Saturday, May 06, 2023

 Find Nelson on @TeePublic #teepublic


Wednesday, August 04, 2021

Society 6

Monday, August 02, 2021

My images on RedBubble

My top sellers. Come in and browse around and you may see something you like. Happy shopping.

Tuesday, June 22, 2021

Why you shouldn’t use a persons name in tags on POD

Friday, May 28, 2021

Cute Tuxedo cat on Red Bubble

Sunday, April 11, 2021

Optical Illusion clock

Wednesday, April 07, 2021

My Images on RedBubble

My top sellers. Come in and browse around and you may see something you like. Happy shopping.

Friday, June 19, 2020

All Lives Matter

My work on RedBubble
All Lives Matter

Art on Society 6

I have artwork on Society 6

Wednesday, March 20, 2019

My works on RedBubble
Pop in and see the updates

Saturday, January 30, 2016

I arrived in Queensland on the 23rd Jan 2016 to begin a new life. So far so good.

Sunday, April 13, 2014

Blind Date (Short story)

A  Short story by TeAnne 1995 © (Edited 2014)

(5 minute fiction.)

IN a cold, dark and mysterious moonless night, the rain fell in large droplets amid the eerie fog which crept slowly over the land from the turbulent ocean.
Christine huddled shivering, covered by a leafy shrub she had managed to crawl under in the darkness. Though she told herself, she must keep moving.

She stumbled and crawled her way through the soggy ground and saturated leaves to a protruding object obstructing her path. She asertained to be an abandoned car, which had been left for sometime in the bush. 
She opened the door which creaked with the movement. Christine felt her way around the interior until she found the glove compartment which was open. Feeling gingerly with short quick taps, she touched on the lighter, and to her surprise it worked, on the first flick. 

She noticed that the car was full of cobwebs and red-back spiders, the glow from the flame shimmering over their backs as she glided the light around. Her body gave an involuntary shiver. "I don't like spiders" she spoke in a whisper.
Protection from the rain in there was out of the question, so she stumbled her way deeper into the overgrown bush, not knowing which direction the road was in.

How she wished she had never agreed to drive up from Perth alone to meet a blind date. How stupid she felt. She could have been tucked up in bed with a good horror story, not living in one. 
A thousand "what ifs" crowded her muddled mind as she relentlessly slumped under the shrubby tree. Her only light source was the gas cigarette lighter she had found in the car. Not a star in the sky nor the moon to give her comfort.  
Her own car, broken down approximately forty kilometers back up the road, she then wondered what had possessed her to leave the comfort and warmth of her vehicle. But the weather had been fine when she broke down.  
She set off again this time in the direction of the road. She told herself she would have to hitch a ride into Geraldton. After what felt like hours, Christine's fingers touched the bitumen texture of the road and she felt re-assured.
"Now, if only a car would come along" she though.
With luck on her side a car suddenly and silently sidled up beside her, a man opened the passenger door for her to slip soggily into the vacant seat.

The driver was silent as she babbled on about her car and the miserable weather. Once her eyes had conditioned themselves to the semi- darkness and the light from the dash board, she was able to focus her gaze on the good Samaritan behind the wheel of the slow moving silent vehicle.
The man turned and faced her with his wide smile. Christine sat stunned for a full ten seconds with mouth agape and eyes wide. She could not believe what she was seeing. 
Her charitable saviour had no eyes. He was driving blind!!!!!!!

With a blood curdling scream she managed to fumble with the door handle and hurl herself out onto the road, where she tumbled, bounced and scraped herself to safety into the overgrown bush-land beside the road.

Then the rain suddenly ceased and from a near-by bush she heard an indescribable noise. Nothing she had ever heard before. 
Christine's heart began to hammer harder in her chest where she placed her hand as if to repel it from expulsion from her very being. Her breathing rasped in and out in quick short bursts and her eyes felt as large as twenty cent pieces.

