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"addison" poems
when i was a freshman one of my friends told me that there was a girl who was talking about me asking why i was pretending to be straight and that everyone could tell that i was gay my friends and i laughed it off like children and i quipped “i’m not pretending anything, just ask anyone and they’ll know” now, i think of the rainbow socks, the only thing i own with a rainbow on it, being shoved down to the bottom of my sock drawer as if it would pop out at any minute and proclaim it’s existence if it were any higher. now, i think of the rainbow highlight that i applies in the bathroom at midnight, pausing every now and again to make sure i was alone. Now, i think of the pride nail art that i scrubbed off my nails minutes after i painted it on. now, i think of the last word in a poem that i wrote and turned in, scared i was being too obvious with the word they. now, i think of the horrible creature sitting in my chest that simultaneously begs to never tell my secrets and to also scream them from the roof tops. i think of the sludge that lives in me and climbs up my throat, whispering safety into my ear while also ripping apart everything it touches. i think of the pain i feel whenever i say that i’m gay, because it makes things easier if the works sees me as a girl who loves other girls. before thinking of this poem i had sat back and wondered how many bottles it would take of the various prescription medicines that my parents kept in the kitchen cabinet to **** me. when i remembered the name they would put on the tombstone i stopped and walked away. i remember the time where i couldn’t walk away and i had reached in and grabbed a full bottle of ibuprofen and i took a single one, hoping that my screaming head could be sated by the feeling of a single pill crawling down my throat. i had a dream last night about someone called addison. they looked me in the eyes and before i even knew what they looked like their physical form flickered until they were a bright shining star in a vaguely human form. they sat next to me as we floated in a void on a picnic blanket and they put their arm around my shoulder which felt like a hug from someone i used to know but had forgotten i stared at their glasses that looked too much like mine as they flickered in and out of existence and they told me i was not where i was supposed to be. i didnt ask them where but they heard it anyways as if breaking into my thoughts. they answered that they could not tell me and when i thought why they said they didn’t want to spoil the fun of a brighter future for them and me. i woke up with the taste of lavender on my tongue and the desire to change my name.
0
Aug 6, 2018
Aug 6, 2018 at 1:11 AM UTC
closeted
when i was a freshman one of my friends told me that there was a girl who was talking about me asking why i was pretending to be straight and that everyone could tell that i was gay my friends and i laughed it off like children and i quipped “i’m not pretending anything, just ask anyone and they’ll know” now, i think of the rainbow socks, the only thing i own with a rainbow on it, being shoved down to the bottom of my sock drawer as if it would pop out at any minute and proclaim it’s existence if it were any higher. now, i think of the rainbow highlight that i applies in the bathroom at midnight, pausing every now and again to make sure i was alone. Now, i think of the pride nail art that i scrubbed off my nails minutes after i painted it on. now, i think of the last word in a poem that i wrote and turned in, scared i was being too obvious with the word they. now, i think of the horrible creature sitting in my chest that simultaneously begs to never tell my secrets and to also scream them from the roof tops. i think of the sludge that lives in me and climbs up my throat, whispering safety into my ear while also ripping apart everything it touches. i think of the pain i feel whenever i say that i’m gay, because it makes things easier if the works sees me as a girl who loves other girls. before thinking of this poem i had sat back and wondered how many bottles it would take of the various prescription medicines that my parents kept in the kitchen cabinet to **** me. when i remembered the name they would put on the tombstone i stopped and walked away. i remember the time where i couldn’t walk away and i had reached in and grabbed a full bottle of ibuprofen and i took a single one, hoping that my screaming head could be sated by the feeling of a single pill crawling down my throat. i had a dream last night about someone called addison. they looked me in the eyes and before i even knew what they looked like their physical form flickered until they were a bright shining star in a vaguely human form. they sat next to me as we floated in a void on a picnic blanket and they put their arm around my shoulder which felt like a hug from someone i used to know but had forgotten i stared at their glasses that looked too much like mine as they flickered in and out of existence and they told me i was not where i was supposed to be. i didnt ask them where but they heard it anyways as if breaking into my thoughts. they answered that they could not tell me and when i thought why they said they didn’t want to spoil the fun of a brighter future for them and me. i woke up with the taste of lavender on my tongue and the desire to change my name.
