IF

INDEX

THE DASH by ANON 

I read of a man who stood to speak at the funeral of his

friend

He referred to the dates on the tombstone from beginning -

to the end

He noted that first came the date of the birth, and spoke of

the second with tears

But he said that what mattered most of all was the dash

between the years

For that dash represents all the time his friend has spent

alive on earth,

And now only those who love him knew what that little line

was worth.

For it matters not, how much we own, the cars the house the

cash

What matters is how we live and love and how we spend our

dash.

So think about this long and hard, are there things you'd like

to change?

For you never know how much time is left, you could be at

'dash-mid range'.

If we could just slow down enough to consider what's true

and what's real

And always try to understand the way other people feel

And be less quick to anger and show appreciation more

And love the people in our lives like we've never loved before

If we treat others with respect and more often wear a smile

Remembering that our own dash - might only last a short

while

So when your eulogy is being read with your life's actions to

rehash

Would you be pleased with the things they have to say

about how you spent your dash?

SENT IN BY PEEKA 

INDEX

PHENOMENAL WOMAN by MAYA ANGELOU 

Pretty women wonder where my secret lies,

I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size 

But when I start to tell them,

They think I'm telling lies

I say 

It's in the reach of my arms,

The span of my hips,

The stride of my step,

The curl of my lips.

I'm a woman

Phenomenally,

Phenomenal woman,

That's me 

I walk into a room 

Just as cool as you please,

And to a man,

The fellows stand or

Fall down on their knees,

Then they swarm around me,

A hive of honey bees.

I say,

It's the fire in my eyes,

And the flash of my teeth,

The swing in my waist,

And the joy in my feet.

I'm a woman

Phenomenally.

Phenomenal woman,

That's me.

Men themselves have wondered

What they see in me.

They try so much

But they can't touch

My inner mystery.

When I try to show them

They say they can't see.

I say 

It's in the arch of my back,

The sun of my smile,

The ride of my breasts

The grace of my style.

I'm a woman

Phenomenally.

Phenomenal woman,

Thats me.

Now you understand

Just why my heads not's bowed.

I don't shout or jump about

Or have to talk loud.

When you see me passing

It ought to make you proud.

I say,

It's in the click of my heels,

The bend of my hair,

The palm of my hand,

The need for my care.

'cause I'm  a woman

Phenomenally.

Phenomenal woman,

Thats me. 

INDEX

ANGELA'S WORD by BARBARA K BASSETT

When  Angela was very young

Age two or three or so,

Her mother and her father 

Taught her never to say NO.

They taught her that she must agree

With everything they said,

And if she didn't, she was spanked

And sent upstairs to bed.

So angela grew up to be 

A most agreeable child;

She was never angry

and she was never wild;

She always shared, she always cared,

She never picked a fight,

And no matter what her parents said,

She thought that they were right.

Angela the Angel did very well in school

And, as you might imagine, she followed every rule;

Her teachers said she was so well bred,

So quiet and so good,

But how Angela felt inside

They never understood 

Angela had a lot of friends

Who liked her for her smile;

They knew she was the kind of gal

Who'd go the extra mile;

And even when she had a cold

And really needed rest,

When someone asked her if she'd help

She always answered yes.

When Angela was thirty-three, she was a lawyer's wife.

She had a home and family, and a nice suburban life.

She had a little girl of four

And a little boy of nine,

And if someone asked her how she felt

She always answered, " Fine."

But one cold night near Christmastime

When her family was in bed 

She lay awake as awful thoughts went spinning through

her head;

She didn't know why, and she didn't know how,

But she wanted her life to end;

So she begged Whoever put here here

To take her back again.

And then she heard, from deep inside,

A voice that was soft and low;

It only said a single word

And the word it said was.....NO

From that moment on, Angela knew

Exactly what she had to do.

Her life depended on that word,

So this is  what her loved ones heard:

NO, I just don't want to;

NO, I don't agree;

NO, that's yours to handle;

NO, thats wrong for me;

NO I wanted something else;

NO That hurt a lot!

NO I'm tired, and NO I'm busy

And NO I'd rather not!

Well, her family found it shocking,

Her friends reacted with suprise

But Angela was different, you could see it in her eyes;

For they've held no meek submission

Since that night three years ago 

When Angela the Angel 

Got permission to say NO

Today Angela's a person first, then a mother and a wife 

She knows where she begins and ends,

She has a seperate life.

She has talents and ambitions,

She has feelings, needs and goals,

She has money in the bank and 

An opinion at the polls.

And to her boy and girl she says,

"It's nice when we agree;

But if you cant say NO, you'll never grow 

To be all you're meant to be.

