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Where was Paris Hilton a year ago? She's a fabulous character to write about.

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Love Sonnet 50 Was it a year ago that I was blessed,

Was it a year ago that I was blessed,
When I could hold your hand, or kiss your lips,
Although not in the least could I have guessed,
So soon the moment from memory slips;
Oh how the world became just you and me,
That webs suspend, as spun on whims and dreams,
Enthralled by hope that hearts can beat so free,
Or by passion, pursued to the extremes;
Grape juice, when left in kegs, would age to wine,
But rose could lose its blooms without due care,
And so, how must this love behave in line,
How best does rose or wine to love compare?
……It now escapes me, was it last or prime?
….But no matter, love measures not in time.

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A year ago today, the 9/11 poem

It was a year ago today
Twin towers built of steel and stone
Still stood beside the water’s edge
To greet the final morning dawn

It was a year ago today
Some Saudi’s bent on suicide
Commandeered a flock of planes
And human reason crucified

It was a year ago today
That wingless angels sought to fly
From the upper stories strewn with glass
To flee the fires of hell they tried

It was a year ago today
When dust and darkness reigned at noon
As glaring spotlights pierced the night
Stone by stone we searched the ruins

The year has past as it always must
3000 people now but dust
But should you come to walk Ground Zero
Tread lightly on the stuff of heroes.

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A Year Ago

I'm sitting by the fire tonight,
The cat purrs on the rug;
The room's abrim with rosy light,
Suavely soft and snug;
And safe and warm from dark and storm
It's cosiness I hug.

Then petulant the window pane
Quakes in the tempest moan,
And cries: "Forlornly in the rain
There starkly streams a stone,
Where one so dear who shared your cheer
Now lies alone, alone.

Go forth! Go forth into the gale
And pass and hour in prayer;
This night of sorrow do not fail
The one you deemed so fair,
The girl below the bitter snow
Who died your child to bear."

So wails the wind, yet here I sit
Beside the ember's glow;
My grog is hot, my pipe is lit,
And loth am I to go
To her who died a ten-month bride,
Only a year ago.

To-day we weep: each morrow is
A littling of regret;
The saddest part of sorrow is
That we in time forget . . .
Christ! Let me go to graveyard woe,--
Yea, I will sorrow yet.

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On Paris Hilton

This Paris Hilton thing makes me sad
So much of it comes from who's her dad
I don't defend actions that we know are bad
But grieve that the lives of the rest of us
Have become so vacuous
Watching this media circus has become a fad.

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There Was a Poem Written Long Ago

There was a poem
Written long ago
A quiet poem
I cannot read it now
I will not write it again-

A quiet poem
We wrote
That went deep
Into my soul
And made it know
That life
Is forever good and beautiful-

A quiet poem
that will never be written
for me
again.

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Where Was The Pen?

they came
visiting in
the night

dazzling
lines from
the divine

they glistened
in the fashion
of crystal clear
water, out to sea
meteor bypassing earth

here i am
in full regret
holding on
to a golden
moment
without
the gold
lines never
to come
knocking
again

and my pen
where was it?
where was it?

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One Year Ago Today [3-7-08]

One year ago today...
The world came crashing down
Our lives fell to pieces
But no one heard a sound

One year ago today...
All our strength disappeared
We fell into the dark
And started drowning in our fear

One year ago today...
Your truck flipped and crashed
And left me without the strength
To move on from the past


*RiP Quinton (3-7-07)

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Where were you, where was I?

Where were you, where was I
when God created, set the globe
of this world in its place in the universe,
founding it to spin, to have night and day
setting seasons, years to exist?

Where were anybody when the sun the first time
devoured the darkness, when earth and ocean,
the blue sea parted to let dry land appear

and who can declare the knowledge
of the starting of life, who has the capacity
to bring it forth?

Where were we when angelic beings
saw all of these happenings,
sang together in joy,
before mere man
started living, as a rational being?

[References: Job 38: 4-7.]

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Where Was I?

Where was I born? And now I am
A new repeated spirit of some behavior;
The disturbed house has been afraid
Of the felt minds and occupations.
Altering our initial requests
Is alarming and over-working,
To be made a thought of.

Crossing the threshold we clasp our hands
And absently loiter with dressings
And other clothes we shall wear.
The emotion of hysteria was felt
Within, the mind had troubled me enough.

A spare room was needed to ourselves,
Considerably the weeping was dying
And the diamonds sympathized with us.
Our images were wrecking the show
That was delivered to the world as a stunt.

