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Last night Gary Facebooked me:
11:03 PM
"Can I ask you to be crazy with me?"
Gary said he had been flirting with this girl, May
for six months.
She wanted to see him in person tonight,
And he needed a ride.
Gary and I met 11 days ago.
Strangers brought together in the streets of Freeport by pokemon GO.
he spotted me holding my phone out from a mile away.
"Team Instinct?
TEAM INSTINCT!"
Lightning cracked above us
as we cryed in harmony:
"THERE IS NO SHELTER FROM THE STORM!"

My knowledge of him consists of three things.

1. He works as a security guard
Is first responder for medical emergency
Tackles felons and escorts people with restraining orders.
plays it up like he's a security guard for something mysterious
He is a security guard for Wal-mart.

2. Gary buys peoples affection.
Throws his money aimlessly
Pointing at his trophies
Prooving he too is expensive

3. To Gary,
there is nothing better to do
from 12 - 5am
Than wander Looking for pikachu.
With me.
besides visiting this May.

"A taxi would be $80
but I'd rather pay that to you, Bro."

On the drive there,
He is Squeeing, Singing,
Flipping out.
"I've got knots in my stomach Bro."

Upon arrival,
He readily jumps from my car
"Go catch 'em Brock" I say.

When I get back to Freeport
he sends me a messege.
1:04 AM
"Dude.
I think she fell asleep waiting
I'm not inside yet."

I park my car in Freeport,
Finish catching a Weedle.
"I'm on my way, stay safe."

"Man I'm so down."
"She's not coming to the door Nick."
"I'm just gonna curl up on the ground and cry."
"I've called her 24 times"

He heavily thumps his backpack into my backseat
Slumps down into my car.

"There is"
"no shelter"
"From"
"the storm"
"In my heart."

We stare out the window.
At the two homeless men
With no teeth
That he didn't beat.
He's holding night vision binoculars
And a clean Knife.
"I'm sorry I got you involved, Nick
I asked you to be crazy with me."
"There is"
"No shelter"
"From"
"The storm"
"In my heart"
Last week I got an urge to lay on a rooftop, and drink ***** under the stars,
so I packed an empty backpack with svedka, a notebook, and a cellphone; and went on a mission.
I spent an afternoon looking around.
Taking notes on how in the hell, I could get up to a place that was flat, a roof, and could see the stars.

As it turns out,
the rooftops are not a place Freeport wants you to be.

in fact, one staircase directly leading to the top of a building specifically said
"No Trespassing"
Keeping me out with a locked metal door.

so I kept adventuring.

It did not occur to me until after I had already spent quite awhile scribbling down notes on locations of
milk crates I could use,
ledges low enough to grab,
dumpsters I could maybe move over just a bit,

how illegal it may be,
(I'M still not sure)
Or how dangerous it may be
(probably quite very)
To go on this adventure.

I texted a beautiful girl and asked if she wanted to drink ***** under the stars.

being the suave romantic that I am,

Having spent my whole morning surveying different routes to the rooftops.

Having planned out such a storybook evening, obviously her answer was,

"nah, I'd rather stay home, smoke ****, and watch the new season of Orange is the new black."

*******, Ruby Rose...
Stop. stealing. my dates.

After introducing myself to a handful of other potential candidates, I finally find a woman who believes climbing onto a rooftop and drinking ***** would be a swell time.

By the time I pick her up and get back to the spot,
it's late enough that Freeport is a ghost town.
We run down the middle of the street, me dragging her, doctor and companion style towards the first flawless plan:

Milkcrates behind linda beans.

We stack them up like steps and walk up to the top of a metal ceiling
Affixed perfectly above a flight of stairs that leads to the top floor.
I thought, "maybe we could climb the metal ceiling like a ramp."

it turns out
that not only is it
incredibly difficult not to
fall off of a slanted flimsy ramp
with no handles. But it is also: Terrifying!

Eventually I make it to the top and realize:
"****, There is still a tall ledge I have to hoist myself onto"
I look down to the short brunette quivering
on the ramp's lowest tier and decide that there is no way either of us were going to make it.