The rustling in the bushes and the horrifying noise grew louder as it moved in closer to her location, where she felt like live bait! 
For what ever it was, was heading in her direction fast. She could hear a car way off in the distance, so she knew it couldn't have been Mr. No Eyes returning or was it? He had vanished as quickly as he had appeared. Maybe it was finally someone who could help her.

Christine looked beyond the tall trees and noticed that the fog and the sky were beginning to clear. Some low lying fog remained, if not for that bit of fog, she would have been able to see the low branch to the right of her head, as she dashed away from her protecting tree. Turning suddenly, banging her head, she experienced little bright yellow stars dancing before her eyes. Then, the noise brought her back to reality. 

Somehow, it now sounded like distorted purring.
All of a sudden she felt a hot sensation on the nape of her neck and an eerie coldness enfolded her. The stench of the hot substance was overpowering and it sent her reeling into unconsciousness.

A slurping, sucking sensation with excruciating pain aroused her from her semi-coma. The sight of what she  was confronted  with, was the horror of all horrors.!!!!

Christine, poor, poor Christine was undoubtedly being devoured alive!!!

By nothing less than Dracula!!.... Her once loving pet cat, whom had been missing for ten years. As Christine's life slowly ebbed away, she was hypnotized by something about the cat's eyes.
Something................ Human?

VIOLENT POETRY

June 13 Contest Award Poetic Dreamscapes
AGAIN SHE CRIES. 
As they drove home on a deserted road
the demon in their veins still fluidly flowed,
with mounted tension causing friction,
they began as usual their drunken dissension.
Clenched fists on faces connected
brakes slammed, a door flung wide
and onto the road he angrily pushed her
While in the back seat, a little girl cried.
The woman he left sobbing on the road
with an arm broken from a twist of his hold.
Then he reversed and ran over her feet.
Frightened, the little girl  ran, tried to escape!
He pursued the little girl until he caught her
Grabbing her hands and feet, he hoisted her
back bent and belly towards the darkened sky
as if in pagan proffer while his wife cried
‘Please, spare the life of our daughter’!
They promised again and again not to drink.
Over twenty five years passed in drunken abuse,
then with age and sickness, they were forced
to keep their long ago promise’s forgotten.
To spite the violence, the little girl still felt love
and when they died, different tears she sobbed.
The memories fragmented spanned over time
uninvited visions, of a little girl, lost and terrified,
creep into a grown woman’s night time mind.
Again last night, the little girl, inside me cried!
 
TeAnne © Oct. 19. 1998 
TELL ME WHY DADDY 

Its not fair, that the innocent endure the shame
after all, we were stolen, we were not to blame.
You and me, we share a secret
so painful, of lost innocence, regret.
The shame, it should be theirs, not ours
it wasn't theirs to pick.
Our secrets shared are familiar, our memories are the same,
our lives, to each are similar, we'll never name their name.
When like a lightening bolt, we awaken from  nightmares sleep
our scars cut open again, for our precious flower, we can only weep
Though our lives by years, are far apart, we could be Siamese twins,
we share a broken heart and recollect, a fathers’ mortal sins.
We sense each other's pain and let our tears flow free
but our tears we cry inside, for outsiders, inside us, never see.
Were they sorry for what they did, I think not
We were children, their possessions they begot.
The law didn't punish their crime and we couldn't trust them
they were supposed to guide us through life, not our lives to hell, condemn
I pray you're not hurting dear friend, as we spoke again this day
it all came rushing back at me, I had to write it down, this way
and purge the memories that inside us, just wont go away
I hope and pray that one day,
our God will know, where the blame to lay!
This poem is for a very special friend!
TeAnne © Sept 25.1998 

