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Problem Solvers"Time! More Time!" the teachers cry
As six by ten seconds fly by
"I started in the afternoon
How did it get this late, so soon?"
"Why!? Why!?" principals sigh
As two in three students fall shy
"I know we did, all that we could
Why is it not being understood?"
"How!? How!?" the district asks
Can we solve for [tool] in [task]?
"What can we use across the map
That gets our grades up to the cap?"
"Whoa! Whoa!" the gurus say
Let's look at this a different way
"A problem underlies these facts
and do the math"
The Road to Inner PeaceAlong the road to inner peace
I found a truth: I was amiss
Lost in a sea of mental bliss
I thought I knew...
I knew not this.
That to be weak is to be strong
That we all need to feel we belong
That hearts are made to be exposed
And secrets must not stay untold
For in this life, we will have fears
And we might feel, that no one cares
But if we hide our heartfelt tears
Then when we cry...
Well, no one hears.
The WurmThe Arena...
It was the one place where the words of a child would be respected as that of an adult: where age didn’t matter, and your decisions were your own.
Nothing more than an open space in the middle of the market square, it had always had a name too grand for its appearance. But it was where battles were fought, debts were paid. and grievances settled - with the price of blood.
Which made it the one place… the only place… where he could get his revenge.
Now as he stood amongst the crowd, watching the final match before his own, plotting and visualizing the many ways he was going to butcher the bastard… a strange calm settled over his mind.
He took a step forward, making his way through the throng of people surrounding the ring...
His eyes intently focused on the goal before him, he pushed aside those who stood in his path, and squeezed between others unaware of his wrath.
Writer's BlockI had a dream of writer's block
A dream in which my mind was stuck
On words like verbs, and terms like f*ck
And how my head deserved a knock
And in this dream I was quite vexed
I was so mad I was perplexed
I couldn't think of what came next
Nor how to finish up my text
I begged my words to understand
I begged that they come on demand
I couldn't bear a pen so still
That couldn't move by my sheer will
Yet on deaf ears befell my pleas
And this fact brought me to my knees
So I left a prayer on the breeze
I pray to write with ease."
I Met Peace OnceI met peace once on an afternoon stroll
"Walking too slowly" - my eyes said with a roll
And with peace was contentment, who said I looked old
The gray hairs on my head, were a sign he'd been told
So I paused for a bit, to give a piece of my mind
And happiness caught up - she'd been lagging behind
"I would love to chat, but I have no time"
I said in a rush, before in she could chime
And off I went, well on my way
Lest not another bugger, ruin my day
I was here to lose weight, not to chat or to play
And those three looked fit, they would lead me astray
So I picked up my pace, till my muscles did burn
But all that I got, was a cramp in return
And as I sat panting, anger asked me why
worry came to cry, and shame made me lie
While peace, contentment, and happiness...
Slowly passed on by.
Alter EgoAlter Ego
Scared but helpless
Bound and gagged
Within you divided
Bottled and stopped
Anchor to my heel
This need to conceal
The way that you feel
If you put up a fight
If your burden was light
Perhaps we would not find ourselves here...
Dear FinchI have waited quite a while
To send these words to you
Though in my mind, it always was
A thing I ought to do.
For once upon a time you filled
My every night with wonder
And even still I miss those nights
Those dazzling nights of yonder
Perhaps a cat so full of angst
Had no business with the sky
Perhaps a magic rainbow finch
Must spread its wings and fly
So fly, fly! To greater heights
I know you couldn't remain
I only ask that now and then
You fly by me, again.
The Land of Milk and HoneyIn the land of milk and honey
The natives act real funny
The leaders steal their money
To invest it in poverty
The rich keep getting richer
The poor keep getting poorer
The wise think not of better
The dumb all rise to power
In the land of milk and honey
They practice democracy
For the people, ostensibly
To decide to live in misery
The government - is in shambles
The senate - how they babble!
Education - mere preamble...
As for NEPA - just light a candle
For in the land of milk and honey
ALL ARE DRUNK!
A tale eternally wroteWhen remembrance of sin doth torment my soul
The burden of guilt like atlas’ bane
When the darkness encloses and swallows me whole
The joy of salvation turned from pride into shame
I incline my ear, through the noisiness strain
To recite again a tale eternally wrote
Yes, I long to hear the voice of my Father say
Have I not loved you Jacob? Was not Esau smote?
For before thou wast born, before the first word
I set My love on My enemy
Indeed before there was time, before the whole world
I knewest, predestined and justified thee
So what canst thou sin, which daily ensnares
Do to undermine the Judge’s final adjourn?
When on the cross, thou sin was stripped bare
Put to death, cancelled, forever demurred
Thinkest thou any sin was o’erlooked
When in foresight I placed thy burden on atonement’s cross?
All your days were written in My book
Long afore you could ponder the fear of salvation’s loss
The Lord has spoken, now who can contend?
