Gather ye coal dust by T.May.

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I took this photo in 2008

Don’t believe him, it’s  just a contincnce trick
She shelled pea shells in the she store
Gather ye coal dust by T.May.
He’s a psychowrath and sociodeath  made into one
That’s not  a man,it’s my husband.
He’s my brother-in-flaw.
Can  I carry my sister?
She was my aunt by barrage
He tells lies as if he was born to tweet.
If he is a liar, I’ll eat my cat
He’s as honest as the ploy  is wrong.
He tried to talk me into his shed.
I don’t know what the Eskimos know
{ that line  occurred to me in a dream, and I was singing it]
If all goes well,I’ll be wool soon
He was my sweetheart for a shower or two
I don’t like delta x.It comes and goes and yet all calculus depends on it.Talk about  quantum dramatics!
Why do x,y, and z stand for the unknown? I’d prefer names like John,Mike and Fred
dJohn/dFred =3 times round the houses at the speed of fright
I never understood physics and I don’t know y.
He was a mutation alright.He had no strings on his violamb
She used to eat cake for its interference and i-songs

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The poet contemplates the nature of reality

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/145594/the-poet-contemplates-the-nature-of-reality

 

The Poet Contemplates the Nature of Reality

On the side of the road a deer, frozen, frigid.
Go back to your life, the voice said.
What is my life? she wondered. For months she lost
herself in work—Freud said work is as important
as love to the soul—and at night she sat with a boy,
forcing him to practice his violin, helping him recite his notes.
Then the ice thawed and the deer came to life.
She saw her jump over the fence, she saw her in the twilight,
how free she looked. She saw her eyes shiny as marbles,
as much a part of this world as the fence a worker
pounds into the earth. At night she still sat with the boy.
He’s learning “Au Claire de la Lune.”
Do you know it? He has established a relationship
with his violin. He knows that it takes practice to master it:
the accuracy of each note, to wrestle his feelings to the listener.
But he’s impatient. Sometimes what he hears and feels
are not always the same. Again, the poet says.
She knows if he tries to silence his fervor, he might not ever know
who he is. The poet contemplates whether a deer can dream.
Rich blood-red berries on a branch, pachysandra in the garden.
A soft warm bed in the leaves.
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Symphony of science

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Covered in ink

After I had my wisdom tooth out I got a UTI so my brain is a bit off!I hope now I am on antibiotics I shall be able to write againPhoto0412.jpg

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Yet shadows give the depth and height to life

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By ShimonZ

A gentle growth of fragile spring time plants
Takes our minds off wasps and biting ants
In Nature we can see the cruel and kind
As we do in our own human minds.

The shadow hides behind the perfect form
Soon the flower will wither, all forlorn
Yet shadows give the depth and height to life
The shadow and its form are man and wife

We look for sunny days and pleasures green
To love in meadows and inside our dreams
But winter will descend despite our pleas
As soil and earth desire the cold to grieve

Look at what opposes  love’s desires
Then let your  human heart burn in the Fire.

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The white starling

starlingfam1
Mike Flemming copyright

http://home.btconnect.com/mike.flemming/WStarling.htm

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Where angels must not  tread,  there love agrees

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By my sister copyright

Colours make us think of love and joy
Forgot the hate beneath which may annoy
As we need respite from the strain of life
So a husband needs a   kindly wife

Forget the new age  politics and rights
The PC speech that  our desire will blight
Underneath there is a river deep
Where man and woman live and  love may leap

 

The old men still remember  with their hearts
The young  may never feel the union  start
For underneath the gossip and the sleaze
Where angels must not  tread,  there   love agrees

Let the silence of the evening sky
Give us sense to live and sense to die

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Where all our darkest shadows live.

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The trees’ roots wind beneath the grass.
Grass so perfect,neatly mown.
In roots entangled,serpents mass
Beneath the fruit trees which now groan.

Another,darker world beneath,
Where the roots  stark homes  do give
To tiny creatures which there seethe,
Where all our darkest shadows live.

From here a serpent  malice took
From our neglect  what we hate.
We see the surface , do  not look
At what lies deeper ,till too late.

 

And so we live, both deaf and blind
To the depths of our own minds

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Rising Sap by Mike Flemming

D-Rising Sap

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