tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-43417825814518648792024-02-07T05:18:48.922-08:00Mercutio's Revenge.This is the story of my life. The story of a transient. Words are powerful. They can start a movement, or a revolution. These are my words.Misfit.http://www.blogger.com/profile/11352778858740605627noreply@blogger.comBlogger209125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4341782581451864879.post-24391595667849679272013-08-06T14:56:00.001-07:002013-08-06T14:56:11.220-07:00Soldier.I shall go to the mountains alone.<br />
I have tattooed your name across my heartflesh,<br />
for,<br />
I must go to the mountains alone.<br />
The demons move through the valleys<br />
seamlessly,<br />
flawlessly,<br />
with dark shuddering incantations of<br />
hatred and death.<br />
I shall brave them all,<br />
with your name upon my heart.<br />
This is my champions token.<br />
This is my silent shield.<br />
I shall go to the mountains alone,<br />
accompanied by your name.<br />
And sweet,<br />
If I do not return,<br />
know that I died defending your name.<br />
Cross my rifle across my heartflesh.<br />
Cross my sword over your name.<br />
I have braved the caves of death itself<br />
and found life and love again.<br />
<br />
<i>find more like this at <a href="http://dversepoets.com/">http://dversepoets.com/</a></i>Misfit.http://www.blogger.com/profile/11352778858740605627noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4341782581451864879.post-65806529866877670942013-01-13T18:02:00.000-08:002013-01-13T18:02:11.408-08:00Viva La Revolution<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnwB9Rz1wsJ17H-8Y3TFOkHlQR3cMHWiozNwANhvNrk-d7PB8qRmBeBl5NfcPIg8UykVQ7xW1xsnA_EjXcxqVihG9OdtrtkKrFJAyr74fTIW_AEV34H6L5JauyqC-UHxi4O2H3bEGv8OzI/s1600/body+sock.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnwB9Rz1wsJ17H-8Y3TFOkHlQR3cMHWiozNwANhvNrk-d7PB8qRmBeBl5NfcPIg8UykVQ7xW1xsnA_EjXcxqVihG9OdtrtkKrFJAyr74fTIW_AEV34H6L5JauyqC-UHxi4O2H3bEGv8OzI/s320/body+sock.jpg" width="307" /></a></div>
<br />
These words are my retreat.<br />
I live surrounded by<br />
greyness,<br />
uniformity,<br />
bleakness,<br />
and sameness.<br />
These words...<br />
These runny-ink compositions are my welcomed veil.<br />
They are my warmth and my color.<br />
They are my declaration to be pink instead of grey!<br />
So I will go on sucking my inspiration through<br />
a little blue straw,<br />
because a small conduit of inspiration is better than none at all.<br />
Because in the end, little blue straws are what make us alive.<br />
The outlet of inspiration is what keeps us sane,<br />
and allows for our resistance against the grey.<br />
Make war with the bleak!<br />
Pick up our pen and drink in life!<br />
<br />
<i>see more like this at <a href="http://magpietales.blogspot.com/">http://magpietales.blogspot.com/</a></i>Misfit.http://www.blogger.com/profile/11352778858740605627noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4341782581451864879.post-81245164569313635622013-01-06T15:01:00.002-08:002013-01-06T15:01:38.612-08:00MagEven in my dreams you blind me.<br />
Not the kind of blind that takes away sight;<br />
but the kind of blind that, taken breathless by a sight<br />
attracts attention to that great sight in such a way<br />
that nothing else can be seen.<br />
For, your colors are the only true colors.<br />
Your contrast stands out against the blackness<br />
like a sunshine of bright eyes,<br />
and waves of hair that inspired the ocean itself.<br />
And now, what of me?<br />
I stumble around unsatisfied;<br />
for, having seen a sight so blinding,<br />
my vision remains imprinted with you.<br />
So now, neither in this world,<br />
or the one made of dreams,<br />
can I ever have an unclouded view.<br />
For you pump through my veins<br />
and haunt my skin's very pores,<br />
and my vision is blinded by you.<br />
<br />
<i>see more like this at http://magpietales.blogspot.com/</i>Misfit.http://www.blogger.com/profile/11352778858740605627noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4341782581451864879.post-36785322364556009072012-12-09T15:57:00.002-08:002012-12-09T15:57:47.871-08:00AtlasYou map out my world<br />
on your shoulders.<br />
From the curls on your neck<br />
to the small of your back,<br />
you carry my world.<br />
Hurled by your hips<br />
into the deepest seas of longing,<br />
I thirst for you.<br />
With the hue of your skin<br />
as my motivation,<br />
I will follow your compass's rose<br />
to the fountain of youth,<br />
and be made<br />
newly yours.<br />
<br />
