Tink's favorite poems

[tinkerbell]

I do too babe.  te kiero mucho tambiene.    workin the f@cking graveyard tonite.  damn I'm hella pissed.  I <3 U princes

I still get the red face when you say that...LOL    I guess I need to get used to it, so keep saying it...  
*Ugh* graveyar shif!  I know the feeling, but hang in there, for soon you will not have to work for almost two months.  Tepe quieperopo, tepe apamopo mupuchopo Chris.

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The Darkling Thrush


I leant upon a coppice gate
When Frost was spectre-gray,
And Winter's dregs made desolate
The weakening eye of day.
The tangled bine-stems scored the sky
Like strings of broken lyres,
And all mankind that haunted nigh
Had sought their household fires.
The land's sharp features seem'd to be
The Century's corpse outleant,
His crypt the cloudy canopy,
The wind his death-lament.
The ancient pulse of germ and birth
Was shrunken hard and dry,
And every spirit upon earth
Seem'd fervourless as I.

At once a voice arose among
The bleak twigs overhead
In a full-hearted evensong
Of joy illimited;
An aged thrush, frail, gaunt, and small,
In blast-beruffled plume,
Had chosen thus to fling his soul
Upon the growing gloom.

So little cause for carollings
Of such ecstatic sound
Was written on terrestrial things
Afar or nigh around,
That I could think there trembled through
His happy good-night air
Some blessèd Hope, whereof he knew
And I was unaware.

Thomas Hardy



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Footprints in the Sand


One night I dreamed I was walking along the beach with the Lord.
Many scenes from my life flashed across the sky.
In each scene I noticed footprints in the sand.
Sometimes there were two sets of footprints,
other times there were one set of footprints.

This bothered me because I noticed
that during the low periods of my life,
when I was suffering from
anguish, sorrow or defeat,
I could see only one set of footprints.

So I said to the Lord,
"You promised me Lord,
that if I followed you,
you would walk with me always.
But I have noticed that during the most trying periods of my life
there have only been one set of footprints in the sand.
Why, when I needed you most, you have not been there for me?"

The Lord replied,
"The times when you have seen only one set of footprints in the sand,
is when I carried you."

Mary Stevenson


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A Birthday


My heart is like a singing bird
Whose nest is in a water'd shoot;
My heart is like an apple-tree
Whose boughs are bent with thick-set fruit;
My heart is like a rainbow shell
That paddles in a halcyon sea;
My heart is gladder than all these,
Because my love is come to me.

Raise me a dais of silk and down;
Hand it with vair and purple dyes;
Carve it in doves and pomegranates,
And peacocks with a hundred eyes;
Work it in gold and silver grapes,
In leaves and silver fleurs-de-lys;
Because the birthday of my life
Is come, my love is come to me.

Christina Georgina Rossetti


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Wild Nights


Wild nights. Wild nights!
Were I with thee,
Wild nights should be
Our luxury!

Futile the winds
To a heart in port
Done with the compass
Done with the chart.

Rowing in Eden.
Ah, the sea.
Might I but moor
Tonight with thee!

Emily Dickinson

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Taking Off Emily Dickinson's Clothes


First, her tippet made of tulle,
easily lifted off her shoulders and laid
on the back of a wooden chair.

And her bonnet,
the bow undone with a light forward pull.

Then the long white dress, a more
complicated matter with mother-of-pearl
buttons down the back,
so tiny and numerous that it takes forever
before my hands can part the fabric,
like a swimmer's dividing water,
and slip inside.

You will want to know
that she was standing
by an open window in an upstairs bedroom,
motionless, a little wide-eyed,
looking out at the orchard below,
the white dress puddled at her feet
on the wide-board, hardwood floor.

The complexity of women's undergarments
in nineteenth-century America
is not to be waved off,
and I proceeded like a polar explorer
through clips, clasps, and moorings,
catches, straps, and whalebone stays,
sailing toward the iceberg of her nakedness.

Later, I wrote in a notebook
it was like riding a swan into the night,
but, of course, I cannot tell you everything -
the way she closed her eyes to the orchard,
how her hair tumbled free of its pins,
how there were sudden dashes
whenever we spoke.

What I can tell you is
it was terribly quiet in Amherst
that Sabbath afternoon,
nothing but a carriage passing the house,
a fly buzzing in a windowpane.

So I could plainly hear her inhale
when I undid the very top
hook-and-eye fastener of her corset

and I could hear her sigh when finally it was unloosed,
the way some readers sigh when they realize
that Hope has feathers,
that reason is a plank,
that life is a loaded gun
that looks right at you with a yellow eye.

Billy Collins

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Sonnet 18


Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance, or nature's changing course untrimm'd;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st;
Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st:
So long as man can breath, or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

William Shakespeare

[Christo]

I still get the red face when you say that...LOL    I guess I need to get used to it, so keep saying it...  
*Ugh* graveyard shift!  I know the feeling, but hang in there, for soon you will not have to work for almost two months.  Tepe quieperopo, tepe apamopo mupuchopo Chris.

dont be red face princes. I say it everydday somtimes u dont hear it but I say it everyday befor goin 2 sleep no more graveyard shift 4 me till next week I'm dancin   good nite princes  I <3 U


a special word

A Special World

A special world for you and me
A special bond one cannot see
It wraps us up in its cocoon
And holds us fiercely in its womb.

Its fingers spread like fine spun gold
Gently nestling us to the fold
Like silken thread it holds us fast
Bonds like this are meant to last.

And though at times a thread may break
A new one forms in its wake
To bind us closer and keep us strong
In a special world, where we belong.



An Entrapment

My love, I have tried with all my being
to grasp a form comparable to thine own,
but nothing seems worthy;

I know now why Shakespeare could not
compare his love to a summer's day.
It would be a crime to denounce the beauty
of such a creature as thee,
to simply cast away the precision
God had placed in forging you.

Each facet of your being
whether it physical or spiritual
is an ensnarement
from which there is no release.
But I do not wish release.
I wish to stay entrapped forever.
With you for all eternity.
Our hearts, always as one.



If

If I could have just one wish,
I would wish to wake up everyday
to the sound of your breath on my neck,
the warmth of your lips on my cheek,
the touch of your fingers on my skin,
and the feel of your heart beating with mine...
Knowing that I could never find that feeling
with anyone other than you.


you


A gentle word like a spark of light,
Illuminates my soul
And as each sound goes deeper,
It's YOU that makes me whole

There is no corner, no dark place,
YOUR LOVE cannot fill
And if the world starts causing waves,
It's your devotion that makes them still

And yes you always speak to me,
In sweet honesty and truth
Your caring heart keeps out the rain,
YOUR LOVE, the ultimate roof

So thank you my Love for being there,
For supporting me, my life
I'll do the same for you, you know,
My Beautiful, Darling Wife.




what U have become

A stranger you were once.
Then, with a gentle look you took my hand.
As our lives engaged,
you lit my life and I held both your hands.
Now that time has passed,
ours souls have indeed become one.
How fortunate we are
that we have found the love so true
that everyone dreams about.



Your Name

I wrote your name in the sky,
but the wind blew it away.
I wrote your name in the sand,
but the waves washed it away.
I wrote your name in my heart,
and forever it will stay.


I <3 U

[tinkerbell]

dont be red face princes. I say it everydday somtimes u dont hear it but I say it everyday befor goin 2 sleep no more graveyard shift 4 me till next week I'm dancin   good nite princes  I <3 U

Awwww...that is the sweetest thing I have heard in a long time.  Thank you, Chris.
I'm also glad you won't have to work the graveyard shift until sometime next week.  Chat later handsome man!


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This is for you Tink:

Sometimes it's hard to be a woman
Giving all your love to just one man
You'll have bad times, he'll have good times
Doin' things that you don't understand

But if you love him, you'll forgive him
Even though he's hard to understand
And if you love him, oh be proud of him
'Cause after all he's just a man.

Stand by your man, give him two arms to cling to
And something warm to come to
When nights are cold and lonely.
Stand by your man, and show the world you love him
Keep giving all the love you can.
Stand by your man.