Though the devil may recite
Intuitions GraspBrought down to my knees
in the middle of the store
jarring hard against cold cement
overwhelmed once again
by intuition’s grasp
A miasmic shroud descends
immersing with horrific roar
flooding through my mind
reflecting swirling madness
of massive dark watery waves
as I with kaleidoscopic senses
drawn by their mass despair
see through too many eyes
scream through too many mouths
and drown with thousands
Yet I am still aware of me
as my family pulls me up and out
and I anchor fast onto them
to keep myself from being drowned
by intuition’s grasp
I see the cycle start again
as un-shattered spirits rise
from drowned broken bodies
while old souls quickly merge
with a blissful beckoning light
and young souls in confusion
try to hold on to this life
of the lost who can perceive, me
I show the way up and out
Then shrinking back to fit inside
of my limited human sense of being
I am grateful to be aware of
God and my spirituality
because of intuition’s grasp
V. L. Croasdell
All Things Hurt and BrokenAll things hurt and broken
All creatures weak and small
All things foul and foolish
The Lord God made them all
Each desperate thief that steals
Each lonely child that cries
He made their brandished arms
He made their pleading eyes
All things hurt…
The rich man without pity
The poor man at his gate
God made them in his image
And both in equal state
All things hurt…
The strip-mined barren mountain
The river running dry
The sunset and the morning
Behind polluted sky
All things hurt…
The bare trees on the pavement
The alleys where we play
The sirens on the sidewalk
We gather every day
All things hurt…
He gave us eyes to see them,
And lips that we might tell,
How great is God Almighty,
And creation that we felled.
All things hurt…
Trojas WanderliedSternenloser Himmel, die Nacht trägt Trauer, stumm,
Was ist geschehen, Gestirne, sagt, was treibt euch um?
Habt ihr denn nicht gesehen - die Zeit des Kampfes ist vorbei,
Doch weh, oh weh, den kommenden, die gold'ne Stadt entzwei.
Sie kamen an, so heißt es ja, bei Nacht im Fackelschein,
Durch List und Tücke schlichen sie in Troja sich hinein.
Und nicht ein Kind, und keine Frau, hat den Morgen erlebt,
Seid ihr, Himmelsgöttern gleich, mit uns schmerzvoll erbebt?
Seht auch ihr die letzten Tage, die der Menschheit grauen,
Oder ist's ein neues Zeitalter, wenn wir uns recht noch trauen?
Doch jeder Held ist müd' heut' Nacht, geschafft oder gefallen,
Wer soll das Volk beschützen, wenn die neuen Übel wallen?
Oh sternenloser Himmel, oh Nacht, du trauerst stumm,
Doch sag uns doch, nur irgendwie, wann ist das Dunkel um?
Wir brauchen Licht, wir leben so, wir Menschen fürchten uns,
Denn in den dunklen Stunden gar, verlässt uns selbst die Kunst.
Und kein F&
power of a wishDeep in my pocket
I keep one wish
Like a dear friend
It comforts me
I hold it in the morning
Then I’m not lonely
And bravely will
Weather any adversity
Summon great strength
In the presence of faith
And though the storms
May be troubling
I’ll stand my ground
Secure and clear
With wish in hand
Hope is near
Last Reign of the Summer KingThe reign of the Summer King fades, as sun sets on day
soon will be the time to release his spirit, his bones born away,
winter draws near now is the time to set the bonfires alight
watch the orange-yellow glow climb into the cold eternal night,
with it the Old Stag has withered and turns gray.
Buried deep beneath the Earth his body will decay,
women gather round, flowers woven in their hair, to dance and sway,
time to harvest the crops and prepare for winter's plight,
The ritual knife is blessed, ready to follow the ancient way,
with the blood of the Summer King for our good fortune we pay,
with hope our sacrifice will lesson winter's might,
drink the last of summer's warm wine, still your heart against fright,
on this final hour we come together and to the Goddess pray,
Lined With GoldWalking through the dreams of old,
To stop where the path grows cold.
Time to finish and be bold,
And to line the dreams with gold.
Ones that once faded to gray,
Give me reason not to stray.
A love that remains to stay,
From night till the light of day.
New dream in the heart to grow,
To out pour and over flow.
Causing the whole heart to glow,
And the time to become slow.
The sky fills with many hues,
Reflecting all the good news.
With many options to choose,
And nothing that's left to loose.
Moving PainsHonestly, I’d given up – given up on everything –
I tired of calling with no response – I wearied of every singing
Bastard telling me to feel what couldn’t be felt.
I’d given up – written it all off as a hand wrongly dealt
And moved on with my life without thought of what I was offering.
I’d given up – but you had not –
You kept coming at me with all that you fought
So hard to achieve and so hard to maintain –
You kept coming back with this silly refrain:
I loved you from your first greeting breath
And I will love you till your final resting death.
I loved you at your best and your worst
And I will love you at the last as the first.
But what love is evergreen – what love never fades –
When the bluff is called – when you pull off the shades
That hide your eyes that swell with tears –
When you’re forced to say it for all to hear –
What can you say but admit that these were empty charades
Until He ComesThe second coming
Is not a warning
To dwell upon
Until His coming
Shall we be waiting?
Our Lord's return!?
Our task is given!
It has been written!
We have a mission!
That must be done!
To shine our light
Make the world bright
Present this sight
As his welcome
For when Christ cometh
Though no man knoweth
In faith we soweth
We faithful ones
Think not of when
Think not of where
We must prepare
Until He comes
The TrundlerThe waste land behind the fire station is always silent. No birds sing there, and even the wild rabbits and feral cats avoid it. Weedy wildflowers nod their seasonal heads in the breeze. Lying fallow in the midst of housing developments, shopping malls, the new movie theater — the vacant lot stands out like a knife wound on a woman’s placid face, shocking, brazen, ugly.
It is always empty. Except for one thing: a ragged heap of old trash, all nasty black tar paper and vicious snarls of rusted wire, car parts and broken glass and other junkyard jetsam. The embodiment of injury waiting to happen, an invitation to a tetanus shot... the city never hauled it away. No one ever wants anywhere near it; it radiates an eerie sense of calculating watchfulness.
And at night, it wanders.
When darkness falls, and the last cars heading into the hives of tract housing stop illuminating the asphalt with moving-picture shadows, it… unfolds. Bitter, broken tangles, grotesquely mov
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More