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#mined
(at a time and place, where days are no longer individuated by name, any day, everyday, can be a Saturday) ~~~~ sometimes ya gotta get help, to see yourself, in the light of of other's filtered x~ray vision, to cut through the indecision, am I this or that, dog or cat, what the heck, I gave me best, and no one has ever called me                                                      poet yet, cause i'm in a new york city f(r)amed of mined broadway is just an indian path, we stole. borrowed & renamed, the Yankees haven't won a Series since time in memoriam, forget the mets no one ever called them a baseball team                                                         ever, yet, when i'm in a new york city f(r)amed of mined guests /(locust pests) have invaded every crannied nook, sand and rugelach crumbs, will be spewed, & spend the rest/best  of their now[Surprise!] extended 7 day weekend, while the man~maid/me!made follows close on from behind with damp cloth & hand hell'd (not a typo) vacuum till I throw in the towel and get the big guns, showing my grumpy age of 101, and I'm just doing my cranky impression of Lenny Bruce in a Bill Joel fouled up mood                                                           cause, yup, when i'm in a new york city cranky f(r)amed of mined been up since 195?, haven't gotten a good night sleep since the first time they counted my fingers and toes, god knows, came in yowling. cranky even then, and here I am on a gorgeous funday sunday on my hands and knees, not very pleased because a sandy beach is now in the living room, the geese are back for a fourth time, to foul the lawn and my mood, around 10am, the guests will be emerging uncocooned, stomack growling. for bagel, challah french toast, oat milk (WTFO), and me listening to Nina S., cause today's a best-to-get-in-an all~in moody blues haze around my head and all cause                                                            nothing good occurs when i'm in a new york city double swanky f(r)amed of mined ok she's not eavesdropping on my mind or over shoulder spying on what I'm writing, but she knows where my head is at because she counts my sighs like I count her sneezes,  and she's leaving before the cleanup begins, and some blood may get spilled, cause **** me when i'm in a new york city f(r)amed of mined anything can happen, especially when them they ask if they can "have'' the house for, uh, every September, weekend, and i just walk to the beech, and hang myself from with the ropes from the tree swing, and whaddya know!                                                   i'm no longer in                                   a new york city f(r)amed of mined
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Sep 8, 2025
Sep 8, 2025 at 3:40 PM UTC
Sat. moody: cause i'm in a new york city f(r)amed of mined
(at a time and place, where days are no longer individuated by name, any day, everyday, can be a Saturday) ~~~~ sometimes ya gotta get help, to see yourself, in the light of of other's filtered x~ray vision, to cut through the indecision, am I this or that, dog or cat, what the heck, I gave me best, and no one has ever called me                                                      poet yet, cause i'm in a new york city f(r)amed of mined broadway is just an indian path, we stole. borrowed & renamed, the Yankees haven't won a Series since time in memoriam, forget the mets no one ever called them a baseball team                                                         ever, yet, when i'm in a new york city f(r)amed of mined guests /(locust pests) have invaded every crannied nook, sand and rugelach crumbs, will be spewed, & spend the rest/best  of their now[Surprise!] extended 7 day weekend, while the man~maid/me!made follows close on from behind with damp cloth & hand hell'd (not a typo) vacuum till I throw in the towel and get the big guns, showing my grumpy age of 101, and I'm just doing my cranky impression of Lenny Bruce in a Bill Joel fouled up mood                                                           cause, yup, when i'm in a new york city cranky f(r)amed of mined been up since 195?, haven't gotten a good night sleep since the first time they counted my fingers and toes, god knows, came in yowling. cranky even then, and here I am on a gorgeous funday sunday on my hands and knees, not very pleased because a sandy beach is now in the living room, the geese are back for a fourth time, to foul the lawn and my mood, around 10am, the guests will be emerging uncocooned, stomack growling. for bagel, challah french toast, oat milk (WTFO), and me listening to Nina S., cause today's a best-to-get-in-an all~in moody blues haze around my head and all cause                                                            nothing good occurs when i'm in a new york city double swanky f(r)amed of mined ok she's not eavesdropping on my mind or over shoulder spying on what I'm writing, but she knows where my head is at because she counts my sighs like I count her sneezes,  and she's leaving before the cleanup begins, and some blood may get spilled, cause **** me when i'm in a new york city f(r)amed of mined anything can happen, especially when them they ask if they can "have'' the house for, uh, every September, weekend, and i just walk to the beech, and hang myself from with the ropes from the tree swing, and whaddya know!                                                   i'm no longer in                                   a new york city f(r)amed of mined
