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#cheerios
...well, who doesn't love Cheerios? (sonnet #MMMMMMMMCMXXVIII) Mum said that I loved Cheer'os when, to scale, A baby, til I knew the photos thence Well-nigh by heart, those little o's fr'intents So perfect yet so slippry e'en dry (frail As aught excuse where tiny fingers hail All sheer retrieval as a project hence); And now she's gone, I eat them like defense For all we knew and cherished, like t'avail. One brother rhymed and sang that, "Cheer'os [were] The best thing you e'er tasted!" cuz we grew Up with our oats thus packaged, or in tour Rolled, boiled and hot, as porridge, til what's new? I'm packing them for werk, in milk, is't poor? And if they're comfort, LORD, how we need You. 20Oct24a
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Oct 20, 2024
Oct 20, 2024 at 3:44 PM UTC
Don't Ask Me Why I Penned THIS
The Cat is in the box The box is too small She sleeps by the fire Caring not at all NCL April 2019
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Apr 18, 2019
Apr 18, 2019 at 4:16 PM UTC
The Cat
She's a leaping high five with her feet planted firmly on the ground She is a crescendo of sound and emotion . Puts her finger to her lips and shushes me . She bathes in moonbeams while tantalizing stars knowing their touch is too far She hides behind the clouds when the sun burns . Capturing the rays and hiding them in kelidoscopic jewels she wears around her ankles so she can see where she walks on moonless nights She teaches fairies to dance in rings and in return becomes the dance instead She's the Cheshire's smile that disappears on the wings of a firefly
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Mar 8, 2016
Mar 8, 2016 at 7:03 PM UTC
Metaphorically Speaking
Something in the morning's guise Leaves me lonely asking why When one a world away Said the same just today I'm sure the sun will now arise Up over the horizon by n' by And stirring up down deep inside The words that want to rise So before the moon goes down Before the birds stir around I'll take a moment's notice and my pen To say good night to God and men
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Aug 13, 2015
Aug 13, 2015 at 5:08 AM UTC
I guess I Could Write A Poem
i will cram myself into a goldfish bowl because it's awkward inviting people to look at me if i am perfectly normal maybe everyone will forget to feed me and one day you'll find me belly side-up or perhaps i will dig myself into the cheerios in my bowl i need a life preserver and there are several stacked up in there maybe i will get bitten by a computer virus and morph into code that nobody can decipher or maybe i will write a poem and it will preserve a portion of my soul (so that my ideas may die without such a struggle)
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Sep 9, 2014
Sep 9, 2014 at 2:42 AM UTC
last words