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Hunt for Killer Cowboy Builder
Resubmission, due to lots of changes. The title was the actual headline on a sandwich board outside Debenhams at the end of December last year. I have hijacked it.
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- 994 reads
All Have Sinned
The Divine has to start somewhere......
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- 809 reads
Quilt
Ian and Richa are in school.Ian is the younger and is in the sixth grade.Richa is in the eighth grade.They both study at South Point School.Their parents are both doctors.Papa is a psychiatrist while Mama is a general practioner.Generally,the children spend their day in daycare.But the daycare centre is closed today for repair and renovation work.Hence,the children are at home today.They were tired after a hectic day at school.They however were not eager to take a nap.Instead they decided to explore the hitherto locked up attic.Papa wanted to take out some old books and had thus opened the attic.The children had no idea what was inside that room but were curious about the place.So,they ran up to the roof.Inside the attic,they found many things.There were their parents' school books,there was some old furniture,there were a few porcelain vases.All belonging to a different age and epoch.But what engaged the childrens' attention was this.It was an old quilt made of pink silk.It looked rather fancy and also appeared to have been given a thorough dusting.Richa decided to take the quilt downstairs to their room.So they did.Then,the children began to study on the quilt.Both had Maths tests the next day and were worried.But before they knew it both the kids had dozed off on the quilt.
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- 809 reads
It takes five phasmids, to make me hate you
A very strange poem. From the speed words hastate and toroid. I would not recommend them. They are hard.
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- 1499 reads
the giraffe
a 'shaped'/syllable-counted poem about a giraffe...
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- 1734 reads
Lard (a Luc Bat lament)
Greasy, clammy and cold...
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- 1920 reads
Clerihew#1: Angelina Jolie
a clerihew about Angelina Jolie
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- 1996 reads
Jimblobs obituary.
James "blob Caldwell (40) exploded today in what seems like a bizarre case of spontaneous combustion.
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- 555 reads
Green Velvet and a Winter Fire
Green velvet dressed foot curled sofaed up white wine reached between best books and most favoured poems your head rested on the chairback smiling in profile slightly outside the pool of light
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- 1366 reads
Bobbler, the pear and ladies scarves
Another of Framlinghams adventures
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- 1103 reads
Missing Muse
Geisha eyes ivory grace crimson lips precisely curved hands like a floating leaf hide a joke tender neck bowed a fan tucked into a sweep of sleeve. tea proferred perfectly and saki refilled
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- 1454 reads
Howl
I want to howl "Munch" crisp aisle scream cry til my head hurts face purples and I throw up break things smash them throw Teddy on the fire sob wet myself bang my head on the wall tear out hair
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- 1540 reads
If you like Pina Coladas and getting caught in the rain...
This is chapter six from a girly, romantic comedy novel I am working on. Three girls go on holiday to the Dominican Republic and the story tells of their adventure there. The main character, Clara, is an independent 20 year old who is single and enjoying it, until she falls for someone on holiday. It challenges her views on love and life as she meets the man of her dreams...or so she thinks.
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- 1850 reads
Goodnight
From force of light That wake me calm Bid black goodbye And demons goodnight
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- 528 reads
She read to me
and by the time she had reached the final rhyming couplet
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- 1383 reads
THOUGHTS ON ART
read this if you cinsider yourself an artist So what does it mean then to do art inspired by faith? It means to be tuned to such a degree that higher energy would flow into you; it means as an artist you have to be humble because you understand that what is given to you is not yours to have but to pass on. In this way art turns out to be an attempt to break the boundaries of day-to-day existence and self in a way that reaches out for the unreachable
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- 625 reads
Tattoo
Letter "A" across my chest A permanent tattoo Symbol of my anguish Body branded-stained with blue
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- 523 reads
Tales of the Tree
"Grandfather, the little blonde haired girl asked as she came into the room, "what's this? She held up a plain wooden box, unadorned save for heavy black hinges and an intricate lock. "Grandfather? Are you alright? The old man caught his breath as the awful fear that had clutched his heart lessened a bit.
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- 314 reads
Pictures on the Wall
Love and Loss.
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- 644 reads