Stand by your man, and show the world you love him
Keep giving all the love you can.
Stand by your man.


Stand By Your Man
Billy Sherrill and Tammy Wynette

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The naming of cats is a difficult matter,
It isn't just one of your holiday games;
You may think at first I'm mad as a hatter
When I tell you a cat must have three
different names.

First of all, there's the name
that the family use daily,
Such as Victor, or Jonathan,
George or Bill Bailey--
All of them sensible everyday names.
There are fancier names
if you think they sound sweeter,
Some for the gentlemen,
some for the dames;
Such as Plato, Admetus,
Electra, Demeter--
But all of them sensible everyday names.

But I tell you,
a cat needs a name that's particular,
A name that is peculiar, and more dignified,
Else how can he
keep up his tail perpendicular,
Or spread out his whiskers,
or cherish his pride?

Of names of this kind,
I can give you a quorum,
Such as Munkustrap, Quazo or Coripat,
Such as Bombalurina, or else Jellyrum--
Names that never belong
to more than one cat.

But above and beyond
there's still one name left over,
And that is the name that you will never guess;
The name
that no human research can discover--
But The Cat Himself Knows,
and will never confess.

When you notice a cat in profound meditation,
The reason, I tell you, is always the same:
His mind is engaged in rapt contemplation
Of the thought, of the thought,
of the thought of his name:
His ineffable effable
Effanineffable
Deep and inscrutable singular Name.

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The Darkling Thrush

I leant upon a coppice gate
When Frost was spectre-gray,
And Winter's dregs made desolate
The weakening eye of day.
The tangled bine-stems scored the sky
Like strings of broken lyres,
And all mankind that haunted nigh
Had sought their household fires.
The land's sharp features seem'd to be
The Century's corpse outleant,
His crypt the cloudy canopy,
The wind his death-lament.
The ancient pulse of germ and birth
Was shrunken hard and dry,
And every spirit upon earth
Seem'd fervourless as I.

At once a voice arose among
The bleak twigs overhead
In a full-hearted evensong
Of joy illimited;
An aged thrush, frail, gaunt, and small,
In blast-beruffled plume,
Had chosen thus to fling his soul
Upon the growing gloom.

So little cause for carollings
Of such ecstatic sound
Was written on terrestrial things
Afar or nigh around,
That I could think there trembled through
His happy good-night air
Some blessèd Hope, whereof he knew
And I was unaware.

Thomas Hardy

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When I Heard The
Learn'd Astronomer


When I heard the learn'd astronomer,
When the proofs, the figures, were ranged in columns before me,
When I was shown the charts and diagrams, to add, divide, and measure them,
When I sitting heard the astronomer where he lectured
with much applause in the lecture-room,

How soon unaccountable I became tired and sick,
Till rising and gliding out I wander'd off by myself,
In the mystical moist night-air, and from time to time,
Look'd up in perfect silence at the stars.

Walt Whitman

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How Do I Love Thee


How do I love thee? Let me count the ways
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight.
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace
I love thee to the level of everyday's
Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints, --I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life! -- and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.


Elizabeth Barrett Browning

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Life in a Love


Escape me?
Never—
Beloved!
While I am I, and you are you,
So long as the world contains us both,
Me the loving and you the loth,
While the one eludes, must the other pursue.
My life is a fault at last, I fear—
It seems too much like a fate, indeed!
Though I do my best I shall scarce succeed—
But what if I fail of my purpose here?


It is but to keep the nerves at strain,
To dry one's eyes and laugh at a fall,
And baffled, get up to begin again,—
So the chase takes up one's life, that's all.
While, look but once from your farthest bound,
At me so deep in the dust and dark,
No sooner the old hope drops to ground
Than a new one, straight to the selfsame mark,
I shape me—
Ever
Removed!


Robert Browning

[Christo]

Awwww...that is the sweetest thing I have heard in a long time.  Thank you, Chris.
I'm also glad you won't have to work the graveyard shift until sometime next week.  Chat later handsome man!

your welcome princes.  its true.  I say that evry nite
ring ring tommorrow?   good nite princes.    I <3 U


Dance Me To The End Of Love

Dance with me in love
Dance with me in life
When did enduring love begin?
The day we became man and wife

There is patience and understanding
We try to be unselfish and kind
Though not a fairy-tale romance
No greater love will we find

Sharing dreams, passions, and desires
Building each other up when we fall
We've learned to say I'm sorry
And I love you through it all

Our two hearts beat as one
Cherishing what we have from above
Dance with me forever
Dance me to the end of love.




Everytime I Look At The Stars

I gazed in your eyes,
Such a beautiful sight;
My heart whispered to me,
And that's right when I knew;
The waves had ceased crashing,
On the sand at our feet;
Time had stopped passing,
My search was complete;
I finally discovered,
What I'd known all along;
A mystery uncovered,
That just couldn't be wrong;
It wasn't our first kiss,
Nor' the day that we met;
But I realized something,
I will never forget;
With the stars shining brightly,
From high up above;
I'd one word to describe it,
That word, is love.
I knew then these feelings,
For my sweetheart were true;
The girl of my dreams,
And my soulmate, is you.
I think of it every time,
That I look at the stars;
This memory is mine,
But that moment was
OURS.



When I First Looked Into Your Eyes

When first I looked into your eyes
each breath became a thousand sighs.
My heart drummed out a thunder beat
I glowed with joy from head to feet.
The hand of love had touched my soul,
as the bell of destiny began to toll.
The tide of love began to rise,
the world was filled with summer skies.
My sodden clouds of cold and grey
glowed with gold, then wisped away.
A brilliant rainbow arched across,
as waves of love began to toss.
The air was filled with lovebird cries,
when I first looked into your eyes.

When I first looked into your eyes,
all time and space were paralyzed
And in that instant, I was shown
a universe I had never known.
I dwell there still, in Paradise,
when I look into your eyes.




One Special Night

As I sit here gazing out the window,
Instead of working, I'm daydreaming of you...
And wondering if while you're in your own world,
You're thinking of me too.

I reminisce about the day we'll meet and how you'll make me feel,
Looking at the glowing smile on your face,
Staring into your dreamy eyes,
Your smell, your touch, your warm embrace

What a special night that will be...

And now, I'm starting to feel that warmth inside,
Like nothing or no one else can make me feel...
Butterflies, a constant smile, happy thoughts,
Looking forward to  time we'll meet.

What lies ahead, down the road to love?
Can it possibly be what I've been hoping for?
All my goals, dreams, passions, hopes...
Glaring now before me with great anticipation.

No one knows what tomorrow brings...
One can only wish and believe...
I have abounding faith that God will take care of me,
And bring the right person into my life.

Could it be you?
Time will tell...
I feel a special bond starting between us,
And so I'm truly hopeful that it is (you).




Our Sonnet

Sweet Lady, song of my heart,
Hold my hand, as this journey we start.
Lift me up in spirit of joy and gladness;
And shield my soul from heartbreak and sadness.
Steadfast, honest and true;
Your partner is here and will forever love you.

It is my prayer that I will always be;
The one who brings you joy and sets your spirit free.
With my love I'll cover you and warm your soul with mine;
Give you pleasures – like none you will find.
Your Sweet Lady, song of your heart;
Will love you forever, together or apart.

So hear me Sweet Lady, and know in your soul;
That there is no better future than with you to grow old.
Endless caresses, touches and kisses;
Our passion a banner for our love's true existence.
My hand I extend and my honor I offer;
For being with you my love, there is no greater pleasure.

Your hand I accept, and all your love as well;
My heart sings so loudly, all can tell
I am loved and in love with the man made for me
Hold my hand; let us walk through this life
Being what we were meant to be
Together.



I <3 U princes

[tinkerbell]

your welcome princes.  its true.  I say that evry nite
ring ring tommorrow?   good nite princes.    I <3 U

Thank you Chris.   and also a big thanks for the ring ring.  I'm so at peace right now; your voice calms me down and I thank you for that.  Have a wonderful evening handsome man.

