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Viewing: Blog Posts Tagged with: Stories and art, Most Recent at Top [Help]
Results 51 - 75 of 82
51. Sometimes the best …


Sometimes the best is left unseen while in a dream.
No matter the quest of the dreamer life flows in other forms and different dreams seem to swirl without consequence of the dreamed outcome and the dreamer though satisfied in his thoughts will never know the other nor will the other know the dream.
1home021jdm1

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52. Searching


I can not help looking around the next bend.
Some days it brings sorrow and heart ache,
Some times a great realization of beauty but always,

always I find something new and exciting around that bend.

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53. Passion


A delicate balance of dark taken from night to bathe the light of love from it’s blinding self and passion flirts with immortality in an intricate dance of eternity.

Passion

Passion

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54. Lucky Boy


One day once upon a time, much like this very day , there lived in a place that was full of magic a very lucky boy …
His name was Very Lucky Boy and he was very happy. He had Very good friends and they were happy people also…
It so happened that people who didn’t live where the Lucky Boy lived were greedy and tried to take all the happiness away by destroying the economy of the Lucky people and making the things they believed in tarnish in the light of the sun…
It was so bad that one or two of the Lucky Boy’s favorite people started telling little white lies and trying to make up stories…
Lucky Boy saw this and it made him sad but before becoming bitter, Lucky Boy was even luckier and found some old friends he had not seen in many years who were still happy and did not believe in sad, unlucky things…
They came to lucky Boy and said great things that filled him with so much hope and happiness it drove the sad thoughts back to where they started and Lucky Boy was even happier than before…
He was so happy that even on a winter day he saw rainbows and blue skies…
dsc_3028jdm132

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55. The Secret


jdmsecret215091

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56. The oak in me …


Centuries pass before the oak reaches final mass, decline surely to follow, a hard thing for the giant to swallow.
Gray and great, in summer heavy with green, the kind seen only in my dreams that seed my night and propagate.
With tentacled feet reaching deep, deeper than my soul can fathom, askew and random.
It could be me standing there, the wind rustling my hair, thinking lofty thought, stuck within my only plot.

The Oak-N-Me

The Oak-N-Me

1 Comments on The oak in me …, last added: 2/15/2009
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57. OH Moon …


Well I best be asking old Moon to come back because I haven’t seen it in a while. I aught to make a business of doing that because I know the moon is either shy or gets mad easily and will go away and it scares people. SOOOO for just a few coins I will beseech the moon on your behalf to come back when you peeve her off . You seem to do that every month but she likes me and will come back if I ask her. I figure between all of you a dollar a month, or more if you were really bad see me on the side, would do the trick. Why so much you ask? Well it takes all my time thinking of how to get your money , … errr I mean … how to bring her back. She demands that I come before her dressed in fine clothes with gold embroidery ya know, then there is the part that with all my time begging on your behalf I have no time to work so need a little bit for my new truck , … err I mean … gas to light the flames of passion I dedicate to her though all those flames make my house very warm it will all be for you. SO give it up for Moon’s day will ya?

Oh Moon , I , on behalf of those who donated ONLY!, I beseech you to come back into our lives and light the way in our night that we may not trip on that extra lamb shank I bought with fat money and may you make them understand that if they give me more I will buy more that I … err … We might walk in safety the darkened streets that economy has laid upon us.
Yes I said it …

January Moon

January Moon

      

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58. One day it came to me.