STRANGER DANGER!
Walking home from school
'Want a lolly, little girl'?
'No, Mummy said, Don't talk
to Strangers'.
~
Walking home from work
'Want a ride, my lovely'?
'No, Mother said, Don't talk
to Strangers'.
~
After a Marriage and divorce
Walking home from work
'Want a lift, young lady'?
'I can take you to places
you have never seen, give
you highs so high,
you'll need a parachute'!
'And what will all this cost me'?
she asks.
'Just be nice to my friends' says he.
~
She didn't count on aids and
a drug over dose. If only.....
she had remembered what her
Mother once said.!
~

© Oct. 30.1998 
A NIGHT IN THE NUT HOUSE!
Oh’ don’t leave me
please hold my hand
Leave the light on
‘Who is that man’?
~
Take off this jacket
I cannot breathe
Hate hugging myself
I’m begging now......Please?
~
They were mild sleepers
A Doctors’ prescribe
I didn’t mean to do it
I had no intention.....to die!
~
Take these electrodes off
I am not mad
Just a little depressed
Forlorn, some times sad.
~
Let me out of here
I don’t belong, between  walls of  foam
these walls are closing fast
Just let me out!...Let me go home...........
~
TeAnne © Oct. 30. 1998 

Falling down DRUNK!

 

Loud mouth at nights end
With fists bruised and bloody
Swears black and blue
That yellow is red.
Falling down drunk
He broke all the rules
Big tough he man
He thought he was cool.
TeAnne © May 7.1999
FOR THE LOVE OF OUR CHILDREN

Guns in the hands of  babes, as young as six
gone are the values of reading, writing, and arithmetic
Drugs in the veins of the young
“Hey kid, sell your body,” this song is sung.
Again, the head-lines say!
in the ‘Land of the Free’, no child at play .
The murder of kids by kids
who trade a gun, for the highest bids.
In the ‘Lucky Country’ it’s happening too
Our nation of copy-cats, once true blue.
The movies from Hollywood say it’s right
to shoot your enemy, your mother, your wife!
The ‘do-gooders’ say their doing their job
Your kid is out there, learning to rob.
The atrocities allowed by government and God
When will you learn? Stop sparing the rod.
Flaunting their sex, for all to lust
and shoot your brother, if they must
and pass their needles, for all to share
Where are their parents, do they care?
Show your kid who is boss
take a stand and cut your loss
Take the guns from their hands,
Help them grow, to be a man.
The almighty dollar is God, when it’s all said and done
the kids are shooting, life's new fun!
Read the signs, scan life’s map
Load a chamber, pop a cap!
TeAnne © June 16. 1998
Re- written 14 Sept. 1998
* I am not holding anyone to blame* 
Futuristic Urbanism 

Pounded pavements
midnight screams
muted bullets
hospital basements.
Coma memories
forgotten lives
slain in alleys
hell is night.
Children laughed
songbirds sung
streets in war
schools' un-done.
Pounded pavements by the boys in blue
midnight screams, murder, not a clue.
Muted bullets killed her silent
hospital basements house the victim of violence.
Coma memories of the drugged
forgotten lives that once was.
Slain in Alleys a drug crazed mind
hell is night for the blind.
Children laughed in the playground free
songbirds sung a tweety birds plea
Streets of war killed us all
schools un-done, nuclear fall. 

 
June 15 1998  and 14 Sept 1998 © 
GOD FORGIVE ME !
 
It’s not up to me to discredit you
or protect you , it’s not my aim
To keep your name from the world
because I think you suffered just the same
and Mother said
“It’s not right to speak ill of the dead.”
I wish I could tell it all
of thirty-two years ago
but to punish you now for all this wrong
seems futile now you’re dead
and Mother said
“It’s not right to speak ill of the dead.”
I was awake at the time of your deceit,
and I’ve no desire to defile you, as you did to me
nothing will release this heart of ache.
and Mother said
“It’s not right to speak ill of the dead.”
You never apologised or told me why you hurt me
when you stole my innocence that day
I was barley in my teens
youth and  purity was mine to keep
but you took it all away
and no-one would believe my story.
and Mother said
“Its not right to speak ill of the dead.”
I, but punished for your sins
for your pleasure of me
and for my own protection
they threw away the key
While you walked free and had life easy.
I the victim, was treated as a whore
But it is not I who judges you
only God can do that  you now
and Mother said
“It’s not right to speak ill of the dead.”
Now I must learn to forgive and forget
and in the closet, put the skeletons back
I’ll try to cope and live inside my walls
but these scars are permanent
and I always will remember
and Mother said
“It’s still not right to speak ill of the dead.
© TeAnne  April 16. 1998

