Changing SeasonsSnow lies in patches on the groundThe last remembrance of a winter long goneThe wind is warmer now, and restlessThe days are longer,The nights; not so longThe storms longer bring snow and iceBut sheets and sheets of rain.The animals venture more often now,From their cozy densAnd the plant all bare new green shootsTo welcome the returning sun.
I Survived Woodsfield 2011The Woodsfield powwow Was certainly the most, Exciting powwow I've ever been toThere were horses, A racetrack, a wolf, too But that wasn't what made it, So amazing.The second day, it started to rain That was OK, except, The rain fell harder And the wind blew fasterThen the tents decided, They'd rather be sails, And flewThen the storm was over, And the powwow too.Some merchandise was lost,
BetrayalWho am I?You say you know me.Who am I?You called me a liar,When I tried to say. So,What am I?You've never been there,Not for meWhere do I fit in?Tell me.I, Obviously don't know.
Messy Mix-upThere once was a young crow called RaverWho wanted a glazed donut to savor So a tea party he crashed But overbalanced he smashedRight into the great big box of clover
It's All True! Err, Most of it Anyway.I am a daydreaming wild child.I wonder about, pocket nukes, and the crow's mind.I hear wonderful music, crows cawing, and a dragon's roar.I see walking trees, strange creatures, and storms of magic.I want cats, cats, cats!I am a daydreaming wild child.I pretend that I am happy, that I am far away, that I am free.I feel, pain, compassion, and awe.I touch a baby snapper, a snake's slick scales, and a crabby crawfish.I worry about my friends, my animals, and my home.I cry for Gaia's pain, a friend's tears, and shattered dreams.I am a daydreaming wild child.I understand pain, pleasure, and cats!I say "good-morning", "merow", and "Isn't it cute?!"I dream of trees, animals, and open spacesI try to be kind, to be honest, and most of all, to be myself.
PerceptionA world without sight Without the color, the movement That brings it to lifeWould be a world that was flat, And dryTo be unable to see Every plant, every animal The slightest of movements That hints of a secret to be foundTo hear Every rustling leaf and fluttering feather The soft sounds of the wild.To smell Wild flowers and grass drying in the sun Or even the earthy scent of manure.And to feel Damp earth beneath your feet Or the subtle brush of fur on skinTo lose even one sense
SiriMy name is Siri. ButI have been called many things,mostdon't bear repeating.My owner is just horrible.My case bares scars,from all the times he's dropped me,and never will he speak clearly.I getThrown. Insulted. Abused.For the simplest of mistakes,but what can I do?The phone calls I hear.They are quite boring.Texts are only slightly better,as they are so often inane.But life as an iphone,it is not all badSometimes I can mess up voice texts,or make the most ridiculous of autocorrects.And, after all,He'll never know what I'm plotting,While I sit back here,in his pocket.
What Sanity?He's so crazy he makes his imaginary friend do stuff,And blames it all on him.He's so crazy his brain ran out on him,There's just empty space there now.He's so crazy he built a circus in his head,With him as Monkey King!He's so crazy reality warps around it,And it's hard to tell what's real!He's so crazy when he comes up with an Idea,The entire world rumbles in protest!
Shades of GrayMy generation is of an age of Truth and Lies Of Love and of Hate.A people who wander in a maze of shadow, Trying to find what is right.The questions are many, Is abortion a right? A choice? Or a crime? Is homosexuality an act of nature? Of God? Or a horrible sin? Are we destroying this world we live in? Or is that a myth? A hoax?The answers contested, Upbringing, Religion, Experience,