Dance Me To The End Of Love

I love this title; you know that I'd dance with you to the end of love, don't you? 

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Beautiful Dreamer

Beautiful dreamer, wake unto me,
Starlight and dewdrops are waiting for thee;
Sounds of the rude world heard in the day,
Lull'd by the moonlight have all pass'd away!

Beautiful dreamer, queen of my song,
List while I woo thee with soft melody;
Gone are the cares of life's busy throng.

Beautiful dreamer, awake unto me!
Beautiful dreamer, awake unto me!

Beautiful dreamer, out on the sea,
Mermaids are chaunting the wild lorelie;
Over the streamlet vapors are borne,
Waiting to fade at the bright coming morn.

Beautiful dreamer, beam on my heart,
E'en as the morn on the streamlet and sea;
Then will all clouds of sorrow depart,

Beautiful dreamer, awake unto me!


Stephen Foster

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Bright Star, Would I Were Steadfast as Thou Art

Bright star, would I were steadfast as thou art—
   Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night,
And watching, with eternal lids apart,
   Like nature's patient sleepless eremite,
The moving waters at their priestlike task
   Of pure ablution round earth's human shores,
Or gazing on the new soft-fallen mask
   Of snow upon the mountains and the moors;
No—yet still steadfast, still unchangeable,
   Pillow'd upon my fair love's ripening breast,
To feel for ever its soft fall and swell,
   Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,
Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,
And so live ever—or else swoon to death.

John Keats

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First Love

I ne'er was struck before that hour
With love so sudden and so sweet.
Her face it bloomed like a sweet flower 
And stole my heart away complete. 

My face turned pale, a deadly pale.
My legs refused to walk away,
And when she looked what could I ail
My life and all seemed turned to clay. 

And then my blood rushed to my face 
And took my eyesight quite away.
The trees and bushes round the place 
Seemed midnight at noonday.

I could not see a single thing,
Words from my eyes did start.
They spoke as chords do from the string,
And blood burnt round my heart. 

Are flowers the winter's choice
Is love's bed always snow
She seemed to hear my silent voice 
Not love appeals to know.

I never saw so sweet a face
As that I stood before.
My heart has left its dwelling place
And can return no more.

John Clare

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I Love Thee 


I love thee, as I love the calm
    Of sweet, star-lighted hours!
I love thee, as I love the balm
    Of early jes'mine flow'rs.

I love thee, as I love the last
    Rich smile of fading day,
Which lingereth, like the look we cast,
    On rapture pass'd away.

I love thee as I love the tone
    Of some soft-breathing flute
Whose soul is wak'd for me alone,
    When all beside is mute.

I love thee as I love the first
    Young violet of the spring;
Or the pale lily, April-nurs'd,
    To scented blossoming.

I love thee, as I love the full,
    Clear gushings of the song,
Which lonely—sad—and beautiful—
    At night-fall floats along,

Pour'd by the bul-bul forth to greet
    The hours of rest and dew;
When melody and moonlight meet
    To blend their charm, and hue.

I love thee, as the glad bird loves
    The freedom of its wing,
On which delightedly it moves
    In wildest wandering.

I love thee as I love the swell,
    And hush, of some low strain,
Which bringeth, by its gentle spell,
    The past to life again.

Such is the feeling which from thee
    Nought earthly can allure:
'Tis ever link'd to all I see
    Of gifted—high—and pure!


Elisa Acton


TQM Chris!   

P.S.  Do you like my new avatar and the statement below it? 

[Christo]

Thank you Chris.   and also a big thanks for the ring ring.  I'm so at peace right now; your voice calms me down and I thank you for that.  Have a wonderful evening handsome man.

your welcome princes.  aww thanx u will gotta listen 2 my voice face to face soon.  lol   I <3 U

Dance Me To The End Of Love

I love this title; you know that I'd dance with you to the end of love, don't you? 

yep Iknow  wooohooooo I <3 U  & I'm dancin'


My lady's presence makes the roses red

My lady's presence makes the roses red,
Because to see her lips they blush for shame.
The lily's leaves, for envy, pale became,
And her white hands in them this envy bred.
The marigold the leaves abroad doth spread,
Because the sun's and her power is the same.
The violet of purple colour came.
Dyed in the blood she made my heart to shed.
In brief: all flowers from her their virtue take;
From her sweet breath their sweet smells do proceed;
The living heat which her eyebeams doth make
Warmeth the ground and quickeneth the seed.
The rain, wherewith she watereth the flowers,
Falls from mine eyes, which she dissolves in showers.



Love

Love bade me welcome: yet my soul drew back,
     Guilty of dust and sin.
But quick-eyed Love, observing me grow slack
     From my first entrance in,
Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning
     If I lacked anything.

"A guest," I answered, "worthy to be here":
     Love said, "You shall be he."
"I, the unkind, ungrateful? Ah, my dear,
     I cannot look on thee."
Love took my hand, and smiling did reply,
     "Who made the eyes but I?"

"Truth, Lord; but I have marred them; let my shame
     Go where it doth deserve."
"And know you not," says Love, "who bore the blame?"
     "My dear, then I will serve."
"You must sit down," says Love, "and taste my meat."
     So I did sit and eat.



The Definition of my Love

My love is of a birth as rare
As 'tis for object strange and high;
It was begotten by Despair
Upon Impossibility.

Magnanimous Despair alone
Could show me so divine a thing
Where feeble Hope could ne'er have flown,
But vainly flapp'd its tinsel wing.

And yet I quickly might arrive
Where my extended soul is fixt,
But Fate does iron wedges drive,
And always crowds itself betwixt.

For Fate with jealous eye does see
Two perfect loves, nor lets them close;
Their union would her ruin be,
And her tyrannic pow'r depose.

And therefore her decrees of steel
Us as the distant poles have plac'd,
(Though love's whole world on us doth wheel)
Not by themselves to be embrac'd;

Unless the giddy heaven fall,
And earth some new convulsion tear;
And, us to join, the world should all
Be cramp'd into a planisphere.

As lines, so loves oblique may well
Themselves in every angle greet;
But ours so truly parallel,
Though infinite, can never meet.

Therefore the love which us doth bind,
But Fate so enviously debars,
Is the conjunction of the mind,
And opposition of the stars.



To You

Drink to me, only, with thine eyes,
     And I will pledge with mine;
Or leave a kiss but in the cup,
     And I'll not look for wine.
The thirst that from the soul doth rise,
     Doth ask a drink divine:
But might I of Jove's nectar sup,
     I would not change for thine.
I sent thee, late, a rosy wreath,
     Not so much honouring thee,
As giving it a hope, that there
     It could not withered be.
But thou thereon didst only breathe,
     And sent'st back to me:
Since when it grows, and smells, I swear,
     Not of itself, but thee.



To You, Princes

Sweet stream that winds through yonder glade,
Apt emblem of a virtuous maid—
Silent and chaste she steals along,
Far from the world's gay busy throng:
With gentle yet prevailing force,
Intent upon her destined course;
Graceful and useful all she does,
Blessing and blest where'er she goes;
Pure-bosom'd as that watery glass,
And Heaven reflected in her face.



I<3 U








   

[Squirrel]

What a treasure trove of beautiful poetry!  Has anyone told you how special you are Tink?



S

[tinkerbell]

What a treasure trove of beautiful poetry!  Has anyone told you how special you are Tink?



S

Recently yes!    I now have a helper so there are more poems than before.  Thank you and please feel free to post anything you wish.

tink

[Squirrel]

Hope for things to come
Ambition induced dreams
Inventive spark of life
Induced in mental stream

It's my job.

S

[cindianna_jones]

life's spirit shared
sparks interest in new day
days lead to years
time steals the light
tired and weak,
I rest.

Cindi

[tinkerbell]

your welcome princes.  aww thanx u will gotta listen 2 my voice face to face soon.  lol   I <3 U

Yeah, strange things are happening lately, Chris.  Not with you of course
You know, I like Sharon Stone's famous line in "Basic Instincts.  "I may be a lot of things but I'm not stupid"    how true that statement is for me.  So, twenty how many days is now?  LOL    good night handsome man. 