STRUCTURED POETRY

ABC - Z. (3 Poems) 

Always, we promised and we
Believed the things we said.
Caring and sharing, a priority
Darling, what went wrong?
Eyes roving strangers faces
Forever searching for similarities.
Grey days turn to black nights
Heavy teardrops fall
Inside this empty soul.
Jaded now, the dreams we shared
Kisses, soft lips, longing, now
Lost, forever in our past.
Monument of your photos scattered
Novelette of the love untold.
Only to awaken to loneliness.
People look into my eyes and
Question my thoughts
Regrets are many and
Smiles are few, with
Thorns where blooms once grew.
Un-voiced thoughts, you will never hear
Veiled by walls of despair
Weighing heavily in memories
X-rayed and reflected  mirrored in
Your eyes too.
Zapped back to reality.
 © July 6th. 1998 


 (Responses to a couple of friends ABC poems.) 
Ho Hum! 

All I can say is
Brilliant writing from Rapid and Perry
Certainly they have the talent
Does it come naturally?
Evidently it does
For I am not as prolific with words, as they.
Goes to show
How hard I have to struggle
Importance of rhyme is lost with me
Joking is my limit
Knowledge is lacked and
Limerick is also a struggle
Might give it up and leave it to the experts, but
Never to put pen
On paper again will cause
Permanent damage to my moral.
Question my sanity, maybe.
Rhythm is what I need and
Spelling is a bother.
Too many versions of a word is mis-
Understood by me.
Very confusing
When you front the best.
X word is a hard one
Yearning for a new X word is a strain
Zulu warriors could do better.
 © July 7th. 1998


Poising of Pens 


Ah ha, the truth now do I see 
brains are ideal for this style of poetry. 
Copycat styles! Now who said that? It surly 
don’t matter, to make it match. If my 
escapism, to another‘s 
face, can bring a smile. Just 
grin and bare with me for awhile, as 
happiness I will try to spark. 
Idealism I’m striving for to make my mark. 
Just gimme a century or two to find the score. 
Kids learn to rhyme in the Queens’ 
lingo at an early age, but I, was intellectually poor. 
My time, passed me by, when in school, I 
never learnt poetry and such rules. 
Only to bash boys, I did it much. And they bashed me back. 
Plays and essays I was a dunce and 
questions and answers, I never hatched. 
Rapid - Fire, you crack us up 
since meeting you here, for your help, we thank you so much. 
Tell me now, is it true? 
Understanding, of my poetry, is it easy for you? 
Vacancy in my head. You made us chuckle. 
with  your poem, ‘The Levi Shuffle’ 
Xenophopbia, none of that  here! 
Your poetry made sure of that. Its clear! The 
zenith, is where we’re all aiming at.

TeAnne © July 7. 1998 
A LONG DISTANCE MILE 


I had travelled for days and for hours 
You greeted me, with beautiful flowers 
a look of delight, a kiss and a smile 
For you, I had travelled a long distance mile.
The promise of love and a silver band
“Welcome! your new life, to this new land”
In your clutches, engaged by that smile
For you, I had travelled a long distance mile.
The love we shared was our delight
then broken promises, in just one fight
Now all is lost but I remember that smile
For you, I had travelled a long distance mile.
 © Sept 19. 1998 


HOLD ME 

Stoke the fire, dim the light
envelope me, in pure delight
Hold me.
Stroke my fire, make me glow
Ensnare me, coppice slow
Hold me.
Stroke my hair, make it shine
Tie me up, in silken twine
Hold me.
Cradle my head, with strong hand
Don’t let this be, a one-night stand
Hold me.
Gently, pat the flesh of my skin
Lead me now, into feral sin
Hold me.
TeAnne © Sept 20. 1998 

Are You Willing To Take A Step With Me?


