of light is the light of the body
like the welding robes. Thank you in the love movie
of the beautiful devil who rarely got a group to use,
with all his heart, and in the wind and the bells, and nice
with the hot water and fever: "I the Lord God
am free, but why? "Many products are twins.
Most of the three personal friends who are loved
by those who have not withdrawn us from the Qur'an
and have accused them of believing in bad nature,
how great is the elimination of the first time.
The US Army in September ... buried in the Caucasus,
Russia, Crochet and Michael Petrak. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. ..
I love you .. .. .. .. .. .. ".. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .."
"George and Korva, Mark Assoc." Zoe "and" Zoe "
Show the Daughters With the right clothes
and the right paint for the girls.
Without a doubt, the salvation of God in the life
of the great sea. But the result is good ... very good;
Of the animals and the black ******* is African-Korean
in April in London ...
In fact, private, Iran, Russia, John Hearne.
I and my friend will be at the Shopping center by the sea...
mike Aug 2015
my seeds convulse
with caustic
adrenal
fire.

a mutiny to melt
the will from my want.

a life grows inside me
a tumor with teeth and hair

to leave me

to chew
through the weight that i wear.

it leaves me
like a spirit
to possess you.
Ma Cherie Oct 2016
You asked me why I write,
why I daily hope again to fight,
as I ignite it takes my sight,
like lovers in the heated night,
& nothin' but a pure delight,
musta  been a true birthright

It covers me & smothers me,
engulfing me in flames
a place for me to point some blame,
& bury me unwanted shame,
I know that this is not a game,
& not for fame
& not for fate,
I already gotta a real full plate,

& hey they say it's not too late,
I am banging on the waiting gate,
let out the angry angels
& let out the long forgotten hate,
it's a crazy little bit of spate,

I took a pill, was feeling ill,
& went along against my will
it takes my heart and runs
it shakes apart, in booming guns

It's a hiding cluster
& I'm a wordsmith hustler
guess a real crime buster,
yeah I think I trust her,
ya know that shiny luster,

Hope is dope, grab a rope,
the drugs, the thugs,
the tiny little budding nugs,
the tipping back of happy mugs,
giving you a little hug,
a white hot plug,
electrifying baby
an aiming slug,
try to get me maybe,
a stinging bug,

Ouch that hurt!
while rubbing in a little dirt,

It bites & bites,
& then I writes,
again, again, again
again,
yes its true my poet friend,

My hands they move to a different beat,
& down a different funky street
with moving feet,
it's groovy, neat,
& this is sounding really sweet
it repeats, repeats, repeats,

Awaiting  dictating
sometimes  frustrating,
enticing & slicing
my hands always dicing
& giving me pricing
sweet just like icing,

Skating through life,
finding creating,
all the press is still waiting,
and me it is bating,
I'm hating the dating,
'cept while we are mating,
sweet, sweet loving
& good turtle doving
is soooo satiating ; )

Sometimes I'm grieving,
but always believing
& ever retrieving,

There is a voice
it's not a choice,

I hear it now
they tell me how,
a sense of humor
I heard a rumor
a cancer's tumor,

In the radio
the tower on the mountain
my pens leaky fountain,
signaling changes in the weather,
calling me birds of another feather
when that lone whistle blows,
wherever my shoes may go
as high as any flower grows,
leaves of fall & winter snow,
what the tallest cedar knows,

What about the crescent  moon
& how those lovers kiss & swoon,
this could be such a boon,
like incandescent bulbs
come
May in  bloom,
& hearts with maybe too much room,

Aggravating spirits

A fever spikes,
so I must take
a farther hike,
a stronger bike
peddling & meddling,
shining & pining
sometimes I'm whining,
in the brilliant ink
it's the deepest well,
the very deepest sink,
I'm in the drink, I shouldn't blink,
Nevermind to stop and think

Like lidocane I am tot'ly  numb
my mind alive & feeling dumb,
it's sticking like a piece of gum
as I come all done,
I know I'm not the only one,
captured by the guilty sun

Metaphors the seep my veins
taking with them tired chains
my chest can breath without the pain

Ahhhh so sublime,
it's why I rhyme & rhyme
why my voice it chimes,

Say what you mean
and mean what you say
because the Sun is gonna
rise on some other day,
& anyway
as a coloring book streaks
& takes away the ugly bleak,
to seal up the finding leak
I must write if I can't speak,

In the deepest midnight skies
I think I heard an angel sigh,
she saw a falling passerby,

Turn it up,
till death comes again
sometimes it comes, a long lost friend
one my pen it will defend,
my heart it might be on the mend,
when pain to me, it looks real pretty,
& getting kinda nitty gritty,
and scars bleed too
from me & you,
we bleed our truth,
in wisdom of our years and youth,

In deep crevasses of beauty
it's a poets certain duty,
the bones we bury deep
in messages they seep,
& tiptoe 'round and creep,

I dream, I hope
I hold on a rope,
I'm dizzied by the angles dope,
in a hurry and in our worry,
we want to be saved
calling from a darkened grave,
watching shadows dance,
as they kiss in sweet romance
hoping for another chance,

Don't wanna be played,
in death to be slayed,
plunging a sticking blade,
& down my enemy is quickly laid,

Rescue me poet
you are, you are & you know it too,

Sleep peacefully at night,
live your life & say it right,
you keep the lid on way to tight,
open it, let it out
just scream & shout
but never doubt,
hey you got clout,
releasing the way
in every word you speak and say,

Listen intendedly
& contentedly
find a beat,
& take a seat
have a treat
just grab a pen,
& say it again, again,
a heart you know you must defend,

I hold teardrops in my hands
I hold them out & as they land,
release me in the said demands,
a clench my fist,
& I slit a wrist,
bleeding & needing,
just keep reading
love is breeding,

I tighten up,
I take a sup,

I reach you & as you teach me
as every one of you beseech me,
as minds are racing
and hands retracing,
as I'm embracing,
the poet's calling,
again, again I'm always falling
falling,
in love with life,

Like lightning in a bottle
I'm a genie,
& holding on the throttle,
my heart BEATS like the rain
I feel it's endless painted pain ,
it's electric & hectic,
I'm a gentle bird
a voice I hope is duly heard,
can be wounded easily
though strong in storms,
I fly again,
& can't be warned,

I'll never fly too far
I must reach the closest star,
touching souls,
drifting & sifting
words I'm grifting,
I'll never go without saying so
no matter where a poet goes
or what the traveling picture shows,

