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When I think about my home, I am home
I can feel the texture of my couch
The feeling of closeness of living in my dome
Just like the warmth of a kangaroo pouch

I can smell the passiflora, spicy and strong
Or the fragrance of my son’s Just Joey rose
The purple and orange colors mixed along
Where the bright green leaves grows

I see the sticker on my wall
‘Did you already smiled today’
A great big smile or just some small
Received one or gave a few away

But most of all when I think of home
I see my children and my man
That’s where my heart is wherever I roam
That is where my love began

The philosophy of the pavement edge

ThePhilosophy

Let me tell you about my philosophy
Of the pavement edge
It is just my private prophecy
It is a very narrow ledge

We are all standing at the same height
A pedestal does not exist
We all are in our own right
It’s a belief with a twist

There’s nothing higher than the pavement
But you sure can fall down deep
This is my clear and proper statement
So don’t you go playing on the steep

There is only one way to fall in the gutter
It is caused by your own stupidity
So don’t you start to mutter
Unless you are obsessed with your morbidity

I can not push you from this ledge
The only way that you can slip
Of that famous pavement edge
Is to totally lose your grip

And because once you fell way down below
You are never gonna get up again
This is something you should know
There will be no time to complain

So before you judge and make your statement
Please think before you speak
Cause once gone from that pavement
There’s nothing more to seek

It’s Time

ItsTime

Everytime I see you
You’ve got something on your mind
Thoughts you really need to tell
Some gossip you hide behind

You spray your poison
Your despicable judgement of all
Your low opinion of people
Destined for a high fall

I’ve had enough of your convictions
It’s time for you to leave
I’ll close my door and send you on
I give you no more chance to deceive

I will free myself of all your negativity
Your so-called pains and sorrow
All the heartless words you spill
I’ll wake up reassured tomorrow

I have done the righteous thing
To remove you from my life
To enjoy the nice things around
To really feel as I’m alive

Because I don’t like to be sucked in
The eery feeling of the night
The dark mentality you have
I’d rather go into to the light

Amazing Blogger: Marijke!

She is my stephdaughter-in-law.
She is joy.
She is fun.
She is crazy.
She is amazing.
Just Patty is her name.
And she is the most endearing girl I ever met.
I love her to pieces.

petitemagique

Every week I want to share an amazing blogger with you all, so you can check out their blogs and maybe make some new friends!

All of these bloggers have amazed me with their art, kind heart, friendship and skills.

You ready? Here we go!

Marijke

Meet Marijke

–> http://ceadomile.com/ <–

A little about Marijke

I am Marijke,

I am creative, I write poems in English and short stories in Dutch, I paint and I read (all day long).

Sometimes I love to be the devil’s advocate. I am one of two extremes.

But I am also caring and a lover of life.

(She forgets to mention that’s she’s my stepmother in law as well) 😉

Marijke makes enchanting art that she combines with beautiful words.

A couple of my favorites:

drowninsorrow

It is so easy to drown in your sorrow

 It is so easy to always feel your pain

 It is…

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Dragon at the door

DragonAtTheDoor

I am the dragon at the door
To keep my loved ones save
I have said it once before
That you really need to behave

On the top of my tower
The only thing I require
Is supernatural power
I’m puffing and breathing fire

If you draw my blood
I shall slay your head
I will spit my fire flood
You have everything to dread

Don’t come near my lair
I’m rushing from my cave
It’s better you don’t even dare
But well…

maybe…

you are that brave

Too much

TooMuch

I don’t know what to think anymore
My brain is way too full
It’s hard to handle or ignore
That constant tear and pull

It doesn’t matter where you look
On the telly or in the streets
In a magazine or small book
On a bench or under the sheets

Wherever I go I hear the hum
Of too much information
The constant beating of the drum
It’s an unbearable situation

I’d like to hear myself think
Of wonderful conception
To write it down in indelible ink
The reality of my perception

