counting the minutes / way past heartaches / and bedtime
Truth
One swig of Rip Van Winkle’s draught, / from this tankard brimmed with bitter brew / I crave, that I might sleep away the years, / awaken af…
I’ve often wondered what Rip Van Winkle must have experienced, whether after a disorienting awakening he felt free finally to be himself. Based very loosely on the Washington Irving story, “Rip Van Winkle: a Posthumous Writing of Diedrich Knickerbocker” which some analysts say is about a man oblivious to the changing social world around him. As you can see, I’ve taken a slightly more personal approach.
ripped and torn / on a dead end / alone with loneliness / there were no friends / wistful were his eyes / life was not always kind / somehow so…
Once on the bottom floor I looked to my right, and saw out of my front doors, a strange dog. Sitting upon my porch, resting her weary hea…
This is about a Dog that i lost in March Of 2007. Please read the story. Thank you for your time! Please leave me a comment, and feel free to share your stories about your animals with me. ALSO! Please visit Mlgkats Home Page AT http://www.redbubble.com/people/mlgkats Please visit my other work :) -Cheyenne
I feel the cold clumps / of grave dirt stick to my trembling hand / too scared to drop it gently / on your still body / I pause / and the worl…
I rescued my boy almost ten years ago from certain death. He grew to a massive 10 kilos and was bigger than your average size terrier. He gave me ten years of unconditional warm furry love for which I am so very very grateful. I love him. I love him. I will always love him. And Imiss him so much, my heart is breaking…
Rip, Burn and Sink
a poem for the Gaia competition
The tree stood still amongst this scene
Visiting the place where Jasmin died. An inspirational place, a quiet beauty spot, hard to find with very few visitors. I am at the beginning of a long journey. A journey of forgiveness and understanding. A sojourn which I must undertake to be able to love and live again. Jasmin Cai Neville 1989-1997 rest in peace my beautiful angel. Jasmine Neville my daughter and Charlea Fox one of her school friends drowned in the River Wharfe at a beauty spot near Arthington, West Yorkshire UK in 1997 . I will continue to change her face throughout my life. / The canvas stays the same the memories images and emotions forever alter. This represents my journey, her ever changing face reflected through many different memories and painful emotions. Just trying to keep her memory alive. / The hope is one day to finish her portrait to help me finaly accept a kind of peace within myself. More images of this work in progress are contained in my port folio on the profile page.
As we lay in bed / Our legs wrapped like vines / I still couldn’t help but wonder / Were you truly mine / There was something in yo…
The tick-tock of the clock / Weep? / Cry? / Live? / Die?
I wrote this when i was half asleep and in a very odd mood. If you like it you like it, if you dont then its no skin off of my back :D.Enjoy
I just want to write a bit about a French artist who lived here in Mt Magnet and left a large hole in my life here ,I only met him this y…
Failure of everything significance holds / Fear of anything epic love could do / Never wanting to ever be so bold / What could a little noth…
Take me away / Into the night / Were your face is etched in a light I can’t see, / And your hands pass through my skin / Like sweat Take m…
An edited version of a little poem/song that I wrote recently. xx / s-a
Sitting in a timeless blur, / I shall tell the tales of the blood around me / The blood I love and the blood I hate, / The blood that is pu…
This is the first poem from my book, “Life: The Rollercoaster to R.I.P.” / Every Wednesday this year I will be releasing a new poem from the book.
I write better in the night; / My mind is clear with words in sight / Ironic is this lack of light; / I can reach a new poetic height, / At l…
“Life: The Rollercoaster to R.I.P.” By: Justin Martin Spicer © 2008/2009
Tick, tock, tick, tock / Goes the clock on the stucco walls of the coffee shop / Click, clack, click, clack / As I type another tale on my l…
“Life: The Rollercoaster to R.I.P.” By: Justin Martin Spicer © 2008/2009
Deepest passion, see me through / For this wretched loneliness clouds my view. / Even with success and commendations, / My soul still fills …
“Life: The Rollercoaster to R.I.P.” By: Justin Martin Spicer © 2008/2009
It’s no surprise when human beings end up where they were foreseen / Trash in the bin and debris in the gutter
“Life: The Rollercoaster to R.I.P.” By: Justin Martin Spicer © 2008/2009
And one day you will see- / See that I could be- / Be more than what is seen- / Seen by your judgmental eyes- / Eyes that burn holes - / Holes…
“Life: The Rollercoaster to R.I.P.” By: Justin Martin Spicer © 2008/2009
Hiding in the dark all day / Soul begins to run away.
“Life: The Rollercoaster to R.I.P.” By: Justin Martin Spicer © 2008/2009
Taking the good with bad, / The joyful times with the sad, / Some of you may not see / That all of this is meant to be.
“Life: The Rollercoaster to R.I.P.” By: Justin Martin Spicer © 2008/2009
My interest fades in what is taught; / I drift away in deep thought. / Thinking about what will happen years from now: / Who, what, where, a…
“Life: The Rollercoaster to R.I.P.” By: Justin Martin Spicer © 2008/2009
Thinking how bored you are, / Wishing your death was not so far.
“Life: The Rollercoaster to R.I.P.” By: Justin Martin Spicer © 2008/2009
Some lay awake / From stress they can not shake. / Others may have dreams, / More good than bad or so it seems.
Life: The Rollercoaster to R.I.P. By: Justin Martin Spicer © 2008/2009
Both are ripping, people dipping, / everybody’s mouths are lipping. . .
Husband and wife strife.
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