A hazy start
an aiming dart
a broken down ol' heart
a silly **** (haha)
a nice full grocery cart,
I'm acting kinda smart,
a glowing celestial chart,
cuz ya know
I think that this is art
especially when we drift apart
and even more when we depart,

Note taking for granted
as my feet are planted,
words they are slanted
& dark art is chanted,

If words cut deeper than a knife
Just write me out and bring me back to life

There is always a compelling story
one of histories honored glory,
& even if it's kinda gory,
I gotta a suitcase to pack
a train to get on back track,
pick up the slack
sometimes derailed by life,
divorced from reality,
as once I was a loving wife,

To tell & share
a way to find, a way to care,
& yes we must, we must dare,
words can't bring me down
hey, I love that endless sound,
fall & crash back to the ground,

I am beautiful
& you are too,
I know these things,
I know it's true
skies above they are so blue
a color that looks good on you

I hear a rap repeating tap
leavings of  unwanted scrap,
a song that I still can sing
I hear a voice, my voice it rings
another soul,
a bell it dings,
a dance left to dance
a chance of romance,
a hand left to hold,
the shiniest gold
treasure for seekers,
for look at life peepers,
I hope it's a keeper,
I'm delirious but serious,

Game changers & rearrangers,
in infection & detection
not won in a election
a sugary confection
in delusions & illusions
& constant intrusions,
the magic is tragic,
ecstatic & fanatic
this curse could be worse,
you could be me
as I bleed ink
& quickly blink,
can't stop to think
or ever take a tiny drink

Kick the ceiling
minds are reeling & keep feeling
just touch it
just do it to it,
come in undo it,

It's a really deep well,
so I gotta tell it
& I try to sell it,
close my eyes & try smell it
wave a wand & even spell it,

I want to take a sip
so hear my families battle yip,
my heart it just skips & skips
a wandering blip
just take a little skinny dip,
here's a little helpful tip,

We gotta spill it,
need to **** it
because they drill it  
way down deep,
in veins they seep,
Oh my ****
I think I'm struck
& now I'm stuck
by luck or fate
in love and hate,
it's been a date,
I had to wait,
it's been real great,
I can rate & keep it straight
Pick up the weight,

I can avoid or be annoyed,
I tell,  I yell
my soul, I'd sell,
say in a way you understand,
so poet here's the perfect plan, Stan
I want to dive
so we survive,
& feel alive,
live vicariously through my words,
know your voice, it too is heard,

As water & gasoline
is touching my skin
as I reach out, to be new again
reaching out to find a friend
I'm burning down
& hit the ground
a violent sound,
I turn around,

I swim inside the glistening wet,
to clean my life from sins & sweat,
& anything I might regret,

Carbon Copy

If there is a God,
in him I say, I'm truly awed,
I'll find out too,
I'm humming right along with you,
we cannot undo
the sticky glue & residue,
words we pray
& ones we say, & where we lay
or head to pray,

Say what I think
stand at the brink,
& take nice long lasting drink,
let the indigo ink,
just let it flow,
write it down as you go,
& let a shining spirit glow,

Earths angels
party hard, & learn harder
we work just a little smarter,
get it down
get it right
as it hits the ground,
I'm kicked around,
poetic sounds
as ears they pound,

Sometimes the rain
in tears and sun
sometimes a battle
or a war we won
sometimes I cry, inside I sigh,
or walking in a dessert dry,
my pen will tell & never lie
protect me as I wait to die,
painting words in pictured skies,
so many left unsure goodbyes,
diamonds fall from tears they cry,
I sometimes think that I,

I can't go on
until I hear a poignant song,
please won't you come along,

Sometimes my feet are on the run
those setting tangerine skies
the blistering hot & sweltering sun,
illuminating my darkest ink,
& every thought I try to think,
a Titanic ship can sink,
when you need help
I'll beg & steal
try my best
to make you feel
when you are suffering
& life not buffering,

I'll believe
in tomorrow
find time we can borrow
a bottle to drown out every sorrow
I'll love you when you're gone
this is a place where I belong
together we can sing along,
a crutch for a rugged heart
a gift of life,
a brand new start,
so don't be crude or ever rude,

I am human too
just like them, just like you,
a drum don't stop beating
or keep on repeating,
Keep me up,
give me a cup,
keep me going,
& ever knowing,

My heart it never does take rest
after the most grueling test,
it beats & it heats,
in the pain &  the rain
I can't stop this ugly vain
raised it from its darkened bed,
now it demands, I hear it said,
every single word
that anyone
has ever said, I heard,
crashing burning
I am ever learning,
& always yearning
a day I'm earning,
to get a chance,
just one last dance
before its over
to kiss the clover,
my starry rover,
an Australian drover,

To be rendered useless
if my words are fruitless,
if said in vain,
against the grain,
it doesn't matter
as tears they shatter
the sky it sets
but you can almost always bet
I'll be writing of you
& love that's true,

& everything that's beautiful
trapped in Autumn's wind
with tombstone eyes,
caught  again in sad goodbyes,
please baby don't you cry
stupid cupid,

The bittersweetness
of our yesterday's
I feel it in the touch
one you want so very much
again come tomorrow's light
again I will take another flight,
again I bleed the poets plight,
I pray for vision
hope & sight
listen & get it write,
I know I will win the fight
burning lamps into the night

Add, edit, do that again
hold a hand & be a friend,
be a lover and a mother,
celebrate & graduate,
follow & lead
ask of us  & beg & plead,
I will not be afraid,
filling every heart it's need
drowning out the sounds of greed

There is nothing to fear but fear itself,
no truer statement
could have ever been uttered
  whispered,  or muttered,
like sweet Fred that stuttered
warm wheat bread that's buttered,

It's why we rhyme,
we are chasing after time,
yup, your words & mine,

I go unafraid into darkened night
and even with my blinded sight,
lit by scars & brilliant stars,
candles snuffed out too soon
caught by the tail of the crescent moon,

I'm mesmerized I can't move my feet
unless I hear that haunting beat,
as demons flee in sweet defeat,
at times I carry the weight of the world
& that of my children,
that they too are heard
ancestors calling as I,
I am,
I am always
falling,

Afraid to close my eyes,
& look at the skies,
afraid of that surprise,
and each day I awake,
grateful for what I take,

I rise up,
a phoenix from ashes
& blinking eyelashes,
while I can still see
sight please find a plan,
left upon a grain a sand,
I'm made of glass & paper
I got a pass  hey what a caper,

Wake it up & take it up
just make it up
it'll be just fine,

I must go unafraid into the long night
an endless spinning soulful top
one that I hope won't soon stop
I am like an aurasma
my own Galaxy
past the Milky Way
Listen close to what I say,

