Time has the power / Of turning things sour / I have opinions / That you chew and devour While you set them ablaze / I sit back amazed / Th…
Poem
Hidden in the shadows, / Are the unravelings of a tortured soul, / Foul are the smells, / As he tells tales to the worms, / Eating and Meetin…
Any now for somthing completly different…..Here is a poem i did back in 2004,i kinda like it .Slighty adjusted,here it is for your viewing pleasure..Enjoy !
As they walked, he spoke of the earth, as if she was walking alongside of them, gently speaking to teach the man
American Native Peoples tale
Every time I see you / I get that same feeling / And I do the same thing / With it / Tuck it in my pocket / Next to my cherry lip gloss…
When I was a young girl I was always shy when it came to boys…this poem is from when I was 15…big ol’ crush~*
NSFW
A FREE SPIRIT WEARS A SMILE / ALWAYS HAS TIME TO TALK AWHILE / DANCES BAREFOOT WHEN SHE WANTS / VISITS ALL HER OLD HAUNTS / PLACES THAT SH…
Walking by The Little Bridge / It was shocking to see / A little elf with a walking stick / Walking next to me / We started to chat / The way …
THIS POEM IS FOR MY FRIEND HILARY…WHO SEES THE WORLD AS I DO…. / Please check out my friend Hilarydougill’s other awesome artwork & writings on RB /
When the pressure is off, / on the floor with my dress
pillow talk
When the pressure is off, / on the floor with my dress
pillow talk
But let one person talk of sex and eyeballs start to roll
A look at us and where we stand !
HOLD MY HAND / LET’S TAKE A WALK / WE CAN LOOK IN EACH OTHER EYES / WHILE WE TALK IT IS TIME TO REMINISCE / AND REMEMBER OUR DREAMS AND M…
Thank you Maggie….Please check out Maggieposh’s other awesome artwork on / the RB
My mind screams silent words at you….. / Shut the Fuck Up!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! / You’re doing my head in. / Talking at a ra…
Some people drive you insane with incessant talking…....about…....nothing…..... / I just had to vent on here….
You arrived a bit late / Without a good reason / You came to me bold / In the very wrong season / Bending the tower of my pensive books ...
pretty attire- $130.00 dinner- a lot, I can only estimate as I did not pay a dime. intangible connection – priceless. is that commercial getting old or what! / but i never got a chance to use it until now. ; )
a new beginning full of hopes and dreams…
How to feel better
I sit alone and contemplate / As the tiny seed in nature’s world / Becomes a stately tree / Communication is the key
I wrote this many years ago for a girlfriend, it didn’t achieve the desired result however we are still good friends.
i think about your day often when i am not with you i know your boundaries need a fresh review i sit outside the picture of …
boundaries with our children need rediscovering and re-adjusting from time to time…...being a parent is wonderful, hard at times , frustrating and also there is so much love…...we wouldn’t have it any other way. / But we need to take care of ourselves….to be able to take care of them..... :)
And we talk like humans do What is the universe? / It’s all stars and planets / they say / But they are all talking like / humans do. A…
This poem talks about how humans can end up talking about the same things and fail to see the meanings and beauty in life, and their discussions end up being so….. meaningless. In order not to get lost in monotonous, meaningless discussions it’s important to take time to think, dream, and wonder, and find something more than what you see.
When I was little, I used to believe in the concept / of one best friend.
I put this in once before, It is time to put it in again just to say Thank You. /
A sand fly, large and black, landed on Dylan’s red nose and stung him. He slapped his nose. ‘Ouch!’ He shook his white hair, the colour…
MEN TALK featured in Anger Management 18-8-09 / MEN TALK featured in CORE on the 13-8-09 Caution A short story. / A dialogue. / Written by a woman. / Through the eyes of two men. / About their two women. 12 years it has taken me to release this short story to the eyes of the public. I have had this short story sitting in private viewing for the past three weeks waiting for the courage to put this one out there. Ushna and her fabulous group has given my humble short story voice and recognition. This is one of my most valued features. / Thank you. Voice has been in my life a central theme. When I was at University studying Masters in Adult Education, I studied Voice and its implications in Women Studies and Autobiography and Life Long Learning. I was interested in giving voice to women in my first Autobiography Two Voices Two Women, a dialogue between my mother and I. And in my second autobiography, My life of love, loss and learning a voice to my love of all the important men in my life from father to teacher to lover to mentor to muse. With Men Talk I wanted to do something quite different and write a short story not only through the voice and eyes of one man but two men. And I wanted to write through their voice about their women. This was an exciting challenge and I have always held this little story close to me and now after all these years have brought it out to the public. I have read much and studied the men’s movement and men’s perspective as much as I have studied women’s movements and perspectives. So I just want to thank my friends on RedBubble and Ushna for allowing me this wonderful platform to bring forward not only my poems that I am writing now but for also allowing me to share those pieces of my writing history that no one has ever seen before. With Love, Anthea
I know this painting; a bereft canvas / Colouring all that I know; and yet / Don’t you think that I know the truth?
Perhaps think of this as a bit of a companion piece to Oh the delights of dating? With a hint of Everything and Nothing thrown in since the lovely Kriss likes to glimpse my ho same hum moods!
i hide in the pages of a notebook curled up in a fetal position
Writing has been my refuge, my escape for so many years that I’ve just gotten sick and tired of being my notebooks, if that makes sense. My paper and pen have been my only confidante; my notebooks have been the only place where I can pour my entire mind and self without the fear of being misunderstood or judged. And for a very long time, poetry has been the only way I’ve managed to survive difficult moments. Now I’m just tired of being words on paper. I want to escape from my escape. I wrote this out of frustration.
Nobody told them that young goats are born with springs in their hooves,
A tiny short story about young, innocent goats, watermelons, savvy coyotes, and a battery-operated radio.
My baby won’t say Hi / I don’t know why / Maybe she’s on the earth selling rainbows / And I’m buying dirt in the sky I wish I knew her se…
All I wanna do is make you banana pancakes and eat ‘em in bed with you while it rains outside.
not to repeat the same patterns…
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