How do we rekindle our affection
It's been many years gone by
We parted on an angry note
And regret the words we said
It's been many years gone by
Blinded then we didn't see
And regret the words we said
Could we recapture our dreams
Blinded then we didn't see
I've been trying to forget
Could we recapture our dreams
Do you care enough to try
I've been trying to forget
How unhappy life has been
Do you care enough to try
Are you willing to take a step with me
How unhappy life has been
It's been hard living without you
Are you willing to take a step with me
To rebuild what we had so real
It's been hard living without you
We parted on an angry note
To rebuild what we had so real
How do we rekindle our affection?
(Pantoum Style) A Poem To Daryl.
TeAnne © June 3 1999
BRANDED PIG
Lying
            PIG
                    PIG
                            PIG
You think you are Mr BIG
You broke the heart of SIG *
You never gave a FRIGG
Yeah you are just a PRIG
We'll snap you like a TWIG
Then your grave we will DIG
And on it do a JIG
Not polite to RENEGE
                                PIG
                          PIG
                  PIG
Branded
* Sigorney
TeAnne © Feb 18.1999 
BUT IT’S NOT COUNT DRACULA! (Villanelle)
He cast his spells with his evil eye
and arms outstretched! Triangular
Then bemused, he howled a sigh!
His coven searched his face for a lie
whilst remaining tall! Perpendicular
He cast his spell with his evil eye
They believed their Bedouin never to die
contrary to belief! Cerebrovascular
Then bemused, he howled a sigh!
He ordered them, dance! They never asked why
and formed the largest circle! Spectacular
He cast his spell with his evil eye
He scanned this circle with his evil eye
and chose the virgin! Most popular
Then bemused, he howled a sigh!
He strode toward her, his fate was nigh
Then slumped in a heap! T ‘was cardiovascular.
He cast his spell with his evil eye
Then bemused, he howled a sigh!
TeAnne © Feb 4. 1999 
Children Caught Between Two Opposing Forces.
(Villanelle)
While Danny is locked in the closet at home,
and Father made Mother vanish, into the night
Eddy is happy, on the streets to roam,
leaving Mother in a state of confound, on her own.
Danny's seethe can't be controlled, poor mite!
While Danny is locked in the closet at home.
His bruise, a result of Fathers’ drunken fist alone,
he blames ergonomics for his seed so slight.
Eddy is happy, on the streets to roam.
Mothers’ chagrin overwhelm her asking a loan
to keep Eddy out of prison and fights.
While Danny is locked in the closet at home.
Now Eddy is mixing nitrogen with foam
And plans a journey of a different sight.
Eddy is happy, on the streets to roam.
Mother and Fathers’ contrast of life has shown
Two young brothers, caught between this force of plight
While Danny is locked in the closet at home.
Eddy is happy, on the streets to roam.
TeAnne © Feb.7. 1999 
~*~ WINNER OF THE ANNUAL  Echoes Poetry Journal Message Board CONTEST ~*~ 

Echoes Through My Mind


Echoes whisper from the distance
Challenging me, 'come and dance'
Hovering on the brink of loneliness
Offers like this so hard to repress
Evening evolves into velvety night
Silently drawn, into a new delightThrough passages unfamiliar I drift
Highway's promise to enchanted gift
Realms glistening in trophies bold
Overtly inviting remembrance old
Unlimited pleasures promise to come
Guilt and desire all rolled into one
Hastily we dance in seductive duet
My partner and I have only just met
Young and astral he makes me feel
Mind seduce and soul doth steal
In a trice, I collapse at his feet
Now concede my life's retreat
Death has been swift he was not un-kind
~
An apparition Echoes Through My Mind
TeAnne © June 1st 1999