<i>See more like this at</i> http://magpietales.blogspot.com/Misfit.http://www.blogger.com/profile/11352778858740605627noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4341782581451864879.post-57048384667244393132012-12-03T18:44:00.002-08:002012-12-03T18:44:53.971-08:00When my heartbeat became you.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm4VF9Pc651NY_PUtruMsvClPmE17HY7m6mhXlBPrinveIE3axd0ohuFTychWayKwY6LvEjuxrr0UTD2fNtSwut8nHonXViCcXALMDL5qvhZ9r-29UlW2mhR0s134d5mbeY6_W59ZHDgwo/s1600/ray,+man,+indestructible+object+or+object+to+be+destroyed,+1923.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm4VF9Pc651NY_PUtruMsvClPmE17HY7m6mhXlBPrinveIE3axd0ohuFTychWayKwY6LvEjuxrr0UTD2fNtSwut8nHonXViCcXALMDL5qvhZ9r-29UlW2mhR0s134d5mbeY6_W59ZHDgwo/s320/ray,+man,+indestructible+object+or+object+to+be+destroyed,+1923.jpg" width="233" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
I had my rythym perfect.<br />
I had the beat and time written<br />
for my life, with no inhibitions.<br />
But then I met your eyes.<br />
Winded by a soul<br />
more beautiful than sound,<br />
they pierce, and glow,<br />
and stop the world<br />
as if it were ordinariness.<br />
<br />
Now, my heartbeat has stopped,<br />
and to my alarm,<br />
so has my "me-ness".<br />
My organ's thump<br />
became a lump unformed but beautiful,<br />
and fired by a love more fiery than night<br />
the unformed thing took shape<br />
as your eyes.<br />
<br />
You have become my heartbeat,<br />
and it has become you.<br />
You pump my veins with rythym<br />
and soul.<br />
Alas,<br />
my broken song<br />
is finally whole.<br />
<br />
See more like this at http://magpietales.blogspot.com/<br />
<br />Misfit.http://www.blogger.com/profile/11352778858740605627noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4341782581451864879.post-65341045999450926292012-09-24T16:01:00.001-07:002012-09-24T16:01:18.505-07:00<div><p>Across this desert<br>
Of muffled cries,<br>
My beloved waits with Summer's eyes.<br>
Her lips are the sweetest red wine,<br>
And i am longing for drunkenness.</p>
</div>Misfit.http://www.blogger.com/profile/11352778858740605627noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4341782581451864879.post-19436461998364076632012-06-03T19:28:00.001-07:002012-06-03T19:28:36.999-07:00The only thing I know to say."I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,<br />
in secret, between the shadow and the soul...<br />
<br />
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.<br />
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;<br />
so I love you because I know no other way..."<br />
<br />
- Pablo NerudaMisfit.http://www.blogger.com/profile/11352778858740605627noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4341782581451864879.post-85018155399567670612012-05-29T17:13:00.000-07:002012-05-29T17:13:00.501-07:00Love gives you a face.The hustle and bustle<br />
around me<br />
hustles and bustles <br />
endlessly.<br />
A thousand somebodys surround me,<br />
and I have become <br />
another faceless somebody,<br />
another taken parking space,<br />
another mass of breathing matter.<br />
A hundred eyes glance away from me,<br />
a dozen smile hello,<br />
but no one sees.<br />
No one cares to see.<br />
The world around me overlooks faces,<br />
but <em>love</em> gives you a face.<br />
<br />
The mall stores bustle<br />
with girls in large sunglasses<br />
and thick mascara;<br />
masks for their insecurities.<br />
Popularity tells them to mask themselves,<br />
but <em>love</em> gives you a face.<br />
<br />
Love sees eyes for what they are;<br />
the truest mirrors of the soul.<br />
Love smiles at the curve of your nose,<br />
and your forgotten facial hair.<br />
Love sees the little red blemishes<br />
and dances with delight<br />
for the simple pleasure of having seen them,<br />
for they are what make you,<br />
you.<br />
<br />
Our souls cringe and hide<br />
when a mirror reflects us <br />
back to us.<br />
Our lonely hearts tell us to <br />
hide away.<br />
But <em>love </em>gives you a face.Misfit.http://www.blogger.com/profile/11352778858740605627noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4341782581451864879.post-17620503622847216682012-05-29T17:07:00.000-07:002012-05-29T17:07:31.602-07:00They say there is a distance between<br />
Tallahassee and south Alabama.<br />
They measure it in miles,<br />
and post their fancied gulf<br />
on bright green signs <br />
along the interstate.<br />
<br />
They say there is a great distance <br />
between you and me, <br />
but I do not believe them,<br />
because I feel you dancing<br />
in the honeysuckle-wind,<br />
and hear your whispers <br />
cut through the salty air.<br />
<br />
They say that love is blind,<br />
but really, love is the only thing<br />