As demons flee & I can see
in every lovely memory,
please say you'll remember me
& our history,
kicked around & on the ground
I still hear that painful sound
I think I'll  even maybe drown,

I might be a muse
that the heavens abuse
or my words that they want to use,
intentions are everything,
listening & glistening

Watch me burn,
ya know I never learn,
don't put me out,
or even pout
we can't doubt,
hear me fry,
Cuz I,

I just keep swimming
as waters are brimming,
& stones are we are skimming
tredding in cold waters,
waves pull me under,
fires grow hotter,
a thinking blotter,
cleaving bones I am asunder
& broke apart by rampant thunder,

Breathless & gasping
my hands are grasping
in desperation & despair
cannot pretend that I don't care,
something that I must share,
I see a shore,
& I've seen it before,
just beyond the waiting door,

A mascara smudge
but please don't judge,
or hold a silly hateful grudge
I'm through the wading of the sludge
I just wouldn't budge,
it just took a nudge,

Because a beautiful mind
one so very, very kind,
protected by the hands of time
a precious thing
a voice, I sing
heard in my poetic choice,
undiluted  not refuted
undisclosed, many ohhh's
a twitching nose,
teaching all in what we know
to be silent is a terrible wasted gift
to not hear that sound,
bring a voice around,
the voices ring,
I've had a taste,
my shoes are laced
I can keep the pace,

To not write,
to seal the vain,
relief from pain,
would be a terrible waste
of a divinely inspired pen. ❤

Cherie Nolan© 2016
Why I write, some of it. I've been asked this question by a few so hope that answers some questions : )
John F McCullagh May 2015
In the bowels of a prison, in a tomb of concrete, for twenty three hours a day-
The “Teflon Don” was alone all that time, free only to scream, curse, or pray.
To seek refuge in madness most men would resort, but that was not John Gotti’s way.
He was chained when he showered; by the guards he called cowards,
he saw the Sun seldom these days.

His mind oft would drift back to better days at the Bergin hunt and fish-
Playing cards with friends and cronies who indulged his every wish..
He recalled how he rose to be Don; it was a blood drenched throne,
but, unlike his predecessor, he would die slowly and alone

Cancer took his lower jaw; he gummed what food he ate.
Four grey walls surrounded him, the door an iron gate.
His tumor soon metastasized; that death was imminent was plain.
Although John Gotti was in agony he took nothing for the pain.

He would not chance a mental lapse, a confession overheard.
He would not give the ******* that; he would not say a word.
He died choking on his own blood, his corpse lay still and cold.
It was then, and only then, the Feds released their hold
John Gotti Sr, the "Don" of the Gambino crime family was imprisoned in the Federal Penitentiary in Marion Illinois. he was held in a an underground concrete cell 23.5 hours each day in solitary confinement. Gotti contracted Cancer while in prison and died a slow and painful death from cancer of the jaw and throat.
Leah Riley Mar 2012
The decrepit and the sacrificial juveniles
sit like stones
behind tarnished shadows
and I wonder how grandma can age alone
not missing the empty echo of orange juice
on good porcelain
never used for breakfast
until the tumor spread past his eye
but her eyes
still veil something
hollow

she says deeshes
just like she did before
when he was fighting
to find her
through chemicals
where syllables are
out of order

despite my best half-holiday smile
she still takes care of that
40 year old teenage aunt
still a victim
of a world that will never give her children a chance
but maybe it’s healthy
healthy
like orange juice
just before
chemo

I could still see
in the shadows behind of a vacant pupil
nothing
had changed
Mike Hauser Apr 2013
The power never satisfies
The hunger in it's eyes
Bearing sharpened teeth
Preying on the weak
Portrays itself as free
With the powers that be
When there is nothing else
It will pounce upon itself

FEED THE LION

With it's mighty paws
Disregarding natures laws
Purring like a kitten
The innocent are smitten
The Big Cat plays by jungle rules
Other rules are for utter fools
Predators are all the same
In how they play the game

THE MIGHTY LION

A King that once ran free
But that was not meant to be
Pulled down by it's own greed
Brought to it's very knees
A tumor no man could see
Inside out is how it bleeds
Now that the Lion feels the need
It's to late to set it free

*CAGE THE LION
Sridevi Feb 2011
Your last note

lay pressed between

the yellow pages in my heart

to mingle with the

scent of red roses

and crusted tears…


Greedily I wait

for another one

my eternal Valentine

I love you


(For Hemu who got admitted in the hospital on 12thFebruary 2008 ,and after battling with a deadly tumor left us on 18th March 2008)
William A Poppen Dec 2016
advertisement beckoned
free screening
trouser thuds upon hardwood
metal belt buckle clinks
gloved finger
probes to find
a nodular protrusion
resting sac bound
begotten, benign
now watch, wait

shall it birth
some high grade
tumor
with a passionate
desire to consume
the whole of you

vigilant
on guard
living
on edge
for inevitable
struggle
around each
new scrutiny
of numbers
presented in decimals
detectors of death
prowling
seeking to find
an oasis
to plant
to grow
Cancer, fear, prevention, examination
JG O'Connor Jun 2016
I think about Shane in the middle of the night,
For no apparent reason.
No telegraph arrives to remind me.
Just immediately caught unawares,
By the timeline of months days and hours,
Since he left.

There is substance to his departure.
He doesn’t park in my spot anymore,
His seat on the couch is empty,
His opinion is not heard,
He doesn’t come with us to the matches,
He doesn’t eat hotdogs at half time,
He doesn’t buy his round anymore.

There were many beginnings to his departure.
Some noticed and some dismissed,
The shaved head,
The weight gain,
The staying in bed,
The tiredness,
The missed team practice,
His soft quietness rather than his razor wit.



There was a documented record to his departure.
The consultant’s diagnosis.  
The recorded return of the tumor like a badly made film sequel,    
Chemo 1, Chemo 2, Chemo3.
The morphine drip beating out the measuring of the waiting.
The finite final breath.
Our hearts stopped with his as he departed the room,
Dressed in a suit and Despicable me Socks ….Only you Shane!
The Final notice in the paper recording the date and time of departure.  