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12
this room looks familiar to my untrained eyes but it's just its facade. it's really just some random room that was specifically designed to torment me into insanity. guess what? it didn't work as i watch the television i realize that i'm seeing us in the fictional characters of greys anatomy and i'm yelling ***** at mcdreamy while you go and spend the night with addison and alex realizes that his baby is a fictional person in the fictional world that is his own and i suppose i'm the meredith. isn't it twisted? i wrote a monologue that held words of beauty (beauty) but burnt it and wrote a new one. beauty never really described you well. things like *** and alcohol and stale bread always come to mind when i think of you. (the only reason you're still alive in my head is because you won't let go) it's not me anymore. it's paperclips and blue buttons and borrowed things that are never returned. it's a telephone that doesn't call out and it's lonely with someone else and it's you do you get it now? no
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Nov 27, 2011
Nov 27, 2011 at 3:07 AM UTC
the company of myself
The esophageal chill of fresh rain paired with Bozek's tire stove undertones slipped through the chain link tennis court. Love all, love-fifteen, love-thirty, love-forty, game. I love you, service box Suns, fault one fault lines, Grandma's crochet centerpiece. Cornucopia coping with *deuce, add. in, deuce, add. out, deuce, you get it.* Lost ***** in the transformer pen beside the playground where I watched my classmates fall off the monkey bars and expose themselves daily. Racket strings like pantyhose girls surrounding the sink applying lipstick and stabbing each other dead. They don't need monkey bars to show off. Slice serve pizza at Pudgies to kids barely making it. Grades lower than the pepperoni from the seedy gas station they sit in and thumb-spike quarters into each other's knuckles. The "grown-ups" buy instant lottery and feverishly **** the tickets with misplaced pennies, and then toss the moneywastes when they score a free ticket. Free ticket to what? The tennis match in Addison so far away? A clear view through chain link? A wet, elm bench some kid made in shop class? An alternative to what we waste our lives on? ****** marijuana, drinking at the basketball court, and flicking cigarette filters into Berger Lake like we're hot **** We are **** not the **** Just ****
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Nov 6, 2014
Nov 6, 2014 at 11:59 AM UTC
Chain Link Tennis Court
*He tapped me on the shoulder Before he had to go Said I'll be your Guardian Angel I just wanted you to know He said he knows no one who went That came back and then complained So he guessed the place was pretty nice And was sure he'd want to stay He knew he'd see my grandma Who had went three years before She'd been waiting for him patiently To walk him through God's door Then he asked us not to worry Said he knows what is in store He was pleased with the life he lived And knew God would show him more Spent his last three weeks with family Where he said his sweet goodbyes My final memory of this man Was the brave ending to his life He would give to me this passion But to the world he gave much more The life he lived was one of love He was the gift I most adored* In Memory Sgt. Harold Addison Yates My Grandfather Carl Joseph Roberts
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Apr 2, 2014
Apr 2, 2014 at 5:12 AM UTC
The Gift
' *Will they find me asleep alongside you, when the dawns are crisp in moonsong? The stars are pulling at my hair again, pleading that I should visit Neverland one more time.* ●   ●   ●   ● "Come on!   He's coming for us Kira!  We have to run!" "Who's coming for us?!" "Captain Hook, you idiot!" "Jack---" "--It's Peter!" "But it's 8:00 at night I can't just---" "Hop out your window, Wendy!  I'll catch you!" ●   ●   ●   ● *Can't promise I'll come home. I never have. If I'd be counting lunar shadows, I wouldn't miss yours for the world. Dreaming in sync to a glass of whine, Fill my bowl ****** and blame it on a silver bullet.* ●     ●     ●     ● "What's wrong Jack?" "This place...it's...scary..." "Oh come on!  You're always wanting an adventure, so let's keep going!" "I'm serious----" ........... "Jack?  What is it?" "Run." "But---" "Kira we have to run!" (  c   r    a    c    k   .  ) ●     ●     ●    ● *It was an odd serenity, watching your body embrace gravity and charred stone. You tainted the river redder than any sunset could've, your bloodstream spilled the contents of your life onto the forest floor. ●    ●    ●    ● "RUN AND DON'T LOOK BACK!" "BUT JACK---" "I PROMISE YOU'LL BE OKAY!  JUST KEEP RUNNING!" ●     ●     ●     ● Oh, you'd be sixteen by now, Peter Pan.  (Jack Addison.) And I'd never have grown up. . '
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Jul 2, 2015
Jul 2, 2015 at 7:13 PM UTC
You broke your promise, Jack.