******************************************************************



Flux
   

Mercurial is my love for you;
Shape shifting apparition blithe.
In state of flux and never still
I dance with step unceasing lithe
And play whatever role you will
Or your slightest bidding do.

A different face does my love wear
As through each pendular arc it swings,
Between eternal friendship's weld
And love eternal lovers bring
When arms encircle, bodies meld,
And moonlight plays on skin and hair.

For I would be these things to you:
Father, brother, lover, friend.
What you desire that shall I be.
I forfeit self and without end
I offer love in all degree,
But for your least affections sue.

To plead my love in dead of night,
A moon by metaphor, I strive.
Come, reveal your will to me
That I may live and feel alive,
Though I your base apprentice be
And glow by your reflected light.


Robert Clarke




*******************************************************************


Thinking in the Sky at Night
   

  It was always strange, the trick of eyes
When staring off into the black,
Before the clouds had closed
Their down blanket over the sky,
Speckled like dirty mirrors,
And wonder, how near overhead?

Oft the points of light overhead
Wander away from the eyes,
To wonder what metaphor mirrors
All that is fathomless and black,
Up there in the great sky
When most faculties have closed.

Precisely the thoughts closed
As the airplanes flew overhead,
Blinking across the desolate sky.
And so taken were the eyes,
Thus tearing through the black
With a noise that could crack mirrors.

All of the questions it mirrored
And the doors never to be closed,
Turning black upon black
In vain hope that no idea goes overhead.
Reason is lost in the expanse of the eyes
Staring into the bold, dark sky.

And lost in the sea of the sky
That lays smooth as mirrors,
Against a stretched membrane in the eyes,
How the world is infinitely closed
And the stars always overhead
Accent the immense black.

Black
Sky
Overhead
Mirrors
Closed
Eyes.

The ambient black finds its mirrors
And the sky has so near in closed,
That we look overhead and see merely eyes.

Michael Veremans

*******************************************************************


My Soul Hears
   

  my soul hears your poetry
before it's anxious drastic lines
appear to perspicacity
within your broad, elastic mind.

and my heart feels each wound you own
before the metaphor occurs
before you even write the poems,
i've heard the rhymes; i know the words.

because my love for you transcends
these bodies - minds - the years between.
tho unity i comprehend,
to youthful vision goes unseen.

moon batchelder


*******************************************************************




Spider Perspicacity


I watched as she carefully
checked each connection
on the matrix of her web.



First the radial strands
Checking the stabilty
of each strand,
a time consuming job.



To these she would
carefully fasten ladders
of lateral webs,


Each skillfully coated
with a layer of adhesive.


When the task was
completed, she retreated
to the center of the web.


Curled up in a small ball,
exhausted, and went to sleep.


The prey will call...! !



Unknown Author

[cindianna_jones]

You'd think it black
devoid of matter
yet filled with stars
the space between should be dark

Lumpy darkness is what you'll see
when you pear into that space

Empty yet filled with something
you can't tell what it is
but you'll see it there.

- Cindi Jones

[Christo]

Yeah, strange things are happening lately, Chris.  Not with you of course
You know, I like Sharon Stone's famous line in "Basic Instincts.  "I may be a lot of things but I'm not stupid"    how true that statement is for me.  So, twenty how many days is now?  LOL    good night handsome man. 

what;s up princes.  bad mood again?  I know u aint stupid.  who;s sayin ->-bleeped-<- like that? 23 days & countin whooohoooo   gotta work the graveyard shift friday again.  damn I'm hella pissed but like u say only 3 more wks & I'm outta here babe     good nite princes
I <3 U


when I think of U

When i think of you i feel my heart beat, i feel my arms weak, and float, float along in the air, with a soft pace, and then feel weak, again.
When i think of you, it rains, it sings, and all emotions come to an end.
Whn i think of you, i remember us, sitting high up, kissing all night long, and happiness around us.
When i think of you i see light, i see love, i feel sad, and it goes away very fast. When i feel love i think of you, when i feel happy i think of you, then i think of us. Sometimes when i cry, for whatever reason, it all goes back to you, and why im sad, its you.
When i run, and my body sweats, and feels warm, i feel you, like i felt all the times we were together, i feel good, then it goes away.
WHen i think of you i can hear my favorite songs, i can sing my dearest melodies, and i can imagine myself in the best place on earth. Then it goes away. When i remember happiness, the last time i felt it, i had you in my arms, tight, and we felt so close it was a heaven day. It went away soon.
When i think of you, my love, i can see all pages in my life, and the the ones after i lost you are empty, they have nothing, just day and nights, the first ones have love, have colors, and have you. 

<3 U 

[tinkerbell]

what;s up princes.  bad mood again?  I know u aint stupid.  who;s sayin ->-bleeped-<- like that? 23 days & countin whooohoooo   gotta work the graveyard shift friday again.  damn I'm hella pissed but like u say only 3 more wks & I'm outta here babe     good nite princes
I <3 U

No one is saying anything.  It's my seventh sense, you know. It never fails.  Oh boy, it would seem that your boss "likes" you somehow to schedule you at night.  LOL    Think positively my handsome man, very soon you won't have to work for a few weeks.  Yay, I couldn't be happier for you.  Rest up and have a wonderful evening.
Tepe quieperopo mupuchopo, tepe apamopo, Chris

******************************************************************


INTEGRITY


It is not what we eat

but what we digest

that makes us strong;

not what we gain

but what we save

that make us rich;

not what we read

but what we remember

that makes us learned;

and not what we profess

but what we practice

that gives us Integrity.


Author Unknown

******************************************************************


MEN AND WOMEN OF CHARACTER

The world needs men and women. . .


who cannot be bought;
whose word is their bond;
who put character above wealth;
who possess opinions and a strong will;
who are larger than their vocations;
who do not hesitate to take risks;
who will not lose their individuality in a crowd;
who will be as honest in small affairs as in greater;
who will make no compromise with wrong;
whose ambitions are not confined to their own selfish desires;
who will not say they do it "because everybody else does it;"
who are true to their friends through good and bad, in adversity as well as in prosperity;
who do not believe that shrewdness, cunning, and hardheadedness are the best qualities for winning success;
who are not ashamed or afraid to stand for the truth when it is unpopular;
who can say "no" with emphasis, although all the rest of the world says "yes."

Author Unknown

*******************************************************************



The Missing Wife
   
            Wife and dog missing.
               Reward for the dog.
                     bumper sticker on a pickup truck
   
The wife and the dog planned their escape
months in advance, laid up biscuits and bones,
waited for the careless moment when he'd forget
to latch the gate, then hightailed it.

They took shelter in the forest, camouflaged
the scent of their trail with leaves.
Free of him at last,
they peed with relief on a tree.

Time passed. They came and went as they pleased,
chased sticks when they felt like chasing sticks,
dug holes in what they came to regard
as their own backyard. They unlearned
how to roll over and play dead.

In spring the dog wandered off in pursuit
of a rabbit. Collared by a hunter and returned
to the master for $25, he lives
on a tight leash now. He sleeps
on the wife's side of the bed,
whimpering, pressing his snout
into her pillow, breathing the scent
of her hair.

And the wife? She's moved deep into the heart
of the forest. She walks
on all fours, fetches for no man, performs
no tricks. She is content. Only sometimes
she gets lonely, remembers how he would nuzzle
her cheek and comfort her when she twitched
and thrashed in her sleep.

