A feather fell from heaven.
From an angel's wing, it flew.
Through the ether, it drifted.
Till in fires of Hell,
A lone soul saw its last heavenly glint.
Raising his hand, he cried, "Salvation!"
And reached for the feather.
Other souls heard his cry and gathered in a rush,
Disturbing the quiet hush.
A feather from heaven to redeem perdition's lost souls.
"For me," one cried.
"Mine," another shouted.
The souls began to push and fight.
"It's my feather!"
"It fell for me!"
The hot rush of air from the struggling souls
Lofted the feather back up towards heaven.
More souls gathered and fought.
Piling one on top the other,
The souls became inspired, as the heap grew higher.
The rush of air from their heated labors pushed the feather ever up.
More souls gathered to climb the human tower,
Questing for the feather, yearning for heaven.
Soon the ground was trampled to a mire.
Yet the tower of souls grew ever higher.
Its mass weighed so heavy,
So dense, that the ground soon began to crack and spew forth fire.
The hot gasses made the feather rise ever higher.
Finally the last soul in Hell climbed the twisting and turning tower
of other souls.
Each one grasped another, holding tight.
He snatched at the feather.
Holding it in his hand at last,
He looked around for the first time
And saw that he had climbed all the way to heaven.
Just then the ground cracked open
Tumbling the souls with a collapsing, jumbling fall of the crust of
Hell.
All into a sea of fire.
While slowly the feather drifted down.
Sunday, February 17, 2008
The Feather
"Freezing rain"
__,_._,___
Dominatrix
Is it quiet, as your fingers play with the sunbeams?
Those little dust motes move and dance.
Don't contribute, don't judge, no opinions, stasis is the way.
How long can you stare, unmoving?
Do you grin as each little light settles on your hand and fades away,
As your fingers close in a fist of control?
Or do you flick them aside, watch them float away,
Your body moving side to side, a small infinity, gyrating with you?
Copyright 2008 J Ruana
Love Happened
*When we least expected it, there it was, *
*smack dab in the middle of God's paradise,*
*to grab and take hold of us.*
*It slid over us, soft and slick, *
*slipping gently*
*like the jasmine scented oil you gave me*
*catching us unaware.*
*We shared, we gave, for no other reason*
*than it felt right. *
*You gave me a coconut, i gave You a lizard.*
*i fed You uncooked oatmeal, *
*You let me think i wasn't poisoning You.*
*Love happened.*
*Blooming like the flowers *
*cascading down the sides of the house,*
*an explosion of color, an exotic aroma in the air,*
*filling one's senses.*
*Growing like a wildfire out of control,*
*hungrily licking to feed and nourish.*
*Love happened*
**
*Without warning, without expectations, and welcomed with open arms.*
*(c) Deborah Woolverton
-----------------------------
http://www.onairtoday.com - Search Videos
Kleptomaniac
Daniel Stine © 2008
Kleptomaniac.
Who knows when she will attack,
she's a maniac.
I never knew she was this way
Until just the other day.
She swiped a bottle of juice,
Drank it down, now its refuse,
She's so clever, suspect her never.
Stuffing coffee packs
into a baby's backpack,
Kleptomaniac
I never knew what was in store
When I gave her the box, said I want more.
Contents were gone quick as a flash
An empty box was in the trash.
She took the hint, never paid the rent.
Kleptomaniac.
There is no safe she can't crack.
There's loot in that sack.
I think I sorta knew what she was gonna do
When she said "wait here hon, I'm gonna use the loo".
Not more than three minutes had passed
when she came out walking kinda fast.
Casually clutching, singing ka-ching!
My heart she did track
Lover's tricks she did not lack.
She's my maniac.
Now I know she's a persistent perpetrator
and now I am her unwitting collaborator.
She's my lover, the kleptomaniac
and I'm her lover, on a different track.
Kleptomaniac, she's my maniac.
Saturday, February 9, 2008
Wail Of The Banshee
by Edward Wolverton@2008
She cries by night
at the sail of wind.
Doom,and gloom
shadowed the weigh,
weir of tears
and scoffed at bay,
awaiting the voice
of a banshee song.
Wail, my beauty
till death has robbed,
the night cries
and shadow eyes come.
A voice
long distant,
a voile and volant curse,
volatile upon life's mist,
brings my slothful slope
beneath the stone.
The Devinne ghost
of the Emerald Isle
to visit in the dark of night,
riding the trail to my ravaged door,
and naked be my injustice
to hound my human book,
aloof the gargoyle's eye,
and a gait the manor house ruin,
gainfully gaggles my gaiety
with rufous blood.