' *Will they find me asleep alongside you, when the dawns are crisp in moonsong? The stars are pulling at my hair again, pleading that I should visit Neverland one more time.* ●   ●   ●   ● "Come on!   He's coming for us Kira!  We have to run!" "Who's coming for us?!" "Captain Hook, you idiot!" "Jack---" "--It's Peter!" "But it's 8:00 at night I can't just---" "Hop out your window, Wendy!  I'll catch you!" ●   ●   ●   ● *Can't promise I'll come home. I never have. If I'd be counting lunar shadows, I wouldn't miss yours for the world. Dreaming in sync to a glass of whine, Fill my bowl ****** and blame it on a silver bullet.* ●     ●     ●     ● "What's wrong Jack?" "This place...it's...scary..." "Oh come on!  You're always wanting an adventure, so let's keep going!" "I'm serious----" ........... "Jack?  What is it?" "Run." "But---" "Kira we have to run!" (  c   r    a    c    k   .  ) ●     ●     ●    ● *It was an odd serenity, watching your body embrace gravity and charred stone. You tainted the river redder than any sunset could've, your bloodstream spilled the contents of your life onto the forest floor. ●    ●    ●    ● "RUN AND DON'T LOOK BACK!" "BUT JACK---" "I PROMISE YOU'LL BE OKAY!  JUST KEEP RUNNING!" ●     ●     ●     ● Oh, you'd be sixteen by now, Peter Pan.  (Jack Addison.) And I'd never have grown up. . '
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46
... 1.  Can someone             anyone,             please,             teach me,               how             to stop the running             of blood             from a wound? 2.   I don't like             the way             your body             wears red;             it's a warm             stain             I can't seem to             wash             from your cotton clothes             or             my porcelain mind. 3.  Your kindness; I have never realized             that it was it's             very own             sort             of torture.             Even blood fell             down;             drained             out;             cared             about;             left             without;             someone blissfully stupid                              like me. 4.   I should've,             I would've,             I could've,             listened to my father's instructions             but I didn't.             I still chase it,             the second glass star             to the right.             I wasn't ready             for what guilt             I found;             I never would've             been anyways. 5.   Captain hook learned              how simple              it was;              and used a              black gun              to ****** Peter,              and rob him of his'              favorite lost boy.              He left the weapon              in the sleight              of my hand.              "Time to grow up, my dear." 6.    Nine years later,               between now               and long ago;               I still create               after               images               whenever I give someone               the power               to mention               your name. 7.     Father always told me               fairy tales weren't real.               ********               You were mine.               You were real.               I still don't listen               to father. 8.    You are the dauntless touch,               to my sense               of adventure               to my flavor               of judgment,               to my frigid heart of               bravery.               *I don't have what it               takes               to* change.               Not anymore. 9.     One day I will join you.                The sooner,                the better.                So how pointless is it                that I write                these letters,                and remind myself                that I am much older                and very                lonely?               ***"Do you miss me as much as I                      miss you?*** ...
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Apr 3, 2016
Apr 3, 2016 at 10:02 PM UTC
Jack-Addison
... 1.  Can someone             anyone,             please,             teach me,               how             to stop the running             of blood             from a wound? 2.   I don't like             the way             your body             wears red;             it's a warm             stain             I can't seem to             wash             from your cotton clothes             or             my porcelain mind. 3.  Your kindness; I have never realized             that it was it's             very own             sort             of torture.             Even blood fell             down;             drained             out;             cared             about;             left             without;             someone blissfully stupid                              like me. 4.   I should've,             I would've,             I could've,             listened to my father's instructions             but I didn't.             I still chase it,             the second glass star             to the right.             I wasn't ready             for what guilt             I found;             I never would've             been anyways. 5.   Captain hook learned              how simple              it was;              and used a              black gun              to ****** Peter,              and rob him of his'              favorite lost boy.              He left the weapon              in the sleight              of my hand.              "Time to grow up, my dear." 6.    Nine years later,               between now               and long ago;               I still create               after               images               whenever I give someone               the power               to mention               your name. 7.     Father always told me               fairy tales weren't real.               ********               You were mine.               You were real.               I still don't listen               to father. 8.    You are the dauntless touch,               to my sense               of adventure               to my flavor               of judgment,               to my frigid heart of               bravery.               *I don't have what it               takes               to* change.               Not anymore. 9.     One day I will join you.                The sooner,                the better.                So how pointless is it                that I write                these letters,                and remind myself                that I am much older                and very                lonely?               ***"Do you miss me as much as I                      miss you?*** ...