I was on the road and weary, walking all the day.
Evening came with cold dark skies and I looked for some weeds within to lay.
No one had I seen to hitch a ride, the pain in my head grew and hunger deep inside.
I hauled up underneath a tree, amongst some savory weeds that looked ok to me.
To stem my hunger I grabbed a few, put water in my cup, a hunk of shoe and started my hobo stew.
As the sun was sinking my fire was warm and I was thinking.
This soup is mighty tasty with those funny weeds, why I should put more in, I’ll add some seeds.
Evening sun was yellow and almost dim when I heard “AHEM’ coming from a wee little fellow.
I jumped in surprise two feet high, he just stood there, backlit, his vehicle near by.
He said as I settled against the tree, ” you were looking tired and a ride I have for just a little fee “.
I stammered ” WWWhat might it be you could possibly want from me?
He smiled a funny crooked smile so wide with lips so thin and skin like desert dried hide.
“Why some of your tucker, I’ve come a long long way and I missed my supper.”
I looked at him and then my cup. I shoved over what was left and invited him to sup.
As he sipped like a gentleman of taste I watched for sign he might lay me to waste.
He did not though and only spoke of wondrous things while stuffing more weed into his poke.
He said to me it must be grand for you to have such food and all this land.
I said it was and looked around. No other living thing could be found.
He finished with a noisy slurp rubbed his round tummy and let out a burp.
The earth it shook and rumbled, the sound so strong in made me tumble.
I got back up as he laughed so loud it laid the grass so low it looked plowed.
He said ” Because you were so kind to share your fair, my ride and I will take you anywhere”
He spread his arms and looked to the skies, a twinkle in those deep purple eyes.
I asked if there was no limit, he said ” not for you my friend anywhere you wish and time can’t dim it.”
I pondered a bit . You don’t get a chance like this often so I searched my whit.
I looked out and pointed saying “Among those stars?”
He chuckled a little saying “yes I’ve been there but I’m not so sure take some care!”
I cried “YES YES out there’s the place, no more running this crazy race!”
We hugged shoulder to shoulder. He pointed the way and walked me over.
He stuffed me in a funny machine while he slipped to controls in between.
The engines fired with a shake, we bolted like the strike of a snake.
We flew through the universe his eye on his dial. I said I was tired and slept for a while.
When I awoke though it was with a bad omen you see for he had left me under that same old oak tree.
Now some say it’s wondrous and some say it was the weed but I say I slept soundly on old shoe and seed.
ufoovermclaughlin1

      

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59. Message to a friend


Zeek here loved stealing cat food from the cat bowl, he was the best I have ever seen, actually going between the cats legs while the cat was eating. He is an inspiration to me as to bold action and sad endings as well for he did that one too many times and Tailess made him pay! Still he lived the life of great courage and fat times while he was on top of his game, what more can we ask but that out of life?

Maybe to never get caught but the end is the same for all living creatures in this life at least and we move on to greater challenges.
”c)~
zeeksays1-copy Zeek the sneak …
      

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60. Memories


Reflections in a pool are like our recollections of life, sometimes clear but most times a little rippled and colored.

      

1 Comments on Memories, last added: 11/3/2008
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61. Murder of Mr. P. Kin


  Mr. P. Kin was found early this morning, lying motionless at his home at Gardener lane.

His innards had been taken in no doubt some twisted eating frenzy cult affair.
Ms. B. Crocker, a neighbor, was questioned but released as she had pies to attend.
The friends and family of Mr. Kin were strangely absent as well and a search of the local cold cellar
found them huddled together, fearful of the same fate. The authorities were told of a similar disaster
that had befallen all of the Berry family and stories of the dismemberment of corn stalks and theft of Ms. Moos Udder contents as well and they suspected Berries were still being picked on!
The authorities ventured back to Ms. Crocker’s and while asking questions there had pieces of two different
delicious pies with milk .
      

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62. It’s a BIG 1


There are days I feel so small and wish I were bigger than big taller than tall.

I would be handsome for all to see, I’d put on fall colors and say look at me.

But then I think that if I were so tall my mother couldn’t reach me to kiss me and all.

My friends would not be able to play, Id be so tall I could not hear what they say.

So for now at least I should be happy with what I can do.

I can watch from above all the things smaller than you. 

      

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63. Thorr


Thorr woke up today but didn’t really want to play.

A grump he was because, because, because!

His frowning face looked right in place and the sound HARRUMPH! fit his plump.

God of thunder some do say and not so nice but nice enough most days when he’s not eating lice.

Some funny fellow, so fat of rump. Rather slow for Lord-O-thunder, more like a lump.

But when he flies it’s gloriously fast and the God of thunder shows through at last.

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64. Polly’s ticks


I fell in love when I turned eighteen with Polly’s ticks and all her scene.

I watched her carefully with all her funny moves, her conventions so full of glee.

