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 Aug 2015
Vivian
Bonnie squeals as the cart soars past various boxes of cereals and granola bars. She glances at her brother, Clyde, expecting him to share her fright, but is bewildered to see that he is thrashing about in a fit of giggles, enjoying the thrill of the ride. Knuckles white as snow, Bonnie's frail little fingers grasp the side of the red cart with all of their might as her eyes clamp shut. Her heart beats faster than the speed of light, and she questions her motives for agreeing to Clyde's devilish ways.

She reminisces on their earlier arrival at the Local Target. They had come with their mother, planning to do a little grocery shopping and then be on their way. Of course, Clyde had schemed up a way to stray from his mother's side unnoticed. Bonnie still can't fathom how he managed to drag her down with him.

Cautiously, wind whipping through her hair, Bonnie peaks one eye open and instantly regrets it. She let's out an ear - piercing howl as the cart thrusts into a mountain of PopTart boxes large enough to be deemed the Empire State Building's father. She crawls out of the heap only to be met by an eruption of heartfelt laughter spewing from her brother's mocking lips. "You should have seen your face!" Clyde teases as Bonnie sends daggers through his skull.

The two troublemakers step out of the cart and attempt to retrace the way back to their mother. Devastated, they come to the conclusion that the aisles now resemble a maze. As they confidently take on this new challenge and make their way through the unknown, their spirits quickly take a downward spiral upon realizing that they have ended up back where they began. Tired and desperately longing to go home, the two siblings reach a clearing past the aisles and are overjoyed to spy their mother waiting patiently in line at a register with a new cart in hand.

Bonnie and Clyde casually lazy on over to their mother's side and make light conversation as if they had never left.
Disclaimer: I kind of wrote a short story, but oh well. Here's another piece from high school, freshman year.
 Aug 2015
John Stevens
Oct 13

A new chapter began in the Life of Tony Boy in October. His Daddy got out of prison after spending over three and a half years away. Tony was 2 months old when it all began. We kept a picture of his Daddy in the living room and talked to Tony when he ask about the picture. His Daddy and I kept in touch by letter, but that is a different story.
A couple a days after Tony’s Daddy, (TD), arrived back in Twin Falls, we met at the City Park. We were on the Court House side and TD was on the other side. We started walking toward each other and when Tony was about 100 feet away from his Daddy, he started to run. Tony ran and jumped into his arms. I never saw any thing like that before and did not imagine that would be their first meeting. I must admit that there were tears in my eyes. It was as if they had been apart for just a few days.
For the next three hours, the two of them ran, jumped, wrestled around, and just had a lot of fun. It was really great to see them going hand in hand around the park. Me… I sat in my chair and took it easy for a change. If you have read some of the other stuff about Tony you know we spent a lot of time at the park. Several times I heard Tony say, “I love you Daddy.” I found out later that TD got rather misty but he kept it inside. I guess that comes from trying to be tough for the last few years. He did get stabbed 5 times in Boise and was moved to Orofino after that. But that is another story.
It was a little awkward for TD the first few times. How do you handle a rambunctious 4 year old when you haven’t had the experience before? TD was a quick learner. He observed how I handled Tony and used the same methods.

So for a month now we get together several times a week. Sunday we went to lunch at Addison West. Tony was wired and wanted to play. A couple sitting in an adjacent booth apparently observed the goings on and had a bit of fun with Tony when they left. The lady started to leave and turned around and said, “You sure are a cute little boy.” Well I can’t argue with that.
I will add more to this as time goes by. Tony is sitting here wanting to go to the park. Soooo,,, a guess it is time to GO TO THE PARK.

I’m back. Did not make it to the park. Low blood sugar hit and I had to cope with that for a while. We did get to the grocery store later. I was thinking about second chances. In conversation with people over the years I have said, “what is done is done and there is not anything you can do to change it. It is what you do with today and the tomorrows…. that will make a difference.” I wrote a piece called “Jail (Redemption)” about the time TD was in jail. Some young folk I have talked to are rather surprised to find old dudes like me can think this way. It all boils down to this. I am just a beggar trying to show another beggar where to find the Bread of Life. I would be in deep yogurt if it were not for redemption.
 Aug 2015
Vivian
I go to school
I sit in class
I love to write
But I hate math

Behind my desk
I try to add
I draw the shapes
I make the graph

Learn formulas
I get confused
It's much too hard
Too many rules

Daddy can teach
He goes to schools
He shows them math
He knows the rules

I leave the bus
Dad gets the door
"How was your day?"
"I learned some more!"

Dad says, "Good Job,"
And turns to leave
I yell out, "Wait!
Can you help me?"

Dad hesitates
He sits me down
I bring out math
He starts to frown

"How is this hard?
Here's what you do!"
I smile as he
Explains the rules.