Unknown Author

*******************************************************************


Shattered Glass


Sometimes I feel like a glass
A glass that has been smashed upon the ground
And broken into thousands of tiny pieces
I can't ever seem to make sense of these fragments
And when I think about their multitude
I become overwhelmed
Depressed and frustrated with their shrewdness
The rough edges, and in general, the lack of completeness
I just wish I were whole again
Beautiful
But now I feel ugly- disassembled
How can a broken glass be of any use?
A whole glass is useful, practical
It can be used for drinking, or as a vase to hold wildflowers
It is set upon the countertop and respected by all
What becomes of the broken glass?
It is swept through the door and left outside
Left outside in the sunlight
The sunlight
The sun is like God
It is warmth, beauty, and light
It shines down on both the whole and the broken glass
The whole glass absorbs the majority of light
Reflecting just enough to shine one perpetually annoying bright light
Into the eyes of any unlucky onlooker
The broken glass, however,
With its jagged cuts and angles
Becomes like thousands of tiny prisms
Receiving the light and reflecting it in unexpected glory
Causing tiny rainbows to dance upon the walls of the house
Projecting luminous rays in every shadow and crack
Reaching where light is not often found
Could this be the reason for brokenness?
If the glass had not been shattered, it could not have been as greatly used
To reflect the likeness of God in so many unique ways
I often complain
Become frustrated and confused
Feeling like I have been broken and not understanding the reason
But God has a plan
Perhaps He will use the events in my life
To reach people in a way no other person can
To reflect His love
And shine His light
And maybe the reason I have been shattered
Is to make me just a little more beautiful
Than before.


Unknown Author

*******************************************************************


The New World Order

My dearly departed spoke of former past to come
When man picks up bows and arrows like days of old
For life shall be hard for those unwilling
Than bow before the beast and his instant tracking

Those unwilling cannot buy without the mark
They will move to land they once drank from streams
For life will be hard with heaviness on ones back
Than to bow before the beast and his instant tracking

Woe to ambled unwilling an arm to swing for food
When he must succumb to the cry of children
For life will be hard when many miles are not suffered on his feet
Than bow before the beast and his instant tracking

News from afar speak terror
When terrorists accelerate the pace to make the mark
For fear of man shall force to hold his freedom to roam
To bow before the beast and his instant tracking

One will not need the paper mark to make the trade
And travel in far off lands to make exchange
Without the need to carry image of ones proof
To bow before the beast and his instant tracking


Unknown Author

*******************************************************************



River Carry


River carry where you flow
From simple stream
Through winding hill
Thrown on boulders in your path

River carry  where you will
From highest mountain
Through roaring rumble
Thunder down  from highest cliff

River carry where you give
From wench you grew
A drink of life to  nourish all
Open eyes to flowing river

River carry where you borne
From lay of flow
A bed of bosom gentle breast
Strongest fish slumbers rest

River carry to deepest ocean
From all your breath
Through your Spirit I understand
A flowing river I carry to the end.

Unknown Author


******************************************************************


America


America is a land of dreams and desire
A land of plenty and materialism
A land exploited with Alaska next
Corporate greed inseparable

A land of lies for the rich
An instant fix to all opposed
A policy made of greed
A schemer of crafty laws

Your child a commercialized victim
Your mind embroiled with corporal satiation
America you have lost who blessed you
You have become a land of deviates

You bully your neighbors declaring democracy
You have made enemies by bulldozing
You built a great empire
And lost all truth

You pump and make your fill every week
In your dream travel
You have insatiable appetite for temporary
You have no respect for land

The same day you built your dream
You throw all discards including humans
You wrap your preciousness and things
You feast while down street children hunger

You tell others you are the greatest in the world
The freedom to right evil
Sex, lies, cheating, all sin acceptable norm
Why have you forsaken your blessings?

America you now lead the world
The world of goods, trash and ego
A world like no other in history
A world close to end

Why have you forsaken good?
Your blessings my be taken
You could end up cursed
But not all is despair

As you open your eyes daily
Remind yourself who blesses
Open your heart to good
Listen to that small voice.

Unknown Author

******************************************************************


A Single Grain of Sand


One early morning we sat upon driftwood log
Uncle Usugan and I enjoyed crystal clean air
Beautiful soft waves lapped Tununak beach
I thought out loud...

A single grain of sand
It's just a worthless piece of sand
That sticks in your eye when the wind blows
And gets in your shoes between your toes.

It's just a worthless piece of sand
What use does it have?...
Then my Uncle Usugan said, "It embraces eggs and breaths life into them,
Do you see those little sand pipers feed between the small grains?
Small feed and other life are hidden beneath them."

It's just a worthless piece of sand,
Where does it come from?...
"You see those great mountains way over there," said my Uncle Usugan, "and those Hills and do you see those rocks? Still there is more to come that is unseen."

It's just a worthless piece of sand
It does not breath or lives?...
"Oh, but it supports it my son," said my Uncle Usugan, "it held up great trees from afar, and breathed water as the rain fell, and touched birds as they made their nest and lifts the grass you walk upon"

It's just a worthless piece of sand
How does it give life?...
Uncle Usugan reaffirmed, "Your ancestor's ancestors' blood has touched them, and so has many whose ancient blood traveled far from the other ends of great rivers, from people you never met and the blood of every living creature that swims in the water, and grows and crawls upon this land."

Then I looked at the sky, I heard an invisible voice say,
"My son, you are that single grain of sand."

Unknown Author

******************************************************************


Open Your Eyes


You try to conceal it
But you can't hide
Inevitable truth.
I see the hurt behind your eyes
The pain that lies
Beneath the tears that you suppress
I cry for you with all that I am.
You are so close.
Teetering on the very edge of happiness
And yet you do not see it.
Let me help you.
Remove the scabs that blind your vision.
Why do you turn away?
The hole in your heart is growing.
It is slowly devouring your spirit.
Your search for contentment
Is in vain.
You scrutinize the area underneath rocks
You examine the cracks in the boulders
And yet you refuse to see
What lies directly under your nose.
Stop your meaningless search
And give in to the truth.
Your so-called pleasure is the root of your pain.
Why can't you see it?
Surrender.
Succumb to the peace that awaits you.
Feel what might be.
See what I see.
Again and again and again you say that you don't
You say you don't
But you will.
How can you be so near and not see?

Unknown Author

*******************************************************************


Triumph
   

  Lonely in the heart,
This mourner, dressed in black
The eyes red and cried out
Tell stories of betrayal and hurt
With hands quivering,
The bouquet of wilting flowers is laid
Upon the shimmering yet pale
A cold yet heart-warming visage

Who would know the assasin is within
Dressed in black, eyes red and sleepless
Tell stories of greed and gain
With hands firm,
The weapon with dry blood is laid
Upon the screaming yet quiet
A crying yet smiling visage.

The utter irony
This penetrating contradiction
Me, She, Him, Her, They, them.
Oh, but why when it was meant to be
This greed, That pain?
Fate seems to be a lame metaphor
For such insanity to be bestowed
By one upon the other.

And when one day
This gold field blossoms
Yet again, with blood
In the roots of raging scorn
The swords of veangence
Will cease to spill blood
Of crimes committed by innocent criminals
But do you not see, their eyes are red
Like the mourner, Like the assasin.

Lurking in the dark are shadows somewhere
With woes lugubrious and hearts glum
Tired but eager to fight
Beware, the paradox of hatred and betrayal
Thou shalt reign the souls where love dwells no-more
And I, from above shall see
The mourner smile in ecstacy,
The assasin tormented in remorse,
For I was but a mere fatal casualty.
Of this game of love and hatred.

Irfan Ali Shah

********************************************************************


High Talk
   

  PROCESSIONS that lack high stilts have nothing that catches the eye.
What if my great-granddad had a pair that were twenty foot high,
And mine were but fifteen foot, no modern Stalks upon higher,
Some rogue of the world stole them to patch up a fence or a fire.
Because piebald ponies, led bears, caged lions, ake but poor shows,
Because children demand Daddy-long-legs upon This timber toes,
Because women in the upper storeys demand a face at the pane,
That patching old heels they may shriek, I take to chisel and plane.

Malachi Stilt-Jack am I, whatever I learned has run wild, From collar to collar, from stilt to stilt, from father to child.
All metaphor, Malachi, stilts and all. A barnacle goose
Far up in the stretches of night; night splits and the dawn breaks loose;
I, through the terrible novelty of light, stalk on, stalk on;
Those great sea-horses bare their teeth and laugh at the dawn.