Because I know I'm sometimes wrong

And because I love you so

You'll always be my angels 

Even when you tell me NO"

INDEX

The Crab

Hard shell - the outward facade

Soft cenre - the shattered hopes

Sharp claws - the upfront wit

Sideways walk - the insecurity

Eyes open wide - the observer

Antennae wavering - the hunted

Strike the hard shell and smash the dreams

Dig deep into the soft centre and hear the screams

Powerless to struggle claws broken - antennae bent

Writhing in pain - end the misery - dont just dent

Peace at last the soft centre has died

Along with everything else inside

INDEX

If you can keep your head when all about you,
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good nor talk too wise:

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knavesto make a trap for fools,
Or watch things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knavesto make a trap for fools,
Or watch things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!

INDEX

           IM A WOMAN

    I shave my legs, I sit down to pee.
   And I can justify any, shopping spree.
   Don't go to a barber, but a beauty salon.
   Can get a massage, without a hard-on.

  I can balance the checkbook, can pump my own gas.
    Can talk to my friends, about the size of my ass.
   My beauty's a masterpiece, and yes, it takes long.
  At least I can admit, to others when I'm wrong.

  And I don't have a problem, admitting I'm lost.
  I never forget, an important date.
  You just gotta deal with it, I'm usually late.

I don't watch movies, with lots of gore.
  Don't need instant replay, to remember the score.

  I won't lose my hair, I don't get jock itch.
  And just cause I'm assertive, Don't call me a bitch.
Don't say to your friends, Oh yeah, I can get her.
  In your dreams, my dear, I can do better!
  Flowers are okay,  But jewelry's best.
Would you look at my face, Not at my chest!

  I don't have a problem, with Expressing my feelings.
  I know when you're lying, You look at the ceiling.

  Don't call me a girl, A babe or a chick. I am a WOMAN,
  Get it, you prick?!

SENT IN BY  DOO 

INDEX

VICES

There's nothing wrong with vices 

you've got to have some fun

But sadly all the best ones are frowned upon when done

Like eating chippy suppers 

and swilling loads of booze 

At least its  not illegal so you got the right to choose.

They tell you smokings  dangerous 

and sex is risky too

But listen to the experts and there's sod all left to do 

So here's a simple message

if you want to have a ball 

Enjoy your little vices and say bollocks to them all ! 

INDEX

Red roses were her favourites,

Her name was also Rose.

And every year her husband sent them,

tied with pretty bows.

The year he died,

the roses were delivered to her door.

The card said, "Be my Valentine,"

like all the years before.

Each year he sent her roses,

and the note would always say,

"I love you even more this year,

than last year on this day.

My love for you will always grow,

with every passing year."

She knew this was the last time

that the roses would appear.

She thought, he ordered roses

in advance before this day.

Her loving husband did not know,

that he would pass away.

He always liked to do things early,

way before the time.

Then, if he got too busy,

everything would work out fine.

She trimmed the stems,

and placed them in a very special vase.

Then, sat the vase

beside the portrait of his smiling face.

She would sit for hours,

in her husband's favourite chair.

While staring at his picture,

and the roses sitting there.

A year went by,

and it was hard to live without her mate.

With loneliness and solitude,

that had become her fate.

Then, the very hour,

as on Valentines before,

The doorbell rang, and there were roses,

sitting by her door.

She brought the roses in,

and then just looked at them in shock.

Then, went to get the telephone,

to call the florist shop.

The owner answered, and she asked him,

if he would explain,

Why would someone do this

to her, causing her such pain?

"I know your husband passed away,

more than a year ago,"

The owner said, "I knew you'd call,

and you would want to know.

The flowers you received today,

were paid for in advance.

Your husband always planned ahead,

he left nothing to chance.

There is a standing order,

that I have on file down here,

And he has paid, well in advance,

you'll get them every year.

There also is another thing,

that I think you should know,

He wrote a special little card

..he did this years ago.

Then, should ever I find out

that he's no longer here,

That's the card...that should be sent,

to you the following year."

She thanked him and hung up the phone,

her tears now flowing hard.

Her fingers shaking, as she slowly

reached to get the card.

Inside the card, she saw

that he had written her a note.

Then, as she stared in total silence,

this is what he wrote...

Hello my love, I know it's been

a year since I've been gone,

I hope it hasn't been too hard

for you to overcome.

I know it must be lonely,

and the pain is very real.

for if it was the other way,

I know how I would feel.

The love we shared made everything

so beautiful in life.

I loved you more than words can say,

you were the perfect wife.

You were my friend and lover,

you fulfilled my every need.

I know it's only been a year,

but please try not to grieve

I want you to be happy,

even when you shed your tears.