I was happy until the day I found Polly’s ticks were more than play.

She had dual personality at first then she split and made things worse.

She turned from ass to elephant then green and more that’s where I turned independent.

She didn’t like that at first her hunger for me to stay was as strong as desert thirst.

She phoned and wrote for years on end but I stood fast my vote my own, flying in the wind.

Polly’s ticks are still with me but not on greasy wheels. Independent still mark my seals!

Now Old Polly’s ticks have to show me exactly what and how they fix the world I know, the one I want so well to grow.

For I am blind to all but reason, no special party to make the season.

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65. Main mast …


Stem to stern awash in salt sea air and fare the wind that blows us on the port. A life of shifting steps that makes a wreck of first tried solid earth.
Sails pulled taut, no slackers here to sheer away the mainsails rigging. With the only swinging in topmast, the fluttering pennant of our master.
The taffrail a favorite spot on moonlit nights thinking of mermaids and far away sights yet unseen, the silver fish that beat the waves and flash while leaping skyward.
Smells of salt pork and beans still lingering below decks form cooks fire now turned to beating out some black smithed bobstay link to comfort the captains mind and give us all some landfall perhaps this coming Wednes day.
The cathead full with anchor weight till god delivers us up to Davey Jones or safely in snug harbor.
The rat lines sing with merry feet when the call to quarters rings. It’s up  and up she blows, lay on the sheets to hear the strain of canvas on the lines no violin could ever capture.

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66. Lovers Split to Promote Whirled Peas.


It was a marriage made in heaven!

All their friends said they shouldn’t cohabitate with one another because it would surely come to no good, that some mortal disaster would befall them both but nonetheless they were happy together until the harvest season came and were split apart because of different tastes.

Romaineo and Juliennet

Romaineo and Juliennet

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67. Things we want, things we need


When we are young we want many things and, not knowing better, think they come with no stings …

Then one day, thinking everything is dandy, we find others also want our candy …

Now share your things is what you were told, so many times you heard that scold …

But these folks are quite aggressive and seemed to have missed that missive …

And no mater what you do or what you say they just don’t know the right way to play …

Do you give up the goods to someone smaller or destroy everything because you are taller …

I say don’t be bullied but give a little to the many because if things aren’t shared there won’t be any …

You could hoard it all of course and never pay but you’ll find you may need their help some day …

So give some to the ground, some to a friend some to the water some to  the wind …

Things have a way of coming back to you, good or bad, depending on what you do …

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68. Bugs funny


Big bugs, small bugs, itsy bitsy bitey bugs …

Short bugs, tall bugs, winged wily wall bugs …

Pink bugs, green bugs , not so funny stink bugs …

Harum, Scarab, scratch a nasty flea bug …

Head bugs, bed bugs, six legs like a Bee bugs …

Funny lil round bugs rolling down the hill, you can call them Armadillidium I’ll just call them Pill.

 

 

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69. Wild Weeds


Wild weeds are like you and me in many a way, they can be unwanted or asked to stay.

Some very plain, some kind of prickly we are kind to call spiny, some so very very small we just say tiny.

Most are in places humans don’t go and never think of unless in the garden they show.

Like you or me sometimes not listened to unless they hide in someone bigger’s shoe.

But now and then a closer look is needed and that weed becomes a flower everyone wants seeded.

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70. Socialite


Are you a social light, bright in flight,  socialite who plays all night, social-lite drinking malted milk by your self with no friends in sight?

Do not worry or be in a hurry, try not to scurry, take your time and do not be blurry so you may have to say your sorry.

It’s only nature to want some friends but that depends for sometimes you have to make amends before the email sends.

And counting digits 5 at most should tell the host five friends are best if one is a ghost who likes burnt toast.

So if you flutter by like some butterfly to grace the sky but see no others upon your flight you had better try to shed more light.

PS … have you ever noticed that only when the light is off do you see your warped reflection in it?

 

 

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71. That old truck


When I was young and played in the dirt with such resource and  pluck. My friends all had tanks and planes, Dozers and Jeeps but me? OH NO I had a toy truck.

