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 Mar 2015
Mohammad Skati
It's impossible and                                                                                                    I emphasize on the impossibility of                                                                        Conquering good thoughts anytime                                                                      Simply because they carry inside them                                                                  True love that we sometimes lack ...                                                                      Those thoughts that are not easy to conquer ,then                                                They will remain endlessly with their permanent light                                       That guides us into the straight path ...                                                                  No one has the ability to abolish good thoughts                                                   That hug us and they even embrace us endlessly ...
 Mar 2015
AP
crashing waves comfort cold feet embedded in sand
adjacent to the lake-house and beneath the weeping willow
the tide falls along with the sun and a silence is brewed
until twisting vines of old christmas lights are sparked on the gazebo
a rush of noise and voices begins to fill the void that the night provides
whispers of love circulate among singing crickets and dancing frogs
eyes grow wide with the promise of an endless adventure once his hand is taken
and quiet footsteps become running stomps of laughter and joy into unknown lands
the two disappear from sight and agree not to look back
I know today is the first day of Spring, but I'm hopeful Summer will arrive fast as this reminds me of a childhood summer...
 Mar 2015
Amanda
And so, they ran as far as 7 year old muscles would let.

Cutting across the softened hues of green and pinks on the end of a day.

Where skinned knees were kissed with the warm promise that the smarting pain would be gone.

Pinkys said shy hellos under bed-sheet tents,
their hair haloed by the sunshine
Eyes brighter, and cheeks crimson and freckled,

all ready to take on the
great big world.
I realised, love comes in different forms, through different mediums, through people, time, I could go on, really.
Night night!
xo
 Mar 2015
Mohammad Skati
من حب كل الناس                                                                                                              بس في ما منعرف شو بدون !                                                                                               نحنا ما بيهمنا فلان او علان                                                                                                 شو بيحب او ما بيحب !                                                                                                       نحنا بيهمنا اللي بيحبونا                                                                                                       و من حبون ...                                                                                                                 ييلي منا تعوا لعنا ...                                                                                                         ايوا تعوا لعنا ...                                                                                                               ********************­******هذه القصيدة بالعامية **                                                                                           _____________________
 Mar 2015
martin
Grandma, Lucy gave birth she informed us,
and wants us all to see.

Lucy gave birth to a tortoise,
and it ran away to sea?

No Grandma, Lucy gave birth to an infant,
and she wants us all to see.

Lucy gave birth to an elephant,
today at half past three?
How did she do that?

No Grandma, Lucy has had a little one,
she's ecstatic and wants us to see.

Lucy, plastic surgery?
I'm not surprised if she gave birth to an elephant.
Shall we visit her?

Yes Grandma, what a good idea.
Shall we find your hearing aid?

What do you want a ***** for dear?
 Mar 2015
martin
Clever Trevor likes to surprise
When he was born he shouted Hi!
I'm Trevor, glad to be aboard
And look, I'm wearing a mortar board!

They gave him a part in the Christmas play
As baby Jesus the divine
He took to it like a duck to water
Which of course he turned to wine

Mum took him to the beach to play
Let's be normal just for a day
He dug a hole in the sand
Drained the sea away

He likes to throw stones,
Never missing a target
He aimed for the moon one fateful night
Knocked it out of orbit

A keyboard wizard,
If he got a bit bored
He could start a third world war

So come on Trevor, please do something good
Help us out here, I wish you would
 Mar 2015
A K Krueger
Upon walking slowly from my despair,
I saw a turn’ed leaf.
Amongst the others, dark and rounded,
This one sat soundly,
Inverted,
Displaying bones and veins
For all to see.
Vulnerability is not the culprit
it’s been made out to be,
For the leaves seemed natural;
In chorus, their colored-symphony.
Were they all upright,
Green and bright in shining glory,
One might think it a picture
From a children’s story.
I sigh,
Gazing to the sky as I walk,
Farther, and farther away,
To felids unknown, but surely shown,
To my heart, I say,
“Let thyself be turned.”
 Mar 2015
Richard Riddle
I was visiting my older brother and sister-in-law, when he emerged from a storage room with a box filled with family"artifacts", photos, etc. In that box was a 78rpm record, created in 1947. I was not quite six years old. This caused the eruption of a memory long lost, for it was recorded by my kindergarten teacher; my recitation of a poem titled, "My Sore Thumb", written by Burges Johnson. It appeared in a 1921 publication of a book, "Youngsters:" Collected Poems of Childhood", published by E.P. Dutton Publishing Co., which is now part of the Penguin Group. I only had to memorize the first stanza.
ENJOY!

"My Sore Thumb"

I jabbed a jack-knife in my thumb—
Th' blood just spurted when it come!
The cook got faint, an' nurse she yelled
An' showed me how it should be held,
An' Gran'ma went to get a rag,
An' couldn't find one in th' bag;
An' all the rest was just struck dumb
To see my thumb!

Since I went an' jabbed my thumb
I go around a-lookin' glum,
And Aunt, she pats me on the head
An' gives me extra ginger-bread;
But brother's mad, an' says he'll go
An' take an' axe, an' chop his toe:
An' then he guesses I'll keep mum
About my thumb!

