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tag-williams
tag-williams
American A late starter
Light it up Blue, not just for the kids, though one in eighty eight, should be hard to ignore, Light it up Blue, for all that they do, the teachers, the doctors, the therapist and you Yes parents, light it up Blue Grandma and Grandpa, sisters and brothers, All the good friends and the community too. So, Light it up Blue, For all that they do Shine a light on Autism, let it burn bright, Light it up Blue, There is still much to do.
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Apr 2, 2013
Apr 2, 2013 at 11:40 AM UTC
Light it up Blue
Hey, Grass. What's your point? No sheep, no cows, no dog. I hate You, venomously grow it cut It repeat, ad infinitum. until the mower breaks because it does, every year even the **** Sears fix it, break it grow it cut it, **** it. Hurry, Autumn **** wacker useless piece of **** buy it pawn it grow it cut it **** it. Blacktop, the whole yard teach your punk *** Grass.
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Aug 1, 2011
Aug 1, 2011 at 11:28 AM UTC
I Hate Grass!
A blank slate, nothing. Can it exist? Point to it please. The best I can do is make something from something. A blank piece of paper a fold just there, another just here Became a swan. Paper origami. From nothing came something But how I wonder? Minds greater than mine play with this puzzle. A blank piece of nothing a fold just there, another just here Became a universe Stellar origami.
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May 13, 2011
May 13, 2011 at 11:41 AM UTC
Tabula Rasa
I count seven rosebuds of pink and purple hue on the plant I bought for Mother's Day two years ago The sun is shining after a morning of rain we make plans for dinner. but the house so full just last month is empty now, and silent except for the snip of scissors as Shari cuts the cloth for a new creation, and the scritch of my pen on paper as I write this. The robin out front sings mourning for it's young one fallen from the nest, as ours have done perhaps I need a puppy not to replace, but for company now that Samoa my old cookie is no longer there, right here, where I can reach out my left hand to feel her presence, for my comfort Ahh! There it is just that right spot where the itch lives waiting for my scratch.
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May 10, 2011
May 10, 2011 at 10:59 AM UTC
Mother's Day 2011
remember....damn, what his name... it'a right there... I know I know this... He used to play with the Beatles... Uh...Bass left handed... no, not John Lennon...the other one... not George, you know the other one.... no, definitely not Ringo C'mon Tag you know this... was married to Linda and then that other ***** He wrote "Michelle, my belle" and yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away... sont des mot qui vont tres bien ensemble It's in there tag, don't blame it on the stroke or the smokes how can you not remember this... tres bien ensemble... If I can't remember him even for this brief moment, did he even exist in my solipsistic world.... now I need a place to hide away... Oh crap...McCartney... how do you forget McCartney Paul...duh...
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May 10, 2011
May 10, 2011 at 10:58 AM UTC
A McCartney Moment (with sampling)
we outlive our animals most of the time our friend our family member 11 years last week can't rise on her own today lies quietly in the back yard watching for squirrels chasing them in her imagination as she would when younger and able not many days left now while we with the intelligence and experience undecided to keep her just one more day or let her go now Sam, we will miss you
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May 5, 2011
May 5, 2011 at 7:51 AM UTC
melancholy
Circles, they walk around in them at the mall, at the bus stop like a hybrid human/chicken one winged cocked in the air cellphone tight against cranium to block out the noise of the other half dozen hukens doing the same At times I will hold my phone against cranium to mingle with the flock snippets of information orbit my position in diversity "la perra me dijo que no mueva..." "yeah man I got a lead on a job..." "que el infierno que ella piensa que es ... "it don't pay worth a crap "and it's in Richmond..." "She don't tell me not to move..." and so it goes
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May 5, 2011
May 5, 2011 at 7:47 AM UTC
Circles
One transfer from here to there or there to here sounds like Dr Seuss theres's a man who knew his way around a rhyme even if he has to make up the word. I don't really care about the rhyme life seldom rhymes and you have to make it up most of the time time somewhat like a river say the one Tina sang about sometimes easy sometimes rough I sit at the bus stop which has been tagged though not by me I muse about life sometimes rough sometimes easy then I'm rollin' yeah on the bus from here to there or there to here and from here or there to anywhere And I'm thinking, bout being 16 and Tina and her legs and about Ike though not much and Dr Seuss
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May 2, 2011
May 2, 2011 at 8:51 AM UTC
One transfer
Bukowki wrote "if you have to read it to your wife... ...or anybody at all you're not ready" I read it to my wife she said "O, that's so sad" like a complete noob I changed it now everyone lives happily ever after and it ***** O, Some will like it. Wrap some pretty pictures around the nicey-nice words and BAM it's a children's book But I'll know it ***** and so would Bukowski he may have been an ******* but he knew **** when he saw it
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Apr 28, 2011
Apr 28, 2011 at 10:34 AM UTC
you're not ready
poetry is not on my mind young ladies, younger than my daughters one in particular sitting just across the table from from this old perv at the pretlow branch library Well, I feel like one today. A nice amount of cleavage it's evolution men were made to peek but I feel greasy like an old hot dog sitting in the sun roasting and frying away and there is this thing on a chain just hanging there like the ***** for any old perv like me to look at and try to figure out what it is Got it it's an anchor weighing me down keeping me dead in the water but it brightened up my day
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Apr 28, 2011
Apr 28, 2011 at 10:28 AM UTC
this old perv