That is why the roses will be

sent to you for years.

When you get these roses,

think of all the happiness,

That we had together,

and how both of us were blessed.

I have always loved you

and I know I always will.

But, my love, you must go on,

you have some living still.

Please...try to find happiness,

while living out your days.

I know it is not easy,

but I hope you find some ways.

The roses will come every year,

and they will only stop,

When your door's not answered,

when the florist stops to knock.

He will come five times that day,

in case you have gone out.

But after his last visit,

he will know without a doubt

To take the roses to the place,

where I've instructed him.

And place the roses where we are,

together once again.

Sometimes in life, you find a special friend. Someone who changes your life just by being part of it. Someone who makes you laugh until you can't stop;

Someone who makes you believe that there really is good in the world. Someone who convinces you that there really is an unlocked door  just waiting for you to open it.

This is Forever Friendship.

> > > >>> > >>

INDEX

Who Are we to Judge Sent in and written By Jashino

Judge too quickly cos we’re treated the same way

but that doesn’t make it right does it? 

Who are we to judge anyone? 

Just cos they dress different? Look different? Whatever.  

Everyone’s different – no one’s the same.  

So what…we gonna judge everyone?

The whole world is a beautiful place; 

everyone is beautiful…all in their own little ways.  

Like diamonds – all shiny and nice…but never exactly the same.  

People always look up to see heaven, 

when we’re already in it. Right here.  

If you do good, you do your best, you make people happy 

and most of all you make yourself happy 

then surely your world is perfect right?  

This place is what WE make it.  

You make your own heaven and hell.  

But we can never be in the one place at once – 

you can’t have one without the other.  

How can something be good if you have nothing bad to compare it to?

Children are born angels.  Innocent.  Completely.  

As we get older we lose our wings.  

And when I look at a child’s brilliant smile 

I wonder when I lost mine.  

Do we all lose them?  All at the same time?  

What if someone lost theirs cos of me?  I’m sorry.  

When I go to bed at night I always apologise…for everything.  

And I thank God for everything too including the bad.  

Life’s hard cos I’m learning.  

If life’s easy then I’m not learning anything at all 

and I thank God for teaching me.

It makes me sad when I watch the children lose their wings.  

They think it’s a race and try too hard too quickly to fly.  

They forget to enjoy what and where they are now.  

That’s what it’s all about.  Everyone’s on the same road to the same place 

so what’s the rush?

Why not just stop to watch the sky?  

The most beautiful pictures painted everyday for us to see.  

The cold morning air wakes us up so we don’t miss a thing.  

The sun comforts us, helps us unwind.  

The moon, like a big torch to stop us from getting lost at night.  

The rain, keeps all the flowers fresh and alive.  

If I make one person smile each day, 

then I’ve done something good right?  

I’ve given that person one little happy memory at least for that day.  

Wouldn’t it be good if everyone could just do that?  

If not for themselves, to make the people around them happy 

it’s not hard.  Just be happy to be happy.  

You’re not happy?  Why not?  We all know the answers  

just gotta ask the right questions.  Ask yourself.  

Has anything you’ve done made your life better?  

We can change that.  We CAN change, we can do anything we want 

no one and nothing can stop us if we really want it.  

A lot of people let themselves get stopped.  

Not intentionally, just something in their mind echoing the voices.  

But like I already said – who are they to judge us right?  

:o)   right? Start now by smiling.

INDEX

CowBoy Troy.........

By Paul Harwitz.....(brilliant cowboy poet)

(All Rights Reserved.)

Cowboy Troy sometimes seems to be

The epitome of outlandish stupidity.

He's not a bad cowboy when he's doing his work,

But thinking things through is a duty he'll often shirk.

Cowboy Troy works all right in the saddle,

But common sense will often skidaddle

When he hatches one of his hare-brained schemes,

And people laugh so hard they near bust their seams.

Like the time he thought he'd invent a beauty-cream

And went to the General Store to see what ingredients he could glean

From the list of things on the jars of stuff there,

Then got a well-worn chemical recipe book out of who knows where.

He decided to use an old tool-shed quite a ways from the bunkhouse,

And said that's 'cause he didn't want us disturbing his inventing anyhows.

He figured he'd invent this new stuff without even a plan.

"Why, heck," he said, "they's mostly gliss-sireen and lan-o-lan."

He grinned. "I'll add in some rosewater and sagebrush,

And secret ingredients, and them cosmetic companies'll just rush

To buy my beauty-cream's formulary,

Or maybe I'll sell jars of it myself to every store and apothecary."

"Cowboy Troy," I said, "you don't know nothin' about chemistry,

Or about the women's beauty concoction industry.