"Hey rose, " (That wasn't her real name)
Let's try a different way up.

attempting to crawl down slowly,
my **** scoots forward, hands behind me,
I slip and start gliding down like a children's slide.
flailing and attempting to catch myself before
falling off the edge and plummeting onto a dumpster.

(Whistling noises)

Thud!

She screams.
I laugh uncontrollably.

She slowly descends our statuesque landmark milkcrate staircase.
Like an angel coming from ghetto heaven.

I lift myself up and hop down off the dumpster.

putting my backpack down,
I check to see if the ***** bottle is okay.
It's fine.

"Good job, *******."
"We're fine."
"You're an idiot."
"I could have died, don't I at least get a kiss or something?"

She gives me a disapproving look, then kisses me.

eventually we did
make it up to a rooftop,
Where we laid and watched the stars.
They were warm, distant, and beautiful.

I liked feeling their glow on my skin.
But I loved taking the journey to meet them.
Lawrence Hall Sep 2018
How wonderful to live in Freeport, Maine
Where beautiful women and handsome men
In youth eternal rock their five-bar boots
And flannel shirts in happy, snowy scenes

Where laughter echoes through those forest glades
Forever free of electrical lines
Skunks burrowing under the cabin floor
And neighbors’ overflowing septic tanks

Oh, what a dreamy life for you and me
In Freeport, Zip Code 04033!


(Just having a little fun; everything I’ve bought from L.L. Bean’s catalogue is wonderful!  I’d love to live in the perfect New England scenes depicted in the catalogue. If you squint your eyes carefully you can see Bob Newhart’s inn on page…)
Your ‘umble scrivener’s site is:
Reactionarydrivel.blogspot.com.
It’s not at all reactionary, tho’ it might be drivel.
In 2009, The american disaster film "2012" was released.
Preparing for "The End of The World" was easy.

A piece of cardboard at a Red Light.


"2012 The End Is Nigh, What's a dollar?"


We might as well have smiled, given a friendly wave,
honked our horns like we were passing the Freeport Flag Ladies.


In 2012, I was in high school with my first job.

I didn't care that In the twinkling of an eye,

we were gonna hear God's last trumpet.

On Rapture-Eve, I set out "Milk N' Cookies" for the "Left-behind"

I left next mornings outfit on the side of the road as if Angels abducted me ****-*** naked mid-stride

Turns out, the red light never turned green.

The "left-behind" kept breeding

and Hell on earth just kept recruiting

Now it's 2020,

The Freeport Flag Ladies are in Quarantine,

the signs have needles in our eyelids like mechanical spiders,

You can't even turn the news off now,

I pick it up at CVS Like a Controlled substance prescription.

They make you call in once a month to get it refilled.

Some how my amazing wife Amy and I

Not only survived the rapture,
we brought a brand new life into it.

For 10 days we were locked in a hospital

We never looked at the news.

The world melted away as we danced together

Waiting to meet our little miracle.

After Amy was whisked away for intensive surgery
and survived the most unspeakably amazing thing in the world
a nurse eventually grabbed me and asked if I wanted to meet my daughter,
I was guided to a baby table

with knobs, meters, heat lamps,

and on a tiny cushion

in a tiny plastic crib,

My daughter.


Sophia Naomi Mae Coulombe.


wide eyed

staring into my pupils

wiggling

perfect

Now we are home.

No nurses, no IV.

Somehow it feels like the end of the world and all it's chaos
was the best thing that has ever happened to us.

Everything happened exactly when it needed too.


We couldn't have had better timing

if God planned it.
I would love any editing advice! I know this poem is raw and precious, but please feel open to being savage with the red pen!
Robert Ronnow Aug 2015
I

These days I forgive myself everything. After all
I'm alone and unhappy so I give myself a little treat
whenever possible. On summer nights I remember
the good women who loved me but live with their husbands
      now.