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101
. *On a night where your teeth left indents on my soul, I let the peak of my love ***** out the moon. In the dark I'm pretty sure there are black needles, poised at my throat. You're not a dog of war, It never suited you anyways. But this means I cannot call you My Wolf Girl. Oh no you see, I am an outcast in the brewing of a ****** I'm sorry. I'm coming home, Addison. Being lost isn't so hard after all when I can't make out the letters on your tomb.* ***It's alright. I don't belong here. But patience is all I have left now.*** .
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Jul 10, 2015
Jul 10, 2015 at 1:50 AM UTC
Needles.
i know this girl, her name is Addison beautiful, mandarin and each day i beg for her hand again i know this guy, his name is Walter his oh so sweet taste do i falter he is bold he is bright however we always end in plight but me and Walter we can never take flight much like this girl i know, Meg to whom i will beg beg for serenity and peace when me and her often meet
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Oct 30, 2013
Oct 30, 2013 at 11:48 PM UTC
friends of latent interaction
I once knew a girl from Addison, Illinois. She had extremely curly hair. A bright smile. And big brown eyes that twinkled from her happiness. She was the chubbiest of babies. Born at 8 pounds! However, she grew up. Her eyes stopped twinkling. Her hair stopped curling as much. Her smile faded. She lost so much weight. Underweight, she was. Oh how I wish to see that same child. Born in Addison. 8 pounds. With sparkling eyes. How I wish to see myself as a young, healthy child.
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Nov 4, 2013
Nov 4, 2013 at 10:27 PM UTC
8 pounds.
Darling, you're being to hard on yourself. Darling, I hate to see you cry. You cannot blame yourself for learning how to fly. The lightness in your step, the sparkle in your eye I truly hope are things that will never ever die. Never apologize for setting yourself free. You're finally showing who you always wanted to be.
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May 3, 2017
May 3, 2017 at 8:17 AM UTC
You Know, I'll Tell You (Addison May)
Bad news is always dreaded Lump in my throat as I hear a voice I never thought I would get used to The aftermath of losing a husband yet still dealing with his ex-wife For the sake of three beautiful, full-of-hope faces that are left behind The eldest is sunshine golden Great at math, loves to laugh My precious Kallie-bug The second child, middle stuck Kayla, she-who-creates Is a writer, a drawer, a nurturer through and through The youngest makes me see myself Inquisitive, a loner but still so full of love she cannot help but shine Sweet little Addison Out of 3 gorgeous girls, 2 of you have been cursed Your father's disease passed down exactly We will have to watch you struggle, suffer, cry I do not know what to say to you, to others (tears in my eyes) Besides "hope", we must be so full of it that we can feel/see nothing else I watched your father slip through my grip Once a towering presence of a man Reduced to a slight few pounds drowning in hospital white I am so thankful you had his love as a child, he was something else Never would have wished this for you DKC is not a disease we know well, only that it brings hell Nor can we promise that what we can do will help I pray with your mother to separate gods Each of us knowing that it does not matter Our tears mingle into one single river through hundreds of miles of cellphone tower I will always be here I will fight until I can no more My little loves
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Jun 15, 2015
Jun 15, 2015 at 8:03 PM UTC
My Little Loves & DKC
Addison walked up to the golden gates of Trinity Academy. She turned to the plaque on the marble pillars. There was a carving of the grand 3 witches. The witch of nature was named Laika. She ruled over the 4 elements: Earth, Water, Air, and Fire. The witch of unity was named Alitza. She ruled over all humans and animals. Although, she never “ruled” over them. She was kind and caring and loved all. Then, there was the witch of shadows, Nyx. She ruled over all dark and evil creatures with an iron claw. She was responsible for the 5 runestones losing most of their power. She's the reason most people stopped using magic and turned to technology. She was jealous of her sisters, the other great witches. She wanted to rule Valdera and the rest of the planet along with it. She