"I get it now!
Let's do this one!"
"I have to go
But you have fun."

My daddy leaves
I wear his frown
I try the math
It's harder now

"Daddy come back!"
I start to yelp
"I'm sure at school
That they can help."

I go to school
I sit in class
I love to write
But I hate math

Behind my desk
I just can't see
Can Mrs. teach?
She's not Daddy

I raise my hand
I wait a while
"Can you help me?"
Mrs. just smiles

"It's not all wrong.
Here's what you did.
Let's try it slow
And get it fixed."

That's not so hard
That's kind of cool
I laugh as she
Explains the rules

"Mrs. please stay
For just one more."
"I'm glad to help!
It's not a chore."

Before class ends
We take a test
I'm scared but I
Wish for the best

I turn it in
I start to leave
"I'm proud of you!"
Mrs. tells me

I check my grade
Right by the door
An "A" in math?
What in the world?

I leave the bus
Dad gets the door
"How was your day?"
"I learned some more!"

Dad says, "Good Job,"
But doesn't stay
I yell out, "Wait!
I got an A!"

Dad smiles. "In math?
I'm proud of you!
Maybe one day
You'll teach math too!"

I'm really glad
I learned the rules
But math should still
Be banned from schools

Thank you Mrs.
For teaching me
Since my Daddy
Had to go.
 Aug 2015
Poetic T
He was never as good as the other children,
At school they made him think he was to slow
For their games of
Hide
&
Seek
As how hard is it to find a slug when
A slippery, slimy trails left behind him.
He was never that fast always taking
Time to get to those places that
Others would speedily get too.
But what was the fun of missing
Views,
People,
Scenery
Always rushed past, he would take a
Moment to speak to those taking time
Out of a gradual slow day, until someone not
Gazing,
Looking,
Noticing
The slimly little trail, as they disappeared
Down a soggy path, anger turned to laugher
As they had the time of their life.
And on that day a new venture was played
A slowly little fellow,
Would slowly edge his way up the hill.
Once he was there, once he chilled out, they
Slipped,
Slithered,
Skidded,
Down the ***** with glee, a little fellow
He didn't run, jump, skip, only slowly walked,
But no one minded. It wasn't the climb up,
The school walk wasn't as slow anymore,
It was the speed that everyone went the other way down.
 Aug 2015
Nat Lipstadt
~~~

for the anonymous mother whom I value

~~~

Devils ain't so uncommon
we all got one or two,
the unlucky ones,
let them move in

and the line tween and us
and them
damnably blurred past no return

addiction is a cumulative,
sometimes thing

in this usage
sometimes
means merely the occasional
seconds
of remorse self-disgust
tween gut busting need,
incautiously craving constant,
the pleasure of inexcusable overlooking,
permitting yourself
to be the child,
allowing oneself to be
forgetting and forgettable

in this usage
cumulative
means the pleasure of a thousand
pills, drinks, smokes,
so long ago
forgetting and forgettable,
nothing sticks and nothing stays
so that each hit, each drunk
is brand new
and

nothing
accumulates
except just tolerable enough
remorse and intolerable pain
that brings that
devil desire
who always wins the seventh race
riding a horse called
"just this once more"

and you write me:

"I wish I could be the sweet person
I wanted so desperately to be except... I'm not...
sadly, I feel your disappointment :("


Devils ain't so uncommon
we all got one or two,
the unlucky ones,
let them move in

so whom am I to judge,
assuage, forgive and overlook,
and never condemn
cause you do it almost
plenty enough
for yourself and
every addict on this tour bus

so I answer as follows:

*the only words that come to mind -

the children are owed
thinking about you
August 14, 2015
 Aug 2015
Poetic T
The first leaf born from the forests seeding. Birthing
What flourished, grew here today. Each woodland had
A keeper, a life born from seed to the fruit of souls.

Animals nourished this new born, language of each
Taught, spoken winds told her of what happened
Near and far the woodland was a majestic place.

Upon a staff the first leaf flourished free floating
Energies of the forest flowed, emanated from its aura.
The winds spoke and she listened staff  held in hand.

A light birthed from the sky had found ground and
Trees set ablaze in it anger, their cries heard felt, pain
As life was slowly turned to lifeless ash, she cried.

As her staff called upon elements, ground, water, air.
Each apart to platy as the stream did rise upon the
Banks water did touch her feet and the staff came down.

The vines did drop entwined in circular stance and water
Fed and rained out, quenching diluting flames anger.
The pain felt as smouldering now floating ash.

Her hand felt the orchard of blackened bark, some lost.
But in time new life would flourish where it fell, consumed
To ash before. A seed she settled where new birth given form.