They's got it down to a science, and there ain't no way,

They'll shell out a fortune to a hayseed cowpoke anyway."

"I'll show y'all," he said to us other cowhands, "and then you'll repent

That you ever doubted my natural-born inventin' talent.

On the fairer sex's moisturizin', prettifyin' market I'll make quite a dent.

It'll keep gals' skin young and healthy, and also wrinkles prevent."

With that, he traipsed off to that lonesome tool-shed.

He's a stubborn cuss when he gets some lame idea in his head.

Now this was the exact same day we were expecting a whole load

Of new irrigation equipment and pipe to be brought in by the main road.

We heard the trucks coming even before we saw the convoy,

And you could tell they were turning from the highway

And would be directly coming over to the ranch's way.

From that distance, each gleaming truck looked like a toy.

The nearer they got to us, the more the ground seemed to shake,

Till something totally unexpected our attention did take.

The tool-shed blew up in a spectacular way

That all of us still talk about to this day.

All of us, that is, except Cowboy Troy.

He flew through the air with unwanted ease

And his arms and legs were windmilling and flailing

Like he was trying to get a hold of a non-existent railing.

Pieces of the tool-shed were still sailing away

And a compact object of some sort jetted my way.

I jumped back, and it landed almost at my feet.

It was a book. Of chemical formulas, it was replete.

Then I saw one page which was dog-eared and marked.

"This must be Cowboy Troy's," I casually remarked.

"Let's see where he landed, and if he's still livin'.

If he's not, on his saddle, my claim I'm givin'."

We ran over to where we'd allowed he must've alighted.

It was just a ways beyond the main stable.

Someone had done a right good job of mucking out that barn.

Troy had landed in a pile of horse manure and looked quite benighted.

"Git me out of here!" he yelled, so he was still alive.

And the boys were buzzin' like bees in a hive.

"We can't move you, Troy. You'll just have to lie there real nice and

still,"

I said, "till the ambulance gets here, which I hope it shortly will."

"What!?" he shouted. "You want to leave me lying in this mess!?"

"Troy, it's a medical precaution. If your spine or neck is bollixed,

To move you without proper skill could cripple or kill. I confess

I'd like to help you, but we're all just range-hands, not trained medics."

"Oh, that's wonderful!" he shouted, and some nasty words I won't relate.

"That horse-doo saved your life," I countered. "Don't be such an ingrate.

That and the hay and all

Surely saved your life by cushioning your fall."

I looked at the page of that book, and my eyes grew wide.

"Cowboy Troy," I asked, "were you trying to commit suicide?"

"What do you mean?" he demanded in an angry tone.

"Do you have any idea what you were mixing out of this chemistry tome?"

"You know I was inventing a super beauty-cream."

"Troy, this page tells how to make nitroglycereen!"

"Well, yeah," he said, "but I only made a little bit.

It was just another secret ingredient."

"Don't you know nitro's a dangerous explosive?

The vibrations from the trucks must've set it off!

Don't you think at all? Or are you just a dumbkopf?"

"I'm not stupid," he said. "Don't insult me with words corrosive!"

"Well, what were you thinking, to put nitro into lady's beauty-glop?"

"They also use it," he argued, "in those little pills so the heart won't

stop.

I figured if it keeps the heart young, it'll work even better on skin."

We all laughed so hard, he got even madder lying in all that slop.

"You're lucky you weren't killed outright,"

I said, "or from the fall from your unscheduled morning flight.

Now, your sensibilities I don't mean to rattle,

But, Cowboy Troy, if you die, kin I have your saddle?"

Well, at that, he fussed and fumed and cussed

So much that it kept us in stitches till the ambulance got in sight.

The paramedics said it was a miracle, but that he'd be all right.

They strapped him into the stretcher real tight.

He was still cussin' a blue streak when they drove him away.

When the Admissions Nurse got told the reason for his hospital stay,

She laughed so hard that they still talk about it today.

Me and a couple of the other boys went to see him the next day.

"We brought you clean clothes 'cause they're cuttin' you loose,"

I said. "The doctor allows it's a good thing you landed on your caboose."

He got real sullen and wouldn't talk at all on the long drive home.

He was pickin' at his indignity like a cowdog pickin' at a bone.

He sat silent even all through the welcome-home supper.

The evening meal at the Raucous Ranch is usually a picker-upper.

Later on, he was still in quite a blue funk,

But even more so when he got ready to get into his bunk.

For under his pillow, some too-clever cowpoke

Had put something he thought was a real good joke.

A hand-made label graced a jar of something his ego to ream.

It read, "Famous Cowboy Troy's Nitro-Glyer-Cream."

Shared by, BlackPanther69 and all my love xoxoxoxo :o)