craved power. So she broke into the Cosmic Hall and tried to break the connection between the runestones in order to harness their power. In doing so, the runestone of darkness was created. It is the source of all shadows. The two witches were horrified to find their sister attempting to drain the magic from the 5 runestones. They had to put a stop to her. In order to make sure she could no longer harm anyone, they banished her to a far-away dimension, Xeyra. Addison’s train of thought was disrupted when she heard the first bell. “Oh no!”, she thought. She started to run to class. Then she realized. “Oh, right. I forgot that I can teleport.”, she chuckled to herself. “Spiritus Dei Omniso!”, she said and teleported into her chair. “Hope nobody saw that”, she thought. After the boring class that seemed to last for eternity, Addison started to head to her locker. She saw a girl with dark orange hair getting picked on. She walked over and touched the girl on the shoulder. “What’s your problem? Why are you projecting your insecurities on this innocent girl?”, Addison asked. “Get lost, Newbie. Unless you wanna be my next victim.”, the bully remarked. “Me? A victim of YOU? Yeah, I don’t think so.”, Addison said. The girl raised her fist towards Addison. “Dimere Invictus Elovar.”, Addison said, unphased. The bully froze in place, then vanished. “You ok?” Addison said to the victim. “Y-yea, I'm alright. Thank you. My name is Leah.”, the timid girl said. “No problem. I'm Addison.”, Addy said. Their fateful encounter was interrupted by principal Tallora. “Miss Addison and Leah! My office! NOW!”, the principal snapped.
0
Feb 28, 2021
Feb 28, 2021 at 3:04 PM UTC
Chapter 2- On the right track
Addison walked up to the golden gates of Trinity Academy. She turned to the plaque on the marble pillars. There was a carving of the grand 3 witches. The witch of nature was named Laika. She ruled over the 4 elements: Earth, Water, Air, and Fire. The witch of unity was named Alitza. She ruled over all humans and animals. Although, she never “ruled” over them. She was kind and caring and loved all. Then, there was the witch of shadows, Nyx. She ruled over all dark and evil creatures with an iron claw. She was responsible for the 5 runestones losing most of their power. She's the reason most people stopped using magic and turned to technology. She was jealous of her sisters, the other great witches. She wanted to rule Valdera and the rest of the planet along with it. She craved power. So she broke into the Cosmic Hall and tried to break the connection between the runestones in order to harness their power. In doing so, the runestone of darkness was created. It is the source of all shadows. The two witches were horrified to find their sister attempting to drain the magic from the 5 runestones. They had to put a stop to her. In order to make sure she could no longer harm anyone, they banished her to a far-away dimension, Xeyra. Addison’s train of thought was disrupted when she heard the first bell. “Oh no!”, she thought. She started to run to class. Then she realized. “Oh, right. I forgot that I can teleport.”, she chuckled to herself. “Spiritus Dei Omniso!”, she said and teleported into her chair. “Hope nobody saw that”, she thought. After the boring class that seemed to last for eternity, Addison started to head to her locker. She saw a girl with dark orange hair getting picked on. She walked over and touched the girl on the shoulder. “What’s your problem? Why are you projecting your insecurities on this innocent girl?”, Addison asked. “Get lost, Newbie. Unless you wanna be my next victim.”, the bully remarked. “Me? A victim of YOU? Yeah, I don’t think so.”, Addison said. The girl raised her fist towards Addison. “Dimere Invictus Elovar.”, Addison said, unphased. The bully froze in place, then vanished. “You ok?” Addison said to the victim. “Y-yea, I'm alright. Thank you. My name is Leah.”, the timid girl said. “No problem. I'm Addison.”, Addy said. Their fateful encounter was interrupted by principal Tallora. “Miss Addison and Leah! My office! NOW!”, the principal snapped.
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3
On this night, Addison seems oddly quiet It’s almost as if he’s a ghost, himself He’s never loquacious, I won’t deny it, But on this night Addison seems oddly quiet. And an odd one he is, though I mean nothing by it, But tonight it seems quite like he’s on a higher shelf On this night, Addison seems oddly quiet, And it’s almost as if he’s a ghost, now, himself.
