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Array ( [sid] => 67010 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => They Call It Junk [time] => 2004-10-11 18:03:04 [hometext] => It's about my life.... Shorta. I was just looking at all the stuff I own and going, Well...my mum thinks this stuff is useless doesn't she? [bodytext] => Soft fuzzy warm days
Of lost love and unseen smiles.
Cute kittens clawing your legs
And chocolate milk going down your throat.

The pellet stove making fire
And the huge room filled with unwanted furniture.
A pomegranate in a bowl
And a rainbow wand bought at a fair.

All these things I love
All these things I need
Fill my rooms and fill my eyes
And they call it junk.

Blue-black earrings that are not mine
And a mooing cow sitting on its butt
A soft ball of claws
And a chewed up bank pencil.

All these things I love
All these things I need
Fill my rooms and fill my eyes
And they call it junk.

Purple kissing
And dying daffodils
Cassette taps ready for recording
And a six page letter from a friend.

All these things I love
All these things I need
Fill my rooms and fill my eyes
And they call it junk.

They call it junk
My life’s collections.
They say they are useless
And mean nothing at all.

All these things I love
All these things I need
Fill my rooms and fill my eyes
And they call it junk.

My paper plate masks
And colorful yarn
My glitter cover candleholder
And a goat postcard.

I hear these things will not help me out
I hear they are ugly and weird
I hear my stuff is creepy
And that I should threw it out.

All these things I love
All these things I need
Fill my rooms and fill my eyes
And they call it junk.

They call it junk. [comments] => 4 [counter] => 179 [topic] => 21 [informant] => SlimStaple [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Lifepoems )
They Call It Junk

Contributed by SlimStaple on Monday, 11th October 2004 @ 06:03:04 PM in AEST
Topic: Lifepoems



Soft fuzzy warm days
Of lost love and unseen smiles.
Cute kittens clawing your legs
And chocolate milk going down your throat.

The pellet stove making fire
And the huge room filled with unwanted furniture.
A pomegranate in a bowl
And a rainbow wand bought at a fair.

All these things I love
All these things I need
Fill my rooms and fill my eyes
And they call it junk.

Blue-black earrings that are not mine
And a mooing cow sitting on its butt
A soft ball of claws
And a chewed up bank pencil.

All these things I love
All these things I need
Fill my rooms and fill my eyes
And they call it junk.

Purple kissing
And dying daffodils
Cassette taps ready for recording
And a six page letter from a friend.

All these things I love
All these things I need
Fill my rooms and fill my eyes
And they call it junk.

They call it junk
My life’s collections.
They say they are useless
And mean nothing at all.

All these things I love
All these things I need
Fill my rooms and fill my eyes
And they call it junk.

My paper plate masks
And colorful yarn
My glitter cover candleholder
And a goat postcard.

I hear these things will not help me out
I hear they are ugly and weird
I hear my stuff is creepy
And that I should threw it out.

All these things I love
All these things I need
Fill my rooms and fill my eyes
And they call it junk.

They call it junk.




Copyright © SlimStaple ... [ 2004-10-11 18:03:04]
(Date/Time posted on site)





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Re: They Call It Junk (User Rating: 1 )
by ALineAboveTheStepBeneath on Monday, 11th October 2004 @ 06:31:56 PM AEST
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Excellent. One of the best I've ever read, I think. You did a GREAT job with this poem... Keep up the good work.


Re: They Call It Junk (User Rating: 1 )
by Lessa on Monday, 11th October 2004 @ 08:02:06 PM AEST
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i danno if u have ever moved but wait till then, then its amazing the junk u fall in love with all over again. The drawing your neice made, the plastic necklace from school, all these thing i love all these things i need. thank you


Re: They Call It Junk (User Rating: 1 )
by thumper on Monday, 11th October 2004 @ 09:59:14 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)
One man's trash is another man's treasure. We all treasure different things. It's all good. Great write. I, myself, am a packrat. I hate it, but there are some things I just won't get rid of. Oh well. :o)
Thumps ; 0)


Re: They Call It Junk (User Rating: 1 )
by Kittenfantastico on Saturday, 23rd October 2004 @ 07:31:05 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)
That is like totally amazing if only the world understood one persons junk is another persons treasure. I know you you feel.




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