Rumbling the shadows of wind,
the razor sharp of raze to my nerve
to rattle my brain,
and quiet my soul ready
for a time of death,
the quietism of the Queen
to give me rest.
She howls,
indeed to my thrust,
and gust she shall scream
deeply into my ears
the gallows song,
and gala to gape
upon my eyes no more,
as she waits just outside my door.
Crafting Words of Love
*Or spin a tale or two—*
*Something moving heart and soul*
*Of how I feel towards you.*
*I'd call forth sweet-voiced Muses,*
*To share their melody,*
*To help create some words of love*
*That I could sing to thee.*
*A sonnet sung, a tale that's told,*
*That all the world might hear,*
*To help restore the faith man has,*
*So love might persevere.*
*But if I were to craft such words*
*That I attested to,*
*I wonder if I'd have the strength*
*To share those words with you.*
* *
*(c) Deborah Woolverton*
Her Tears
Forming tiny splashes
Jumping up to meet her
Thicker and thicker
The rain pours from above
Shaping puddles beneath her feet
The strong wind sends ripples through the water
She can barely see
Her eyes clouded by rain
The puddles are growing larger as time passes her by
Had it been hours?
Days?
Was it even years?
All time eluded her
The pools of water
Now creeping up to her ankles
Day by day it rises
Her thighs
Her hips
Her waist
Is she disappearing?
Her frame is now decreasing
As the liquid's mass increases
So much pain she feels inside
She knows not what to do
Bar watch the sea engulf her
It rises and rises
She feels herself floating
Drifting away from it all
Farther and farther
Will she drift forever?
The seaweed flows along the seabed
The fish swim around her
But her pain is still with her
From all these years
Can anything bring her happiness?
The sea has engulfed her
The sadness from within her
Shines through her soul
A beacon forever asking for help
But no one ever answers
As the pain pulls her down
It holds her there
Unable to rise again
She lies at the bottom of the ocean
Friday, February 8, 2008
Surreality
Reality is much stranger than you would think
More organic
more alive
more astonishing
There is a lot more to Reality
than any of us can imagine
In fact Reality can only be grasped
through the consistent
and determined use of the imagination
This is how we achieve the essence of the surreal
Surreal is not something existing outside of Reality
but is the higher expression of Reality
within our minds
Imagination is not an escape from Reality
It is our best tool for perceiving it
ANGER
YOU FEEL THE ANGER AWAKE!
LIKE A BIRD OF PREY SWOOPING TOWARDS IT'S QUARRY,
FASTER AND FASTER IT SNAKES!
COMMANDING THE BRAIN IT RUSHES FORTH,
SINSTER,FOUL,OBSCURE!
ERASING ALL TRACE OF THE PREVIOUS HOST,
THE IMAGE BEFORE NOW A BLURR!
IN TOTAL COMMAND NOW IT CONTORTS THE FACE,
SPITTING AND SPEWING CONTEMPTUOUS WASTE!
CONTORTED FEATURES, GUTTURAL SOUNDS
METAMORPHOSIS COMPLETE NOW
AS ANGER POUNDS!
Sins of the Father
inflicted on the child,
whispered threats of silence,
followed with a smile.
Acting very properly
within the light of day,
then turning into something else,
when all have gone away.
Endless hateful hurting words,
a slap, a touch, a grope.
Never knowing what comes next,
not knowing how to cope.
Made to feel like nothing more,
than just some dirt and grime,
a struggle with her sanity,
she lost from time to time.
A fight to break the pattern,
so the sins do not pass on,
ensuring happy memories,
that youth may dream upon.
The evil, sick and twisted games,
to which the world was blind
her childhood lost forevermore,
buried within her mind.
© Deborah Woolverton
The Next Time
I'm going to tell you how
When things are dark and dismal in my world
I find you there….bringing me light and comfort
In a way that only you can do.
How in the moments we are apart
When time seems to stand still
I can close my eyes and see your smiling face
You're right there with me
Helping to ease the loneliness until we are together again
I'm going to tell you
How when a gentle wind passes by
It's like the feel of your fingertips caressing my cheek
Before sliding up to embed themselves in my hair
Or how I'll never be able to eat a strawberry
Or watch the night sky as it explodes with lightning
Without thinking of you
I'm going to tell you everything
How I never thought someone might want me…let alone love me
And make me believe it….until you
When you kissed me, breathing life and love into me
Jump starting my heart
The next time I see you
I'm going to tell you how
I always knew you were an angel
Before your spirit melded with mine...