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Oct 28, 2014
Oct 28, 2014 at 11:11 AM UTC
an Odd triolet
What God has put asunder, I have joined together. He chuckles at this somewhat self-consciously, His clientele comprised primarily of gentlemen of a certain age, Most of whom have stepped off to the altar Twice or thrice, some even more, Whose wives will be, at least pro tem, The mistresses of the Moorish bastardizations Being commissioned by their husbands, Vaguely Iberian grotesqueries Christened Sin Cuidado and Villa Tranquilla Festooned with cornucopias of cornices and cupolas, Featuring vaulted cathedral ceilings and open-prairie floor plans, Impossible to cool in the ninety-degree dawn of August Or heat during the all too frequent cold snaps, (Such being noted to him by a visitor From a staid Boston architectural firm, To which he replied, *Save that for the classrooms, pal. I give the people what they want, dad, And these folks are first, last, and forever All about the façade.*) It is not, however, his effort to turn Florida’s East Coast Into a giant movie set for the stories of Don Juan or El Cid Which inspires him to utter his inversion of the marital vow. He has moved beyond being a mere designer; He is a man of substance, a builder in the larger, cosmic sense, And so he is here, in this sticky, sweltering venue Which disappointed Spaniards named after a rat’s oral cavity, To make a new Venice, complete with electric gondolas, Cloisters which would put any in the Old World to shame, Gesturing, bellowing, and cajoling, A Prospero of sawhorses and steam shovels, As displaced Seminoles and colored laborers Sweat and swear and stumble As they dredge swamps and hack down stumpy mangroves In the service of his vision, the aggrandizement of his bottom line, Arm-twisting the caprices of drought and hurricane To serve the pricier whims Of a gaggle of DuPonts and Wanamakers. It’s not that I don’t believe in a higher power, he will demur, I’m simply not averse to some slight enhancement of His plans.
0
Aug 20, 2021
Aug 20, 2021 at 10:18 AM UTC
Addison Mizener In The Swamps
What God has put asunder, I have joined together. He chuckles at this somewhat self-consciously, His clientele comprised primarily of gentlemen of a certain age, Most of whom have stepped off to the altar Twice or thrice, some even more, Whose wives will be, at least pro tem, The mistresses of the Moorish bastardizations Being commissioned by their husbands, Vaguely Iberian grotesqueries Christened Sin Cuidado and Villa Tranquilla Festooned with cornucopias of cornices and cupolas, Featuring vaulted cathedral ceilings and open-prairie floor plans, Impossible to cool in the ninety-degree dawn of August Or heat during the all too frequent cold snaps, (Such being noted to him by a visitor From a staid Boston architectural firm, To which he replied, *Save that for the classrooms, pal. I give the people what they want, dad, And these folks are first, last, and forever All about the façade.*) It is not, however, his effort to turn Florida’s East Coast Into a giant movie set for the stories of Don Juan or El Cid Which inspires him to utter his inversion of the marital vow. He has moved beyond being a mere designer; He is a man of substance, a builder in the larger, cosmic sense, And so he is here, in this sticky, sweltering venue Which disappointed Spaniards named after a rat’s oral cavity, To make a new Venice, complete with electric gondolas, Cloisters which would put any in the Old World to shame, Gesturing, bellowing, and cajoling, A Prospero of sawhorses and steam shovels, As displaced Seminoles and colored laborers Sweat and swear and stumble As they dredge swamps and hack down stumpy mangroves In the service of his vision, the aggrandizement of his bottom line, Arm-twisting the caprices of drought and hurricane To serve the pricier whims Of a gaggle of DuPonts and Wanamakers. It’s not that I don’t believe in a higher power, he will demur, I’m simply not averse to some slight enhancement of His plans.