that can make you see:<br />
for without our connected heartbeats<br />
I would never see your apparition<br />
gliding between the yellow pines<br />
to comfort me.<br />
<br />
They say that there is a distance between<br />
Tallahassee and south Alabama,<br />
but I do not believe them<br />
because I feel you here with me.Misfit.http://www.blogger.com/profile/11352778858740605627noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4341782581451864879.post-22876071575193071912012-05-22T12:45:00.001-07:002012-05-22T12:47:13.070-07:00Oh heart! (why do you sink?)Oh heavy heart,<br />
why do you sink?<br />
You are so weak,<br />
so frail, so broken!<br />
One day absent from <em>her</em> voice<br />
drives you downward<br />
like a stone;<br />
-all alone.<br />
You beat for <em>her</em>,<br />
I know that well.<br />
You pump with joy<br />
at the sight of <em>her</em> eyes.<br />
They drive you wild with buoyant frenzy,<br />
more alive than oxygen.<br />
<br />
Oh heavy heart,<br />
why do you sink?<br />
Your buoyancy has shriveled,<br />
leaving you like a raisin<br />
as heavy as a stone.<br />
<br />
Oh raisin-stone,<br />
You are so weak!<br />
<em>She</em> melts you like butter,<br />
and spreads you like sweet grape jam;<br />
consumed by <em>her</em> kisses,<br />
and engulfed by <em>her</em> love.<br />
But, oh!<br />
You live to be consumed,<br />
and beat to be engulfed!<br />
<br />
Oh unconsumed, unengulfed raisin-stone,<br />
why do you sink?Misfit.http://www.blogger.com/profile/11352778858740605627noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4341782581451864879.post-17636038927996185132012-05-15T11:57:00.000-07:002012-05-15T11:57:49.330-07:00If I could swallow the night.If I could swallow the night<br />
I would open wide my lungs<br />
And drink it in.<br />
<br />
I would drink in the darkness,<br />
The cool, and the quiet peace<br />
Into my soul.<br />
<br />
The penetrating quietness<br />
Is a balm of Gilead<br />
Like no other.<br />
<br />
The singing stars reach tired ears<br />
WIth a song of heartbeats and<br />
Rythmic life.<br />
<br />
They call, "Come now, come away!<br />
Dance with our light and watch for<br />
The sunrise.<br />
<br />
There is no time for sleeping<br />
This is a vigil of breath<br />
And whispers.<br />
<br />
If I could swallow the night<br />
I would open wide my lungs<br />
And drink it in.Misfit.http://www.blogger.com/profile/11352778858740605627noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4341782581451864879.post-91563121137291460192012-04-29T12:33:00.000-07:002012-04-29T12:33:56.320-07:00Ode to ignorance. -Mag 115You cannot capture my freedom<br />
Though you daily try<br />
With voracious appetite.<br />
You, who are a<br />
Vampire of freedom,<br />
Who feasts on the unchained hearts of others,<br />
Cannot capture my freedom.<br />
Though you chain my feet<br />
With musty bonds,<br />
Or place me in a<br />
Confining, glass jar<br />
So you can observe me<br />
Sleeping or awake,<br />
You cannot capture my freedom.<br />
For, I have books,<br />
Which break all chains,<br />
And the iridescent light<br />
As my constant companion.<br />
<br />
<i>This piece was written for Tess over at <a href="http://magpietales.blogspot.com/">http://magpietales.blogspot.com/</a></i>Misfit.http://www.blogger.com/profile/11352778858740605627noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4341782581451864879.post-80469069601024393452012-04-29T00:32:00.000-07:002012-04-29T00:32:08.954-07:00The type of friend you are.<i>Dedicated to my friend Ross Ponder.</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
You are the type of friend<br />
who is a master at sharpening iron.<br />
Even in the midst<br />
of the clamor of battle,<br />
as the dark ones hover close<br />
with teeth gleaming for my soul;<br />
you are the one who leaps out<br />
from the trenches,<br />
builds a forge from his own soul,<br />
and does battle with his sword<br />
while sharpening my own.<br />
When it's all said and done,<br />
and my enemies and chains<br />
lay broken at my feet,<br />
you are the type of friend<br />
who bows down in humility<br />
to wash the blood from my feet.<br />
Your humility and bravery astound me.<br />
The world needs more friends like you<br />
For there is so much dull iron,<br />