This is not an easy life but I'm not afraid. Despair
leads me to talk too much about myself rather than
be transcendent. I trade push for shove with the world
and sitting above the river feel I could move the globe.

If I could stay out here on the roof all day,
get ****** and read the I Ching, write a few lines
and forget my troubles, I could be happy
today. Then I would go to work tomorrow.

But I rise at dawn and drink some orange juice.
It is good with ice. Buy a newspaper going to the train.


II

In this lousy life we work five days a week.
An Indian could gather a week's food in three days
and go swimming in the hot afternoon. The pleasure
civilization offers is a drive past fast food joints
on Merrick Avenue to a sea food restaurant in Freeport.

Almost everyone I know is dissatisfied with life
as we have been pressed into it. The system gives us
cancer and heart attacks and repressed sexuality when
I was born to be sensuous and enjoy another's body.
Instead I slug the world and the world slugs back.

I have five minutes to finish this poem. I remember
the smooth women I have known, remaining in bed
all morning. Our big ambitions are our curse.
We uphold our end of the society.


III

While it's true that I'm not happy, I'm very amused
at the craziness I have let myself in for.
Hopefully it's only one year of sleeping in my clothes
without a woman and drinking plenty of wine after work.

I listen to someone start a car downstairs, but that
is not my world, nor do I know any of these eight million
I live beside in the crotch of many waters. Above
Broadway Saturday, the geese fly south for winter.

This morning, in twenty minutes, I will go downstairs wearing
a shirt and tie and jacket and carrying a briefcase.
I will tear myself from the pleasures of tea and breakfast
to arrive at the office where each day my happiness is
      challenged.

I accepted humanity as a natural part of nature. When
I did that I had to pay the rent and get a job, too.


IV

A famous samurai crosses a plain in winter
looking for work. He comes to a farm community
but the farmers have no use for his skills. So
he removes his swordbelt and sets to work digging.

It is temporary employment while the seasons change.
The sky is gray and all of the women are occupied
warming their homes. None look up from their work
except to glance at the strong samurai digging.

Why is he digging in the frozen ground? The poet
knows little about farming and less about fighting.
He has put the samurai to work at a pointless task.
It is too early in the year to begin digging.

Nobody pities the pointless samurai or gives him food.
He ties on his sword and starts chopping wood.


V

These bird songs, this January morning, I look
for a way out of life. The Texas woman tells Marc
stories about the football players she's ******.

Although I complain like a blue jay about it, life
has accepted me. Walking uptown with Stephanie it's clear
how much the Empire State Building I've become.

Nevertheless, we make our own decisions. To fight war
or not. They are all my friends, I work for their success,
but choose my poison independently. For me, laziness
and anonymity when I could have been a star.

Newspapers indicate there is much to discuss besides myself
but the Muse seems to disagree. My few friends and the age
will look quaint as a daguerreotype in the light
of the holocaust. I kiss the girl of my dreams.


VI

Again it is almost Spring. It gives me only pain
to think back on past Springs when I seem to have been
someone else. The people who lived then live today
in the same bodies but changed in every other way.

Of course I must continue, with or without good humor.
What was amusing in my youth, that God's finger
could move me to another square, now makes me fear
old friends who are dead to me and yet still here.

The veil of life is thin if one doesn't believe in mystery.
Frequently it blows and reveals the thickening body,
alone, without a soul. One hopes for a consort who
through her own pain has become gentle and simple too.

If only I could share this life with a good wife.
But she would only be unhappy and bring me grief.
www.ronnowpoetry.com
I wake up on a yogibo. It's comfy, but,
I'm in what is now just
My room.
It feels empty.

All the clutter
That made it look lived in
Is in the three empty
Sock and underwear drawers
That used to be:
Hers.

All the pictures of us
and half the nerdy posters
were removed from the walls.
Half of the games,
movies,
books,
Magic the Gathering cards,
Are all gone, so the shelves look bare.
Half the closet is empty.

I walk into the hallway and pass three doors
The first door leads to a bathroom,
The second a closet.
The third is what I now call a "guest bedroom".
The only things in it are an
Empty dresser covered in
Princess stickers...
And a bed frame.

