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He writes good.
Well, using "twenty dollar words," anyone
can coin a phrase.
Call me a ****, as I finish the intended word,
and browse said book to find the meaning.

He writes good.
Well, knowing how to place a period
is rather elementary.
But let me learn you something.

He writes good.
Well, tension is told in fragments.
No? Well. Okay.

He writes good.
Well, a minimalist knows
that every word
counts.

He writes good.
Well, to be a realist,
you must know that
coincidence differs from irony.
Step onto an elevator.
Is it coincidence that every building,
is missing the thirteenth floor?
Or is it ironic that superstition
has laid the blueprint?

He writes...well,
he writes.
The following are three random poems I made up today

                                                                My Shirt

Red, black and grey
are the colors of my shirt today
It matches my shoes vans
A pair of blue jeans
in between
to represent my blues


                                                         ­                Comp Book

I started with 100 sheets
now there are 78
free from the mesh of madness
hidden beneath the grates

                                            
                                                                ­            Hats
I don't like to wear hats
well, I do like beanies
but this nonsense over fitted caps
is just an excuse for people to be meanies
© January 17th, 2013 by Timothy R Brown. All rights reserved.
Lost in the moment.
Lost in your fantasy.
Everything is a dream.
Nothing is reality.
Temptations run high.
Everything rushes by.
Not a second goes to waste.
No time to slow down and pace.
I'm here in your arms.
Just hold me tight.
Close your eyes.
Lets take in the night.
Everything is perfect.
Everything is right.
This is the moment.
This is the time.
What I am is a variable
          for this sake lets say W
I am the result of a personal equation
My truth is invariable
At least on this occasion

Multiply my changes(c) by 21
Those are the years I've spent beneath our sun
      21c
The purpose of this piece is
to formulate when my living begun

Divided by fear plus attraction
this will not be the only abstraction
As the sum will be added to a negative distraction
This is already becoming a complicated fraction
(21c)/-D+(F+A)

Fear is the number of years Ive spent
subservient
to my mind                


Attraction is the number of times
I've forsaken my chains
and made dollars out of nickles and dimes
This formula is not yet complete. I must take into account other determining factors
© January 15th, 2012 by Timothy R Brown. All rights reserved.
You are My Constant, touching my skies
and surrounding me with the pleasure
of your existence.  
This is an ancient truth
held by the hand of time
and cannot be concealed
or brought down,
futile is resistance.

I will never exhibit thorns
in between my words
or to your feelings
when walking  alone
on the shores of my sea.
You are My Constant,
sailing always in the back of my mind,
a ship flying your colors
to the port of me.

You are My Constant.  
The one I can never forget.
Without words you have spoken
to my heart
all these years.  
You are my sun,
the light of all my hope.
My Constant,
the one I hold inside my heart,
most dear.
Copyright @2013 - Neva Flores - Changefulstorm
While the sun is sleeping and the morning dj's too,
The radio news anchor is in to work by three
It's not because we're busy, or we're special..no, no , no
It's because the station trusts us, and besides...we have the key!!

We're on the road, at Dunkin' Donuts,
while the day olds are still fresh
We're in before the DJ's
Because we don't live like Phil Lesh

By the time the DJ's wander in
We've read more, than they will say
We've even cued up the morning intro
We know the songs they all will play

We have our room for research
Actually, two newspapers and a phone
We're not quite Walter Cronkite
But, hey...throw us a bone

The life of a radio anchor
Is not one that's all rosy
We do it 'cause we love it
It's not just because we're nosy

We get the freshest donuts, hottest coffee and the key
And did I neglect to mention, first one in gets donuts free?
The DJ's do their concerts, party hard, are full of soul
And twice a week you'll find them, down at Skippy's Pool and Bowl

We're not all like Les Nessman
Although, there is  a part of me
That would love to have a station
Like old W K R P

The life of the news anchor
Starts out daily in the dark
We dig around for stories
And make up others for a lark

We are in line for more promotions
We're the one that the boss sees
Did I mention, we get donuts
And that the boss gives us the key?
For Chuck Rowe, who challenged me to write one about Radio News Anchors, because he's lonely and felt left out. Here you go Chuck.
I've heard that love comes from the heart
But I don't quite know what that means.
My heart is a muscle, biological tissue
Pumping out blood into streams.

Aorta, vessels, atriums, arteries:
The anatomy, what its made of.
I searched and searched yet failed to find
The containment and source of love.

Scientists and doctors got it wrong,
Grey must have made a mistake.
If the heart is not the source of love,
Why does love make the heart break?
I wander through your thoughts
with eyes full of silent moisture
falling down on those walls
you blindly live behind.  
I listen to the loneliest heartbeat
convincing your other half,
inner peace.........
has been found.
Planting seeds in your mind.

I wonder should I leave this place
never return to visit
your future full of pain,
or continue raining silent moisture every day.  
These walls you live behind are a fortress
that drain my soul,
no matter how hard I try,
alone.....
I cannot make them dissipate.
Copyright @Neva Flores-Changefulstorm 01/12/2013
 Jan 2013 Nigel Obiya
Abdosh A
Dear U
Ive been meaning to talk to you
Forgive me for not coming through
The promise I once made for you
Don't ever think I forgot about you
I know I never left you a clue
Of why I left and moved on
Tho I thought you where planning the same thing too
Truth to be said it wasn't true
Bound by an idea
We didn't carefully plan through
I wish I would of told you
Instead of ignoring you
I didn't know what I felt for you
The first time for all the wrong reasons
From all the attention it washed through
On the other hand there is so much I needed to do
A journey unknown to conquer on my own
Where life takes me not knowing where I belong
Or what destiny holds for me, Happiness or Misery.
I'm sorry if I hurt you
I just wasn't the vest for you
Hope you find the one true
Sincerely
From
Me
To
U
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