William Butler Yeats


*******************************************************************


Thinking in the Sky at Night
   

  It was always strange, the trick of eyes
When staring off into the black,
Before the clouds had closed
Their down blanket over the sky,
Speckled like dirty mirrors,
And wonder, how near overhead?

Oft the points of light overhead
Wander away from the eyes,
To wonder what metaphor mirrors
All that is fathomless and black,
Up there in the great sky
When most faculties have closed.

Precisely the thoughts closed
As the airplanes flew overhead,
Blinking across the desolate sky.
And so taken were the eyes,
Thus tearing through the black
With a noise that could crack mirrors.

All of the questions it mirrored
And the doors never to be closed,
Turning black upon black
In vain hope that no idea goes overhead.
Reason is lost in the expanse of the eyes
Staring into the bold, dark sky.

And lost in the sea of the sky
That lays smooth as mirrors,
Against a stretched membrane in the eyes,
How the world is infinitely closed
And the stars always overhead
Accent the immense black.

Black
Sky
Overhead
Mirrors
Closed
Eyes.

The ambient black finds its mirrors
And the sky has so near in closed,
That we look overhead and see merely eyes.

Michael Veremans


********************************************************************


Metaphor Of Butterflies
   

  the metaphor of butterflies;
of metamorphosis,
provides for me an alibi
for life such as it is.

for here, in realms material;
existance incomplete,
compassion, less than filial:
since all must kill to eat;

i find a likeness, like as not,
that likely most ignore,
to caterpillar's only thought -:
of feed and feed some more!

it's nature to engorge itself
each day that passes by,
before transformed to something else:
a gorgeous butterfly!

so i believe, another world
beyond this one exists,
where donning powder wings unfurled
our metamorphosis

will leave behind on other page
these realms of greed and toil.
outgrowing former larval stage
and doffing mortal coil;

all life, it's energy more pure
nor ever more to die,
will sup on only nectar, sure
as does the butterfly.

moon batchelder

******************************************************************


Nature Study   

 
All the lizards are asleep--
perched pagodas with tiny triangular tiles,
each milky lid a steamed-up window.
Inside, the heart repeats itself like a sleepy gong,
summoning nothing to nothing.

In winter time, the zoo reverts to metaphor,
God's poetry of boredom:
the cobra knits her Fair-Isle skin,
rattlers titter over the same joke.
All of them endlessly finish spaghetti.
The python runs down like a spring,
and time stops on some ancient Sabbath.

Pythagorean bees are shut inside the hive,
which hymns and hums like Sunday chapel--
drowsy thoughts in a wrinkled brain.

The fire's gone out--
crocodiles lie like wet beams,
cross-hatched by flames that no one can remember.
Grasshoppers shiver, chafe their limbs
and try to keep warm,
crouching on their marks perpetually.
The African cricket is trussed like a cold chicken:
the sneeze of movement returns it to the same position,
in the same body. There is no change.

The rumple-headed lion has nowhere to go
and snoozes in his grimy combinations.
A chaise lounge with missing castors,
the walrus is stuck forever on his rock.
Sleepily, the seals play crib,
scoring on their upper lips.
The chimps kill fleas and time,
sewing nothing to nothing

Five o'clock--perhaps.
Vultures in their shabby Sunday suits
fidget with broken umbrellas,
while the ape beats his breast
and yodels out repentance.
Their feet are an awful dream of bunions--

but the buffalo's brazil nut bugle-horns
can never sound reveille.

Craig Raine

[Christo]

No one is saying anything.  It's my seventh sense, you know. It never fails.  Oh boy, it would seem that your boss "likes" you somehow to schedule you at night.  LOL    Think positively my handsome man, very soon you won't have to work for a few weeks.  Yay, I couldn't be happier for you.  Rest up and have a wonderful evening.
Tepe quieperopo mupuchopo, tepe apamopo, Chris

hey princes. good was gettin ready to kick there ass (sorry) yep he aint like me to much.  tough sh&t. to bad for him   ring ring fridy b4 graveyard?   22 days & countin whooo hoooooo I'm dancin'

good nite princes.  I <3 U


My Thoughts of You

How can you love someone
you have never seen
with a feeling
so passionate that it makes
your heart skip a beat at
the sound of her voice?

How can you feel her hands on you,
when she has never touched you?
How can you feel her lips kiss yours
when she has never whispered your
name in the night?

A love with such passion
that life could have never
known it in your wildest dreams.
Or if it could ever be possible
would you turn it away in fear that it could not be real for you had never known such a love.

For this love I would take the chance of heartbreak.
For I have known a lifetime of heartbreak
and heartbreak in itself is of a temporary nature if we allow it to be.

But to know just one moment in
my life with
such passion
such feeling
such want
such need.
I would give myself entirely
without regret
without sorrow
without remorse
to you
your love
your life.

To deny such a love would be the most fatal of mistakes.
To deny myself your love would be an injustice within itself to the name of love.

To have a love based on a spiritual not physical beginning could only result in the most special of loves.

The love you wait a lifetime for.
A love so strong that heaven nor earth could stop it from being.

A love for you and I,
A love for eternity.



I <3 U princes

[tinkerbell]

hey princes. good was gettin ready to kick there ass (sorry) yep he aint like me to much.  tough sh&t. to bad for him   ring ring fridy b4 graveyard?   22 days & countin whooo hoooooo I'm dancin'

good nite princes.  I <3 U

ROFL!    I wouldn't want you to kick anyone's posterior, Chris, but thank you for trying to defend me *giggles*  Yeah, sure, my turn for the ring ring   Have a nice evening. TQM Chris!

******************************************************************


If You Forget Me


I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.

But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine.

Pablo Neruda



*******************************************************************


Be Glad Your Nose is on Your Face


Be glad your nose is on your face,
not pasted on some other place,
for if it were where it is not,
you might dislike your nose a lot.

Imagine if your precious nose
were sandwiched in between your toes,
that clearly would not be a treat,
for you'd be forced to smell your feet.

Your nose would be a source of dread
were it attached atop your head,
it soon would drive you to despair,
forever tickled by your hair.

Within your ear, your nose would be
an absolute catastrophe,
for when you were obliged to sneeze,
your brain would rattle from the breeze.

Your nose, instead, through thick and thin,
remains between your eyes and chin,
not pasted on some other place--
be glad your nose is on your face!

Jack Prelutsky

*******************************************************************


My Papa's Waltz


The whiskey on your breath
Could make a small boy dizzy;
But I hung on like death:
Such waltzing was not easy.

We romped until the pans
Slid from the kitchen shelf;
My mother's countenance
Could not unfrown itself.

The hand that held my wrist
Was battered on one knuckle;
At every step you missed
My right ear scraped a buckle.

You beat time on my head
With a palm caked hard by dirt,
Then waltzed me off to bed
Still clinging to your shirt.


Theodore Roethke

[Christo]

hey princes. good was gettin ready to kick there ass (sorry) yep he aint like me to much.  tough sh&t. to bad for him   ring ring fridy b4 graveyard?   22 days & countin whooo hoooooo I'm dancin'

good nite princes.  I <3 U

ROFL!    I wouldn't want you to kick anyone's posterior, Chris, but thank you for trying to defend me *giggles*  Yeah, sure, my turn for the ring ring   Have a nice evening. TQM Chris!

  u know I'll fight 4 u babe right?   gotta sleep princes. tommorrow gona be a ->-bleeped-<-ty day   I <3 U   & I'm dancin babe whooohoooo   ring ring heh hehh

why I love U



I love you because your different, Yet you always remain the same,
I love you because you understand, That love isn't just a game,
I love it when you call me handsome, hon, dear,
I love to simply talk to you, Your sweet voice I love to hear,
I love to see you happy, I love your sweet smile,
I love that, No matter how bad you feel, You'll always go the extra mile,
I love your eyes, The way they seem to peer into my soul,
I love your hands, The way they touch my heart and make it feel whole,
I love you so much, That sometimes it even hurts,
And though I've had some bad times, My love for you still burns,
I love to watch you sleeping, All the little moves you make,
I love to be with you day or night, My heart is yours to take,
I love you today, I'll love you more tomorrow,
Love, To me isn't something that can be borrowed,
Love is forever, And mine is true,
Nothing can ever change the love I have for you,
I love you so much, Nothing in this world could make me want to go,
You've changed my life in so many ways, To you I will never say no,
I'll end this poem with three simple words, Which I'm sure you can guess,
I'll end this poem saying "I love you" how could I say any less?
I LOVE YOU!