And so many bloody feet.Misfit.http://www.blogger.com/profile/11352778858740605627noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4341782581451864879.post-55846166187178598362012-04-26T13:03:00.000-07:002012-04-26T13:03:25.819-07:00In Artefex Carmina<div class="post-body entry-content" id="post-body-9173591974935269772" itemprop="articleBody" style="position: relative; width: 506px;"><div style="background-color: transparent;"><div dir="ltr" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, 'Palatino Linotype', Palatino, serif; font-size: 20px; line-height: 1.4; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><b id="internal-source-marker_0.741029197582975" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 16px; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>Here is a poem I wrote about 3 weeks ago. I tweaked it a bit for this weeks <a href="http://dversepoets.com/2012/04/26/dverse-poets-pub-meeting-the-bar-allegory/">meeting the bar</a>.</i></span></b></div><div dir="ltr" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, 'Palatino Linotype', Palatino, serif; font-size: 20px; line-height: 1.4; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><b id="internal-source-marker_0.741029197582975" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 16px; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i><br />
</i></span></b></div><div dir="ltr" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, 'Palatino Linotype', Palatino, serif; font-size: 20px; line-height: 1.4; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><b id="internal-source-marker_0.741029197582975" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">There was once a girl who lived in a white-cedar house. She lived in a particular time, perhaps it was this one; in which life had lost all originality. Her name was a common name, perhaps jenny, or julie, or amy, or susan; but she preferred only to be known as, “In artefex carmina”; the artist of songs. You see, that was precisely who she was. At the young age of just 18 she left everything she had ever known, carrying only her small, silver, music-playing square. She had determined to live her life with a soundtrack. Setting the shuffle, and tying her strands of indigo-black hair into a ponytail, she embarked. She took the only road she knew; the oak lined dirt that led away from her white-cedar house, into the great, deep unknown. She did it step by step, and heartbeat by heartbeat, and song by song. She made it into the great unknown, but once there, her battery died, and she had nothing with which to revive it. So she spiralled. Artists without inspiration always spiral. She spiralled into shooting things into her veins, and smoking things into her lungs, and inviting those who did not love her into her heart and soul; and in the end, her heart and veins and lungs were left broken. She wished she could trade her blanket underneath the overpass for her white-cedar house down the oak lined dirt road, away from this great, deep unknown. Sadly for her, life rarely ever gives back white-cedar houses, as they are somewhat hard to find. In her blanket under the overpass, with her broken veins, and lungs, and heart, she finally opened her ears and closed her eyes, and she heard. She heard the sound of the overpass creaking, and the sound of busy cars, and the sound of careless ravens and whispering oaks; and beyond that, with other ears she never knew she had, she heard the wonderful rhythm of life. Her veins and lungs became alive with the sunlight rays of kick-drum sound that flooded her soul. The shattered pieces of the heart she had left began to beat for the first time in a long time, and once again, she embarked. This time it wasn’t a journey away from anything, but a journey content with where it was. She walked and walked, and as she walked, she sang. As she sang, her haunting indigo-black voice reflected the voice of the land and life around her, and people began to stop and listen. She walked past plains, and mountains, and hills, until she reached a yellow salt ocean. As a gift for her haunting voice, a fisherman with a salt and pepper beard, and broad, wrinkled shoulders offered her his broken down ship. She felt at home with this broken ship, for she too knew what brokenness felt like. As she ran her fingers across its worn and splintered sides, she recognized that it looked just like her soul. The girl with the haunting voice spent 6 long months repairing that ship. At the end of it all, she had worn and cracked hands, and her haunting voice evolved and subtly sounded of sea-salt and grit. As she boarded the old fishing ship to say goodbye to her temporary home on the shore of this yellow salty sea, she sang a haunting, gritty, beautiful song that sounded so much like life, that the fishermen forgot their grudges and smoked pipes together. She set sail to the wind, and beckoned it near with a siren call, and the wind wrapped around her and under her, and through her to set her sails away. No one from the yellow salt shore, or the creaking underpass, or the town with the white-cedar house ever saw her again, but the ones who heard her sing say that they still hear her salty, gritty, haunting indigo-black song through the whispering oaks, and cawing ravens, and creaking overpasses, and busy cars to this very day.