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Mark Penfold Sep 2018
The Pigeon Gent,
He woos and coos around the river bent.
Pursues his muse with artful dance and skillful prance,
With inflated neck and ruffled plumage, until his energy or luck is spent.
He then resides by ebbing tides to ponder on his next advance.

"Now Now", "Whats This" the gent exclaims,
A shadow looming from the skies.
With ***** and claps he glides and lands with  full surprise,
He spies the intruder, "A fellow Brooder".
Pigeon gent cant believe his eyes.

Pigeon Gent cannot believe the sauce,
The scurge seems intent on taking his prize by force.
At once he knows he must respond,
And force this illbread vagabond to abscond.

At once chest puffed and muscles flexed,
With wild eyes he jabs and pecks.
To teach this ruffian respect,
So on his actions he may later reflect.
He stands his ground both large and proud,
To make example of this foul winged burglar from the clouds.

"You insult me sir" he shouts aloud,
To make his intentions clear for all the crowd.
For several rounds they fight and scuffle.
With intruder retreating, feathers ruffled.

Then bested suiter fairly parted,
The quarrel ends as fast as started.
The vanquished victor displays and grooms,
As peace and honour now resumes.

Soon the ripples upset the green,
An armada of ducks come on the scene.
Alerted by the heightend coos,
They race to see what act insues.

The mighty mallards, Kings of the river,
None contest their right of way.
Their ways of conduct such generous givers.
Majestic river royalty, the law is always what they say.

On bank or shallow pebbled river they have always been,
They love to feed and breed amongst the river scene.
There royal cape made up of browny reds and shimmering greens,
reflects and intejects on mirrored water skies and evergreens.

To their mates for life and lady lovers,
The mallard gent is like no others.
Such loyalties are seldom seen,
In modern times and different dreams.
Fine and lean with striking features,
Best examples of river teachers.

But at any moment no matter how abrubt,
A river duel may easily erupt.
Battle can ensue and rage,
As both apponents approach and engage.
For they mate for life as duck and wife,
A rarity in any age or life.
Wai Phyo Win Dec 2018
Who is the suiter, what they say?
flassless and pure as you are
Even a perfect cut diamond sure has needles and clouds as its born bigger
May not worthy for the museum collector
It has some value despite having major pinpoints and feathers
Rational thinking process is the only factor and matter
Story
Lew  Dec 2018
suiter
Lew Dec 2018
you make my head feel full of air
like a hit from a nitrous balloon
like a snort of ******* in the afternoon
like champagne bubbles rushing up in ribbons from the bottom of the flute
yes
it is you i suit
brandon nagley Sep 2015
Modern day slavery, hath manacled man's hand's and feet. Chained, tied, blindfolded, leading to one's demise. It cometh by many form's; pride, envy, wrath, gluttony, lust, sloth, and greed. Thus a free willed decision, with Lucifer making rich men affluent; wealthy they've become, off bomb's, secret societal seed. Thieve's of tribal territorie's, madmen of brutal glory!!!
Mind control ruler's, martial law suiter's, polluter's of land gone to waste. O' prosperous creature, what hath thou done? Tooketh holy scripture's of God from public schooling's, passing out satanic fooling's; becoming puppet's for Beelzebub? Suicide's, sky high, as parent's, thou hath left thine son's. At the bar? Bellie's enlarged: isn't that smoke and drink enough? Got the good stuff? High on bag's of dust? Wife at home? Cheating stealthy mode, and thou wondereth why it's thee who shalt succumb!!!! The terra firma hath turned wretched, stenched by the elite's Gucci cover, whilst the world killeth one another, on war's to maketh money off of the deaf, dumb, and blind; awakest, now's the time ....................Global collapse, it's just around the corner mine friend's.......