I try not to leave that door open.

Go Down stairs
Sink into car,
Turn on Spotify
Crank the volume to 24
So I can't hear my own thoughts.

Drive to work.

Belt all of the lyrics and jam to "The one" and "Whoa whoa whoa" and "sloppy seconds".
By Watsky.
Clock in,
Apron up,
Shout: "Morning, family!"

How am I doing? "I'm awesome! how are you?"
How am I doing? "I'm wonderful! what brings you to freeport?"
How am I doing? "I'm fantastic, peak or dark roast?"

How's my daughter?

"Well actually... I
Broke up with her mom
And I
...
Wasn't the biological father
so I don't get to see her anymore.
My manager said that customers are getting
Uncomfortable around me
because I am too open so that's the
Scripted version I have to tell you."

Even though I'd love to tell you
that I don't know how she's doing,
and it kills me.
How I told her mom that even though she didn't have any
Compassion left for me,
And she lied to me,
Tortured me more than any human
on this earth and was slowly draining the
Life and sanity out of my body
like a leech, that I
Knew what I was signing up for
when I started to call myself
Daddy.
That I was leaving her,
so we could both get
Better, but I was not leaving that little girl.
And if she would let me
Love her, or
Watch her, or
Buy her birthday presents,
I would,
because she was the best thing to ever happen to me.

when you ask me how she's doing
All I can think about
is how I earned that first "I
love you,
dada."

How I made her laugh more times than her
Mother made her
Cry. How I tucked her in
and she made me read her
"Oh The Places You'll Go", over and
Over and
Over.
Screaming when I said she'd go
On through the hakken kraks howl, and
Giggling when I said she'd move mountains.
I raised her for three years and she called me
Daddy.
But her mother said
that because I wasn't the biological father
I don't have any right to see her.

"How am I doing? I'm awesome."
"How am I doing? I'm wonderful."
"How am I doing? I'm waking up."
WAGON WHEEL GAP is a place I never saw
And Red Horse Gulch and the chutes of ******* Creek.

Red-shirted miners picking in the sluices,
Gamblers with red neckties in the night streets,
The fly-by-night towns of Bull Frog and Skiddoo,
The night-cool limestone white of Death Valley,
The straight drop of eight hundred feet
From a shelf road in the Hasiampa Valley:
Men and places they are I never saw.

I have seen three White Horse taverns,
One in Illinois, one in Pennsylvania,
One in a timber-hid road of Wisconsin.

I bought cheese and crackers
Between sun showers in a place called White Pigeon
Nestling with a blacksmith shop, a post-office,
And a berry-crate factory, where four roads cross.

On the Pecatonica River near Freeport
I have seen boys run barefoot in the leaves
Throwing clubs at the walnut trees
In the yellow-and-gold of autumn,
And there was a brown mash dry on the inside of their hands.
On the Cedar Fork Creek of Knox County
I know how the fingers of late October
Loosen the hazel nuts.
I know the brown eyes of half-open hulls.
I know boys named Lindquist, Swanson, Hildebrand.
I remember their cries when the nuts were ripe.
And some are in machine shops; some are in the navy;
And some are not on payrolls anywhere.
Their mothers are through waiting for them to come home.
tangshunzi Jul 2014
Quando Jen Fariello e Pat di disegni floreali unire le forze .le cose sul serio splendidi svolgersi.Basta prendere questo Pollak Vineyards serata .per esempio.E ' la miscela più bella di eleganza meridionale e la bellezza paesaggistica tutto racchiuso in un perfetto giorno d'estate .Vuoi mantenere il partito pinning andando?Abbiamo sooooo molto più seduto abiti da sposa 2014 proprio qui .