I <3 U princes

[tinkerbell]

  u know I'll fight 4 u babe right?   gotta sleep princes. tommorrow gona be a ->-bleeped-<-ty day   I <3 U   & I'm dancin babe whooohoooo   ring ring heh hehh

I know.  Thank you, Chris.  It was a joy to hear you again.  Hope you have fun tonight.  Just think of your upcoming surgery and everything shoud be fine.  My tummy hurts    Yeah, for some reason, it has started to hurt.  Hopefully it's nothing.  Have a wonderful evening.  Tepe quieperopo, tepe apamopo, Chris.

******************************************************************



It's Dark in Here

I am writing these poems
From inside a lion,
And it's rather dark in here.
So please excuse the handwriting
Which may not be too clear.
But this afternoon by the lion's cage
I'm afraid I got too near.
And I'm writing these lines
From inside a lion,
And it's rather dark in here.

Shel Silverstein

*******************************************************************


Rain


I opened my eyes
And looked up at the rain,
And it dripped in my head
And flowed into my brain,
And all that I hear as I lie in my bed
Is the sli->-bleeped-<-y-slosh of the rain in my head.

I step very softly,
I walk very slow,
I can't do a handstand--
I might overflow,
So pardon the wild crazy thing I just said--
I'm just not the same since there's rain in my head.

Shel Silverstein

********************************************************************


Forgotten Language

Once I spoke the language of the flowers,
Once I understood each word the caterpillar said,
Once I smiled in secret at the gossip of the starlings,
And shared a conversation with the housefly
in my bed.
Once I heard and answered all the questions
of the crickets,
And joined the crying of each falling dying
flake of snow,
Once I spoke the language of the flowers. . . .
How did it go?
How did it go?

Shel Silverstein

******************************************************************


One Inch Tall


If you were only one inch tall, you'd ride a worm to school.
The teardrop of a crying ant would be your swimming pool.
A crumb of cake would be a feast
And last you seven days at least,
A flea would be a frightening beast
If you were one inch tall.

If you were only one inch tall, you'd walk beneath the door,
And it would take about a month to get down to the store.
A bit of fluff would be your bed,
You'd swing upon a spider's thread,
And wear a thimble on your head
If you were one inch tall.

You'd surf across the kitchen sink upon a stick of gum.
You couldn't hug your mama, you'd just have to hug her thumb.
You'd run from people's feet in fright,
To move a pen would take all night,
(This poem took fourteen years to write--
'Cause I'm just one inch tall).

Shel Silverstein

[Christo]

  u know I'll fight 4 u babe right?   gotta sleep princes. tommorrow gona be a ->-bleeped-<-ty day   I <3 U   & I'm dancin babe whooohoooo   ring ring heh hehh

I know.  Thank you, Chris.  It was a joy to hear you again.  Hope you have fun tonight.  Just think of your upcoming surgery and everything shoud be fine.  My tummy hurts    Yeah, for some reason, it has started to hurt.  Hopefully it's nothing.  Have a wonderful evening.  Tepe quieperopo, tepe apamopo, Chris.

aww u gotta take somethin' 4 da pain princes   I'm dancin cos Igot 2 talk 2 u again.   whooo hoooo 20 days & countin babe...ha-ha

I <3 U princes


the girl I love


Days goes by, my love for her grows.

Remembering the events I was with her, so unforgetful.

Her love was so intense hard to forget plus her beauty I would say.

Ripping the petals of rose one by and thinking "she loves me"- "She loves me not when sitting in the dark room.

Why can't I forget her? Why does she still go through my mind? They're no answer I can find, when I walk the path of my heart.

I just wish she was still mine, I would've held her in my arms until the world ends.

I would never let go of her once she embraces me and my heart.

Who is she that I always talk about?

NEVER TO FORGET

SHE'S MY LOVE of Day and NIGHT.




Love U

Every day I think of U
And I hope U think of me to
I'm sad, because we are far apart
but I want U to see
you're the only one for me
I know we shouldn't be apart
so i keep you in my heart
Every-night
I wish I was holding you tight
I'm just writing this poem to u
To show U how much I love U.



why do I love a girl like U

I've often thought of the question you've asked me.
Why do I love you? Here goes sweetie.
It's the beauty of your smile; it's everything that you do.
For I see happiness when I look at you.The way you dance, your silly wink,
The way you laugh, or simply how you blink.
The love I feel when you talk to me.
How you make me feel, how you open up my heart.
All the hopes that you bring right from the start.
I love you baby in each and every way.
How you lift me up, how you gave me flight,
Forever is what I see when I look into your eyes.
My heart beats to a new rhythm, a rhythm of love.
All because of you my angel sent from above.
You're my ray of light on those dark, gloomy days.
You are the answer to all of my prayers.
I can continue with my reasons, my list is endless.
For I love you more and more as each day progresses.
So why do I love you? Let me tell you why.
Because you're my hopes, my dreams, my love my life.

I <3 U  

[tinkerbell]

aww u gotta take somethin' 4 da pain princes   I'm dancin cos Igot 2 talk 2 u again.   whooo hoooo 20 days & countin babe...ha-ha

I <3 U princes

I'm okay.  Apparentlly it was something that I had eaten earlier, so I'm glad it was nothing to be concerned about.  How was your Saturday?  It is depressing how fast the weekend goes, isn't it?  Have a great evening.  Tepe quieperopo mupuchopo, tepe apamopo Chris.

*******************************************************************


Fragmentary Blue

 
Why make so much of fragmentary blue
In here and there a bird, or butterfly,
Or flower, or wearing-stone, or open eye,
When heaven presents in sheets the solid hue?

Since earth is earth, perhaps, not heaven (as yet)--
Though some savants make earth include the sky;
And blue so far above us comes so high,
It only gives our wish for blue a whet.


Robert Frost


********************************************************************



Blue-Butterfly Day

 
It is blue-butterfly day here in spring,
And with these sky-flakes down in flurry on flurry
There is more unmixed color on the wing
Than flowers will show for days unless they hurry.

But these are flowers that fly and all but sing:
And now from having ridden out desire
They lie closed over in the wind and cling
Where wheels have freshly sliced the April mire.

Robert Frost


*******************************************************************


Spring Pools

 
These pools that, though in forests, still reflect
The total sky almost without defect,
And like the flowers beside them, chill and shiver,
Will like the flowers beside them soon be gone,
And yet not out by any brook or river,
But up by roots to bring dark foliage on.

The trees that have it in their pent-up buds
To darken nature and be summer woods --
Let them think twice before they use their powers
To blot out and drink up and sweep away
These flowery waters and these watery flowers
From snow that melted only yesterday

Robert Frost


*******************************************************************


The Witch of Coos

 
I staid the night for shelter at a farm
Behind the mountains, with a mother and son,
Two old-believers. They did all the talking.

MOTHER Folks think a witch who has familiar spirits
She could call up to pass a winter evening,
But won't, should be burned at the stake or something.
Summoning spirits isn't 'Button, button,
Who's got the button,' I would have them know.

SON: Mother can make a common table rear
And kick with two legs like an army mule.

MOTHER: And when I've done it, what good have I
done?
Rather than tip a table for you, let me
Tell you what Ralle the Sioux Control once told me.
He said the dead had souls, but when I asked him
How could that be -- I thought the dead were souls,
He broke my trance. Don't that make you suspicious
That there's something the dead are keeping back?
Yes, there's something the dead are keeping back.

SON: You wouldn't want to tell him what we have
Up attic, mother?

MOTHER: Bones -- a skeleton.