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Coming Back To The Corner Where I Just Sat A Minute Ago

without much thought
i come back to that corner where i just sat
a minute ago
i am not looking for anything
i know i have not forgotten anything like a pen
or a lighter or a piece of paper
for in truth i do not bring these kind of stuff anymore
a pen in my pocket cannot be
i don't have a pocket
a piece of paper to write some notes of things that i easily forget
like things to do this morning
or a meeting tonight
or a date with someone else
for i do not write those things which are so important to me
because i do not really forget anything so important
what more for a lighter...
in truth, i ceased to be an arsonist
of love..

i get burned, i do not burn anyone.

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Where was the guard at hearts gate

Where was the guard at hearts gate
Where was the warning cry
How could he let you enter and hurt me
Why did he let you walk by

Where was the keeper of wisdom
Why was there no sage advise
Where was the counsel I now know I needed,
When I yearned for a heart made of ice

Where were my trusted companions
Who swore they would keep me from harm
Why weren't they here in the time of my downfall
When I fell for your lies and your charm

Where is the lady who promised
Her love was forever and true
Why claim her words hold a truth and a power
Then casually find love anew.

Where was the guard at hearts gate
Why was there no warning shout
Saying I'd go from the warmth of her sunlight
To living in shadows of doubt.


Perry Biggerstaff

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Where Was Heaven? .

where was heaven?
when my father died,
with tears in my eyes i cried,

where was heaven?
when i was in jail,
when i was broke and couldn't post bail,

where was heaven?
when i smoked crack,
when my grandfather died from a hart attack,

where was heaven?
when i was broke?
when people looked at me funny and thought i was a joke,

where was heaven?
when i asked god for forgiveness,
when my cousin got murdered and there was no witness,

where was heaven?
when i asked for one more try,
when i had thoughts of suicide,

where was heaven?
when we wanted to end the war,
when america said no more,

where was heaven?
where was heaven on september eleven,
ask yourself where was heaven?

1/16/2009
Copyright ©2009 Jose Murguia

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The Story Behind The Fire This Morning

before the house was razed by fire
the old man visited the house and cried
telling me about a young man who promised
that if he ever loves another woman
the house shall be burned
to strip it of its meaning

at 6: 30 today early morning the firemen
called it a day. The house is gone
The old man gone. The young man gone.

i like to write the story behind all these
misfortune
but i am afraid that some parts of it
may not be true
or that if true, it may not be fair at all,
or that it be totally unjust
so that there is no use
writing it anymore

The old woman died a year ago
She floated in air
suffered vertigo
she gave up finally
the young man to the world
heard the promise of the old man
who could not do anything
when the house
got burned.

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Where was my brother

Where was my brother when I needed him there?
Does he think I don’t notice or assume I don’t care?

Where was my bother it was once him and once me?
But now at some bad times it’s him I don’t see.

Where was my brother who’s back I once had?
You were the brother to count on the good times and bad.

Where was my brother by my side he should be?
He should be right here why can’t I see?

Where was my brother when I needed him most?
Now when I look to my side all I see is his ghost.

Where was my brother did I bring shame?
Does he remember me now, does he remember my name?

Where was my brother waiting to long for his call?
So I put up a brick on my emotional wall.

Where was my brother, its his court its his ball?
Guess my brother has proved he’s no brother at all.

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Where was your love?

Where was your love?
When I needed your love
Where were your hugs?
When I was soaked in my sobs

Where was your love?
When I needed your love
Yours was never near
Nor were your wandering ears
As you were hardly ever there

I will rather talk about this now than later
A fire can be quenched by not only water
People speak of no smoke without a fire
I speak of hate born not just by greedy desire

You haunt me, a ghost from the past to boast
Where was your love when I needed your love?
Where were you friend when I need you most?
You gave me the shoulder along with the shove

Where was your love?
When I needed your love
Where was your care?
When I cried rainy tears

With shattered dreams on broken wings
Where was your love when I needed your love?
When I lost the will to sing a simple octave
What mattered to you were your lousy flings

With a thin line between love and hate
My dear old friend, my dear old mate
Let me be clear and completely straight
Love has disappeared at a very fast rate

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Where Was I

Staring out the window
Watching the night turn into day
It's 4 in the morning
I've got so many things to say
I've been out here in the darkness
With shadows all around
Where was I before you came around
Standing in a phone booth
Lord I'm watching the rain fall down
Don't know where I'm going
Don't even know the name of this town
I've been stranded in the spotlight
Like a king wtithout a crown
Where was I before you came around
I was lonely, I was on my own
I was drifting, no place to call home
Now I'm stronger
Where would I be
Without you lovin' me
I was lonely, on my own
I was drifting, no place to call home
Now I am stronger, where would I be
Without you lovin' me
Oh, staring out the window
I've heard you say it's gonna be alright
These words from you girl
I can make it through another night
I need someone to believe in
I was lost I was found
You give me someone to believe in
Where was I before you came around
You give me someone to believe in
Where was I before you came around

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Where was father?