Condividi questa splendida galleria ColorsSeasonsSummerSettingsVineyardStylesTraditional

Da Sposa .Sam e io ci siamo incontrati su match.com .Inizialmente abbiamo detto ai nostri genitori un supplenteè èome abbiamo incontratoèstoria .ma abbiamo finito fessing fino alla fine !A quel tempo .era di stanza a Fort Benning a Columbus .GA e io ero a scuola di medicina ad Atlanta .Ci siamo incontrati in una taverna di Atlanta per un drink prima di andare a Braves gioco con un paio di suoi amici .La serata è proseguita con la cena .bevande e.infine.mirtillo frittelle bianco con scaglie di cioccolato a 02:00 .Più tardi .abbiamo capito che nessuno di noi era in realtà affamati di frittelle .al momento.ma eravamo solo divertiti così tanto che ci stavaè èvogliono la notte alla fine !Sam fu infine nuovamente di stanza in North Carolina .e mi è arrivato tardi per la residenza .

Noi amiamo trekking .campeggio e godersi la vita all'aria aperta ogni modo possibile .così cerchiamo di trascorrere quanto più tempo possibile a casa della mia famiglia a Blue Ridge Mountains fuori Charlottesville .Il 4 luglio .siamo arrivati ​​fino alla cima della montagna per griglia fuori e guardare i fuochi d'artificio .Durante il gran finale dei fuochi d'artificio .ha proposto a me con un bellissimo anello che lui stesso aveva progettato con l'aiuto del suo gioielliere città natale .Era lo stesso luogo dove esattamente un anno prima lui prima mi ha detto che mi amava .Il tutto era abbastanza perfetto!

Amiamo le Blue Ridge Mountainsè èt '.dove ci siamo innamorati e ci siamo impegnatiè eo naturalmente abbiamo voluto condividere questo con la nostra famiglia e gli



amici .Pollak è uno dei nostri preferiti cantine della zona .I loro vini sono davvero di prim'ordine e l'ambiente è semplicemente incantevole .
Uno dei nostri obiettivi principali era solo per evidenziare la bellezza naturale delle montagne e Virginia paese del vino .Abbiamo cercato di fare questo selezionando un palato colore neutro e incorporando elementi locali quando possibile.

Progettare la nostra cerimonia si è rivelato essere un processo scoraggiante .ma molto gratificante .Siamo stati in grado di tessere di tradizioni importanti.mentre assicurandosi che fosse personale e significativo per noi .Sam e io amo cruciverba .così abbiamo progettato il nostro cruciverba e incorporati nella nostro programma come un modo per intrattenere gli ospiti .mentre erano in attesa per la cerimonia per cominciare .Ci sono stati alcuni indizi di nozze a tema e curiosità su di noi .Si è rivelato essere un grande successo !

Sam è dal Maine e hoè èda Virginia .e abbiamo cercato di incorporare le cose da entrambe le nostre città di origine per rendere la festa più personale .Abbiamo chiamato la nostra firma bere ilè èAine Virginianè?in quanto caratterizzato mirtillo ***** dalla città natale Sam ' di Freeport .ME e fragole coltivati ​​localmente da Albemarle County .Abbiamo avuto anche una selezione di birre locali e sidro così come alcuni dei favoriti Sam ' dal Maine .

nostre borse di benvenuto erano uno dei miei tanti preferiti.Quasi tutti i nostri ospiti stavano arrivando da fuori di stato .quindi abbiamo vestiti da sposa davvero voluto esprimere la sua gratitudine eravamo di averli lì .Abbiamo imbottigliato limoncello fatto in casa .mia suocera vestiti da sposa - in- fatti piccoli cuscini balsamo .e mia mamma ha fatto tutti i suoi famosi biscotti di pasta frolla .

Oltre a un libro tradizionale struttura .abbiamo avuto una capsula del tempo .dove gli ospiti possono lasciare le note per noi apriamo il nostro anniversario cinque anni .Per favori .** fatto mirtillo cioccolato bianco con gocce di cioccolato pancake mix per i nostri ospiti di portare a casa .Abbiamo divorato questi sul nostro primo appuntamento .così abbiamo pensato che sarebbe stato opportuno offrire a questi ai nostri ospiti .come pure!