Echoes (Lai Style)


Echoes through my mind
a true love to find
Rewind.
Your love was unkind
and my eyes were blind
Unbind.
You left me behind
After you had wined
and dined.
TeAnne © June 2. 1999 
EMBARRASSING MOMENT
--------------------------
A photographic memory
For any persons face
When it is a name.
Better to forget it Jack!
I am in disgrace.
Saw your twin the other night
His name I could not place
He has no claim to fame.
Could it be his name is Mack?
My thoughts are out in space.
Embarrassing it can be
For a name to displace
Seems I am ashamed.
I want my memory back!
It's gone without a trace.
~
© Feb 28.1999
Break Line
THE DOOR IS OPEN FOR YOU.
--------------------------------
You can kiss my heart goodbye
It isn't yours any more
Someone else will take your place
I don't want you any more.
Someone else can have you
You can lie and cheat on them
It is over!
See the door?
Go thru' it!
And don't come back again.
~
TeAnne © Feb 28 1999
Break Line
EXPOSED
I hope you can sleep at night, I truly
Wanted to love you, but you have left many wounds.
A game of chance you played? You said you would
Never hurt me, but you lied, you
Tormented me with your ingenious
Entreats. I swear, you are a master of
Deception and games of the mind .
The king of seduction. Your ego, a wealth of cheer? I made an
Oath to myself to live in self denial. In a
Limbo’s dream, a fairyland
Of empty closet’s mind. I filled my
Voids with ‘other’stupidity but you
Enticed my walls to crumble, and impregnated daydreaming!
You came, wielding life’s hammer and eluded
Obstacles in your path, that I put
Up to protect me. I thought I was strong enough. I so foolishly, let you.
TeAnne © 22 April 1998.  
Acrostic poetry defines a style of verse in which the opening or closing letters,
 or letters arranged by some other system, conveys a special message or names a
person, place or thing. This presents a rare challenge to the poet, yet is rewarded
when the reader discovers the hidden message. Most Acrostic poetry is simple in
  its approach, but some can be ingenious, crafty and cryptic. At the very least,
                          this style is fun!
                  The poetry of TeAnne © 1993,1994,1997 & 1998  All Rights reserved.
IT IS FINALLY OVER FOR ME
  
I am free at last
Torment me not againI finally let you go and return
Sanity in sleep
Finished are dreams
Invaded by your semblance
Non committal, you
Are no - more
Last night was the finality, at
Long last I realised
You cheated me out of love
One sided love and
Vented anger on
Each other had only
Repercussions for destruction
Finally I awaken to this
Obtuse virtual
Reality
Memories will only
Echo for a short time.
TeAnne © Mar 8.1998
#1. 
HE TOOK ALL OF MY EMOTIONS AWAY 
(Villanelle Style) 
He took all of my emotions away
He said it was for my own good
Depression is a major killer today
After all, learnt his truth is to relay
So I do as I'm told, I suppose I should
He took all of my emotions away
Emotionless life is a stranger way
I cannot cry or sigh, I wish I could
Depression is a major killer today
Strolling in a trance from day to day
Glassy eyed, a brain built like wood
He took all of my emotions away
No more fun or games can I play
Life from a plastic bottle isn't good
Depression is a major killer today
I feel so numb, my reactions delay
It's Doc's fault. I am not understood
He took all of my emotions away
Depression is a major killer today.
© Nov. 19. 1998 

FLY

# 2.
FLY DROPPINGS
Don't
let the flies in mate
Don't
hold the door open wide. I
Don't
like chasing them around
all day.
with the spray and
fly swat.
Toxins up my nose, it can’t
be good
for my hay fever and
the environment.
But them little buggers,
I have to kill
before they ruin walls and
benches and curtains with
their dirty little spots.
Kill them
before they kill us
with their germs.
 © Nov. 18.1998 