There were things left behind after his departure.
Mainly my daughter’s young heart.
As I lie awake in the darkness where death accompanies me till the dawn,
And then as one bright day follows the next,
I dismiss my own departure,
Until I think of Shane again.
Brent Hamilton Aug 2014
Needlepoint threadbare caucus with an instant Kodak box camera filled nitrite
Like the sun-kissed barely lit beaches over Normandy
Stormed into the kitchen with a missile and an avalanche to overpower the pirates
With their long-forgotten and ill begotten flagship armada
The flowers hang low and the nooses lower with ever-present danger of going over
The needle hits skin puncture left right down touch your toes uplift like the cross
Arms hung low over the alabaster sky with a long trench-coat and wary eyes
Cloud cover start to blow the cover and touch the roller coaster coffee cup sitting
With an eye to the glass and the telescope lens flare catch like the door latch
Down to the basement with the worn out sofa sit alone like the bedraggled soldier
With his dog tags hanging like a sign of the times down to where his feet locked
To the floor in an instant with the bombshells all around and a seductive twist
The ring and fling the pin out count down begins to the gravity shift consciousness
Like the cancer patient under the knife the tumor’s removed the chemo begun
With the bulb burning down over a hospital bedside and the white sheets lingering
Smell of a machine gone bad turned tail like the redcoats running down the chute
With the mail to the end of the day the laundry’s out to dry on the steel clothesline
Their bolt cutters damage the elderly couple hanging from the tree with the cymbal
Underneath like the gong of the undertaker the dam’s release
The water runs down to cleanse the disease and carries the pathogens to find their caprice and restraint held back on the man in the chair with vacant eyes and half
Muttered prayers to an unknown God with long white beard
Sitting alone under a payphone like the cold-dead wires of a long gone bee hive
Mind pictures play off the words on my tongue like an over-told rhyme
The nursery songs and bells and whistles come together to form an indignant sound
Like the steel clap trap of the boot black against the pale white walls of the by-gone
Era with a viscosity of ancient monolithic capacity
Sourdough rising like the falling red sun over the horizon sit and contemplate the weather-worn-battle-torn visage of man remembered yet never met
Till death and earth turn and burn in the ascending light of the pale moon
Wolf-howl over the distant city lights like the mournful wail of a banished soul
Away from home for ever so long with a comb to the palace in the heart of the beast
It sings for summer and faraway places of the corporeal magic in an elemental fashion show sip the martini glasses ***** and break and shatter like popcorn
In the kettle boil over the levee let it sink down into the visage of a man in the underground coat around the tails of the whipped dogs running like hell.
I know you haven't heard from me in years .
I thought I'd write just to let you know that Tommy Faulkner died , you know passed away . I didn't even know it until it was all over . Don't even know what he died from . Heidi told me . Oh , you don't know Heidi , my fist and third wife . She and Tommy were good friends . Last I heard about you , you were moving to North Carolina , your home by birth . But your home was always with us  here on the Southside of Birmingham . Sigh !
I hoped you made a big splash back home when you arrived . Such a polar extreme . I kept your poems for years until Heidi threw out my box of poetry ,with yours included .
Also Steven Sedbury's . You remember him ? Last I heard about you , you had a brain tumor and you passed away . Now I stand alone with my ghosts and I have no address to send my posts .
      Love Thomas
Graff1980 Feb 2015
Broken box
Society’s cold shoulder
Children grow older
People get colder
Humans become more animalistic
Incarcerated *******
Humans don’t deserve this
Barbarity

Our city
Needs clarity
Eyes upwards in isolation
Nocturnal
Echo location
With no manifestation of god
But the sun feels so good

Freedom forgotten
Lost to new conditioning
A tumor that gains a stronger claim
To an inmate’s brain

We are not improving our world
We are just pharmacist repositioning
The world’s pain
anonymous Feb 2016
Health anxiety.

You google one thing and it says another.

You have a headache and it says its cancer.

Countless trips to your family doctor.

The test was negative, you will recover.

Everything is fine but you’re feeling awkward.

Maybe everything IS fine, perhaps you’re like an actor.

Acting out the symptoms you should get an oscar.

Sue me for feeling like somethings not right, get me a lawyer.

To everyone around me, i’m like a destroyer.

I need to rebuild my life from being an over reactor.

Theres a fine line between normal worry and anxiety.

Theres a fine line between being labelled from society.

Theres a fine line between being sick and being healthy.

But even those who are wealthy are not protected from being unhealthy.

And thats where this fear has developed.

Knowing the highest of classes still are not protected.

CEO’s can get cancer.

The president can get Alzheimer's.

Investors can get tumors.

Is it really so peculiar that I fear that this will occur.

Occur in me? Effect my family? Increase mortality?

Maybe i’m not a clinical case of a hypochondriac, but I feel that sometimes I can be.

Maybe i’m not a maniac, but I know I over worry.

These thoughts don’t keep me up at night, but when I’m sick I always think...

What if its this, what if its that, what if this thing can **** me.

But I guess thats just normal anxiety.

Evolutionary instinct.

Our human kind won’t go extinct.

I don’t need to talk this out with a shrink.

So this cold is lasting more than a few days, maybe i’ll just go to a doctor.

Stop fearing that this is the end, see someone and you’ll feel better.

You can get sick from being stressed, or even change from weather.

Its not strange if you catch a cold, no need to worry it won’t last forever.

When you feel like the doctor is wrong, please try to remember.

A runny nose isn’t cancer, forgetting to check the mail isn't alzheimers, and a headache isn’t a tumor.

Those are all just internet rumours.

Google isn’t your doctor.

Worrying isn’t hypochondria, no need to add that to your self diagnoses list.

While disease is a real thing, worrying is the real *****.
it is always nights like this, where everything is so quiet you can hear beneath the absolute threshold, when i begin to wonder if i am going mad. technically, if one were truly losing their mind, they wouldn’t take much notice to the clarification that their reality is nothing but intricate lies spun by their brain.

pushing onwards within the dark, i can feel it. a whisper of a dance in memory slices gracefully across my cheek. the hungry caress of a lost lover. it is a random number between three and four, counting the days of sleepless solitude; as my lover is playing tricks on me.

it is just before dawn. the house breathes and groans like a wretched soul trapped in a bottomless pit long before midnight. in the gray morning light, delicate wrists stained with ink serve as maps through a desolate labyrinth. “lasciate ogni speranza, voi ch’entrate.”

from the corner of my eye i see shadows of uncharted men that feed upon the protective covering, encasing us; separating our world from theirs. the barrier is a shield at best, yet doorway at worst.

try to detach your eyes from their persistent, wandering gaze; and you might just catch a glimpse of a shadow gliding out of sight.

don’t second guess yourself sweetheart, you know exactly what you saw.

shadowy figures slightly out of reach, but still quite visible – gliding silently amidst, whispering quietly to those surrounding. looking directly at the figures, a gauzy lace veil delicately masks and covers each shadow.