La mia foto preferita è stata scattata durante il nostro ultimo ballo della notte.A quel tempo .i miei capelli stava cadendo giù e Sam si era tolto la giacca e la cravatta allentata .Noi didnè ècura.Siamo rimasti così felice !Esausto troppo .ma così felice di essere sposato e circondato da tutti amiamo .Ogni volta che guardo quella foto .ricordi meravigliosi di quel fantastico giorno ritornano impetuosi .

Sam è in campo militare .così abbiamoè èe ha dovuto trascorrere la maggior parte del nostro primo anno di matrimonio a parte .Avendo foto come questa mi fa sentire come se fossi con lui anche quando è dall'altra parte del mondo

Fotografia : Jen Fariello | Pianificazione : . Shindig Matrimoni ed Eventi | Floral Design : Floreale di Southern Blooms By Pat Designs |Abito da sposa : Junko Yoshioka | Cake : Maliha Creations | Inviti : rock Paper Scissors | Cerimonia Sede : Pollak Vineyards | Banco Sede : Pollak Vineyards | Bridesmaids Dresses : Adrianna Papell | Catering : Harvest Moon Catering | Calligraphy : Se è così Inklined | damigella d'onore Regali:Ditty Borse | DJ : Ran Henry | Hair \u0026 Make-up : Jeanne Cusick | Affitto Tenda : Sperry TendeJen Fariello Fotografia e meridionali Blooms di Disegni floreali Pat ' sono membri del nostro Little Black Book .Scopri come i membri sono scelti visitando la nostra pagina delle FAQ .Jen Fariello Fotografia vedi portfolio meridionali Blooms di Flora del Pat ... vedi
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http://www.belloabito.com/abiti-da-sposa-c-1
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Pollak Vineyards Wedding_abiti da sposa on line
I wake up on a yogibo. It's comfy,
But I'm in what is now just
My room.
It feels empty.

All the clutter that made it look lived in is in the three empty sock and underwear drawers that used to be
Hers.
All the pictures of us and half the nerdy posters were removed from the walls.
Half of the games, movies, books, Magic the Gathering cards,
Are all gone so the shelves look bare.
Half the closet is empty.

I walk into the hallway and pass three doors
The first door leads to a bathroom,
The second a closet.
The third is what I now call a "guest bedroom".
The only things in it are an
Empty dresser covered in
Princess stickers...
And a bed frame.
I try not to leave that door open.

I walk down the stairs and grab my coat.
I go out to my car, sink into my seat, turn on the engine and check my phone.
I've got two text messages, and a new tinder match.

I ignore it all and open spotify.
I start playing Watsky's album "All you can do".
I crank the volume to 24 so I can't hear my own thoughts.

I check the first text message.

It's from the
Mutual friend of the nice girl
Who I might date when I'm better.

"Hey don't worry about it, she has a lot going on and is super busy all of the time.
She wanted to meet you to see if she liked you but I think shes not really into you.
She said you were super nice, she just can't be with someone as outgoing as you
I think. She's super shy. I really thought she might like you but I guess not. lol.
Sorry!"

I check the second text message.

It's from the
**** buddy in Kennebunk
Who I met on tinder.

"What are you doing tomorrow?"
Sent at 8:33pm yesterday.
I reply: "nothing! wanna hang today? when are you free?"
"I'm free pretty much all day/night. Warning:
I just got my period, so I feel like absolute ****.
I need good feels and comfort(food), if you will. so when?" I send:
"Uhh, I got errands to run... i'll get back to you" In return, I receive a polite:
"Go **** yourself. :) "

I go check the tinder match...
"...Oops."
Unmatch.
No reason.
I Drive to work.
I belt all of the lyrics and jam to "The one" and "Whoa whoa whoa" and "sloppy seconds".
Shut the car down, clock in, apron up, shout: "Morning, family!"

How am I doing? "I'm awesome! how are you?"
How am I doing? "I'm wonderfull! what brings you to freeport?"
How am I doing? "I'm awesome, peak or dark roast?"

How's my daughter?

