My first internet memory
this brings me to the
introduction of the
tutorial study through
the google online
surfing with the
fascinating of
opportunity to acquire
for a learning desire in
a science technology
of today’s global world
This interest starts from the
online searching to discover
unlimited learning ability tools
like an encyclopedia collection
with the resource information
for one share a broad
knowledge of understanding
through the adventure of

Holding the derringer,
through the peep hole she spied,
her woeful tears now had dried,
turned full of rage over loose lips that lied.

His fingers now trace the curves of another.
Though she was aware from the start,
it didn't stop him from stealing her heart.
Until suddenly, their ways did part.

Silently, she watched from her hiding place,
the other's eyes so sinfully blue,
the mistress wondered how she'd do,
with a bullet to that beautiful face.

No whining, or crying or pitching a fit
we are no longer able
to tolerate it
You say it's depression,
but we want you just to quit
Speaking in anger
it does us no good
Your illness incurable,
but we won't accommodate it
So pull your big boots on
and get on with it!
Put on a good face
and act like you should
Accomplish something, anything
doesn’t it make you feel good?
You can't sullenly sit there
without taking a hit
So get up out of bed
and deal with it!

My cell phone battery is low;
It's almost dying.
Every minute counts.
Wise decisions must be made:
Who to call?
What to do?
All is critical.

With seconds ticking away,
I decide to read Neopoet.

The sun was in its benefactive climb,
as was the moonscape of my dreaming.

And though I was not conscious
of the real world of the sun,
I was of all worlds.

Through the patterned
window of the universe
the sun came to my pane
and said, "arise,
I bring a beautiful day."

I came to breakfast
and found in my house momentary solitude,
and of this did I nourish the morning.

Weightless
Written by Kelly Ann Wilson

What if every ounce of pain
Rose out of my body
And dispersed into the atmosphere
Where it wouldn’t be too much
For one being to hold

What if I find the balance
Of gentle compassion
And requisite accountability
So that I count too
At least as much as he does

What if I hold it in the forefront of my mind
That my mom and dad
Were so young
And took on so much
And built everything we had
With their own hands

The artist tells a story
with every peak of impasto

Conveys an emotion
with every brushstroke

Long and smooth,
An exhale
Short and fierce
A shout

And poets,
with every word they write,
paint a picture in the reader’s mind,
Unmask their feelings in every line…

So, take a breath at every stanza
Exhale every punctuation
And keep your mind wide open

These are the brushstrokes of my mind.

I'm running on five percent,
A frame that is worn and bent,
Should I expect less?
Eighty years of excess.
A price worth paying for the bodies rent.

My brain says 100 percent,
It screams at me every day,
I do crosswords, read books,
Write poems and cook,
But my brain ain't my body, OK?

So my mind may be running just fine,
But my body lives under a cloud;
Muscles, they ache,
Joints scroop as I take
Hunched steps with my daddy's old cane.

I'm in a constant state of anxiety
I'm scared to even inhale sometimes
I worry,
I'll do something wrong

I feel like,
My entire life,
Is just a constant state of apology.

I'm sorry I breathe.
I'm sorry I'm here.

I didn't ask to be alive

The summer sun had set, the stars filled up the sky.

They sat out on the front porch, he asked the reasons why.

“I think it’s best” was her reply, “There’s nothing more to say.”

“We’ve talked about this all day long, there’s just no other way...”

Egos bruised and feelings hurt when everything goes wrong,

The good times seemed so very short, the bad times too damn long...

With that he walked away, to where he didn’t know,

But tomorrow he will pack a bag, get on a bus and go...