unseen claws shred the thin barrier before it is tattered and torn. one by one, little by little, each figure sharpens into perfect visual acuity, wholly in sigh(t). as you slowly inch back, eyes unblinking with disbelief, their voices are no longer whispers.

the gaping pits of opened mouths drown you in hollow prattles, screeching rasps; the cruel high pitched icy sneers of laughter.

petrified with terror and shock at the shadow’s newfound ability to speak, you acutely notice that the house is creaking and wheezing. you can hear footsteps on the opposite side of the house, and with your eyes averted, they are gone.

with this, you must take into consideration that i have spent far too long with eyes wide shut, drowning in utter fear fueled by morbid curiosity for this world: things seen and heard. each is a cancerous tumor mutilating my mind beyond repair.

to me, the shadow figures’ tattered veil appears to be a doorway, a portal to another universe. this sheer possibility spawns the magnitude of infinite and parallel universes.
much like the shifting hallways concealed in an e(in)ternal labyrinth.

amidst this never ending maze, man is forced to wander blindly from birth to death; where he then circles back around to his exact place of previous conception, only to be born anew. condemned to blindly roam and repeat his unbroken cycle for all eternity.

in this labyrinth we are all gods, we are all monsters. each creation story is universal, yet individual to each new life.

the sinner and the saint are both born into divinity.
November 26th, 2010.

on the fringes of desolation and delusion.

this is myself at my most naked. my most vulnerable. this is the raw, berating honesty.

I remember this event in its entirety.
this was the peak of my downfall, the ****** of my psychosis.

this piece was scribbled frantically during the fact, in a tiny red journal, as I watched this abhorrent atrocity unfold in the darkness that surrounded me.

this is not fiction. yet I cannot tell you with utmost certainty that this wasn't real.
Ann Beaver Jan 2013
She met him in high school
there was a motorcycle
her pink shirt
Thirty
some-odd years
He has a divorce and a half
She has a tumor and a laugh
indicative of decline.
Three kids on the line
What's the price of a tickle to his parts?
Five hearts.
Jor For Aug 2016
Trying to forget how you gored me of my puffed up independence
How you slowly bled from my throat selfishness
How you dissected my lust like a tumor
How you flayed away my apathy
I'm trying

For your sake
Arry Oct 2018
You heard about that girl who's dating four guys right now,
Instead of being mature and wise, your reaction was a big wow!
You heard about that lunatic kid who lives on the streets,
But you never noticed his demeanor and the way how he greets.
You heard about that skinny man who comes back late at night,
Did you know that the work load has been killing his appetite.
You heard about someone called God, whom you have never met,
Yet he's the one who gets the credit for everything you get.
You hear about a lot of crap which you always tend to believe,
And lose the most valuable fellows who can never be retrieved.
These fatal cells of lies...start developing like a tumor,
You hear a lot of it everyday and commonly call it RUMOUR!
Orange Zest Nov 2011
i'll write you a poem  ,not because i want the poem
but because i want the poem removed
like cancer ,like a tumor
                     it consumes me ,slowly

i draw in ink through my eyes ink  through my eyes.
desperation   thick in my veins
    'get it out'    it consumes me;
there is a poem inside me;
               ,i need it out
it is as
  a desease;it affects
  ;every aspect of my mind
it will not sleep
it does not sleep when i sleep
it consumes me it whispers it screams;
         'let me out'
and i pull the ink
                            through my eyes
put the pen to my page,
tear 'poetry' out from my mind
and lay it down in all honesty
to die

thrown to the relentless;
truth, and the critics
          the poem will die
          no deeper meaning
the addiction returns;
there is a poem inside me;

i need it out,
it consumes me.
Life's a Beach Nov 2014
Just like I can be ***** if you want me too
Rip my clothes off
Who the ****'d stop you?

Was I asking?
Was I begging?
Did my knees look
so beguiling?

Did I want you? Want your slime to
drip down my legs like
sweaty dew.
Your panting breath left to stick
to me like glue.

But **** me, I'm a feminist "*****"
**** me, I'm the ugliest "bore"
**** me, and my empty sense of humour
**** me, I'm society's 'tumor'.

Because I'm stupid when I write.
I'm nonsensical when I fight against
illiterate vowels. Stop struggling they
yell as I bite into their arm give them hell

Sound the alarm
I've found Society's cyst.

Apparently the enemy does not exist
Pessimistic, narcissistic, neurotic and
paranoid *****

she's probably a ****** witch

I can be all those things if I have to.
I can be all those things if I want to.
The point is that I have a choice

I would tear a **** off with my teeth
before I give up my right to a
voice

Don't generalise me.