"Well actually... I
Broke up with her mom and I
Wasn't the biological father so I don't get to see her anymore,
and my manager said that customers are getting
Uncomfortable around me because I am too open so that's the
Scripted version I have to tell you."

Even though I'd love to tell you that I don't know how she's doing, and it kills me.
How I told her mom that even though she didn't have any
Compassion left for me, and she lied to me,
Tortured me more than any human on this earth and was slowly draining the
Life and sanity out of my body like a leech, that I
Knew what I was signing up for when I started to call myself
Daddy.
That I was leaving her, so we could both get
Better, but I was not leaving that little girl.
And if she would let me
Love her, or
Watch her, or
Buy her birthday presents that I would because she was the best thing to ever happen to me.
And when you ask me how she's doing
All I can think about is how I earned that first "I
love you,
dada."
How I made her laugh more times than her
Mother made her
Cry. How I tucked her in and she made me read her
"Oh The Places You'll Go", over and
Over and
Over. Screaming when I said she'd go
On through the hakken kraks howl, and
Giggling when I said she'd move mountains.
I raised her for three years and she called me
Daddy.
But her mother said that because I wasn't the biological father I don't have any right to see her.

"How am I doing? I'm awesome."
"How am I doing? I'm wonderful."
"How am I doing? I'm waking up."
I wake up on a yoga mat
In what is now just My
empty room.

All the clutter That made this house
lived in.
Tucked
in the three old
Sock and underwear drawers
That used to be:
Hers.

The family photographs
half the nerdy posters
books,
Magic the Gathering cards,
Burgled by some addict named time.

I look out at what I now call
"The guest bedroom".
The only evidence of her
An empty dresser
covered in Princess stickers.

At work
Customers ask:
How are you doing?
"I'm awesome! how are you?"
How are you doing?
"I'm wonderful! what brings you to freeport?"
How are you doing?
"I'm fantastic, peak or dark roast?"

How's your daughter?
"Step-daughter."
That's all I'm allowed to tell you
My boss said I'm scaring off customers By
over-sharing
So he wrote me a script.

I would love to tell you
I don't know how she's doing
And it's killing me.

Her mother left me,
We were both fifteen at the time so
My mother, Rightfully cautious
of her overly passionate puppylove eyed son
Didn't let me adopt

So I don't get to see her anymore.

Her mother was a fire who never drank enough rain
And that little girl
Will burn without my clouds.

I am playground math lessons
In space of mindless television
I am baking a cake together Instead of
"You won't eat till you listen".
I am the voice behind every barbie doll
And dinosuar that ever fell in love.

when you ask me how she's doing
All I can think about is how
I earned that
first "I love
you,
dada."

How I made her laugh
more times than her Mother made her
Cry.
How I tucked her in at night
and she made me read her
"Oh The Places You'll Go",
Over
and Over
and Over.
Screaming
when I said she'd go
On through the hakken kraks howl,
and Giggling
when I said she'd move
Mountains.
I raised her for three years.

But because I walked in on my daughter
Locked in "The guest bedroom"
banging on the Oak door
Screaming "DA DAAAA!"
While her mother forgets about us
On the other side of a keyhole.

I have to waste at this register
Handing you a precious cup of coffee
every precious cup of coffee
another abuse I can't protect her from.

"How is your daughter?"
"Step Daugher"
"How are you doing?"
"I'm awesome."
"How is your daugher?"
"Step daughter."
"how are you doing? Step daughter"
"Tell me how you're doing, Step Daughter."
"Please, Tell me you're safe."
"Tell me you're safe."
"Tell me you're safe."
Artistry Dec 2014
I’m not your typical, I’m a lyrical genius
It’s my make-up, DNA boy it’s in my genus

Out of this world, they say I’m somewhere flowing out in Venus
With my hand on my scenic route

Preparing for that stick and move
Smack him with the backhand, breaking in my tennis shoes

Find my way around like I own a set of tentacles
If you talking diet, it’s the water with the minerals.

