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The End of the Line

  • May. 4th, 2008 at 12:07 PM
Strings

I remember when I was 23 years old. My body was like a perfect mean machine. There was nothing I couldn’t do with it, be it jump, run, wrestle, swim, etc. You name it, I could do it with flying colors. I thought myself as an indestructible Superman who feared no green Kryptonite. As I aged gradually, I got wiser and understood that this machine would some day reach the end of the line.

The following poem describes very well the fact that there will be a time when the journey will be all over. At this moment, I can’t recall the author’s name of this touching piece of literature, or where I stumbled into it. I apologize in advance for not giving credit to its author.

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T’was The Day Before Easter…

  • Mar. 23rd, 2008 at 10:27 AM
Charley Brown

Navigating through the Net is always a pleasant experience. No matter what day it is, you can bet that a gratifying surprise will be waiting for you. There are so many nice people writing beautiful posts for your enjoyment. Sometimes there are pictures that will knock your socks off.

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Strings

She was born free on the green hills of South Africa in 1789. At the young age of 21 she was lured away from her home in Cape Town onto a ship bound for England. She was promised that in Europe she would be famous and wealthy.

The promised riches did not materialize. Instead, she spent the last short years of her life on public display in England and France as a sexual freak and an example of the inferiority of African races.

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A Christmas Poem

  • Dec. 16th, 2005 at 6:57 AM
Omar Upegui R.


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Soldiers have always played a protective role, since the birth of the nation, in the Independence War against the British under the leadership of General George Washington. Thanks to the revolutionary soldiers, it was possible to give birth to a new nation in 1776. Ever since, The United States of America has participated in military operations around the world to protect the American Way. The American soldier is the gate keeper of the nation, and has sacrificed his life to defend the basic democratic traditions set forth by the founding fathers. Today, I have selected a patriotic poem written by Midnight Frost that honors the American soldier under the context of the Christmas Holidays.



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The Dance of Life

  • Oct. 31st, 2005 at 8:52 AM
Charley Brown
This poem was written by a girl who suffered a terminal illness in a hospital and viewed life as a slow dance. This is her poem.

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SLOW DANCE
Have you ever watched kids
On a merry-go-round?
Or listened to the rain
Slapping on the ground?
Ever followed a butterfly’s erratic flight?
Or gazed at the sun into the fading night?

You better slow down.
Don’t dance so fast.
Time is short.
The music won’t last.

Do you run through each day On the fly?
When you ask How are you?
Do you hear the reply?
When the day is done
Do you lie in your bed
With the next hundred chores
Running through your head?

You’d better slow down
Don’t dance so fast.
Time is short.
The music won’t last.

Ever told your child,
We’ll do it tomorrow?
And in your haste,
Not see his sorrow?
Ever lost touch,
Cause you never had time
To call and say,”hi”

You’d better slow down.
Don’t dance so fast.
Time is short.
The music won’t last.

When you run so fast to get somewhere
You miss half the fun of getting there.
When you worry and hurry through your day,
It is like an unopened gift….
Thrown away.
Life is not a race.
Do take it slower
Hear the music
Before the song is over.


I’d like to take this opportunity to admit that I'm guilty of rushing too much, and now am slowing down to focus on quality over quantity. I know it sounds like a cliché but it is true.

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The Charm of Words

  • Oct. 28th, 2005 at 9:58 AM
Omar Upegui R.
For many people, words have an extraordinary emotional impact. Poets have a way of reaching very deep inside of us. In Russia, for example, poets are considered public icons, just like Hollywood movie stars in the United States. Today, being a TGIF, I thought it would be proper to include a poem about shooting the moon. Here it goes, I hope you enjoy it.


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Unspoken

  • Oct. 20th, 2005 at 9:30 AM
Omar Upegui R.
Yesterday, while surfing the Blogosphere, I had the priviledge of reading this miniature poem written by blogger The Gripes of Wrath from the United Kingdom. It is small, it is simple, it is touching. Enjoy
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