I was meaning to have a looking back poem as my 200th but I guess it'll have to wait a bit :P Got angry at the world.
robin Nov 2014
and now i dont even ******* know how to care for myself because i was never told this could happen to me,
i wasnt supposed to get sick. i wasnt supposed to get sick.
all my clipped nails, my chipped teeth piling up like letters at an empty house,
spilling from the mailbox, a papercut waterfall.
the car sputters & stops. the pen scratches without ink and i try to read what a different version of me wrote,
what a younger self thought was poetry.
my mouth is empty but my pockets are full -
pepper spray/my tía's ring/a lighter i never use.
a lighter kept for strangers, for burning dry leaves, old letters,
my own tongue because blisters make it feel fuller, less hollow.
skinny lips, strong teeth, black tongue sharp and sleeping.
never had a cavity.never broke a bone.bandaging my feet before the blisters form, what do i do now?
you took my hand.
you took my hand.
you took my ******* hands. in a california summer,
dry golden grass like a wildfire dare, you said please don't leave me,
it's drought season and i'm choking on my spit,
you're taking all the rings off my fingers. you're swallowing my tía's ring.
does it taste like her cigarettes?does it taste like my sweat?
ive been thinking about you, you've been on my mind:
how do you burn a sunken bridge?
its broken but the the pieces lie heavy below the water,
twisting the current.
how do you open a letter five years unread?
avoided/ignored/forgotten as it slides onto the floor.i'm so afraid that ill never respond,
lay here till i petrify, a living thing turned stone.macerated in my own ******* self-pity,
dripping blame from gaping pores. you did this to me, you broke me,
you poured lead in my ears you left me deaf and afraid,
i just want to feel absolved,
it's not my fault im sick. its not my fault i cant fix myself, its not my fault i dont try -
to try and fail is worse than to surrender before it starts.
excise the shame, cauterize the wound.call it a battle scar,
a mark of bravery and survival,
not a coward's brand, not the mark of cain.
killed your brother. slaughtered your counterpart, your mirror image,
an alternate you where you made different choices,
the ones that made you a good person and not a tumor,
bloated scourge in what could have been a healthy life.
empty fortress decayed behind the walls, i didnt build these to keep you out, i swear,
i just wanted to flesh myself out.
boundaries building up an empty breath,
making me appear more than i am, feel greater than i could ever be, but when you get inside there's nothing.
that's not my fault.thats not my fault. some people are born forests,
vast expanse of redwoods, moss softening the air;
some people are born exhales.
breathed out and dissipated.  
less than a lack.taking nothing; making only a still room,
stuffy air encased like innards; its funny how just a sigh can make me feel like im faking it
even though im the only one there,
even though i can still feel the ache in my skull,
eyelashes stuck to the palms of my hands.how does it feel not doubting life?
how does it feel to know in five seconds, air will swell your chest again?im on unsure footing,
a crumbling ***** (i know its just me.i know im being paranoid,
chill out you said i held my breath while you climbed dont fall dont fall oh god)
when did this happen?who poured fear into me like
swampwater in a wineskin,
never feared falling when i was young.
i just want to not hate myself but i guess thats a pipe dream,
******* stupid, ******* useless ******* incorporeal ******* fake laugh when theres no one to hear,
fighting spiders for the right to sleep. (do your friends know youre a liar?
******* traitor, dropping love from burning hands: your silver tongue is tarnished,
youve been vomiting again,
stomach acid eating your throat from within. can you stop?)
i just want to stop.
theres a ******* burning sun in my chest and god i know i should feel lucky but i dont wanna ******* live i just want to SURVIVE,
what ******* good is living if i just burn myself out by the time i reach 25?
im scared to die but im ******* killing myself and i cant ******* stop,
i just want to sleep but theres still a bite mark on  my wrist from my own ******* teeth there are so many people i feel sick,
they talk so loud,
i feel like i could ******* disintegrate
******* degrade into dust please i just want to leave but i dont want to be alone, let me stay dont let me burst,
i want to be so skinny my bones bruise my skin,
i want to be so strong i could ******* rip myself apart, dont lie to me.
dont love me just sit next to me touch me tell me im alive.
im alive, right?im real im here im not a dusty phantom,
gasping ghost ripping oxygen into incorporeal lungs,
god i want to SCREAM just so i know im not ******* DEAD past the skin is there any sensation past the surface
i want to wear my ******* throat raw tear my muscles to shreds to know i can feel something that isnt shallow surface nerves, PLEASE!GOD!
make my lungs burn make my bones crack i want to feel something that i know is REAL prove im real prove im not an empty shell please im still alive but bites dont go past the skin,
i want to see my ******* heart pulse like the realest part of me,
proof i need proof i want faith i want to believe in unproven things, how can i ******* believe im real?
im ******* faking it just like everything else,
bluff till its true but i never ******* learned how to be TRUE I NEVER LEARNED TO LIVE PAST THE SKIN and if you peel it back all you'll ******* find is
rot,
gangrene, necrotic flesh and electric fear, dont ******* touch me i feel like i could ******* explode,
i feel crushed compressed into a space too small for my body and itll crack any second.
please ******* punch me in the gut. please ******* crack me open i dont ******* trust myself to keep my heart beating,
please rip it out im ******* faking it!!
faking laughs for an empty space faking fear for phantom spiders and thoughts of death, im ******* faking it but how do i ******* STOP
I DONT WANNA LIVE LIKE THIS BUT IM SCARED TO ******* DIE
Tania Crocker Jan 2016
Doctors.


What are doctors? Doctors are people who make the most important decision of their lives to truly choose to dedicate themselves to the care of others. A humble and honest creature that knows in this world full of love it is up to them to recognize that love.  Doctors are not Gods nor healers. They are care givers willing to spare an unbearable amount of time to help solve ones heath problems by finding solutions that will truly be able to help a person in need. However, to finding solution, to finding cures and bearing the pain that they see in every patient that they meet, they find a remarkable vast amount of joy. So what make them choose to become caregivers??
It's simply because they know that their job brings sheer of benefit and transformation to genuinely shaping their own life as they find the true meaning of life when they help others get better from a deadly disease or from a fractured bone to removing a malignant tumor from a brain. That is why they do this. They do this because they want not to be acknowledge when finding a cure but, they understand that, giving makes them feel like they're living and that every human's life is worth the same and worth saving.
I write this for those
Who are complicated like me
Too busy to find a relationship
But not busy enough to be

Lonely as ****,
And when I say that to some,
They are puzzled and befuddled
A single parent raising his son?

How can you be lonely?
That's when I feel the guilt,
Like I'm ungrateful, cuz it's painful
Explaining a brain full of silk

Emotions, that aren't fulfilled
By a child who's a dependent
I can't express the stress on my chest
And secretly lie like a defendant

And whisper everything will work out
When I'm not even sure it will
And it's emasculating to mask the failing
Without someone to distill

Like I do my son, and fill
My head with optimism
That I reciprocate and return, concerned
When they feel like earths a prison

And I'm not asking, ans this isn't
For the pity I despise when given
I just miss, the bliss of a hug and kiss
To remind me I'm still livin

And yes my son gives me this in
The daily grind, but my mind
When I get a minute that's mine
Always wander to nostalgic times

When I didn't question if I'm
In the place that fate with signs
Led me to. Or like many do
Am I lost where you can't find

A lost in found, lost in frowns
Can't find what I lost, no solid ground
Where you say fake smiles are around
And hate it. Only to realize that now

You do the same, another clown
Who seems anything but profound
I use to be royalty. Had loyalty,
but somewhere it all crashed down

So in my Burger King crown
And my throne, built with a stapler
Made of cardboard, matching my scepter Made of
that hallow cardboard tube you get from wrapping paper

You wrap Xmas gifts with,,
and if you Wonder what the paper was used for
It was used by the me in my past, high off his ***.
Who wrapped up my future

And inside was a dead end job,
Sobriety, and some ****
So when life ***** me, I can be lucky
And slap it on my rusty, ... Well you....