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A loud siren noise blared through the room. “Ughhh! 5 more minutes!!!”, Addison grunted. “Ria, can you get that?”, Addison said. Soteria was lying at the foot of her bed in the form of a black cat. She just turned away and licked her paw. “Fine.”, Addison said. She sat up and her palm landed on the snooze button. She rolled off the bed and accidentally hit her head on the nightstand. She winced in pain, rubbing her head. Addison heard footsteps coming up the stairs. “Addyyy! Breakfast time!!”, someone said in a sing-songy voice. Addy looked at Ria. “Where is HER snooze button! It's 6 am! It should be forbidden to wake up this early”, she thought. “Coming Aunt Gemma!”, she shouted. She quickly got dressed and rushed downstairs. Gemmaline turned to Addy as she walked downstairs. “I made your favorite! Enchantaberry Waffles!”, she said. “What’s the occasion?”, Addy said, as she put a waffle in her mouth. “Your first day of high school silly!”, Gemma said in a joyful voice. Addy slumped into a chair. “Was that today?”, she said in a muffled voice. “C,mon Addy. I know you are scared but-”, Gemma said, but was interrupted. “No, I'm not scared. I’m just... not a people person, ya know?”. “Not a people person, huh? What happened to the Addy that used to run around with other kids at the playground pretending to cast spells?”, Gemma said in a smug voice. “Oh, she’s still there. Just deep, deep, deep, deep, DEEEEPPP down.”, Addy replied. “Just- promise me you’ll at least TRY to have a good day”, Gemma said. “Ok, fine. I'll try.”, Addy said. “Thank you.”, Gemma said, as she kissed Addison on the head. Addison smoothed her hair out and walked towards the door. She slumped her bag onto her shoulder and unlocked the door. “Bye Aunt Gemma”. Gemma blew a kiss as Addy walked out the door. Addison took a deep breath and headed towards the bus stop. She sat on the bench and looked down both ways of the cobblestone road. She pulled out her magic scroll. She started swiping through old pictures of her as a kid. One picture caught her attention. It was a picture of her holding her first wand. It was a basic starter wand, with a safety strap. “Was I really that danger-prone?”, she thought. The next photo was one of her dangling in the air, hanging from her wand. “Nevermind”, she thought.
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Feb 25, 2021
Feb 25, 2021 at 7:04 PM UTC
Chapter 1-Wake-up call
A loud siren noise blared through the room. “Ughhh! 5 more minutes!!!”, Addison grunted. “Ria, can you get that?”, Addison said. Soteria was lying at the foot of her bed in the form of a black cat. She just turned away and licked her paw. “Fine.”, Addison said. She sat up and her palm landed on the snooze button. She rolled off the bed and accidentally hit her head on the nightstand. She winced in pain, rubbing her head. Addison heard footsteps coming up the stairs. “Addyyy! Breakfast time!!”, someone said in a sing-songy voice. Addy looked at Ria. “Where is HER snooze button! It's 6 am! It should be forbidden to wake up this early”, she thought. “Coming Aunt Gemma!”, she shouted. She quickly got dressed and rushed downstairs. Gemmaline turned to Addy as she walked downstairs. “I made your favorite! Enchantaberry Waffles!”, she said. “What’s the occasion?”, Addy said, as she put a waffle in her mouth. “Your first day of high school silly!”, Gemma said in a joyful voice. Addy slumped into a chair. “Was that today?”, she said in a muffled voice. “C,mon Addy. I know you are scared but-”, Gemma said, but was interrupted. “No, I'm not scared. I’m just... not a people person, ya know?”. “Not a people person, huh? What happened to the Addy that used to run around with other kids at the playground pretending to cast spells?”, Gemma said in a smug voice. “Oh, she’s still there. Just deep, deep, deep, deep, DEEEEPPP down.”, Addy replied. “Just- promise me you’ll at least TRY to have a good day”, Gemma said. “Ok, fine. I'll try.”, Addy said. “Thank you.”, Gemma said, as she kissed Addison on the head. Addison smoothed her hair out and walked towards the door. She slumped her bag onto her shoulder and unlocked the door. “Bye Aunt Gemma”. Gemma blew a kiss as Addy walked out the door. Addison took a deep breath and headed towards the bus stop. She sat on the bench and looked down both ways of the cobblestone road. She pulled out her magic scroll. She started swiping through old pictures of her as a kid. One picture caught her attention. It was a picture of her holding her first wand. It was a basic starter wand, with a safety strap. “Was I really that danger-prone?”, she thought. The next photo was one of her dangling in the air, hanging from her wand. “Nevermind”, she thought.
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Certainly it has become a ubiquitous VIRAL DOPE Here we are so TERRIFIED and trapped in a unique FEAR’S COPE The search for prognoses remains a huge ***** It looks scary but we ought to hold on tenaciously to any available surviving ROPE Our vim should skyrocket and never SLOPE And may we be exposed to the true LIGHT OF HOPE Will COVID19 prevail eternally? NOPE...! Martin Addison
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Apr 3, 2020
Apr 3, 2020 at 12:21 PM UTC
About Covid19