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“Super Dud!”

Originally posted on "William's Window":


Super duper,
Is his name,
What a trooper,
All the same.

Super hero,
Flying high,
Striking zero,
Every time.

Wonder dude,
Some might say,
High on ludes,
Every day.

No more worries,
He don‘t care,
Never hurries,
Eyes a glare.

No story here,
Or life to tell,
Drinking beer,
And drugs to sell.

Friends all gone,
A family lost,
A switch left on,
What a cost.

It’s all a blur,
An empty hole,
Nothing’s sure,
Except your blow.

Remember this,
You super dud,
The life you missed,
. .. … …. ….. With a Thud!

William Hancock © All Rights Reserved


[ Image Used: ]

Poem on Image:  placed by; written by  William Hancock © 2013′

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“The Pusherman”

Originally posted on "William's Window":

When I Was A Little Boy

When I was a little boy,
I couldn’t wait to be grown up.
No one telling me what to do,
And I could drive a real truck.

I wish that I was young again,
Now that I’ve grown older.
When I still believed in fairy tails,
Before life got so much colder.

No one ever prepares us,
For what truly lies ahead.
When those you love are gone,
And your all that’s left instead.

We spin, and we weave,
Like tomorrow will never come.
Never truly are we ready,
Not till all is said and done.

Our memories are all we have,
And photographs of the past.
The happy times, and the sad ones,
Finally realizing nothing lasts.

Yes, when I was a little boy,
I couldn’t wait to be grown up.
And living as a young man,
How could I have had such luck?

And now that I’m older,

View original 31 more words

Originally posted on "William's Window":

Broken Dreams 1

A sliver of light,

From yonder room,

Comes from a window,

I must assume.


Specks of dust,

On beams they slide,

Singing in glee,

Of days gone by.


In shadows corner,

Are wandering souls,

Wooden tables,

And empty bowls.


Once was night,

Consumed by day,

Vanishing dreams,

Just broken clay.


Disdain memories,

Like mangled ropes,

Hanging on vines,

Of nowhere’s hopes.


Endless sunshine,

Knocks the door,

Reflects the sadness,

And so much more.


William Hancock © All Rights Reserved


[ Image used: ]

Poem on Image:  placed by; written by  William Hancock © 2015′

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“Mary Jane’s Last Dance”


Originally posted on Radiating Blossom ~ Flowers & Words:

“I believe that imagination is stronger than knowledge.  That myth is more potent than history.  That dreams are more powerful than facts.  That hope always triumphs over experience.  That laughter is the only cure for grief.  And I believe that love is stronger than death.” ~ Robert Fulgham

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Originally posted on Life in Russia:


I sat and dreamt of yellow colored trees

Whilst writing lines of poetry upon it’s leaves

Fall fast approaching was abundantly clear

My Mingling thoughts  scattered far and near

I rose and pondered the reflecting water

My mind engaged in intelligent fodder

Fallacy fixates as the heart grows fonder

I strode observing my mountainous opine

Would words found become fine wine

Poetry proves to be a terrible curse

Especially expecting to quote chapter and verse

Be Still.

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Originally posted on Elan Mudrow:


My cat knows I’m a poet.

It’s in his eyes,

The way they gleam

As he looks at me

While I’m writing.

A recognition,

An observation,

As his purr rolls and

Pulses with his breath

“Have you been sent here?”

I ask him in my mind.

“What dimension,

What time machine

Brought you back

In the form of a cat

To witness the writing

Of a poem?”

He runs from the kitchen

Whenever he hears me

Recite out loud, as I

Test my verse

With my ears,

Listening to my poem.

He must hear

What I’m searching for

He knows what’s right

Before I do.

His ears are much finer.

They must be tuned

To hear rhythms.

Understand the sound

Of Images

How they communicate

Why they communicate

That’s why he took

The form of a cat.

However, he does the same

When he hears me speak

On my cell…

View original 67 more words

Originally posted on Kira Moore's Closet:

A spider sat on the floor, unmoving as I passed by and I wondered, what was I to it? A force of nature or some thing beyond its comprehension?

I realize it is most likely creatures such as humans are beyond  its understanding, a force felt but not seen. A reality too great for limited senses to accept. It was in this moment I hoped there would always be a reality too great for humans to fully understand. I don’t need or want all of the answers. I wish for there to always be just one more hill to climb, one more mystery to uncover, one thing we never find the answer to.

I wish to live in a universe where magic and mystery exist, where there is a never ending quest to find the unfound, to discover the undiscovered, to see the unseen.

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