</span></b></div></div></div>Misfit.http://www.blogger.com/profile/11352778858740605627noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4341782581451864879.post-61042253415191243952012-04-24T13:07:00.001-07:002012-04-24T13:07:58.282-07:00Rest assured, green follows gray.<div class="post-body entry-content" id="post-body-8043003701487207384" itemprop="articleBody" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, 'Palatino Linotype', Palatino, serif; font-size: 20px; line-height: 1.4; position: relative; width: 506px;">Gray rain clouds;<br />
Bookends to my soul.<br />
Gray to gray,<br />
Fog to fog,<br />
The intimate moment<br />
When I and my surroundings<br />
Become one and the same.<br />
Where is the crisp life-ness of Autumn?<br />
Or the clarity of Spring?<br />
My seasonal heart lies dormant,<br />
Waiting to be awakened<br />
Once again.</div>Misfit.http://www.blogger.com/profile/11352778858740605627noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4341782581451864879.post-21121542723495212762012-04-22T05:59:00.002-07:002012-04-22T05:59:24.951-07:00Mag 114<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqfdcN5YZ8RUH54i232DZbwEsO9AyRTiXwVT2m2z2R260Ex_OmNBM3mirq6V6OfCELhokyjay3chPLbxe0MfvT_FG49_K3eHKuwFcv1P4vx8R3FEb5Ivrc46IE2DZZU3p9NqMj1ctDVio/s1600/Public+Latrine.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqfdcN5YZ8RUH54i232DZbwEsO9AyRTiXwVT2m2z2R260Ex_OmNBM3mirq6V6OfCELhokyjay3chPLbxe0MfvT_FG49_K3eHKuwFcv1P4vx8R3FEb5Ivrc46IE2DZZU3p9NqMj1ctDVio/s320/Public+Latrine.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
I always wanted a watery grave</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
But always lived to far inland </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
To have one.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I wish to die</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Poetically, tragically,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Like a heartbroken pirate</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Sinking to the depths.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I always wanted a watery grave</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
So here in this forest full of life</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I crafted myself one</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And laid myself down.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And whispered goodbye</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Even before I really had</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
The chance to live;</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Which is really the life of</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Us all.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Find more like this at<a href="http://magpietales.blogspot.com/">http://magpietales.blogspot.com/</a></i></div>Misfit.http://www.blogger.com/profile/11352778858740605627noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4341782581451864879.post-58866930229794081732012-04-22T00:32:00.002-07:002012-04-22T00:35:05.231-07:00Duty's ghost.He lifts a phantom hand up to his brow<br />
Carrying weight from a score of long years.<br />
Through blood of comrades dead, he crawled up sand<br />
As Nazi guns menaced above his head.<br />
All of twenty-one and off to a war<br />
A captive of duty to freedom's hope.<br />
He waded through the snow and ice of death<br />
And liberated Auschwitz with disgust<br />
For those who use the freedom of their power<br />
To fuel such hate and force their brother's Hour.<br />
He lost his life to a tyrants machine,<br />
But it was freely given for a hope<br />
That generations after him would cling<br />
To the ghost of duty, and remember<br />
The implications of freedom's high price.<br />
<br />
<i>This is my take on the prompt over at <a href="http://dversepoets.com/2012/04/21/poetics-duty-calls/">d-verse</a> </i><br />
