October 9, 2011

THE HELL BOUND TRAIN

A Texas cowboy lay down on a barroom floor, Having drunk so much he could drink no more; So he fell asleep with a troubled brain To dream that he rode on a hell-bound train. The engine with murderous blood was damp And was brilliantly lit with a brimstone lamp; An imp, for fuel, was shoveling bones, While the furnace rang with a thousand groans. The boiler was filled with lager beer And the devil himself was the engineer; The passengers were a most motley crew- Church member, atheist, Gentile, and Jew, Rich men in broad cloth, beggars in rags, Handsome young ladies, and withered old hags, Yellow and black men, red, brown, and white, All chained together-O God, what a sight! While the train rushed on at an awful pace- The sulphurous fumes scorched their hands and face; Wider and wider the country grew, As faster and faster the engine flew. Louder and louder the thunder crashed And brighter and brighter the lightning flashed; Hotter and hotter the air became Till the clothes were burned from each quivering frame. And out of the distance there arose a yell, “Ha, ha,” said the devil, “we’re nearing hell” Then oh, how the passengers all shrieked with pain And begged the devil to stop the train. But he capered about and danced for glee, And laughed and joked at their misery. “My faithful friends, you have done the work And the devil never can a payday shirk. “You’ve bullied the weak, you’ve robbed the poor, The starving brother you’ve turned from the door; You’ve laid up gold where the canker rust, And have given free vent to your beastly lust. “You’ve justice scorned, and corruption sown, And trampled the laws of nature down. You have drunk, rioted, cheated, plundered, and lied, And mocked at God in your hell-born pride. “You have paid full fare, so I’ll carry you through, For it’s only right you should have your due. Why, the laborer always expects his hire, So I’ll land you safe in the lake of fire, “Where your flesh will waste in the flames that roar, And my imps torment you forevermore.” Then the cowboy awoke with an anguished cry, His clothes wet with sweat and his hair standing high. Then he prayed as he never had prayed till that hour To be saved from his sin and the demon’s power; And his prayers and his vows were not in vain, For he never rode the hell-bound train. Lily
October 2, 2011

FRUITS OF DESIRE

WE ALL ENJOY OUR TASTE OF DIFFERENT THINGS IN LIFE NOW ME I REALLY ENJOY A GOOD COLD ORANGE PEELED VERY SLOWLY DOWN THE MIDDLE.THEN JUST PULL IT APART AND EAT ONE PIECE OF THE SWEET FRUIT ONE SLICE AT TIME SAVORY THE JUICE AS IT DRIPS DOWN MY CHIN SOMETIMES MY HAND AND ARM BUT ITS SO GOOD I HAVE TO SAY.IT DOESN’T MATTER IF IT GETS ALL OVER ME I JUST LICK IT ALL AWAY LOL NOW LOOK AT YOU GET THAT MIND OUT OF THE GUTTER I WAS TALKING ABOUT A ORANGE HERE EVEN TOOK A PIC  TO PROVE IT LAUGHING . MOMMY LORRAINE
May 30, 2011

Grannies Sissy Baby

She calls crying i ask what is wrong but she is crying so hard i can barely understand what she is trying to tell me so i ask her to come on over since she just lives down the street from me. So i get the tea pot ready for some nice hot tea i know she will be needing.Just as the teapot makes that cute little sound knocks i just yell out come on in hon. She walks on in the kitchen as i turn around i almost fell to my knees laughing there she stood with one of the most aweful looking outfits on. I walked over and tell her it will be fine i will help her choose another outfit for her night out.So this is what we choose for her.Poor little sissy needs all the help she can get laughing. silvie Just remember little one’s i am here for all your sensual and sexual and fantasy needs just call me anytime.
February 7, 2011

The Cat and the Moon

The cat went here and there and the moon spun round like a top, and the nearest kin of the moon, the creeping cat, looked up. Black Minnaloushe stared at the moon, for, wander and wail as he would, the pure cold light in the sky troubled his animal blood. Minnaloushe runs in the grass lifting his delicate feet. Do you dance, Minnaloushe, do you dance? When two close kindred meet, what better than call a dance? Maybe the moon may learn, tired of that courtly fashion, a new dance turn Minnaloushe creeps through the grass from moonlit place to place, the sacred moon overhead has taken a new phase. Does Minnaloushe know that his pupils will pass from change to change, and that from round to crescent, from crescent to round they range? Minnaloushe creeps through the grass alone, important and wise, and lifts to the changing moon his changing eyes. William Butler Yeats (1865-1939) Lorraine
October 11, 2010

Cloony The Clown

I’ll tell you the story of Cloony the Clown Who worked in a circus that came through town. His shoes were too big and his hat was too small, But he just wasn’t, just wasn’t funny at all. He had a trombone to play loud silly tunes, He had a green dog and a thousand balloons. He was floppy and sloppy and skinny and tall, But he just wasn’t, just wasn’t funny at all. And every time he did a trick, Everyone felt a little sick. And every time he told a joke, Folks sighed as if their hearts were broke. And every time he lost a shoe, Everyone looked awfully blue. And every time he stood on his head, Everyone screamed, “Go back to bed!” And every time he made a leap, Everybody fell asleep. And every time he ate his tie, Everyone began to cry. And Cloony could not make any money Simply because he was not funny. One day he said, “I’ll tell this town How it feels to be an unfunny clown.” And he told them all why he looked so sad, And he told them all why he felt so bad. He told of Pain and Rain and Cold, He told of Darkness in his soul, And after he finished his tale of woe, Did everyone cry? Oh no, no, no, They laughed until they shook the trees With “Hah-Hah-Hahs” and “Hee-Hee-Hees.” They laughed with howls and yowls and shrieks, They laughed all day, they laughed all week, They laughed until they had a fit, They laughed until their jackets split. The laughter spread for miles around To every city, every town, Over mountains, ‘cross the sea, From Saint Tropez to Mun San Nee. And soon the whole world rang with laughter, Lasting till forever after, While Cloony stood in the circus tent, With his head drooped low and his shoulders bent. And he said,”THAT IS NOT WHAT I MEANT – I’M FUNNY JUST BY ACCIDENT.” And while the world laughed outside. Cloony the Clown sat down and cried. by Shel Silverstein Lorraine
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