Quick to flatter without falter
Spreading out his seeds with speed
Leading mother to the altar
Declining to take on his role and lead
When it was time to fulfill my needs

Where was father when I needed him most?
It hurts to hear others speak of fathers and boast

Where was father when I needed him most?
I gathered he cowardly conceded his post

Where was father when I needed him most?
Did he set off for greener grasses by the coast?

We speak of fathers and mothers
We seek in no chronological order
Their guidance and support
As we learn back and forth

Where was father when I needed him most?
He abandoned his bedpost and left us to roast

Where was father when I needed him most?
It mattered to me to have him as a family host

He should have been
My personal mentor!
My cherished educator!
My inflexible motivator!
My life striving navigator!

Shall I put up a glass and shamefully toast?
To a man who stayed clear of being my guidepost

Where was father when I needed him most?
Without remorse I desire to bury his ghost

Copyright 2007 - Sylvia Chidi

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The Guardian Angels

A Ballad

Father John in the green lane went
And he drew his robe full tight,
'I would,' quoth he, 'I were home again
For there's evil in the night.
'I would,' quoth he, 'the gold I bear
Were safe with the poor and old,
For strange the fear that follows me
That my eyes cannot behold.'
He looked him left and there he saw
A white rose climb and cling,
He looked him right and in the brake
A wild bird shook his wing.
He looked him back and far there stood
The old church tall and dim,
Yet on the lonely path there came
A terror strange to him.

Without the shadow of the trees
That bent above his way,
Where lost the moon her silver light,
He stood at last at bay.
And on his gown, from his pale brow
Fell great tears of his fright;
His shaking hands held close the gold
Wrapped in its cloth so white.
He knelt him down upon his knee
And prayed the Lord to hear,
'Christ, loosen Thou these laggard feet
That hold me slow in fear.
'Oh, strengthen Thou this childish heart
That trembles all afraid,
In pity for the calling sick
Who die without my aid.
'And let me bring all safely through
The shadows of the night,
The gold I bear for old and poor,
Still Thou this strange affright.'

And as he prayed from off his heart
Fear's clutching fingers fell,
A holy joy grew in his heart
He knew that all was well.
He turned him left and stayed to take
A white rose from her tree,
He turned him right and lilted low
A wild bird melody.
He looked him back and smiling saw
The tall church guarding him,
And then all fearless laughing sped
Through shadows strange and dim.

When but a year had passed away
There came before his gate,
A dying man who 'Succour,' cried
'Before it be too late.'
'Oh, shrive me, Father, ere I die,'
The moaning stranger said;
He took him to his own hearth side
And laid him on his bed.

'Oh, Father! Father! hear me now
And let me rest in peace.'
'Now speak, my son, and tell your sin
To give your soul release.'
'It was one night a year ago
Sweet Mary, ease my pain—
I followed far your toiling feet
Within a lonely lane.
'The red gold for the old and poor
You had beneath your gown,
I hid within a darksome place
Where I could strike you down.'
Now Father John he smiled and leant
In pity by the bed,
'I did disarm you by my prayer,
I thank the Lord,' he said.
'I went in fear upon my path
I knew some danger lay,
And lone I knelt upon the road
A little while to pray.'

The dying man he raised his head
And laughed both long and loud,
'Oh, ne'er a prayer would hold my hand
Or keep you from your shroud.
'But by you went two mighty men
To guard you either side,
Else had my dagger reached your heart
And surely you had died.'
Then Father John upon his knees
Bent low his holy head,
'God's angels walked beside me there
Lest you my blood should shed
My guardian angels walked by me,
I thank Thee, Lord,' he said.