Get the picture. And if it sounds familiar
Or not. But still feel a spot
Inside that you tried filling with ***
An unfillable void, u avoid, but can't stop

Feeling it, when you stop. And got
A moment to yourself
I hope this consolation, for the constellations,
not aligning, is a help

Cause I write this, to get it out,
But I post it publicly, for those at home
Who feel the emptiness. When the phone isn't ringing ....
Your not alone

In being alone, which sounds
Like another of life's contradiction
But contradiction is a literary term,
Almost as if to give u a vision

Of poeticness. Where mine is given,
But the give of irony can be fun
Leaving only humor, left for the tumor
That teaches us, that when the sun

Is out. Not not to take it for granted
So I circle back to my son
And I'm sure, that if still unsecure or
Unsure, whenever this poem Is done

Maybe it's time to train your brain,
To regain a perception, that we
Inadvertently trained it to ignore, in horror
Witnessing what wasn't meant to be

And find solace in all or it ...
I know, I sound like a clicheè
Like a cheesy, hallmark card,
that makes you wish, the author had aids

Ok.. Not aids ... But ******, or something
Now I sound like a *****,
But sometimes I see public display of affection
from couples, and I think

You ******* PPL MAKE ME SICK
HES PROBABLY FUVKING UR SISTER
AND WHEN YOUR AT WORK SHES PROBABLY ....
Wait... I can't be bitter

And you shouldn't be either ..
I know it's easier that it sounds
When robin Williams committed suicide
I swear i couldn't help drown

In thoughts. Of how, somebody, so famed  And Loved,
would want to die
which means there's no chance for me..
But logically, it proves that inside

We all have that void. Annoyed,
Wanting it to just fuvk off
But the hard part in life is concentrating on.
What we have. And not, .... the have nots

And remember what you forgot..,
The annoying, overbearing, ones who
Actually do care, about you, are priceless
And trust me, if you have one too,

A mother. Who tries to smother,
so u run For cover and don't visit
Are the ones you give away, on the days
You rather be Alone to pivot

In worthless worries, only to revisit
The same pain, u feed as you fear it
And as I write this I'm rolling my ****** Eyes too,
cuz nobody wants to hear it

But the truth is *****, just like ur mom
But in end it's the only honesty
Left in a life full of broken dreams and fake smiles
toco-sign the promising

Promises no one kept,
when they said "I love you" or I'll never leave
So I'll try to take my own cheesy advice 
 Left in this poem if u do the same for me

So I gift this to you. And my future self
As well, and I can only hope he
Takes the message inside and abide, or try ...
And Remember,lastly, when coping

That just because your lonely,
It doesn't mean your alone ...
Just because your lonely doesn't mean your alone ...
For u.. I wrote this poem ...
David Nelson Oct 2013
Itch in my Brain

There's an itch in my brain, and I just can't scratch it
it's been there now, for almost 14 days
went to see my doctor, he said, just can't explain it
I have looked at it now in over 50 different ways

Do you think it's a tumor, could it be it's a growth
I need to get some rest now, I'm feelin like a putz
no he said, you can eliminate them both
I'm more concerned about the swelling in you nuts

he stared at my crotch, and kind of shook his head
said it looks pretty bad, you might need a transfusion
I grabbed him by the collar, “it's my brain” I said
this whole crotch thing, leaves me in confusion

Well let me take another look, just 1 more time
I must have missed something, though I don't know why
what's that sound I hear, it sounds like a chime
no by jove, I think I've found a fly

there's a fly in my head, is that what's wrong
can you get it out, do I need an operation  
sounds like the lyrics to a Todd Rundgren song
you need to call someone else, I'm going on vacation  

So that's the way it is, that's the way it's going
there's a song in my brain, and my girl has left me cold
so that's the real itch, is my broken heart showing
guess I'm not crazy, just tired and old

Gomer LePoet...
The mental heart as well as the physical one is not all that well.
Dr Sam Burton Oct 2014
What a shame
When someone loses fame
For doing nothing
Because of a shortcoming

For days, he was liked
Taken care of and prized
But once he had to be away
Got forgotten and castaway

He was called a liar
To be put on fire
He was blamed
Accused and defamed

For, frankly speaking, no reason
Yet he was charged with treason
Days ago was a family member
Now he's put at stake of timber

Indeed, very odd is man
When he is subject to ban
When jealousy driven
And heart-striken

Lucky is a freeman
Who refuses to live in a can
Lucky is the man
Who is not fried on a pan.

Sam Burton(C)







Today is Friday, Oct. 11, the 284 day of 2014 with 81 to follow.

The moon is waning. Morning stars are Jupiter and Venus. Evening stars are Mars, Mercury, Neptune, Uranus and Saturn.
In 1845, the U.S. Naval Academy was formally opened at Fort Severn, Annapolis, Md., with 50 midshipmen in the first class.

In 1886, Griswold Lorillard of Tuxedo Park, N.Y., fashioned the first tuxedo for men.

A thought for the day:

We all should rise above the clouds of ignorance, narrowness and selfishness. -- Booker T. Washington


Quotes for the day:

A good traveller is one who does not know where he is going to, and a perfect traveller does not know where he came from.

------------------------

All women's dresses are merely variations on the eternal struggle between admitted desire to dress and the unadmitted desire to undress.

Lin Yutang

"What seems to us as bitter trials are often blessings in disguise."

Oscar Wilde

"It takes but one positive thought when given a chance to survive and thrive to overpower an entire army of negative thoughts."

Robert H. Schuller

My boyfriend and I broke up. He wanted to get married and I didn't want him to.

Rita Rudner

It is only by following your deepest instinct that you can lead a rich life, and if you let your fear of consequence prevent you from following your deepest instinct, then your life will be safe, expedient and thin.

Katharine Butler Hathaway


TIVIA


What made Lucky Lindy so special?

Charles Lindbergh was not the first man to fly the Atlantic. He was the sixty-seventh. The first sixty-six made the crossing in dirigibles and twin-engine mail planes. Lindbergh was the first to make the dangerous flight alone.

Can your brain hurt?

Only figuratively -- Pain from any injury or illness is always registered by the brain. Yet, curiously, the brain tissue itself is immune to pain; it contains none of the specialized receptor cells that sense pain in other parts of the body. The pain associated with brain tumors does not arise from brain cells but from the pressure created by a growing tumor or tissues outside the brain.


Where can you see a lot of magnets?

More than 7,000 magnets are on display at the Guinness World of Records Museum and Gift Shop, located on the Las Vegas Strip. The exhibit is a portion of the more than 26,000-magnet collection of Louise J. Greenfarb, dubbed "The Magnet Lady," whose accumulation was designated by the Guinness Book of World Records as the world's "Largest Refrigerator Magnet" collection.