FLY

# 3.
FLY DROPPINGS 2
(Villanelle Style)
Don't let the flies in my house, mate
Don't open the door too bloody wide.
I don't hold much hope for their fate
Tiny creatures flying in here I hate
Toxins up my nose I won't abide
Don't let the flies in my house, mate
To relieve my hay fever I'll hang a bait
But them little buggers sure like to hide
I don't hold much hope for their fate
On TV this little ditty for years relate
In the jingle, made famous it's "Louie Da Fly"
Don't let the flies in my house, mate
On the TV his song is a grade 'A' rate
Spreading germs from rubbish tips far and wide
I don't hold much hope for their fate
Get the Mortein strips before it's too late
Give poor old "Louie" a funeral, he died
Don't let the flies in my house, mate
I don't hold much hope for their fate.
TeAnne © Nov. 19. 1998 FLY
IT'S YOU
  


Juxtaposed for a time
evenings' moon to share
feverish entanglements and
flashings of lust
Diaries of secrets keep from view
Hearten all memories
enthralling moments alive
store these scenes
together with my treasures
euphoria
remembered.
Feb. 28.1998

Acrostic poetry defines a style of verse in which the opening or closing letters, or letters arranged by some other system, conveys a
special message or names a person, place or thing. This presents a rare challenge to the poet, yet is rewarded when the reader
discovers the hidden message. Most Acrostic poetry is simple in its approach, but some can be ingenious, crafty and cryptic. At the
very least, this style is fun!
I stole this explanation from Jay @ FOOTSTEPS 
NAIL BITING WOE
M ention your name and
vocative notions erupt but
N autical miles separate
T eems with compelled longing
A mounts to
L esions of the heart
*
A rms around I crave
N ail biting woe
G radually intensified
U nrest lingering
I nside heavily
S aturated
H eartfelt anxiety.
TeAnne © Mar 31. 1998
NOWHERE 
(Rondeau Style)
Nowhere does my road lead
Nor sewing of life's seed
He was no God nor Icon
Neither a man of steel or Iron
Just a man, full of need.
We fell in love and we were free
Blinded then, I didn't see
I followed my heart. I was wrong
Nowhere.
I went to his side on a beckoned plea
he vowed everlasting love for me
I amble now and stagger along
with mind and soul, of a lonesome song
My heart again, I will never heed.
Nowhere.
TeAnne © Dec. 8. 1998. 
“Revenge”
H ence you came
E lectrified imagination formed.
L asting impressions of our
L ove stored in a
H eart so hidden
A matter of the mind!
T ainted lust called love.
H ate they tell, extensions of love.
N arration
O f
F airy tales dissolved
U n-leashed thy nemesis
R age of heart
Y earnings forged, you
L eft me with the colours of loneliness
I ridescent fragments of
K isses in the night
E xisted once
A sensation of physical enlivenment.
W hat possessed us to fall in love
O ver indulged intoxication became a
M eaningless
A nti-climax
N ull and void.
S corned and
C ornered a deluge of
O dium replaced my
R easons to believe
N eedless
E go
D rain.
TeAnne © 7 April. 1998 
SHARED
Melancholy memories of a mate of mine
You were younger and then, so was I.
Nudging the envelope, the things we did
Allowing the night to spark our live with fizz.
Many a time we over stepped the line
Electric life, you stroked your time.
Slivers of your life just slipped away
Alone, I watched you degrade our names.
Kiss of death was your fate as you
Escaped this world, in nineteen eighty two.
TeAnne © Apr. 27. 1998 
TOMORROW NEVER COMES.
Tomorrow, I am wearing my Barbie Doll faces
and my body is curving, in all the right places
I am competent, slim, elegant and tall
I'm breaking young hearts, of men who fall.
*
Tomorrow I am worldly and famous with riches
I beat "Joan Colins", as the queen of bitches
I am dripping diamonds in a field of rocks
and leaving eyes hungry and open in shock
*
Tomorrow I am lavishly gifted, in arts and demure
With a grand mansion of gold, by the oceans shore
I am soaring across the celestial dimension
winging my way, as 007’s intention
*
Tomorrow I have come to him bearing a bud
and he, words so eloquent, in language of love
Alas, blurred awakening, my senses are numb
Woefully aware, Tomorrow, never will come!
*
TeAnne © Oct. 24 1998 
THE BUS WENT RIGHT ON BY
  