She bowed to the forest for it guidance. A droplet feel from
The first leaf, a tear of sorrow for what was lost, nourishing,
Healing those not fallen bark did scar, reminders of before.

She walks among the trees, the winds talk too her, she laughs
Sometimes a joke maybe wind is funny that way, the cycle
Continues she is the guardian of first leaf, and then she walks.
 Aug 2015
Deedre Deaton
Dragon, dragon, darkness still,
What great heroes did you ****?
What fair princesses did you capture?
What villages fell to your fiery rapture?
What kings grew poor to fill your hoard?
What great knights tried to smite you with their sword?

Dragon, dragon, mighty dragon,
When did your interest lie in the passing wagon?
When did the wings cease to beat?
When was sleeping your only feat?
When did the sky stop being your home?
When did your scales become a ****’s comb?

Dragon, dragon, fading dawn,
Where has your magic gone?
Where is the wind of your wings?
Where is your wealth of many kings?
Where is the fire of your breath?
Where is the rumor of your death?

Dragon, dragon, famous lizard,
Who was it that beat the wizard?
Who was it that claimed the gold?
Who was it that’s name was feared where told?
Who was it that killed the knight?
Who was it that that lived to smite?

Dragon, dragon, paper creature,
How did you become scoffed by the teacher?
How did the pen tame the savage?
How did the magnificent become the average?
How did nature become fantastic?
How did you become evil to the ecclesiastic?

Dragon, dragon, mythical beast,
What was it that made you the least?
When did you begin to fade?
Where was your legend made?
Who was it that you fear?
How did you just disappear?
 Aug 2015
AlanK
I’ve never known you without Lulu
She has been a part of you
As much as your humor
Your generosity
Your kindness
Your ability to make things happen.
But you are not less for her loss,
She filled you with joy
She warmed your bed
On those cold and lonely nights.
She loved you when
Nobody else would.
One look at her bright eyes
And your day was brighter.
But you are not less for her loss,
Her spirit will reside
Upon a soft fluffy bed
Somewhere inside you.
She will continue to come
Whenever you call her.
How could she not?
That’s what good dogs do.
She will be there to snuggle
When you need comfort,
And wag her tail
When you need a laugh.
If you listen hard
She is barking now
She wants a walk
Or a treat
Or just some affection.
Good dog.
 Aug 2015
Brother Jimmy
In a hovel
In the middle
Of the dark moor

Lives our favorite
Anti-hero
From our folklore

He is waiting
For electric
Thoughts to surface

If you're wond'ring
Is he wand'ring
Yes, he sure is

But he nightly
Comes to sleep here
In his old shack

Where he'll always
Feel that he can
Find his way back

'Dines on squirrel,
Hand-picked field greens
...and an orange

Never mending
That old roof leak
Or that door hinge...

'Talks of hellfire
And of brimstone
Oh what is it

'Sends a person
To their limits
When they visit?

Maybe it's his
Dissertation
On "what's out there"

Or his casting-
Out the demons
From his armchair

Or perhaps his
Concrete notions
Of what truth is

And his staunch wit
Which at times can
Be just ruthless

Yet he's kind and
Truly loving
When I visit

Kindly, warmly,
Locking my gaze
Oh what is it

Makes a person
Want to stay far
From the bustle

Separating
From the life mass
And the hustle

Singing songs to
Phantom longings
And the west wind

And then only
Posthumously
Will his song end

And it's true that
Dissonant, he
Finds his thoughts are

Bestow blessings
On his blind eyes
And his guitar
 Aug 2015
Poetic T
Testaments wrote in language
Of old
Incantations,
Spells,
Elixirs,
To put hair on your chest,
"But accidents can happen"
Never sniff the jar full of mystery
Or you'll nose about it for weeks,
Platting,
Braiding,
Partings,
Upon it, styles just to hide the sight
Its growing from your nose in fact,
Do you like my
Moustache,
As you
Sneeze,
And then the secrets are out,
Mischief with papers of old  
Noses shouldn't go
"Where noses shouldn't go"
Incantations,
Spells,
Elixirs,  
Are for professionals, not those
"Nosy individuals"
Who should put things
Where they should nose they shouldn't go..
 Aug 2015
Richard Riddle
Wynken, Blynken, and Nod
A Dutch Lullaby.


WYNKEN, Blynken, and Nod one night
Sailed off in a wooden shoe,--
Sailed on a river of crystal light
Into a sea of dew.
"Where are you going, and what do you wish?"
The old moon asked the three.
"We have come to fish for the herring fish
That live in this beautiful sea;
Nets of silver and gold have we!"
       Said Wynken,
       Blynken,
       and Nod.