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Grey(A Sad Tale)

I tell a tale I know not, of a dame I knew not, whom like me they know not, in an age we were known not.
It was many, many a year ago that a young lass lived whom ye may know by the name of Jasmine Désolé. She lived with no other thought but to love and be loved in return. Sadly, this was not the case of her life, nor the purpose of her miserable existence. Though at the time she thought she was born by love to love and be loved. In no time, a cynic emerged as life viewed through a prism reflected an iridescence of ugly greys. In a kingdom called MIND, she was queen and king the same, the world was mean, her mind kinder. So for the rest of her days she lived in her head. She had no friends. And though a beauty, no lover. Her first kiss opened her to an array of creatures called MEN. But as each frog turned into a prince, they fled the scene as with the speed of lightning being chased by sound. Jasmine was opened and welcomed to a palace called SADNESS whose chef was named DEPRESSION. She ate and ate and in no time, she was robust and drowning in a river anciently known as LONELINESS. Time built her a tunnel and all her massively wrong choices shut its door. Sitting on the floor sobbing quietly to her maker many, many a year before this year, Jasmine pondered on why life was so meaningless to her and why at no point had the lines fallen unto her in pleasant places. She felt like a fish outside water; death being water and life the shore. It marked the beginning of ten or most likely more attempts to exit earth. After each attempt she dusted her feet and saw life as a rainbow. In few months, the novelty wore off and life went back to normal - grey. She ran from home when she fell short of their expectation to a land in which she knew no one nor anyone her and when she finally returned home to a family with adjusted expectations, she ran again to a different land with the same tale. Sadness had filled her soul and her eyes were the only window of escape.
If you ever see Jasmine Désolé in the world unnamed, you will know her by her big large brown eyes which bookmark sorrow. These eyes once browsed across a threnody by a great poet and rained heavily at the words:
'Was there no star that could be sent,
No watcher in the firmament,
No angel from the countless host
That loiters round the crystal coast,
Could stoop to heal that only child'. She had the heart of a child and often wondered why God had never stooped to help her. On this one fateful day however, she sat on her balcony, stared into her past and all she had ever been. She thought for hours. Then drugged herself to kick the bucket. And for the next five days, the bucket lay stone cold. Her mum held her cold feet as she lay motionless on the hospital bed and with a hundred teardrops prayed. Two thousand hands of a thousand angels tried to resuscitate her. Four thousand teardrops of the thousand angels kept her body warm. On the fifth day she came back to life with the breath of God and a phrase that said: 'This isn't everything you are.'
Days and months and years went by, all acquaintances had become strangers, 'possibilities' made nothing. And on one busy day, noise gave way to silence as she declared 'I DO NOT BELIEVE IN GOD'. An extremist by all makings she was, as she swung from full faith in God to utter disbelief in his ability. God had smiled but frayed her days. She was a light to others but knew it not, the light she shone on others cast a shadow on her own life. If tears were a trophy she'd have a fountain. If life were a choice, she'd choose death over and over again. Nothing worked nor made sense. She wished she knew, at any point knew, how life should be lived. She sought not love anymore, neither knew how to. Aches and pains and loneliness and regrets and all her baggages transmogrified into one giant molten scar known as her. No more hopes, no more dreams. She strolled through earth, to fulfill her days, having but one hope and one only. That one day in her walk through the world, she'd stumble into a garden that was bursting into life. On her tombstone it was written: 'One thing lingers, love remains love. And if ever you're unsure, just remember, God remains God'. As all whose lives her light had touched gathered in their thousands, it rained and poured. All stood still and cried and poured. Tears and rain, her journey's tale. Many and many a time had she walked in the rain and cried with it. She loved rain, she loved God, she loved...
I write a tale I know not, of a dame who knew me not, whom like me they know not, in an age we are not known.
It was many, many a year ago that a young lass lived whom ye may know by the name of Jasmine Désolé. 

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The Last Dream...

'What has become of my life, ' he said
To the clock on the kitchen wall,
But the hands stood still at 20 to 4,
The clock didn't know at all!

He turned to the mirror that mocked him there
Each time that he walked on past,
And searched for a sign in the pits and lines
Of the stranger who peered from the glass.

'Where are the days of the youth I had
When I laughed and cried out loud?
Are they hidden away on a dark pathway
Where I walk with my shoulders bowed? '

'And where, oh where was the love I knew
As she tripped from the wishing well,
And the coins that we threw in the fountain there...'
- There are several kinds of hell!

The sand still spills from the hour glass
As he tries to find some meaning,
'Til he falls asleep by the mantelpiece
For the last dream, dreaming.

20 January 2010

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