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Sleep

The sound of heavy breathing -

no,

not breathing,

panting -

pierces my ears.

Perhaps this sound

would be quiet to most,

But to my ears

it is like a bomb

destroying all peace.

*

Hands quivering - 

no,

not quivering, 

shaking - 

Making control of any movement

impossible.

*

As my gasping breaths recede, 

As my hands hold each other tightly,

as if holding onto the last shred of reality,

I allow all thoughts, 

all past knowledge, 

all memories, 

to fade

into a sharp, yet numbing

background.

*

Eyes, 

Soaked in a salty ocean,

at last begin to close.

*

A blanket, 

softer than snow, 

covers my consciousness,

and for the first time since the accident,

I escape.

                                     - Sara

()

Red

Red is life.

It is blood pulsing through veins.

The color of deeply saturated lips,

on a night sparkling with promise.

Like a rose in the peak of summer,

a finely polished nail against a black satin dress.

*

Red is death.

Every minute it grows

as it escapes the prison of flesh

and explores the freckles of my skin.

The stench, the toe-curling odor,

as a once strong drum in my body falters.

As substantial at birth

as death.

Red.

                           - Sara

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To Football

Football is youthful dreams

Of Gordon Banks and Georgie Best

Of Manchester United and Old Trafford

Of grass and balls and rocks for posts

Of playing til the sun goes down

Of living, breathing and thinking of nothing else

*

Football is a young man’s hope

Of making the team, saving a goal, winning the game

Of being goalie on my high school squad

Of practising with my college team

Of having other goals, the military, a career, a family

Of moving on and moving away

*

Football is a man’s wish

Of playing with friends and being tired

Of playing seriously and being sore for days

Of showing up when no one else did

Of watching, cheering, screaming

Of knowing why nil-nil can be a great game

And why a supporting run was made or a triangle formed

Of sadly understanding more than my American family

*

Football is an old man’s memory

Of Giggsy scoring on a mazy run

Of Law bicycling over his head,

And causing defeat with a cheeky back heel

Of Fergie bowing to the Stretford End

Of Howard thronged in Asia, walking unknown in his hometown

Of Posh and Becks in my favorite movie

Of watching Chelsea beat in an English hotel

Of mourning a disaster from before I was born

Of goals scored, goals saved and goals changed

*

For me, Football has always been, still is, and always will be

The Greatest Show on Earth

                                                                                    — Bernard Wilkerson

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Ode to the 20 Piece Chicken Nuggets for 4.99

Ode to the 20 Piece Chicken Nuggets for 4.99

 

Ode to the 20 piece chicken nuggets for 4.99

So humbly you present yourself with such a modest fine

So unjustly you are looked down upon by those silly pompous vegetarians

Oh, they are simply jealous grocery shopping barbarians

Jealous of the designer label that adorns the treasure chest in which you rest

No vegetarian will ever earn the privilege of wearing those golden arches on their breasts

And neither will those free range animal breeding

Artificial hormone-less skinny cow raising

Lowly farmers or their paranoid customers

Planting under the sun all summer

Humans – the most intelligent beings on the planet – celebrate you

They make movies about you

They take beauty shots of your crispy exterior 

That breaks into your steamy white fleshy interior

I break the threshold of the ordinary 

Every time I bite into your savory mouthwatering body 

You may not know your tremendous authority

Because you blend so naturally in to the American society

However, body guards surround you in your every move

They are great men dressed in expensive suits

To defend you against the activist cooks (“coocoo”)

who write lengthy legislations and ridiculous books

But why are the American people trying to shoo

It hurts our economy when profits fall through

I guess they simply can not see 

The bigger picture past obesity

Animal cruelty

And I guess an unhealthy reality

But to that I say, “What about profitability!”

You’re so economically friendly

You provide for the common family

And may I note, rather rapidly

So ignore what the future may hold

Those warnings can get so very old

It’s better to keep some secrets untold

That way there’s excitement as the story unfolds

With you front and center of the arches made of gold

So sit back

Get fat

Then squeeze those colons out right flat

Because who freaking gives a shat?

-Soo

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My Favorite Shoes

My love’s like my favorite shoes,

Paired with my favorite jeans.

My love is like chocolate cake,

with a hefty scoop of vanilla ice cream.

*

My shoes have holes and dark, brown stains.

My jeans cling a bit too tight.

My cake will crumble carelessly,

And rest in a melted creamy plight.

*

In time our love might stumble and fall,

Perhaps it will rip at the seams.

Our love might be devoured by night,

our passion melted by the light of new dreams.

*

I cannot predict the path we will tread,

or how our love shall wear.

I can only give my love to you

And cherish the time we share.

                - Sara Tremmel

♥————-COMMENT————-♥

Soo: I love this (:

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I wrote poems til late

Haven’t done that since high school

But it was still fun

 

                                                             — Bernard

 

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Thought Process

Think of something that holds some meaning within your poem writing as of right now I’m am thinking about my special yellow labrador Mickey and he was such a great dog and it is making my Ode very easy to write and now I have a flow of ideas coming to me. What is something that is precious to you?

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[creative] writing

Writing is external; creativity is internal. Lets put two and two together ;)

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