When your invisible wings touched my soul
Caressing me with your love
© Deborah Woolverton
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
Lonely Valentine
but you won't be with me,
I will not get to gaze upon
the face I want to see. *
*
Chances are we might not get
to talk upon the phone,
On the most romantic day,
I'll feel the most alone.
I never noticed just how bright
the stars light up the sky,
Until I looked upon your face
and saw them in your eyes.
I never knew the burning flames
that come from passion's fire,
Until one little Celtic kiss,
ignited my desire
I never thought it'd hurt this bad
to love someone so much,
Until your hand reached out for mine,
with just a simple touch.*
(c) Deborah Woolverton
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
THE NEW PARADISE
Neng Tony Mercado Peña
ArtDax Translation
Open the door
Oh loving Shepherd
for my lost and forlorn soul
It moans and cries
looking for shelter
Your abode will make it whole
Give me new friends
Who will take me in
Who have goodness in their heart
And strenght to love
all their fellow men
and make each Sheep of Yours a part
Set me free in
the new paradise
devoid of an evil serpent
though bare I'll be
all my days there
Will forever in goodness spent
In the new paradise
The fence is secure
So only goodness will be stored
and the holy staff
will spread the blessings
of the Shepherd of the Lord
poem, (harm)acrimonious
the guillotine
the rack
or the applause
of (at least) one person
it could be
any of these
and all
depending on
the platform
onto which i blindly
step
from my cave
i fear
ill or not
careful or not
trembling
even while in this shelter
because
i think
before i
walk forth
apprehension
is nothing more than
extending
the bad part
of what could be
waiting joy
or tar and feathers
and all these reactions
mean
the same thing
i have done
as You want me to do
the only applause i need
is Yours
and that
is a constant ovation
Monday, February 4, 2008
Mother
your two year old budda belly
curled into my body
warm soft cheek to cheek
drifting
awash in the smell of your baby curls
giddy with mother love
a tender river pure flowing
filling all of me
in love
you
demanding bossy stubborn 4 year old
a standoff
stomping tantrum
tyrannical
manipulating me into concessions
beating me into submission with your inexhaustible demands
frustration anger
an urge to flee to run
escape
into nothingness for awhile
blessing
curse
mother.
Light
after all this pain and searching
of days unfulfilled and soul lessness
I'm on my way to something great
my time is coming fast.
A time when i'll be free
a soul with over flowing waters, praise be
a never ending cup
A light once out is flickering
a rekindled spark of hope, of joy of love
a happiness i thought had gone
never to return
There will be future struggles
soul versus consciousness
love v lust
but this worm has turned
the war is nearly won
My struggle not so hard
i shall go on
i shall remain
victory will be mine
My light once dark
my final resting place
will blaze with happiness
First Kiss
Time stood still
Our world silent,
Save for the sounds of tiny whimpers
As that kiss of Yours took me by surprise.
Time seemed to stand still
But at the end of the day
When all was said and done
It flew by far too quickly.
There have been many kisses since then
Each special in their own way
But my mind will always remember
With great fondness
That first kiss
The lost breaths intermingling
A hint of coffee tasted
When You kissed me
Breathing life into me
Stirring my spirit
When love bloomed
And I began to live.
© Deborah
Sunday, February 3, 2008
Life at the Rock.
Daniel © 2008
tick, tock, tick, tock,
seconds crawl across a lonely clock.
such is Life at the Rock…
sliding ever deeper into hock,
can't afford gas, guess I'll walk.
such is Life at the Rock.
on the door there is no lock,
for here opportunity does not knock.
such is Life at the Rock.
"thanks John" oh what a crock,
i'd like to stuff him in a sock.
such is Life at the Rock.
It's hard not to mock
this Life at the Rock.
Its hard not to knock
this life on the rockssss
s
s
splat!
^^ ^^^ ^ ^^
In Your Arms
and dream of moonlit, star-filled skies
A single long stemmed rose of white,
A searing kiss that does ignite.
A lovers walk on beach front sand,
Watching waves surge hand in hand.
Mint satin sheets against my skin,
Your cute and charming boyish grin.
A quiet dinner just for two,
A window table with a view.
Your hand running along my thighs,
The breathless tempo of my sighs.
Of love songs written just for us,
Your warm and tender sweet caress.
Looking out upon the sea,
Your arms gently holding me.
Barefoot feet upon the grass,
please make this dream forever last.
©Deborah Woolverton