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#josiah
So, on the morning of his sixteenth birthday, Doby Greenhorn prepared to leave. He packed some provisions; a compass, a large box of matches, some rope, a leather bottle full of water, a little money, a sturdy walking stick and some other odds and ends his mother threw at him. And, as the poem goes… “As I set out, in early morn, the whole world for to see, These are the things my blessed mother, came and said to me.” “Beware the fettered Giant, In the valley down below! Restrained by iron ringlets, near the well where lovers go… Beware the flaxen Ferry, if you see him down the lane, he’ll offer you the world and more, but only bring you pain… Be not dismayed by goblins if they’re out during the day, just teach them a new riddle and they’ll let you on your way. A blackened cat upon the road will bring bad luck it’s said, unless you chase it down at once, and beat it till it’s dead! But most important, is that song, which lures all men near… The sound like golden honey being spooned into your ear! A song which sparks that deepest longing, a sense of warmth and cheer! The song of evil Sirens is the thing which most I fear… So put thy hand across thy breast and make a solemn pledge, to never follow lilting tunes up to the waters edge! And if you do, and see a maiden bathing in the sun, more beautiful then any queen that ever had been won! With eyes as green as sun bleached moss and face pleasant and fun, Who’s magic makes it quite impossible for you to run! Then draw thy dagger from thy waist and place it to thy beating heart, and plunge that steel with all thy strength, to lay thy noble breast apart! Far better be, to take thy life and keep thy soul embowered, then ever kiss those bitter lips and have thy flesh devoured! For Sirens never eat the dead, and though thy blood runs ruby red, thy honor rests upon thy head, and follows thee to life after…” ”I made the pledge, and kissed her face, and off I went my path to chase! With dagger hanging from my waist… That dagger dangling at my waist… “
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Aug 11, 2019
Aug 11, 2019 at 10:09 AM UTC
Doby Greenhorn
So, on the morning of his sixteenth birthday, Doby Greenhorn prepared to leave. He packed some provisions; a compass, a large box of matches, some rope, a leather bottle full of water, a little money, a sturdy walking stick and some other odds and ends his mother threw at him. And, as the poem goes… “As I set out, in early morn, the whole world for to see, These are the things my blessed mother, came and said to me.” “Beware the fettered Giant, In the valley down below! Restrained by iron ringlets, near the well where lovers go… Beware the flaxen Ferry, if you see him down the lane, he’ll offer you the world and more, but only bring you pain… Be not dismayed by goblins if they’re out during the day, just teach them a new riddle and they’ll let you on your way. A blackened cat upon the road will bring bad luck it’s said, unless you chase it down at once, and beat it till it’s dead! But most important, is that song, which lures all men near… The sound like golden honey being spooned into your ear! A song which sparks that deepest longing, a sense of warmth and cheer! The song of evil Sirens is the thing which most I fear… So put thy hand across thy breast and make a solemn pledge, to never follow lilting tunes up to the waters edge! And if you do, and see a maiden bathing in the sun, more beautiful then any queen that ever had been won! With eyes as green as sun bleached moss and face pleasant and fun, Who’s magic makes it quite impossible for you to run! Then draw thy dagger from thy waist and place it to thy beating heart, and plunge that steel with all thy strength, to lay thy noble breast apart! Far better be, to take thy life and keep thy soul embowered, then ever kiss those bitter lips and have thy flesh devoured! For Sirens never eat the dead, and though thy blood runs ruby red, thy honor rests upon thy head, and follows thee to life after…” ”I made the pledge, and kissed her face, and off I went my path to chase! With dagger hanging from my waist… That dagger dangling at my waist… “
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15
Oh sweet nectar of the morn, in simmering *** thy bitter savor born, From depths of slumber I am drawn, to bold aromas, dark and rich. Pulled up, outside of sleeps embrace, not quickly, at a gentle pace, And brought along till fully woken, with that single word so sweetly spoken… ““Coffee…” Awake, but in that pleasant daze, that warm, relaxing, dream like phase, When bed is softer than a cloud, the house so quiet, it’s almost loud. Pause for effect… And then a knock on oaken door, a gentle rap, moments before, The **** is turned, and with a whine, the door glides open, just in time! For she has brought me coffee… A sip is like a gentle kiss, the warmest, realist, sweetest bliss, Spread through my soul, and lifts me higher, pulled up by some cosmic wire, Far above the highest spire, past our stars tormented fire, Far beyond basic desire, serounded by angelic quire, Strumming harp and plucking lyre! Little excessive…
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Aug 11, 2019
Aug 11, 2019 at 10:00 AM UTC
Coffee
Josiah Jack never uttered a sound when they dragged him away from the scene. when his poor body was eventually found, the treatment endured, had been mean. With no tongue in his head they had left him for dead. With a month on his back, he did indeed contemplate. Only sin “he was black” hence forth this weary state. They attacked in the night, hooded and white. All in all he was lucky to be breathing at all, all because he was plucky, all because he stood tall. A ***** they said should lower his head. Were they hooded for fear? Were they hooded in shame? Most likely, once covered, they could hide of their name. If things were so right, why hide out of sight? Bravery isn't a word for the **** Cowards, this word comes to mind. Bravery comes when there's only one man, not one with ten more stood behind. I will strike in a pack with someone watching my back. Their plan was to **** this man Josiah Jack. Perhaps they get a thrill when someone cannot fight back. They get real loud when they join with the crowd. Josiah knew well that if he raised a hand his kin folk would feel hell from this unruly band. So he did not fight but gave in to his plight. They think they were hidden beneath that white hood, Josiah's hearing is sound and his memory is good. So when things are forgot, he will take of his lot. That's exactly what happened, as they lay in their bed. The flames hurled with fury the sky filled with red. This man barbequed them like fish on a rack and no one put it down to Josiah Jack.
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Jul 13, 2015
Jul 13, 2015 at 4:22 PM UTC
Josiah Jack
Josiah Jack never uttered a sound when they dragged him away from the scene. when his poor body was eventually found, the treatment endured, had been mean. With no tongue in his head they had left him for dead. With a month on his back, he did indeed contemplate. Only sin “he was black” hence forth this weary state. They attacked in the night, hooded and white. All in all he was lucky to be breathing at all, all because he was plucky, all because he stood tall. A ***** they said should lower his head. Were they hooded for fear? Were they hooded in shame? Most likely, once covered, they could hide of their name. If things were so right, why hide out of sight? Bravery isn't a word for the **** Cowards, this word comes to mind. Bravery comes when there's only one man, not one with ten more stood behind. I will strike in a pack with someone watching my back. Their plan was to **** this man Josiah Jack. Perhaps they get a thrill when someone cannot fight back. They get real loud when they join with the crowd. Josiah knew well that if he raised a hand his kin folk would feel hell from this unruly band. So he did not fight but gave in to his plight. They think they were hidden beneath that white hood, Josiah's hearing is sound and his memory is good. So when things are forgot, he will take of his lot. That's exactly what happened, as they lay in their bed. The flames hurled with fury the sky filled with red. This man barbequed them like fish on a rack and no one put it down to Josiah Jack.
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91
After we dined, showered, and made love, You fell asleep, on the left side of the bed. Though tired too, well, I like to watch Your face as it moves When you breathe (your chest rises too, And sometimes you twitch, And honestly, I find it cute). And as I watch you here, My one and only Who lights up at the sight of me And has already decided the names of our children, And already loves them Just as much as he loves me, I wonder, my darling, When the love will run Out
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Aug 14, 2014
Aug 14, 2014 at 10:33 PM UTC
Untitled