go wild
over chocolate
every time dad returns
from somewhere, bless black-seduction
icecreams!
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go wild
over chocolate
every time dad returns
from somewhere, bless black-seduction
icecreams!
(to be fair to all the posts)
be glad
now that our posts
bump over each other--
that there's company, but i still need
icecreams!!
Good morning symphony! Looks like we were after the same thing at the same time. haha
icecreams
puddings parfaits
delectable treats kiss
tickle our tastebuds with flavor
for more
Good afternoon and greetings from the far east ;) .
For more.
I'd die for more.
I ne'er can get enough
Of that chocolate topping. Bless the
Food-World!
Food-world
But not for all
Too many go without
Daily hunger and suffering
Sad truth
sad truth
hungers for more
listening to words speak
heart pounding telling all her thoughts
listen
listen
to a story
maybe you may believe—
my dog got wed to a lady skunk—
won't hunt...
http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l1...ies/Pupdog.gifhttp://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l1...tleStinker.gif
won't hunt
can't bunt, fall back
and pitch hit for those who
can't even get into the game
empty
empty
is the tank of
the car abandoned by
the side of the road, passengers
all gone
all gone
is what he said
as he lifted his plate
a chubby smile with four white teeth
gleaming
gleaming,
dreaming, scheming...
visions fleeing...repeat-
ing with me....keeping time in slow
motion.
motion
wraps around us,
a gossamer cloak so
fine we almost fail to see it
moving
moving
within stillness...
attention drawn to the
smallness within a landscape of
stark white.
stark white—
black, yellow, brown,
red, olive, tan, mixed—
not a painting, human nations,
skin tones…
skin tones
quietly merge
humanity's colours
blend together...the many joined
as one.
as one
we will become
mute with shock...entangled
in egotism we shall end
as one
as one
bound by passion
twined in a warmth, a love
where death will not hover over
our dreams.
Our dreams
are as real as
the effort we put to
creating them in our own lives.
Dream big.
Dream Big.
soul's opiate
in borderless musings;
as hummingbirds feed on nectar;
live life.
Live life
because when all
is said and done have you
thought seriously of what else
there is?
:lol: good point.
there is,
in me, something
that maneuvers deftly
around the obvious, at times,
I'm new.
I'm new
to this day as
it is new to me, and
hopefully we will enjoy each
other
other
places might suit
your fancy, but here is
where i want to spend all my days...
relaxed.
relaxed
now the working
day is done. Shoe-worn feet
rest on the sofa - boy, aren't they
smelly!
relaxed
along the edge
timidly seeking time
stepping from cloud to cloud weightless
searching
searching
amongst the leaves,
coloured fragments fallen,
autumn's gift to the earth, scattered
windward.
windward
goes the mind, while
the body is angled
hard against the wind pushing to
get where?
get where?
this dark evening
leads me to nowhere where
falling leaves would welcome warm, my
footsteps....
footsteps,
the sky is blue,
the sun still shines all day.
you will dry out for lack of rain—
vain man…
vain man
sees nothing but
the surface sheen. Blinded
by his own emptiness his soul
is lost
is lost
the end result...
traversing the barrens
of an aching heart, clutched in the
desert?
desert
calls out in dark,
storming through the wild night
is the cry of an owl hidden
somewhere
somewhere
there is a place
where light pierces through the
darkness of my soul. Someone hears
my cries.
my cries
bouncing off walls
a padded cell keeps me
from screaming my hatred at you
insane
insane,
come my white coats,
let me throw ink on those
starched lapels, you don't see my world,
poor things
poor things
the woman cooed,
how backwardly they live.
Come, let us save them; and so war
ensued
ensued
solutions neat...
brows furrowed in deep thought,
pencil ends chewed...calculations
correct.
correct—
this depends on
what your definition
of what the word "is" is—really!
poor fool
poor fool
simple minded
stopping to smell flowers
the bee stings the tip of his nose
that hurts
that hurts
yesterday haunts
all tomorrows to come
what else is there but to look back
caught hard