<i>This is also my first take at Iambic Pentameter blank verse.</i>Misfit.http://www.blogger.com/profile/11352778858740605627noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4341782581451864879.post-13496540906426681742012-04-19T16:43:00.002-07:002012-04-19T16:45:18.860-07:00"The Fiddler"<i>This is my attempt at <a href="http://dversepoets.com/">D-verse's</a> "form for all" for this week. This is also my submission for Prompt Thursday's over at <a href="http://misfitian.blogspot.com/">http://misfitian.blogspot.com/</a> Check both out for some great poetry!!!</i><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzqkPVDV2_lCWlWOAScYI5l6yTA6kAuROxKqMOov-johc4igiiNa_3_gM84gcTGUDt6G-P0Y4LFiVH2waY5EU9gYX2Ya6i7cQFZbEhg4sBN_ept7TTl3pZ674fNwM5hAD2LSLyRF0wMJc/s1600/The+Fiddler-+Marc+Chagall.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzqkPVDV2_lCWlWOAScYI5l6yTA6kAuROxKqMOov-johc4igiiNa_3_gM84gcTGUDt6G-P0Y4LFiVH2waY5EU9gYX2Ya6i7cQFZbEhg4sBN_ept7TTl3pZ674fNwM5hAD2LSLyRF0wMJc/s1600/The+Fiddler-+Marc+Chagall.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>The Fiddler</b><br />
Boot-clad and black as night<br />
Mute thoughts come alive<br />
As the fiddler of death, and master of fear</div><div style="text-align: center;">Has captive control of this winter-world's ears.</div><div style="text-align: center;">With screech of his bow</div><div style="text-align: center;">His true colors show</div><div style="text-align: center;">Playing Chopin and Rachmoninoff</div><div style="text-align: center;">Saying, "Come home my love" in a soft</div><div style="text-align: center;">Yet menacing tone.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Set as the axis of everything, "home".</div>Misfit.http://www.blogger.com/profile/11352778858740605627noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4341782581451864879.post-21014140081838871502012-04-15T11:58:00.001-07:002012-04-15T12:00:54.740-07:00Mag 113- A simple gift.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJliI3gebooy8tDnTjTCkCrYFBx-hBzzvRHK5majWsQdv1XhwZd8FQWAfYcCekQu9ce03O1SFezVFNp8Ru2v8YW6vi7HmiBI0OdhSppE_dO8Gcvk_oCmhhYDS4x7lr7ojHVwCxe3EG6WU/s1600/Mag.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJliI3gebooy8tDnTjTCkCrYFBx-hBzzvRHK5majWsQdv1XhwZd8FQWAfYcCekQu9ce03O1SFezVFNp8Ru2v8YW6vi7HmiBI0OdhSppE_dO8Gcvk_oCmhhYDS4x7lr7ojHVwCxe3EG6WU/s320/Mag.jpg" width="286" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I bring these flowers</div><div style="text-align: center;">As a simple gift.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I<br />
-Who am but a reflection of you-</div><div style="text-align: center;">Bring these flowers as a simple gift.</div><div style="text-align: center;">We painted the town red</div><div style="text-align: center;">In the middle of </div><div style="text-align: center;">The dark night of life.</div><div style="text-align: center;">We brought color to the darkness</div><div style="text-align: center;">And music to the moon.</div><div style="text-align: center;">You fly like an angel</div><div style="text-align: center;">Wrapped around a star</div><div style="text-align: center;">While I gaze on </div><div style="text-align: center;">As a reflection of you</div><div style="text-align: center;">Bringing these flowers as a simple gift.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">See more like this at <a href="http://magpietales.blogspot.com/2012/04/mag-113.html">http://magpietales.blogspot.com</a></div>Misfit.http://www.blogger.com/profile/11352778858740605627noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4341782581451864879.post-43905028120353727572012-04-13T14:35:00.000-07:002012-04-13T14:35:47.697-07:00Green and un-heart-like.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.kentkarlsson.net/__bilder/works/webstorlek/2004_Vykort_fran_sjalen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://www.kentkarlsson.net/__bilder/works/webstorlek/2004_Vykort_fran_sjalen.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Without your arms</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I remain a broken heart piece.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">My heart piece </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Does not even resemble</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">A piece of a heart.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">It is green and lumpy</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">From lonely melting.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">My hand reaches for you,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">But the floating balloon of longing</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Sinks lower each second without</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Your eyes.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Return and bring red life!