I liked being Hop-along Cassidy with six shooter in hand and shoot um up or being the banker with Monopoly money so grand yet there was something that always drew me back to that old pickup truck.

The houses and funny money were all but dust when monopoly became real but I held on to that toy truck though rust grated the steel.

I lost it some where along the way not from neglecting the tin but to a young friend it went and I think that kid played with rust till it was bright metal again.

Now I am old and had many a car, more likely a truck, but never one as fun as the one with witch I played in the muck.  

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72. Seeing little things


In ancient times when peoples of all cultures walked the earth at no more than 20 miles a day we saw more things in that 2o miles than we do in 1000 miles of driving today.

When people had to search the earth to survive they saw many things and knew them well or starved.

I think if I was born in an area, never went more than 75 miles from that spot in any direction and walked it every day searching the whole of it I would still know less than a fraction of a percent of it. There would still be many miles I would not ever see in a life time.

Once we got horses and now cars we can go many more miles to “See things” . Mostly on a quick get there and get home trip. We miss all the small things except what we have to wipe off our windshields.

It is no wonder to me that so many children never see, not really see that is, what is around them. They are taught from a very early age to look for things at a distance rather than inspect what is close at hand.

Even in the city there are little wonders to behold … if we only slow down enough to explore the things close to us.

I hope you do!

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73. Beez Kneez


I like Bee much better than Bunny.

It’s not the nose ya know, it’s the honey.

Don’t get me wrong, Bunnies are fun when they sneeze but have you ever looked at a Bees knees?

Now there is a thing to marvel, a magnificent sight! Bunnies are cute but their knees are hidden so tight.

Then you may like Kangas and Roos but you have to go to Australia or zoos.

There are Bears and we mention they’re grumpy but who cares, their knees are all lumpy.

There’s Pandas of course and then there’s the horse you say but they don’t have six knees all going a-splay.

Now I admit the Bee is plump, not like the Pig though, who’s got such a rump!

And eyes for that matter count for so little. You know Tarantula and Dragonflies are not caught in the middle!

Crabs have legs that look so askance when they walk in the mud it’s such an odd dance.

No it’s the Beez Kneez for me, this I know. Where do they go in the winter when it begins to snow?

Yup they gather the pollen on knees and bee line for home and I follow them there, to the honeycomb.

 

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74. Rain dance


I asked them what their names were and where ever had they been.

They began to dance as if in a trance and told me what they’d seen.

It all began, they said, somewhere near Atlantis in a sea of coral red.

Their parents had gone away while they were out to play with fishes.

They were sad no memories they had but to find them was what their wish is.

Searching here and there and everywhere, looking under rocks with a bit of care.

Then one day in the month of May in a desert of the Hopi, a man of great vision and wisdom

told them of a dance to set the world in a trance and their question answers would come.

So here they are , Yellow, Blue, Purple and Orange, all on my lawn in sprinklers, wet, looking just a little strange.

It is an odd sight to me but join them I did to prance and hop the dance for their mom and pop to find an answer, well hid.

You can join us all in this turtle stew and help their parents home. Just take off your socks, don’t step on the rocks and the water feels wonderful too.

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75. Bad Rat Toes


From where aweigh he came , where he went or why, nobody knows.

That nervious little  mouse they just called “Bad Rat Toes”.

Except perhaps that feral cat old “Creeping Pete” you might debrief,  who was always on the lookout for

any sneaky little thief.

I saw them while resting, Toes looking like a statue of himself while Pete looked the other way sitting high on a shelf. But you could just tell that’s not how it would stay.

Just a breath it took, a mini movement from the rat and the race was on through glen and brook, mouse in the lead followed close by cat.

Weeds were tossed and trickery played. It was so frightening, lightning fast. I stayed where I layed.

Though Pete was bigger and master of twists Toes was a digger and threw dirt with his fists.

The scuffle went awfully long then there was silence as if nothing was wrong.

After a while came Pete with a poker face but I could tell he had a slightly bigger paunch in his sleek little belly.

I never asked and Pete never said. He just curled up peacefully in his little kitten bed.

If ever they meet again though I have a feeling there will be panic that shows in the face of a mouse they called Bad Rat Toes.

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