The old moon laughed and sang a song,
As they rocked in the wooden shoe;
And the wind that sped them all night long
Ruffled the waves of dew.
The little stars were the herring fish
That lived in the beautiful sea--
"Now cast your nets wherever you wish,--
Never afeared are we!"
So cried the stars to the fishermen three,
       Wynken,
       Blynken,
       And Nod.

All night long their nets they threw
To the stars in the twinkling foam,--
Then down from the skies came the wooden shoe,
Bringing the fishermen home:
'Twas all so pretty a sail, it seemed
As if it could not be;
And some folk thought 'twas a dream they'd dreamed
Of sailing that beautiful sea;
But I shall name you the fishermen three:
       Wynken,
       Blynken,
       And Nod.

Wynken and Blynken are two little eyes,
And Nod is a little head,
And the wooden shoe that sailed the skies
Is a wee one's trundle-bed;
So shut your eyes while Mother sings
Of wonderful sights that be,
And you shall see the beautiful things
As you rock in the misty sea
Where the old shoe rocked the fishermen three:--
       Wynken,
       Blynken,
       And Nod.

Eugene Field
 Jul 2015
Et cetera
One two three four five
Once I caight a fish alive
It bit my finger, but my finger was alive
But I wasn't
I tried to get alive but I couldn't
Then I tried again
And then I realized that I am alive

~ Syed Faèz Ali
Written by my six year old nephew Syed Faèz Ali.
 Jul 2015
Poetic T
"Where are they, I only need one,

The crystalized woods were a sight to be seen
During the moonlight
Refracted of the shaded leafs, and a
thousand night rainbows bounced,
Leapt from each. Like light sewn into each branch it was
A sight to behold.

"Where are they, I can't be late the moon still shines,

This was the only time to catch one, to bestow
My need, but they were as fragile as
Fall's pilgrimage
When the woods were a dangerous place.
But worth to others the time, as the leafs passed their
Moment and fell shattering into shards upon the floor
To capture the essence that spilled upon the bladed grass
That where the splinters of leaves now fallen.
Not rigid and sharp as before but now descended
They were like silk upon the floor.

"I see you,
"At last so many falls I have waited,
"Where is my net,*

I delicately wonder, footsteps gently hide my approach,
It flies with trials of evanescent light,
Hypnotic in its short trails,
But when so many flutter before my eyes
Pictures emerge as if knowing my minds thoughts.

"It cant be they show me her,
"She is cold, so cold,
"I only need one,
"I call out regrettably,

Drop what was meant for one,
They scatter into the chandler of leaves
But there one stays I approach.

I talk softly to it out of reach.

"She entered during the falling,
"She never knew of the dangers of what descended,
"But upon skin she did graze,
"Her skin now translucent,
"The forest calls for here,
"Now the crystal makes her blood cold,

I look in silence, as it trails upon fresh breezes,
Then a few approach a crystal glistens behind each,
One lands upon my soft palm.

I feel its light penetrate warmth upon my appendages,
As I was filled with a warmth.
It turns as if to usher me too grasp upon its light,
I gently turn, as if it were paper the crystal fly
Becomes like ash tears then with trials following
It's lost fading, waning into the wind,

"I never knew,
"An existence any life lost,
"Even for a noble cause,
"I will remember this moment in word,

I ran through the forest of crystalized light,
My heart pounding against my ribs
As if to tell me to go faster,
I reach the home of a love missed.
  
"Darling I am home,

I call out in urgency.

"Is she still with us,
"Were my troubles in vain,

"No she waits with treads of breath left,
"The forest calls here stronger now,

I glance off the walls, steps like water splash
Upon each footstep, I reach the door

"She is their,
"She is nearly lost,
"She is my love,

I put the essence of what lived, but now in the winds.
Lips caress its warmth and it falls like a stone
In a well, I wait hesitantly on my breath,
I speak,

"Please life given restore what is nearly lost,
Please,
Please,
Ple.....

As what was translucent, pigment
Became once more. Where breath was a trail of light
Like a cold mornings breath,
Now fading into night.
She had come back to me,
I told her the moments that had secured her life,
And a single tear fell,
But not a normal one birthed from regret,
As it danced on the floor.

"What is this that descended a single tears shell,
"It is a crystal tear egg,

We walked in the day time days had pasted,
Taking this tear egg pulsing since once fell.

"Here my love where life gave you a chance of breath,

In to the flowing crystal cloth grass it was set,
As it wrapped, entangled upon it,
Then a light shone for a moment.
A tiny light floated up, and new life was birthed,
New light now graced this forest of crystal.

"Life had given us life,
"Now essence was returned,

We walked away, glancing back once,
As a shimmer of trails took in that lonely light.

**This is a story of what unfolded, what was marked
In ink to be remembered as a moment where even
The smallest gesture, can mean so much.
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