SON: But the headboard of mother's bed is pushed
Against the' attic door: the door is nailed.
It's harmless. Mother hears it in the night
Halting perplexed behind the barrier
Of door and headboard. Where it wants to get
Is back into the cellar where it came from.

MOTHER: We'll never let them, will we, son! We'll
never !

SON: It left the cellar forty years ago
And carried itself like a pile of dishes
Up one flight from the cellar to the kitchen,
Another from the kitchen to the bedroom,
Another from the bedroom to the attic,
Right past both father and mother, and neither stopped
it.
Father had gone upstairs; mother was downstairs.
I was a baby: I don't know where I was.

MOTHER: The only fault my husband found with me --
I went to sleep before I went to bed,
Especially in winter when the bed
Might just as well be ice and the clothes snow.
The night the bones came up the cellar-stairs
Toffile had gone to bed alone and left me,
But left an open door to cool the room off
So as to sort of turn me out of it.
I was just coming to myself enough
To wonder where the cold was coming from,
When I heard Toffile upstairs in the bedroom
And thought I heard him downstairs in the cellar.
The board we had laid down to walk dry-shod on
When there was water in the cellar in spring
Struck the hard cellar bottom. And then someone
Began the stairs, two footsteps for each step,
The way a man with one leg and a crutch,
Or a little child, comes up. It wasn't Toffile:
It wasn't anyone who could be there.
The bulkhead double-doors were double-locked
And swollen tight and buried under snow.
The cellar windows were banked up with sawdust
And swollen tight and buried under snow.
It was the bones. I knew them -- and good reason.
My first impulse was to get to the knob
And hold the door. But the bones didn't try
The door; they halted helpless on the landing,
Waiting for things to happen in their favour.'
The faintest restless rustling ran all through them.
I never could have done the thing I did
If the wish hadn't been too strong in me
To see how they were mounted for this walk.
I had a vision of them put together
Not like a man, but like a chandelier.
So suddenly I flung the door wide on him.
A moment he stood balancing with emotion,
And all but lost himself. (A tongue of fire
Flashed out and licked along his upper teeth.
Smoke rolled inside the sockets of his eyes.)
Then he came at me with one hand outstretched,
The way he did in life once; but this time
I struck the hand off brittle on the floor,
And fell back from him on the floor myself.
The finger-pieces slid in all directions.
(Where did I see one of those pieces lately?
Hand me my button-box- it must be there.)
I sat up on the floor and shouted, 'Toffile,
It's coming up to you.' It had its choice
Of the door to the cellar or the hall.
It took the hall door for the novelty,
And set off briskly for so slow a thing,
Stillgoing every which way in the joints, though,
So that it looked like lightning or a scribble,
>From the slap I had just now given its hand.
I listened till it almost climbed the stairs
>From the hall to the only finished bedroom,
Before I got up to do anything;
Then ran and shouted, 'Shut the bedroom door,
Toffile, for my sake!' 'Company?' he said,
'Don't make me get up; I'm too warm in bed.'
So lying forward weakly on the handrail
I pushed myself upstairs, and in the light
(The kitchen had been dark) I had to own
I could see nothing. 'Toffile, I don't see it.
It's with us in the room though. It's the bones.'
'What bones?' 'The cellar bones- out of the grave.'
That made him throw his bare legs out of bed
And sit up by me and take hold of me.
I wanted to put out the light and see
If I could see it, or else mow the room,
With our arms at the level of our knees,
And bring the chalk-pile down. 'I'll tell you what-
It's looking for another door to try.
The uncommonly deep snow has made him think
Of his old song, The Wild Colonial Boy,
He always used to sing along the tote-road.
He's after an open door to get out-doors.
Let's trap him with an open door up attic.'
Toffile agreed to that, and sure enough,
Almost the moment he was given an opening,
The steps began to climb the attic stairs.
I heard them. Toffile didn't seem to hear them.
'Quick !' I slammed to the door and held the knob.
'Toffile, get nails.' I made him nail the door shut,
And push the headboard of the bed against it.
Then we asked was there anything
Up attic that we'd ever want again.
The attic was less to us than the cellar.
If the bones liked the attic, let them have it.
Let them stay in the attic. When they sometimes
Come down the stairs at night and stand perplexed
Behind the door and headboard of the bed,
Brushing their chalky skull with chalky fingers,
With sounds like the dry rattling of a shutter,
That's what I sit up in the dark to say-
To no one any more since Toffile died.
2o3 Let them stay in the attic since they went there.
I promised Toffile to be cruel to them
For helping them be cruel once to him.

SON: We think they had a grave down in the cellar.

MOTHER: We know they had a grave down in the cellar.

SON: We never could find out whose bones they were.

MOTHER: Yes, we could too, son. Tell the truth for once.
They were a man's his father killed for me.
I mean a man he killed instead of me.
The least I could do was to help dig their grave.
We were about it one night in the cellar.
Son knows the story: but 'twas not for him
To tell the truth, suppose the time had come.
Son looks surprised to see me end a lie
We'd kept all these years between ourselves
So as to have it ready for outsiders.
But to-night I don't care enough to lie-
I don't remember why I ever cared.
Toffile, if he were here, I don't believe
Could tell you why he ever cared himself-

She hadn't found the finger-bone she wanted
Among the buttons poured out in her lap.
I verified the name next morning: Toffile.
The rural letter-box said Toffile Lajway.

Robert Frost


********************************************************************


Waiting

What things for dream there are when specter-like,
Moving amond tall haycocks lightly piled,
I enter alone upon the stubbled filed,
From which the laborers' voices late have died,
And in the antiphony of afterglow
And rising full moon, sit me down
Upon the full moon's side of the first haycock
And lose myself amid so many alike.

I dream upon the opposing lights of the hour,
Preventing shadow until the moon prevail;
I dream upon the nighthawks peopling heaven,
Or plunging headlong with fierce twang afar;
And on the bat's mute antics, who would seem
Dimly to have made out my secret place,
Only to lose it when he pirouettes,
On the last swallow's sweep; and on the rasp
In the abyss of odor and rustle at my back,
That, silenced by my advent, finds once more,
After an interval, his instrument,
And tries once--twice--and thrice if I be there;
And on the worn book of old-golden song
I brought not here to read, it seems, but hold
And freshen in this air of withering sweetness;
But on the memor of one absent, most,
For whom these lines when they shall greet her eye.

Robert Frost

********************************************************************

Two Look at Two
 
Love and forgetting might have carried them
A little further up the mountain side
With night so near, but not much further up.
They must have halted soon in any case
With thoughts of a path back, how rough it was
With rock and washout, and unsafe in darkness;
When they were halted by a tumbled wall
With barbed-wire binding. They stood facing this,
Spending what onward impulse they still had
In One last look the way they must not go,
On up the failing path, where, if a stone
Or earthslide moved at night, it moved itself;
No footstep moved it. 'This is all,' they sighed,
Good-night to woods.' But not so; there was more.
A doe from round a spruce stood looking at them
Across the wall, as near the wall as they.
She saw them in their field, they her in hers.
The difficulty of seeing what stood still,
Like some up-ended boulder split in two,
Was in her clouded eyes; they saw no fear there.
She seemed to think that two thus they were safe.
Then, as if they were something that, though strange,
She could not trouble her mind with too long,
She sighed and passed unscared along the wall.
'This, then, is all. What more is there to ask?'
But no, not yet. A snort to bid them wait.
A buck from round the spruce stood looking at them
Across the wall as near the wall as they.
This was an antlered buck of lusty nostril,
Not the same doe come back into her place.
He viewed them quizzically with jerks of head,
As if to ask, 'Why don't you make some motion?
Or give some sign of life? Because you can't.
I doubt if you're as living as you look."
Thus till he had them almost feeling dared
To stretch a proffering hand -- and a spell-breaking.
Then he too passed unscared along the wall.
Two had seen two, whichever side you spoke from.
'This must be all.' It was all. Still they stood,
A great wave from it going over them,
As if the earth in one unlooked-for favour
Had made them certain earth returned their love.

Robert Frost