©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
Mike Hauser May 2014
I use these cards to tell a story
I use them as a metaphor
The love of the heart, the riches in found in diamonds
All in this game of cards

I use the spades to uncover treasure
With the clubs I guard my score
And still I deal 52 in measure
Playing of the cards

As the Queen holds Suiter's in numbers
Fist clutching tight, Ace in the hole
As the King stands by in royal oblivion
The Joker laughs on

So guard your heart in all its glory
Diamonds does not riches make
No matter what they say a ***** is still a *****
Clubs only get in the way

I use these cards to tell a story
I use them as a metaphor
Have you seen yourself in the deal that I just dealt
Life's a lively game of cards
Anais Vionet  Feb 2023
snipits
Anais Vionet Feb 2023
I shaved my legs this morning. “Alexa, put dinosaur Band-Aids on my shopping list.”

Once you get in the college routine, time speeds up
One minute you’re young and carefree
the next you’re young and free-time free.

MIT guys

A group of MIT students were visiting Yale for some event. Sophie, Anna and I were in the residential dining hall. I’d finished eating and I was trying to read, when this group of MIT guys swauntered in.

My impression of MIT guys is that they’re short and they flirt a lot. They’re all over the place, like they’re manic or on holiday and they think they’re going to pick up girls. (on a Tuesday night)

One guy said, “I’m new to the area, could you help me with directions to your house?”

Another came up with, “I’ve just become religious, ‘cause you’re the answer to my prayers.”

“What are you up to tonight?” This short stranger asks, leaning rudely on our table and acting like he’s lookin’ to get inside-the-ride.

“I’ve gotta read two chapters before tomorrow,” I said, somewhat annoyed with these dinkheads. They finally decided (realized) we’re boring and moved on to other female diners.

standing in line

Americans seem to love lines. I hate standing in lines. People don’t line up for things in Paris. There aren’t “bus lines.” The person who guessed right and is closest to where the bus door stops and opens, or the quickest person or the most ruthless person will be first on the bus. There aren’t any lines at cinemas or the boulangerie (bakery) or even at the Apple store - Apple tried to impose American style order - but #forgetaboutit.

possible mistakes

“I want a blonde boyfriend,” Leong said out of the random last night,
”and dye my hair blonde.” Leong’s from Macau, China. Her glossy, cornsilk hair is a sumptuous curtain of raven black.

“Noo,” Anna and Lisa said, almost in unison.
“I’d trade you,” I said, freely offering my baby blonde rat's-nest.

“There’s an individual,” Leong began, “I see when leaving chemistry class, who has the most beautiful head of frosted blonde tips. Let me just show you,” she says, pulling up her phone.

“You got a picture?” Sunny asked - she loves stalking.
“No!” Leong snorted, insultedly, “Investigative research on Instagram.”

“Is this a potential mate?” Sophie asked.
”I think it’s a suiter,” Leong said, slyly smiling, to laughs all around.

“Woah, Let me see em!” Lisa said, reaching for the phone.
“Gimmie!” Anna demands too.

“Should I project it?” Leong asks, waving her phone around to protect it.
“Hells, yes!” Sophie practically shouts.

“So, it’s the frosted tips that get you?” Sunny says, “Ooo, PSA, if you’re a man looking for a beautiful Chinese lover..”

Our 55” TV becomes Leong’s Insta feed and the pic pops up.

There’s a second of silence. “I think it’s a girl,” Lisa said, squinting and tilting her head.

We all study the pic. Is this the right person? I wonder.