On another pinnacle, the best on my minimal
Imagine If I’m physical

Its ridicule, cause you in my visual
Subliminal, alter ego is identical.

Looking for the finish move, moral compatible
Split you down sagittal, problems mathematical

Catch you on the avenue, straight up to the capital
Left the Adirondack’s, different set of contacts.

Yea , I’m stilling doing me dog, opponent’s that I leap frog
Emotions on a see-saw, cooler that the sea shore
Even better than before, that’s what you got beef for.

Run the game , that’s what you got feet for
In my deep thought, contemplating deport

Came up on the gutter, north side, we call Freeport.
Tryst Jun 2015
A bard ran fleet of foot across the bridges
That span the mighty trees of Greater Fay,
To keep a tryst to meet his fairy mistress
And strum his lyre, delivering his lay:

"Oh maiden of the forest, thou are sweetest
Of all the maids of thine, the fairest race;
Thy eyes are wisps of greater lightstone riches,
Thou sets my heart to beat at Selo's pace.

If I should roam from Everfrost to Freeport,
From Qeynos Hills through all Karana fields,
No one shall ever keep thee from mine own thoughts,
For love of thee my heart forever wields."


She looked upon her minstrel with a sadness
And told him that their love could never be,
She closed her eyes and left him in the darkness
To mourn for e'er the love he could not see.

He searched afar to find her wisp eyes gleaming,
He slaughtered all who dared impede his stride;
He marched to Crushbone where the Orcs were screaming,
But none could stand before his Elvish pride.

Until one day he chanced upon a river
And saw his maiden swimming in the flow,
His song was lost within the water's murmer
And diving in, his head was ****** below.

He floundered as the currents gripped him firmly,
And rocks appeared to smash his flailing limbs;
He felt a darkness take him with a warmly
Caress, and heard a choir of Faydark hymns.

He woke upon the bank beside the water
And met her eyes of gleaming wisp-filled light,
And thus the tale of bard and forest daughter
Is told to children each and every night.
the black rose Dec 2018
where i am from
ignorance is like a crown
worn ever-so proudly,
and detriment like softened blows
taken ever-so mildly.
       there is foolish pride here,
       there is no one to guide here.
everyone just cries
& complains all the time
& i guess it’s in the nature
of the poor
unconditioned minds.
i guess it’s what you do
when you know of nothing else.
i guess it’s what you do
when you know nothing of ones self.
i am of the few
that knows just what to do,
but if you are not popular
in society view
then who are you?
you do not matter.
they do not hear the words you say,
but it is fine
just save yourself,
they’ll see you tried to help
some day.
some day too late.
Fearless Dec 2019
His name was Mort
he had a hideous wart
when he got into port
all the wenches would snort
but he waltzed up to the fort
and attended the court
where he drank some fine port
and had a nice chocolate torte
he had eyes on a consort
a tryst with her, he'd had to abort
his mission, her father did thwart
so he drank *** by the quart
and fought men for sport
the rich he'd extort
for he was that sort
for this fair escort
he would not resort
to actually court
her image of him, he dare not distort
and that is why, he'll always fall short
but he got a passport
and got on a transport
and learned to support
himself in Freeport
and that my dear friends, is all I have to report
Dada Olowo Eyo Apr 2019
To many, and a few,
This is not new,
Old as anyone can remember,
Cycling from January through December;

Obtaining by false pretence,
Others later coined a preference,
Yahoo! Yahoo!
Yahoo! Plus! with added voodoo;

And from Cairo to Capetown,
Or Freeport through Freetown,
Victims have been left devastated,
Even the smartest outwitted;

Advance fee fraud,
I've got gold in the cloud,
You should be investing?
So, where should I be paying?
Nigeria has gained notoriety for being the host of a number of online and offline scams. Locally referred to as 419 or Yahoo Yahoo, this sometimes elaborate schemes involve as huge as entire life savings to as ridiculous as stuffing blank paper in place of real items hawked around the streets. It has gained that country some infamy but also painted foreign victims as greedy people who'd fall prey to really stupid set ups. CRAZY.

— The End —