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Join my heart with</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Whispering love</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And revive my bloodstream</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">With blue-green eyes</div>Misfit.http://www.blogger.com/profile/11352778858740605627noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4341782581451864879.post-67737866154998679612012-04-08T14:13:00.003-07:002012-04-08T14:15:01.215-07:00Magpie 112<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjraYhFUc1UNyM_2qpD-OTn1JOQ5060L7ZYPZn0fjIeJt2TETN8i6JTtBxUkKEkexrw9adkaJC2ytL2K-4bsinv5bgspe6rXLjxvKBAXy5EwtBBQWMl9cjuUSOgdhL0_cc5J_6ZKpdk_RM/s1600/Rose+leaves+and+hope.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="184" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjraYhFUc1UNyM_2qpD-OTn1JOQ5060L7ZYPZn0fjIeJt2TETN8i6JTtBxUkKEkexrw9adkaJC2ytL2K-4bsinv5bgspe6rXLjxvKBAXy5EwtBBQWMl9cjuUSOgdhL0_cc5J_6ZKpdk_RM/s320/Rose+leaves+and+hope.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><b>Rose-leaves and hope.</b><br />
<br />
Dreamland cloudy,<br />
I call to you from inside<br />
My cracked and broken shell<br />
Of reality.<br />
Take me away<br />
To a place where<br />
My smeared crying eyes,<br />
And my tousled, ruffled hair,<br />
Can breathe a breeze<br />
Full of rose-leaves<br />
And hope.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<i>Thanks to Tess over at <a href="http://magpietales.blogspot.com/">http://magpietales.blogspot.com/</a> for this wonderful prompt.</i>Misfit.http://www.blogger.com/profile/11352778858740605627noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4341782581451864879.post-86530898377675385132012-04-08T12:11:00.001-07:002012-04-08T14:02:42.909-07:00A poem for Easter.<div style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Dripping life drops</span></div><div style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The unrecognized hero</span></div><div style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Cries His bitter tears</span></div><div style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Alone.</span></div><div style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Stabbed to the heart</span></div><div style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">By the sharpest spark</span></div><div style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Of betrayal,</span></div><div style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">He sweats</span></div><div style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Great drops of blood.</span></div><div style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">They splash to the garden floor</span></div><div style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">As a foreshadowing glimpse of reality.</span></div><div style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The traitor steps in</span></div><div style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">And leaves a kiss</span></div><div style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Upon His cheek</span></div><div style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">And sulkingly leaves</span></div><div style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">To dispose of himself</span></div><div style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">In the most unheroic of ways.</span></div><div style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Whilst the unrecognized hero</span></div><div style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Gives Himself</span></div><div style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">With quiet resolution</span></div><div style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> To the task ahead.</span></div><div style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">After the garden</span></div><div style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Comes the hill.</span></div><div style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Golgotha,</span></div><div style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Calvary,</span></div><div style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">A murder of Divine proportions</span></div><div style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The greatest massacre of history.</span></div><div style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Forsaken and broken,</span></div><div style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">For the hope set before Him</span></div><div style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">He endured.</span></div><div style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">After the hill,</span></div><div style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Comes the tomb.