Next sound
Miss tick
Teaching you through like adu
Eat the line
Crawl up the vine
Inside your water, no wine
Code and color penal
Cashing under the welfare
Biggest duty push
He haw hackers purse strings
And dockers
Superfly newspapers
Wrapped around certificates like knockers
Your still here, hear with your eyes
Get it out of your mouth
Put publicity on silent
Give me 5 to 10 years no profit
Let it all fall, burn in to the problems
Noway y’all is progressive
Jazz aint today
Last night novels can’t eat eggs
Leader need an audience?
When wasn’t you borin?
Flapping aunt jackson
Face some sit down time
For once become not obvious
Because i know you think
But you respond to the dropper
Knew medication like diapers
Unqualified speakers too magnet
Flipping sausage like complaints
Deaf and defended
Clerically too many missing
Number one number, how many died
While you walk, no guard
Open and jawing
Virid Bard has prayed for recollection.
When sacred springtime and summer jigs cease,
and bright, brave bones shall lose their grace and grease,
those things of yore may call his attention.
Stands petitioning invisible hands
against old-age psychoses that pick off brains,
as buzzards at brunch on carrion plains.
Time envelops men in quickening sands.
He asks that he should know his face, yours too;
Find the fullness of first love between looks.
He vows his pen shall praise you in books
when your black magic head turns silver-blue.
The Gun
On the wall above the fire place,
Grandpa’s rifle still sits.
I take it down now and then to clean,
but put it back every time.
That is where it belongs.
Grandpa shot deer and elk,
He even shot a bear.
But, that was not entirely on purpose.
The city guy was very happy…
to be alive.
No more explanation,
needs to be written,
on that account.
Grandma could out shoot him,
Twice as far, and three times on
Sunday afternoon.
But she did not brag.
She often used her own 22 at the window
where she did the dishes…
to pick off dinner from her post,
ever in the kitchen…
cooking.
This was life, at my grandparent’s home.
We were never afraid.
My Dearest Bertha baboon
I’ve recently joined your baboon troop
and Bertha you’re the star of the group
I’ve watched you swinging in the trees
Your agility brings me to my knees
You sit by my side and pick off my lice
we share those nits; oh they taste so nice!
‘The Funky Gibbon’ is my favourite song
I taught you the words, now you sing along!
There’s been no monkey business, although I’ve tried
But my attraction for you cannot be denied
My desire for you I cannot let pass …
I’m captivated by your huge red ass!
Its red colour means you’re due for ovulation
Lets get it on and increase the baboon population!
Love letter Contest
Sponsored by Viv Wigley
Contest rules - "A love letter, but NOT from a human or to a human. It must be from any other species, either to a member of the same species or maybe a different one"
10-30-17
Imagine the sound of bright buzzing bees,
And ripe juicy apples planted on trees.
Imagine the sight of the birds that fly,
Or the airplanes that soar through the sky.
Imagine the fish that swim through the ocean,
And the brown, fuzzy squirrels that cause a commotion.
Imagine the green of the trees and the grass,
Or the adorable little puppies that yelp as you pass.
Imagine the sound of a rushing waterfall,
And the curious monkey that play with a ball.
Imagine the sound of a babies laughter.
Cant you feel the rush of happiness after?
Now imagine life with no buzzing of bees.
No ripe juicy apples to pick off of trees.
Now listen here kid, hear me out straight.
These are the things we don't appreciate.
We take them for granted. Pretty things indeed,
For one day theyll be gone, yet nobody will see.
So notice the little things everyday.
Maybe you'll remember them once they fade away.
...
Imagine a world with no buzzing of bees.
Imagine being surrounded by dead old trees.
Now imagine leaving that world behind,
just stop and smell the roses every once in a while.
BY: EMMA DUFFY
Winter chills air;
birds flock and feed from berries
before the famine
Sheep graze greedily;
Keen eyed buzzards pick off prey
nature's bleak beauty
When winter is done;
Birds will welcome spring and sing
for joy each new dawn
Lately I’ve been stuck in a daydream land.Wishing I could figure out a better way in this life’s plan. Because In July I will be turning 28- oh yeah I am getting older. Which makes me want to live a little slower, and put a hold on time.
So I can cherish each and every hour
So I can cherish each and every minute
So I can cherish each and every second
For just a little longer…
So I can re-visit blurry memories from the past and hold loved ones just a little stronger. Before having to say Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye, goodbye.But lately I been stuck in a day dream land running threw beaches of sand and fields of beautiful flowers and each and every peddle I pick off a flower,I just pray that every day ….
I can cherish each and every hour
I can cherish each and every minute
I can cherish each and every second…..
Without regrets live a little boulder knowing that each and every step I take
And every breath I take there is something to be thankful for…
So I cherish each and every hour…….
So I cherish each and every minute…..
So I cherish each and every second……
Is this true love
is she the one
i pick off these petals
from a flower as beautiful as her
asking myself a question
does she love me
or does she not
it was love at first sight
but will i pay a price
is she to perfect to be true
maybe, maybe not
with time will know
if our love will grow
and i will stay with her to the end and after