Monthly Archives: September 2012


Be true to your love when it starts to rain

It will weigh you down bringing antagonizing pain

We all suffer a bit different

Some hold it together quite well

As for others they seek solitary

A compartment in which to crawl

Tenderness in somewhere to lay down and dwell


Not anywhere to fear the past, present or future

Just a place to hide for when they want nothing to do with it all

An accommodating fortress that will whsiper security

The closets beneath the stairs that has muzzled many of their cares

Wicker baskets for clothing swaddling every worry away

The alcove in the barn shutting out the troubling day

The rumbling engine on the frame with wheels and the tunes

Cranking the stereo making their dreams feel real without pending doom


We all get through life a bit different

We all see things more clear

When we do one of the things

That make our freedom seem real

It’s the fact of the matter

Freedom only comes with the pleasure

Of simple things that remind us of everything that we treasure


So sit back and enjoy life

Don’t spare any thoughts

To the tormenting troubles

That each ones of us got


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Filed under 2012, canada, journal, life, personal, poems, POEMS & SHORT STORIES, poetry, writing

To Remain Untitled

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September 16, 2012 · 6:55 am

Fancy K Speaks

“Promoting poetry I write as Fancy Khaos, whom has been a personality of mine that has grown over the years and has nearly consumed me.”

Fancy K Speaks The only podcast where every word is felt and every thought is heard. 
Website: Like us on Facebook: and
or follow on Twitter 

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September 14, 2012 · 3:16 am


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Sometimes people just don’t understand what it’s like
To be haunted by death
To be haunted by life

To people without this unfathomable gift
It can’t be turned off like any button or switch
It follows you everywhere, wherever you go
It’s like a misunderstood web fan or lousy night stalker
You can hear it and see it
Sometimes taste it and smell it.
However the fear originates in the touching
It can take over your head and not ever once mind.
Do you know what it’s like to talk to the dead alive?
To know things without lecture?
To smell an idea or thought?
To hear silent treatment?
To see the kettle say “You’re black,” to the pot?
These are my everyday pleasures
But they are nothing I want
I crave to unknow the truth
Wishing for screaming of silence
Desperate for a blank canvas to watch as the beautiful sun rises
When you have it, you hate it
If inexperienced, you’re jealous
Sometimes things to be studied are better off when unguided.

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Filed under 2012, canada, death, journal, life, paranormal, personal, poems, POEMS & SHORT STORIES, poetry, writing


Sometimes we just have to give up

Divulge ourselves in the basking dusk

There’s a pain so deep that can’t be written with words

A pain that makes you wish to freeze the whole world

My mother raised me to stand alone

If ever came a day when I would be on my own

Now that a loss of sweet symphonies has come along

I can’t fathom the pain for what it brings on

A broken window doesn’t need replacing

Simply change the glass in the casing

But with the makeup of genes and the impossibility of reversing aging

Mortality ensues and your personalities leave with you.

No wonder fear is brought on by the unknown of one’s dying

A lot of hours will be spent in your new destination

You’ll have a good excuse now for procrastination

Sorry you’re gone and know you’re now well

Glad that your pain has deceased; you’re no longer going through hell

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Filed under 2012, canada, death, friendship, journal, life, personal, poems, POEMS & SHORT STORIES, poetry, tributes, writing

Deaf preschooler asked to change his name

gnostic bent

School asks deaf preschooler to change his sign language name | The Lookout – Yahoo! News.

Here’s a story that could go down in the “ridiculous beyond belief” file.

The Grand Island Public School system in Nebraska has asked a deaf preschooler to change his sign language name because it resembles a weapon and violates school policy.

Hunter Spanjer, 3, has registered his name with S.E.E. (Signing Exact English). When he signs it, the gesture vaguely resembles someone shooting two pistols, even though his fingers are crossed.

Come on. The kid’s name is “Hunter,” for goodness sake.

What’s worse is that other, non-deaf children can make the “real” gesture in school and not get caught unless a teacher sees them. By contrast, this represents Hunter’s identity. How can it be wrong?

School administrators are currently working on a solution with Hunter’s parents, but I tell you…

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Angela Lansbury’s “Positive Moves” Workout Video

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