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#updated
Feb 2014 (rev. Sept 2024) ***you who dare to choose, thus the risk incurring, after calculating the oddities, accepting the perfidies that others will present with deceptive smiles,*** but once done, let it be your single solitary chosen life, a bridge, and a red badge of courage, and let us all say life is the reward for being true, and honorable
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Sep 7, 2024
Sep 7, 2024 at 8:33 AM UTC
updated, revised, yet born to die a withering dearth
#***they hide their sadness differently each filling their emptiness with never ending waves of poor choices and escalating consequences he will never find relief in memories of better times of kind words of moments shared under the moon on a hill where time and again they danced in and out of each other she will never find relief in a bottle or a twisted piece of cellophane chasing the ghost of better times of kind words of moments shared when their souls and bodies were bare and there were no conceits or pretensions or sarcasms of a time when they were the world and the world was them so they continue to chase their relief in the wrong directions when they both know that the solution is asking to be found So instead they'll forever carve each other's names into their very last bare inch of bone***#
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Mar 18, 2017
Mar 18, 2017 at 11:11 AM UTC
Their Understanding of Sadness
Little Po’ Beep was fast asleep When poverty came and found her; She never quite saw The Republican laws Crash all her hopes around her. The Beep's favorite daughter Felt that she oughta Be able to salvage a bit Of the life she had Before things went mad And went reeling to hell from the hit. Little Po’ Beep felt the cost was too steep For taking a nap when she’s tired. She truly believed At least a few of the thieves Needed to be indicted and fired. She would gladly affect A wring of the neck Of the jerks in Washington who ground her Like so much cheap meat Starving dogs wouldn’t eat No help from the dumb peers around her. Little Po’ Beep wished she could learn Some way she could turn The slick words from Congress against them. She’d take all their assets And kick them where they sat Then show them some tar and some feathers. She’d set up a rail Outside of the jail And ride them from town in bad weather.
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Jul 21, 2018
Jul 21, 2018 at 7:35 AM UTC
A RHYME ABOUT A CRIME
Little Po’ Beep was fast asleep When poverty came and found her; She never quite saw The Republican laws Crash all her hopes around her. The Beep's favorite daughter Felt that she oughta Be able to salvage a bit Of the life she had Before things went mad And went reeling to hell from the hit. Little Po’ Beep felt the cost was too steep For taking a nap when she’s tired. She truly believed At least a few of the thieves Needed to be indicted and fired. She would gladly affect A wring of the neck Of the jerks in Washington who ground her Like so much cheap meat Starving dogs wouldn’t eat No help from the dumb peers around her. Little Po’ Beep wished she could learn Some way she could turn The slick words from Congress against them. She’d take all their assets And kick them where they sat Then show them some tar and some feathers. She’d set up a rail Outside of the jail And ride them from town in bad weather.
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Jul 21, 2018
Jul 21, 2018 at 6:58 AM UTC
LITTLE PO' BEEP
The many ways he is legal.,Legit and lit.. With 3 A.M to finish it! He ever so slightly gives.. Her a passions mind hickey. F.ck..up.. savory Like shivering kisses mind hiccups. unspoken...................................attention given. Make's her shiver he's a mental ******** giver.. Make's her mind moist and inquisitive. At the sign of any confusion. It's his  penetrative foreplay. Its the lyrics used to seductively play. Tools He uses..their selective differences. Just before 3 a.m. She floats adrift softly melting H.i.m. Talking  everything  comprehensively through.   Rocks her mindful  emotions. Mind F**kin sweet potions. non-trivial notions. Following every word she's relaying. All before the 3 a.m. relating. By day he's catering appetizers of verbal compliments. Sharing of the days events. when they are away from one another. They are texting each other. By evening......... his texting feels like gentle                                                                     whispering! Making His next text something she's craving. Neva leaving her guessing what He is doing. Neva askin her wyd?                                              Mental interactions are tender touchings.                               Mind F**kin..   A tender kind of existing.                                                            As they both be falling. By the time its 3 a.m. Oceans colliding.. erupting.. exploding. mental explosion. 3 a.m. dammn she's already had many ******* heightened chills. Body follows every moment. No hesitations so receptive. They are such Intellectual souls.. The body is prepped it always follows. 3 a.m Anything Goes. By 7 a.m exhaustion so good sets in. Physical resting  so sweet.. yet mentally he's ready with a grin. Just to start a new day all over with her again. by selinasharday 4-2018...H.I.M (he is mine)
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Apr 10, 2018
Apr 10, 2018 at 9:28 PM UTC
3 A.M Mental Passion!
The many ways he is legal.,Legit and lit.. With 3 A.M to finish it! He ever so slightly gives.. Her a passions mind hickey. F.ck..up.. savory Like shivering kisses mind hiccups. unspoken...................................attention given. Make's her shiver he's a mental ******** giver.. Make's her mind moist and inquisitive. At the sign of any confusion. It's his  penetrative foreplay. Its the lyrics used to seductively play. Tools He uses..their selective differences. Just before 3 a.m. She floats adrift softly melting H.i.m. Talking  everything  comprehensively through.   Rocks her mindful  emotions. Mind F**kin sweet potions. non-trivial notions. Following every word she's relaying. All before the 3 a.m. relating. By day he's catering appetizers of verbal compliments. Sharing of the days events. when they are away from one another. They are texting each other. By evening......... his texting feels like gentle                                                                     whispering! Making His next text something she's craving. Neva leaving her guessing what He is doing. Neva askin her wyd?                                              Mental interactions are tender touchings.                               Mind F**kin..   A tender kind of existing.                                                            As they both be falling. By the time its 3 a.m. Oceans colliding.. erupting.. exploding. mental explosion. 3 a.m. dammn she's already had many ******* heightened chills. Body follows every moment. No hesitations so receptive. They are such Intellectual souls.. The body is prepped it always follows. 3 a.m Anything Goes. By 7 a.m exhaustion so good sets in. Physical resting  so sweet.. yet mentally he's ready with a grin. Just to start a new day all over with her again. by selinasharday 4-2018...H.I.M (he is mine)
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Call yourself Morgan. Do not hesitate. You were born on summer solstice. Like the sun, you’re distant from others. Move to Seattle and leave no forwarding address. Busker for a break and warm your bones with charity work. Pretend poetry is the only thing you’re good at, And be good at it. You can’t just write ****** words into An exhausted leather journal, no. Incorporate stanza into every conversation. Drip intensity and rapture like morphine Into the veins of anyone who will actually love you. Speak as if you were never human and you’re still learning to exist. Metaphors and run-on’s are your best friends- Run-on sentences. Run-on arguments. Run-on relationships. Run-on recovery. Develop a reliance on caffeine so potent that you've become the 7:30am medium black coffee at the cafe down the street. Leave no traces.
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Feb 3, 2014
Feb 3, 2014 at 11:32 PM UTC
how to be a poet.