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Music is a part of one's growing heart and soul God's gift for the creation he made and designed on within time and void Music itself was a born soul of it's own living in us to soar It is a powerful and fearsome soul to tends to overpower us at our weakest or golden moments at hand to strike in silence At birth, birds sing and bell chimes to welcome the new souls come forth from the heavens At death, the sound of the fallen rain and bells rings to pay their goodbyes and respects for their met again with the gods I am neither a musician nor a writer I am a plain and simple soul who adores writing, singing, and paint my soul out on paper Music brings joys, happiness, sadness, anger, and many feelings from the heart and soul It has done much wonders and chaos to the humanity of the passing time on this land of earth we bound The attune of each song, the words of every feelings being pour without a rest of mind, each strum or tune of one's heart into the blank paper Has made many confuse hearts and lost souls come together, to become one at peace again, to be diverse It is amazing to see what music does it brings people together, anywhere and any time of moment Music changes people,  for better or worst it does depends on what tune your heart and soul desires from today and onwards
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Nov 25, 2013
Nov 25, 2013 at 8:37 AM UTC
Attune
A young youth who'd family raised as the divers of the sea I was the first child and daughter came forth to these water elementals Upon life by my dearest home sided the vast ocean I grew up staying on an asian island where by the oriental cloth upon my skin, cooling breeze were always around for the kites and eagles to soar afar wide above the ocean even the villagers used to have called little me, their merchild as I was always excited to wake up by dawn swimming in the ocean after awakening of my family in their sweet dreams till the day ends came forth the sunset as I swam few strokes left to do, I was always the last of the children to walk back on the earth land wave my goodbyes I did, to the beautiful sunset down as for the moonlight to shine on the ocean's floor later, after dinner and some stories from my loved ones all rested with hard work and sweetest dreams I walk over to window and prayed to make a wish to the skies and the ocean that I was sure I had finally found of my first love, and he was the ocean
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Nov 16, 2013
Nov 16, 2013 at 4:55 AM UTC
Mermaid
I am an asian an oriental from the east curious of more knowledge of the west and south A young youth at an age of studying the board seas of land and the earth we stand upon Racism is a wide source of fear, the we all become upon at take it on at war Bloodshed and tears are cried upon the death of love ones in many times of the past in mine lands In the art of war will have no happy ending unless one's voice is rising and brave Enough to risk his own soul to be diverse and have good faith hope in other religion And races, to nurture and care of our younger children to the new era awaits For once, in my life I would love to see diversity come together without any hate to each other Blaming on from the past hurting the young of the future due to history
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Nov 13, 2013
Nov 13, 2013 at 7:23 PM UTC
View
We live in the world that kills each other in a cycle no ones understands why of its theory to do so I am an ocean child, lost and searching in this wide sea of humans passing wondering and pondering at thoughts nonetheless crying for the attention of love, honestly, and heart of the purest I am mentally abused by my past, and a confuse young at youth searching for the reason of why I am here on this land born to do with faith, I prayed for the gods to give me a sign what am I meant The inner ocean in me cries for a heart to comfort my sad soul even though knowing I will die alone at the end only left with inked writing and faded memories god left inside of me, to remain of my past A scuba diver, I am I have treasure the oceans and never ate a shark ever in my life time as it was the vow I took as a young child I promise to save their race from extinction I am a young youth whom have been much through hurt and betrayal countless times I am not the walking perfection but I am a caring soul who only begs to be loved and wants only of love and nurturing In this century, I have fear nothing last forever though anymore, there is hope but don't hang on it too long the rope will tear if you hold strong and heavy enough you'll drop and die Like the ocean, my feelings swayed and fades through down my skin and the sound of the sea flow in, and attune my veins to my heart, it calms the war in myself ..
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Nov 12, 2013
Nov 12, 2013 at 10:16 AM UTC
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