At school they as't to see my thumb,
But I just showed it to my chum,
An' any else that wants to see
Must divvy up their cake with me!
It's gettin' well so fast, I think
I'll fix it up with crimson ink,
An' that'll keep up int'rest some
In my poor thumb!
Tape recorders, as we know them had not yet been fully developed for retail sale. But, there were disc recorders, 78rpms mostly, which the networks used to record their radio programs for archival purposes.
 Mar 2015
Deon
Ow! i screamed as she pounced on me.
searing through my flesh
her vicious blades tore;
i tried to attack but
she got a better hold of me.
i managed to get her off of me to ask why?
but it was too late i struck her down.

Dead and cold
her lifeless body lay
in a pool of blood;
her blood on mine,
my blood on hers,
blood flowing freely and
blood piling up.
the blood she drew from me
and the blood she was yet to spill.

She had attacked me
but by the time i realized it,
it was too late;
she's gone  and there will be others after her.
i killed her!!!
in self defense i swear
but i just killed a mosquito
and don't know why i should be worried about that
I'll try not to **** the next ones. maybe put a notice that says "gone out come back later"
 Mar 2015
AP
A balloon cast astray by the wavering hand of a child
Who wishes to know the latex orb filled with helium can fly
But in the moment of segregation between the tips of his small fingers and the floating object's delicate string
He discovers regret for the first time in his short life
The feeling that will haunt him far past his young years and into adulthood
Yet, it's only in these latter years of his life
That he'll also discover he is envious of his abilities as a boy
For he could let go then, easier than ever
And today, he is forced to grasp his wife's bony fingers with a wrinkled hand of his own
As today, the only delicate strings in life are the wires and tubes that travel through her
In this moment he realizes he must travel back in time
To relearn how to release his balloon
As he wishes for nothing more than to let her fly in peace
But he doesn't possess the strength to watch her float away
A story of a man from his childhood, then into his late adulthood, as he realize's how children who can let go of balloons possess the most courage. He must let his dying wife pass, but he doesn't possess a child's ability to let go anymore.
 Mar 2015
Francie Lynch
On the Emerald Isle when the brier's green,
Occur strange sights seldom seen.
There's golden rainbows and small clay pipes,
And wee folk dancing every night.

I've heard stories of the leprechaun, but
Before I see 'em they're usually gone.
Yet one green misty night in the brier,
I saw them jigging round the fire.

Sean and I were in green Irish woods,
Gathering shamrocks and just being good.
While searching near a hidden creek,
We heard faint giggles from fifty feet.

Near the giggles grew a small green fire,
Perhaps six inches high - no higher.
We crouched low for a better look,
To our surprise we saw a small green cook.

He wore a tall green hat and pulled-up socks,
And stirred a *** of simmering shamrocks.
Smoke curled from his pipe of clay,
Why, I remember his grin still today.

A band of gold encircled his brim,
My little finger seemed bigger than him.
He had golden buckles and a puggish nose,
Glimmering eyes and curly toes.

Sweet music floated on wings of air,
Fifty-one leprechauns were dancing near.
They passed the poteen with a smack of their lips,
As each in turn took a good Gaelic sip.

Suddenly the gaiety quickly slowed down.
Sure we were that we'd been found.
But they all looked north with reverent faces,
Bowed their heads, stood still in their places.

The banshee's wailing was heard afar,
O'erhead the Death Coach had a full car.
The wee folk respect, it must be said,
Erin's children when they're dead.

Soon flying fast through the green night air,
We spied King Darby hurrying near.
He rode atop his beloved steed,
O'er dales and glens, woods and mead.

His hummingbird lighted on a leaf,
And all the wee folk knelt beneath.
With a golden smile he waved to all,
To officially begin The Leprechaun Ball.

Tiny green fiddlers fiddled their fiddles,
That sounded just like ten thousand giggles.
Dancers danced on mists of green,
Pipers piped, but none were seen.

They danced and ate and passed the ladle,
And kicked up their heels to Irish reels.
We enjoyed the sight late into the night,
But suddenly they gave us a terrible fright.

They saw us cowering behind the trees,
So they cast a spell which made us freeze.
We'd heard what happens to caught spies,
That now are spiders, toads or flies.

Well, old King Darby drew us near,
Sean and I were in a terrible fear.
With a grin and a snap he made us small,
And requested our presence at the Leprechaun Ball.

We reeled and laughed with our new found friends,
'Til the green mist lifted to signal the end.
With a glean in his eye the good King said:
"'Tis sure'n the hour yous be abed."

He waved his shillelagh to return our height,
Wished us well and bade good-night.
And as they rode the winds away
I suddenly remembered it was St. Patrick's Day.

I'm sure the lot of you think me a blarney liar, but that night I assure you
I danced 'round a green fire.
 Mar 2015
Bunny
Be kind to all kinds
Because you will find
By being kind to all kinds
Makes you the best kind of
One of a kind.
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