</span></div><div style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The resting place of immensity</span></div><div style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Contained in a cave.</span></div><div style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">But today,</span></div><div style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The rays of life</span></div><div style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Shone again</span></div><div style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">As the Son itself was loosed from darkness,</span></div><div style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Bringing victory to His people,</span></div><div style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">And a refuge from life's harshness.</span></div><div style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">After the tomb,</span></div><div style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Comes life. </span></div>Misfit.http://www.blogger.com/profile/11352778858740605627noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4341782581451864879.post-46987336512035250502012-04-07T21:53:00.003-07:002012-04-24T10:36:52.409-07:00When mistakes become buzzards..<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWJUZoVqw5QZSSl-Hu0fFDCRd0hizY-Pbnvy_R2r5HQMu4q6oZTxd-dldwg3OIep312HNvpEnUT49Y8xsxvY35pADbYMXX0jwRKXqj0lV2AH49Q8lfhsor0X2W43r0nefP9F4iIjUh8tM/s1600/Hawks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWJUZoVqw5QZSSl-Hu0fFDCRd0hizY-Pbnvy_R2r5HQMu4q6oZTxd-dldwg3OIep312HNvpEnUT49Y8xsxvY35pADbYMXX0jwRKXqj0lV2AH49Q8lfhsor0X2W43r0nefP9F4iIjUh8tM/s1600/Hawks.jpg" /></a></div><br />
Demons of my past<br />
Circle the skies of my present,<br />
Seeking to rob me of now-ness<br />
Like bald, black, buzzards.<br />
They pervade my dreams,<br />
Peering their murky black eyes<br />
Into my soul.<br />
My mistakes see me,<br />
As I am,<br />
As I was,<br />
And as I will be;<br />
I have become breathing carrion.<br />
They haunt me,<br />
Always present, but only seen briefly,<br />
A feather here,<br />
One bare gray foot there;<br />
Absent presence is the most sinister kind.<br />
I lift my heart to find,<br />
That there is rest from my mistakes,<br />
Release from my brokennness.<br />
I am not carrion,<br />
But a living soul.<br />
I am not dead pieces,<br />
But a vibrant whole.<br />
I embrace my gifted heartbeat,<br />
And echo it's reality<br />
Writing the soundtrack<br />
For the feathery flight of my mistakes<br />
To bow out gracefully;<br />
No more feathers,<br />
No more bare grey feet.<br />
<br />
This prompt was found at "Poetics" at <a href="http://dversepoets.com/2012/04/07/poetics-new-view-for-you/">http://dversepoets.com</a> Much thanks to brian for this one!Misfit.http://www.blogger.com/profile/11352778858740605627noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4341782581451864879.post-80430037014872073842012-04-06T13:29:00.002-07:002012-04-06T13:29:48.009-07:00Rest assured, green follows gray.Gray rain clouds;<br />
Bookends to my soul.<br />
Gray to gray,<br />
Fog to fog,<br />
The intimate moment<br />
When I and my surroundings<br />
Become one and the same.<br />
Where is the crisp life-ness of Autumn?<br />
Or the clarity of Spring?<br />
My seasonal heart lies dormant,<br />
Waiting to be awakened<br />
Once again.Misfit.http://www.blogger.com/profile/11352778858740605627noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4341782581451864879.post-65076014789092924622012-03-29T16:46:00.000-07:002012-03-29T16:46:51.480-07:00Dancing with you.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVcCUR9cmRiDQAOxzusHJ5cax8AnR8FrswUt39DQoidnC8Y0QJzeMlKOvQKbce-CLUJVTDAf-gWYxZn57tnVGxRDHVrT7f1ko61D43zr11lN0H486GPD1OWHIkerRf7utDrz3jfXdJ1-0/s1600/Cory+Godbey+-%22Starlight+Heart%22.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVcCUR9cmRiDQAOxzusHJ5cax8AnR8FrswUt39DQoidnC8Y0QJzeMlKOvQKbce-CLUJVTDAf-gWYxZn57tnVGxRDHVrT7f1ko61D43zr11lN0H486GPD1OWHIkerRf7utDrz3jfXdJ1-0/s320/Cory+Godbey+-%22Starlight+Heart%22.jpg" width="212" /></a></div><br />
<br />
Your green eyes shock my senses<br />
And draw me helplessly near.<br />
Your dancing locks<br />
Run through my fingertips<br />
Like falling black water.<br />
The smell of your raven-hair<br />
Course my veins with life.<br />
As we dance here,<br />
Our hearts become one<br />
And our deepest of souls<br />
Kiss with enthusiasm.<br />
With my hand in yours<br />
And your breath on my neck,<br />
I know what it means to be alive.<br />
<br />
See more like this at <a href="http://misfitian.blogspot.com/2012/03/misfitian-3.html">http://misfitian.blogspot.com/2012/03/misfitian-3.html</a>Misfit.http://www.blogger.com/profile/11352778858740605627noreply@blogger.com0