But alas it isn’t meant to be
My skull is way to small
My crazy thoughts can’t flow free
There is no space at all

Drown in sorrow

DrownInSorrow

 

It is so easy to drown in your sorrow
It is so easy to always feel your pain
It is so easy to forget about tomorrow
It is so easy to only see the rain

I tried my best to let you see
That there always is a future
An open heart that is the key
A loving smile a binding suture

But you closed your eyes
For all the good I have sen7
You wouldn’t accept my advice
You choose to not be my friend

My heart is full, my mind is clear
I did the best I could
You really were never here
But I still wished you would

The Psychologist

Psycologist

“Good afternoon, please ma’am, sit down. Take it easy. Put your feet on the sofa and tell me what’s wrong. ”

The psychologist pulls a leather armchair closer and puts a notepad on his lap. With his pen poised, he looks at me kindly.

I melt away under the approving look in his eyes. Confused and rubicund I start to stutter. Oh dear, how can I talk myself out of here now. I really do not want to tell him what is bothering me. However, my GP thought it was best I would bring a visit to a psychologist to organize my thoughts. Since I couldn’t blame him, I plucked up courage and here I am. On the sofa with the psychologist. If it had been an old unattractive guy I could have managed to squeeze me through, but this psychologist is a piece of art. The girls among us probably know what I mean. Just a hunk, the kind where you might want to bite a piece of. Where you, with great pleasure, might want to put your hands on his buttocks and have a nice squeeze. Having fun, hmmm.

And so I have a major problem. Because how can you tell such a good looking piece that you get spontaneously a soaking wet cunt when seeing this kind of fine specimen. So much so that it would be better to wear panty liners to prevent the visibility of snails tracks. I close my eyes and try to avoid a wet spot on the sofa.

I try to banish all thoughts of him and think of crazy, ugly and scary things. I look around and see a prickly cactus on his desk. It is an ugly thing, and the spines should not induce erotic thoughts, but if I take a good look at the form of the cactus, I can suddenly vividly imagine how that thing goes up and down inside me. Ohhh I feel my juices all flow. Oh no, I shake my head to banish those thoughts and focus on something else.

Behind the desk on the wall are frames with the usual qualifications, but also one in which the psychologist proudly stands with a huge carp in his hands. I hate fish, but when I see the careless way the rod leans against him, I realize that you can make a delicious whip with a swishing tip. Ohhh my juices now flow much faster and I squeeze my legs tight together. Come on girl, think of something else. I swallow with difficulty and try to think about something else.

I look at the psychologist and see a hideous tie loosely knotted around his neck and suddenly imagine how it is draped around my eyes and knotted behind my head so I can’t see. I realize that it might not be such a bad idea because everywhere I look, I see something that makes me horny. I slowly start panting and really do my best to find somewhere else to think about. Suddenly I hear background music: a piece by Bach and spontaneously my clit starts pulsate to the beat. Neehee, I close my eyes and try to make my thoughts empty.

I turn my head and see the horrible brown shoes with shoelaces of the psychologist. In my mind I see those shoelaces grow until they become long ropes and that I love being tied up in a seductive position. Oh, what did I do today. I can think about nothing else. I get startled when I feel a hand on my arm.

“Little Miss, are you okay? Your time is up. Shall we make a new appointment for next week? Same time, same place? ”

I give him a radiant smile and I am glad I got through this session unscathed.

Of course good looking hunk, I think, of course I come back next week.

‘Cause nothing else mattered

CauseNothingElseMattered

I try and I try again
I will not give up hope
But every time I try
I’ll cling to a fragile rope

The illusionist can let that rope
So easily disappear
My heart is drenched in sadness
My shattered confidence in fear

The disappointment is cutting deep
Everytime anew
When I realize that my beliefs
And the things I regard as true

Are nothing more then a vision
Of a perfect world that doesn’t exist
Of make-believe and fairytales
Of fortune that I wished

All that’s left is sadness
Every illusion shattered
But still I try again
‘Cause nothing else mattered