 
THE day began in the early hour,
At half past six, I ran for the shower.
I got on line, to e-mail a mate,
I had to hurry, not polite to be late.
I hurried up the road at the rightful hour
All my hopes had then turned sour,
That damn BUS just went right on by
I rolled my eyes toward the sky
I couldn’t believe, I had run out of time.
It was just after five past nine
I had to sit and wait for the next
I was sure by now my day was hexed.
As the bus WENT on the tour of the city
It wasn’t a sight see, mores the pity
RIGHT on time, it pulled up in front,
For ON the express I had managed to jump
BY now I have learnt my lesson
No computers in the morn’, will I be messin’.
TeAnne © 16 Feb 1999 
THE WORST YEAR OF MY LIFE
A year of heartache and bittersweet memories began 
Broadening my horizons, I travelled, leaving family and friends. 
Chased my dreams to a far away land 
Dreams of happiness ( I thought) with a special man 
Emptiness was left as the dreams, died and crumpled. 
February the 27th took my Mother to a higher plain 
God is good she told me, as she passed away 
Her life meant everything to me, I feel lost without her 
die and grieve inside on every Christmas Day, her birth. 
July 12th came and Daddy of a broken heart, died 
Killed of all my emotions, the Doctors delight. 
Left like an empty shell and bored 
May, brought to me a cyber-love I adored. 
Notorious for his thrilling ways, he informed 
On-line, the interloper of love and forever, intoned. 
Paradise was lost as I grew restless in my home 
Quickly sold my life and everything I owned. 
Responsibility and my art placed aside, for in 
September, the meeting with my Cyber-love, face to face 
To Texas, I travelled to live with this fellow mate. 
Understanding, was what he lacked as I pined for home. 
Victim of cancer too, my white cat called Sam. 
Why, I must ask, the year of all my catastrophes? 
Xantippe had nothing at this stage, on me 
Year of opportunity my stars predicted and my 
Zodiac reading said, 1997 was a good year to enjoy. 
TeAnne © Jan 13. 1999 
Footnote: 
Xantippe (zæn’tipi) or Xanthippe n. 1. the wife of Socrates, proverbial as a scolding and quarrelsome woman. 2. any nagging, peevish, or irritable woman.
TROUBLE IS COMING. 
You think you’re having fun mate! 
You drink and drive! You gad about! 
You will be sorry! 
You will be sorry! When it’s too late! 
For now you’re young, a wilful lout! 
Filled with power and not a worry! 
Filled with power and not a worry! Wise guy! 
As a friend I try to help, and 
Show you the errors of your way! 
Show you the errors of your way! I cry! 
Alas! In terrible trouble you will land! 
If you don’t stop what you do, today! 
  (Chain Rhyme) TeAnne © 27. Jan 1999
WHAT IF?...
W hat if - the earth spun backwards
O r tomorrow never came
R eality became yesterdays, yesterday
L essons learned never taught
D ays going by twenty at a time
W hat if  - we could see our loved ones gone and say
 I love you
T ell them what they never
H eard or what we didn't say
ur lives as we know it never was
U seless tomorrow and
T oday would never be
E ve and Adam had a second chance
N ew history to create but our
D estiny who's will.
TeAnne © Mar 19.1998
Tribute to Bernadette Ann March 19. 1973 - April 27.1973