“You may be a Lesbian,” Sunny whispers, before the room descends into chaos.
slang
swaunter = saunter with swagger
inside the ride = get an invitation to something.. personal.
dinkhead = immature morons
Her smile can **** or heal your very soul. Ocean waters painted in her Eye's as she looks into the motives of your heart. Her skin is as soft & silky as the inner down feathers of a dove with constellations of freckles perfectly placed. Hair like satin. When she speaks the beauty of her warm tone resonates through you like enchanting music. Gorgeously crafted from head to toe with a noticeable glow. A diligent mother gifted with talent. Impressive her children are charming, gentle & kind a true reflection of her stellar design. She unexpectedly consumes your mind & claims your love. Bedazzled by her beautiful charisma You find yourself a captive of her humor and a hunter of her happiness.
The nobile ruler of her world the prestige princess surrounded by only those she deems as worthy. Every womens envy. Every man's dream. She won't be had, for no suiter is suited for her. Only a knight in shinning armour might quench the longing of her imagination. Mysteriously clever. Finds the adventure in her endeavor. A jewl you can't find with a treasure map. Solid gold ticker her wit is quicker. A colorful butterfly by nature always in flight. Her grin is priceless & time stops with every smile. One of many keys her confidence is stunning on her. Honesty is her cheif virtue. She's a courageous  bubbly delight who never backs down from an honorable fight. Cross her twice and pay the price but she'll let you live because she forgives. Definitely has grit just won't quit until it's time to knit. She is the maze master and the missing puzzle piece. An awe-in-spi-ring companion. Untamed & magical her spell is already upon you. A marvel with merit. A guardian angel to some a gift for others. I sense I've waited since the dawn of our galaxy to whipe away her tears & calm her fears. To hold her against this rugged shell. So very close for her to draw out from the unbridled compassion. Letting her submerge into the depths of my being to harvest comfort & peace from within a fundamental warrior spirit. Armed with iron will, valor, integrity, versatility & righteousness. Sworn to an oath I will use these traits to battle heroically in life or even death to sheild her naked soul from creations malice. To protect, shelter, provide, nourish & cloak her fragile body. To put light in the darkness. Fulfilling her desires & pleasure is a privilege I honor. My intentions, only to gratefully share our eternal connection bestowed by an essential heavenly grace. Freed from doubt by intimate caring and loyalty. Cleansed of spite by our affection. Two minds in sync dancing with one another  harboring clear understanding as we Flourish in our blessed lives. Coalesced beating as one the hearth of our hearts burns bright with the remarkable love we share together. Christina Baldwin, she is a breathtaking miracle.
I wrote this about a special person and she is the love of my life
Under Empty Skies  May 2017
Annie
What if on that night I told you I was in love with you?
Would these steel seams melt away?
Would this collection of misguided dreams dissipate in the rain?
Would you have been mine and everything would've stayed the same for the years that've passed us up and locked away our inner emotions?
Would you have ever felt that way?
Why did you ever tell me you loved me the same.
Because since then all I've ever wanted is to kiss you the way we kiss in my dreams.
Or my nightmares I should say.
Cause every time I day dream about you I think I'm in hell.
Forced to remember all the good times we buried in those hollow wooden caskets sealed tighter than any imagination I've ever had of runung away. Sealed tighter than my hopes when they sunk to the bottom of the ocean each day you found a new suiter.
A new body of warmth and comfort because no matter how many times I loved you at my most.
My most was never enough.
And what does that say about me?
How am I supposed to breath?
When I wake up to a decreased oxygen tank you've pocked tiny holes into so I couldn't breathe.
And I don't want to breathe
Knowing you'll never be with me.
So maybe being the shoulder to cry on is all I'll ever been.
Cause you'll never see past the dreams and realize our beauty.
You'll never see past the outcast
Of our short lasted opportunities.
Like little white lies told when knitting.
Its just now that I'm seeing with my own eyes, why the thread is becoming undone.
Because this sweater of love you knitted me.
Was just a pity gift amongst throw aways you've hidden beneath.
And what hurts the most is knowing you've never lied to me
You've never intentionally hurt me.
You've only accidentally crushed my soul.
And for that I'm sorry.
I truly can't take anymore.
So take me back to that night we ate sushi.
The rain pelted but our voices made it seem like butterflies dancing in the spring.
Window wipers were a distraction to block out awkward air.
And I could've said I love you.
Right then and there.
Please take me back to that moment of serenity.
Because now my emotions are just reasons for you to forget me.
And saying I love you.
Never let's me sleep.
Annie

— The End —