Poetry

Evening Star

Edgar Allan Poe

'Twas noontide of summer,
And mid-time of night;
And stars, in their orbits,
Shone pale, thro' the light
Of the brighter, cold moon,
'Mid planets her slaves,
Herself in the Heavens,
Her beam on the waves.
I gazed awhile
On her cold smile;
Too cold- too cold for me-
There pass'd, as a shroud,
A fleecy cloud,
And I turned away to thee,
Proud Evening Star,
In thy glory afar,
And dearer thy beam shall be;
For joy to my heart
Is the proud part
Thou bearest in Heaven at night,
And more I admire
Thy distant fire,
Than that colder, lowly light.


Vocabulary

Strudel

noun

: a pastry made from a thin sheet of dough rolled up with filling and baked

Example:

Strudels are usually made with high-gluten flour to increase the malleability of the dough.

"The Supremes belted out a song on the radio, their voices as smooth and flawless as the ribbon of cream Kirsten poured from the pitcher onto her father's strudel, and the whole house smelled cheerfully of pork and spiced apples, laced with a note of butter. — From Rebecca Coleman’s 2011 novel The Kingdom of Childhood



Health and Beauty Tip

Mineral Water for greasy hair

If you have oily hair, use a shampoo that contains zinc. It's okay to condition if you feel you need it -- just don't use it on your roots and scalp.


JOKES

Funny News

From the Churchdown Parish Magazine:
"Would the Congregation please note that the bowl at the back of the Church, labelled 'For The Sick,' is for monetary donations only."

-o-

From The Guardian concerning a sign seen in a Police canteen in Christchurch, New Zealand:
'Will the person who took a slice of cake from the Commissioner's Office return it immediately. It is needed as evidence in a poisoning case."

-o-

From The Times:

A young girl, who was blown out to sea on a set of inflatable teeth, was rescued by a man on an inflatable lobster. A coast-guard spokesman commented: 'This sort of thing is all too common these days.'

-o-

From The Gloucester Citizen:

A *** line caller complained to Trading Standards. After dialling an 0891 number from an advertisement entitled 'Hear Me Moan' the caller was played a tape of a woman nagging her husband for failing to do jobs around the house! . Consumer Watchdogs in Dorset refused to look into the complaint, saying, 'He got what he deserved.'

-o-

From The Barnsley Chronicle:

Police arrived quickly, to find Mr Melchett hanging by his fingertips from the back wall. He had run out of the house when the owner, Paul Finch, returned home unexpectedly, and, spotting an intruder in the garden, had visiting Mrs Finch and, hearing the front door open, had climbed out of the rear window. But the back wall was 8 feet high and Mr Melchett had been unable to get his leg over.

-o-

From The Scottish Big Issue:

In Sydney, 120 men named Henry attacked each other during a 'My Name is Henry' convention. Henry ****** of Canberra accused Henry Pap of Sydney of not being a Henry at all, but in fact an Angus. 'It was a lie', explained Mr Pap, 'I'm a Henry and always will be,' whereupon Henry Pap attacked Henry ******, whilst two other Henrys - Jones and Dyer - attempted ! to pull them apart. Several more Henrys - Smith, Calderwood an! d Andrew s - became involved and soon the entire convention descended into a giant fist fight. The brawl was eventually broken up by riot police, led by a man named Shane.

-o-

From The Daily Telegraph:

In a piece headed "Brussels Pays 200,000 Pounds to Save Prostitutes": "[T]he money will not be going directly into the prostitutes' pocket, but will be used to encourage them to lead a better life. We will be training them for new positions in hotels."

-o-

From The Derby Abbey Community News:

We apologise for the error in the last edition, in which we stated that 'Mr Fred Nicolme is a defective in the police force.' This was a typographical error. We meant of course that Mr Nicolme is a detective in the police farce.

-o-
From The Guardian:

After being charged 20 pounds for a 10 pounds overdraft, 30 year old Michael Howard of Leeds changed his name by deed poll to 'Yorkshire Bank Plc are Fascist! *s.' The Bank has now asked him to close his account, and Mr *s has asked them to repay the 69p balance by cheque, made out in his new name.

-o-

From The Manchester Evening News:

Police called to arrest a naked man on the platform at Piccadilly Station released their suspect after he produced a valid rail ticket.

-o-

An Austrian circus dwarf died recently when he bounced sideways from a trampoline and was swallowed by a hippopotamus. Seven thousand people watched as little Franz Dasch popped into the mouth of Hilda the Hippo and the animal's gag reflex forced it to swallow. The crowd applauded wildly before other circus people realized what had happened.

-o-

An elderly woman at a unit for sufferers of senile dementia passed round a box of mothballs thinking that they were mints. Eleven people were taken to hospital for treatment.

Confessional Etiquette


The new priest is nervous about hearing confessions, so he asks an older priest to sit in on his sessions. The new priest hears a couple confessions, then the old priest asks him to step out of the confessional for a few suggestions.
The old priest says, "Cross your arms over your chest and rub your chin with one hand."

The new priest tries this. The old priest suggests, "Try saying things like, 'I see,' 'yes,' 'go on,' 'I understand,' and 'how did you feel about that?'"

The new priest says those things, trying them out. The old priest says, "Now, don't you think that's a little better than saying, 'Whoa... What happened next?'"

So Funny

A guy purchased Willie Nelson's hair for $37,000. ***** removed his braids and the guy bought them for $37,000. This is the kind of decision you make after spending the day on Willie's tour bus.

David Litterman

Did you hear what happened to Willie Nelson's hair? They sold it. There was an auction this week and a pair of Willie Nelson's braids sold for $37,000. It's a good deal because each braid has a street value of $80,000.

Jimmy Kimmel

Quick Blonde Jokes

Q: Why did the blonde keep putting quarters in the soda vending machine?

A: Because she thought she was winning.

Q: Why did the blonde take 16 friends to the movies?

A: Under 17 not admitted!

Q: Why did the blonde bake a chicken for 3 and a half days?

A: It said cook it for half an hour per pound, and she weighed 125.


Have a very nice Saturday!
Àŧùl Mar 2015
Why does it happen to me?
Did the accident also give me a brain tumor?
The most common symptoms of brain tumors include headaches; numbness or tingling in the arms or legs; seizures, memory problems; mood and personality changes; balance and walking problems; nausea and vomiting; changes in speech, vision, or hearing.
I have all except seizures and nausea & vomiting.
I am already on Sodium Valproate and Valproic Acid controlled release tablets which are given to brain tumour patients as well.
My psychiatrist was so scared while asking my dad the last time we went for checkup, "Did he have seizures or vomiting?"

But I am not scared, I know that stuff can only get better for me. I have had enough of misfortune.
Just felt that I needed to share my thoughts.

— The End —