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Daily Archives: May 16, 2016

Marital Bliss is on Equal Ground

marriagexxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Tonight our world will ring a new bell
A notion we have intimately embraced
Tonight is the wealth of our predecessors
Everlasting faith and will to believe; to live
~
We are human
We are real
We stand tonight
We are surreal
~
In the lovely arms of equality
Life has been patiently moving forward
Suggesting who we are may be acknowledged
We are progressive in the eyes of the law
~
And you are my partner
And I am your lover
And now ours is forever
And we are together
~
The world will hold court today
We watch hands held together
At the strike of a twilight hour
In that first minute change is real
~
For even in our childhood when love
Seemed only generated by family
As we grew old and shed innocence
There arose a new confidence in love
~
Tested in our every walk of life
Tested by our friends and family
Tested by our will to understand
Tested and passed when love …
~
Watch close, we reference the human condition
Society has challenged itself to be the agent
Creates a new path that everyone in His eyes
Evolve with deeper, heartfelt, delicious love

Thom Amundsen
August 1st, 2013

 

THE MIST

mist

It rolls over the hills,
A mystic splendour to transform,
Like a mantle of gossamer beauty,
As the night gives way to the dawn.

It engulfs the spider’s web,
Glistening in the morning cold,
Jewels of exquisite beauty,
Bedecked with silver and gold.

It creeps along the greenery,
Then freezers in the night,
Jack Frost pays a visit,
To create a carpet of white.

It moves in ghostly silence,
To swallow everything around,
Like a phantom possessed,
I t visits without a sound.

Its one of natures many gifts,
That bedecks this world of ours,
She spins a web of beauty,
That covers the trees and flowers.

It creates a blanket of secrecy,
Of everything it has kissed,
Clings to Mother Nature,
That’s the toil of the mist.

Malcolm G Bradshaw

Escape – Promote Yourself

gunxxxxxxx
She watched her oppressor
Every move he made was important to her
As she planned her escape, his demise
Freedom, finally, from the emptiness in her eyes.
Drunk on lust and whiskey, he attacked
She bore the pain and performed the unthinkable acts.
No longer afraid,
She attacked him as he stumbled away.
His anger erupted, the vicious swings came
Without fear, she picks up his gun – takes aim
Bullets pierced the night and his blood rained.
He was dead in an instant,
But she paused only to wipe off her fingerprints.
She walked away from that place
Renewed hope, and for the first time in years, a smile on her face.

Thank you for this opportunity. For the last few years, all of my poems have been written, and put on my hard-drive, never to be seen by anyone but me. I realize now, that although protecting myself from critique, I was also violating the basics of being a writer – we write for ourselves, but we also write for others.

Sincerely,
Trysh L Thompson

Answer machines are my only friends


 

I pick up the phone

I dial a number; unimportant

I talk to myself and wait for the tone

No one is ever in

Do I want them to be – I don’t know?

I pray they answer, but they never do

It’s always the same whenever I call

I could be in hospital after a fall

I could be younger with a broken heart

In need of advice from the man at the mini-mart

But I’m not – I’m old

I sit at bus queues and talk of the past

About the cost of today and the life – how fast

I can only afford the single phone

I have no family

The answer machines are my only friends

I’m just old, tired…and mostly alone

By Tom Dearden 

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