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"alexis" poems
Oh Generational gap, a cancer of to all mankind. The father of lack of communication between the young and the old. A difference brought about the tastes and values. The pain faced between young and aged but can’t be touched. It started by 1960’s the decades of revolutionary change. It cut across the world in values of *** religion and civil rights. The disease the emerged earned its self a name by social scientists. It then became “Generational Gap” I would love to quote a man of great thoughts, Alexis De Tocqueville, who commented that; “Among democratic nations, each generation is a new people” I have come to appreciate these words. When I walk down the streets noticing the rising incompatibility existing in our society Though I admire the old days when the old and young associated freely, working on the same farms Grandparents telling stories to their little ones; what a lovely society they had. With the invention of television and computers some families were bonded in communication While others live in agony especially the illiterate. The old desire different designs from the youth, whose trends change per living day of nakedness Young people prefer working in executive places like offices compared to the donkey farm work considered to be for the old Another cause of generational gap is decay in morals; the young people feel like they know everything and don’t like to be corrected thus taking information from old people as outdated, young people finding lots of hardships to great their elders In the field of music elders prefer oldies and more preferably educative songs, and as for the youths they delight in Hip-hop and dancehall, am sure those present here can testify to this a term with no disco dances makes us dull students. When it comes to religious issues, youth find it a burden to go to church and if they offer to go they prefer it to be in a club way. Praise and worship accompanied by jazz unlike the old days where drums are the centre of music. Cultures in this way have greatly faded away; the trend of western culture has flamed up the world. Drugs and *** are a hobby and celebrated amongst the youth, yet *** to the old was for companionship and co-creation. But when we came to medical technology we all applause in general, young or old there is easy treatment, use of scanners, and medical facilities cuts across.
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Mar 25, 2015
Mar 25, 2015 at 7:58 AM UTC
GENERATIONAL GAP
Oh Generational gap, a cancer of to all mankind. The father of lack of communication between the young and the old. A difference brought about the tastes and values. The pain faced between young and aged but can’t be touched. It started by 1960’s the decades of revolutionary change. It cut across the world in values of *** religion and civil rights. The disease the emerged earned its self a name by social scientists. It then became “Generational Gap” I would love to quote a man of great thoughts, Alexis De Tocqueville, who commented that; “Among democratic nations, each generation is a new people” I have come to appreciate these words. When I walk down the streets noticing the rising incompatibility existing in our society Though I admire the old days when the old and young associated freely, working on the same farms Grandparents telling stories to their little ones; what a lovely society they had. With the invention of television and computers some families were bonded in communication While others live in agony especially the illiterate. The old desire different designs from the youth, whose trends change per living day of nakedness Young people prefer working in executive places like offices compared to the donkey farm work considered to be for the old Another cause of generational gap is decay in morals; the young people feel like they know everything and don’t like to be corrected thus taking information from old people as outdated, young people finding lots of hardships to great their elders In the field of music elders prefer oldies and more preferably educative songs, and as for the youths they delight in Hip-hop and dancehall, am sure those present here can testify to this a term with no disco dances makes us dull students. When it comes to religious issues, youth find it a burden to go to church and if they offer to go they prefer it to be in a club way. Praise and worship accompanied by jazz unlike the old days where drums are the centre of music. Cultures in this way have greatly faded away; the trend of western culture has flamed up the world. Drugs and *** are a hobby and celebrated amongst the youth, yet *** to the old was for companionship and co-creation. But when we came to medical technology we all applause in general, young or old there is easy treatment, use of scanners, and medical facilities cuts across.
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17
The African American Blonde Bombshell on ya TV screen. It is I, ya younger victim of the bullying you caused me to suffer in our younger years together and now I am the #WCW on ya Twitter, Facebook and Instagram. She's bad huh. Too bad you lost ya chance with her and if only you knew her top secret. Maybe I should give u a chance to apologize and give me the love and respect you wouldn't give Adrian. Now that I am Alexis you want to cater to me and get my ******* down to my ankles. You want me to be ya main chick and you wanna put a ring on it. Well little do you know I am the Transgendered Barbie I always wanted to be. Oh now your surprised. Didn't know I was born a man.......or should I say your punching bag because you loved to use me to hide your real sexuality. Now the jokes on you.
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May 20, 2015
May 20, 2015 at 10:18 PM UTC
She: Transgendered Barbie
I don't love my body. I don't love the curls on my head, the way they become frizzy at the drop of a hat. The way they get in the way when I do my dishes. The way that they have a mind of their own in the morning. You call me 'curly sue'. You pull on my brown ringlets and smile when they bounce back into place. You like the way my curls smell when I get out of the shower. I don't love my body. My ******* The way the hang from my chest like sandbags. The way they restrict me from buying the clothes I like. You named them. Alessa and Alexis. The way a little girl names the dolls that she loves so much. Desire flashes in your eyes when I take off my shirt. I don't love my body. The first time you saw me naked I wrapped my arms around my tummy so that you couldn't see my belly. You grabbed my arms and put them by my side, and smirked and said "beautiful". I never hid myself from you again. I don't love my body. I hate the way my sides roll when I move. You came home from practice, bruised and bloodied. You told me that your friend tackled you to the ground and you saw your life flash before your eyes; you said that my **** body was the last thing you saw before you momentarily blacked out. I don't love my body. I hate it. I look in the mirror and see the most pathetic pile of flesh, fat, muscle, bone and hair that ever lived on this earth. I waited so long to share it with another, because I thought that this body, this vessel, was not worthy of appreciation. You look at me the way a starving child looks at a five course meal. You touch me like a homeless man sleeping on Egyptian cotton sheets for the first time. I don't love my body. But the way you love my body, the way you love my lumps and bumps and scars and flesh, gives me hope that some day soon I could grow to love it as well. You make me feel things that I never thought I deserved to feel.
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Apr 26, 2015
Apr 26, 2015 at 9:54 PM UTC
Curly Sue
I don't love my body. I don't love the curls on my head, the way they become frizzy at the drop of a hat. The way they get in the way when I do my dishes. The way that they have a mind of their own in the morning. You call me 'curly sue'. You pull on my brown ringlets and smile when they bounce back into place. You like the way my curls smell when I get out of the shower. I don't love my body. My ******* The way the hang from my chest like sandbags. The way they restrict me from buying the clothes I like. You named them. Alessa and Alexis. The way a little girl names the dolls that she loves so much. Desire flashes in your eyes when I take off my shirt. I don't love my body. The first time you saw me naked I wrapped my arms around my tummy so that you couldn't see my belly. You grabbed my arms and put them by my side, and smirked and said "beautiful". I never hid myself from you again. I don't love my body. I hate the way my sides roll when I move. You came home from practice, bruised and bloodied. You told me that your friend tackled you to the ground and you saw your life flash before your eyes; you said that my **** body was the last thing you saw before you momentarily blacked out. I don't love my body. I hate it. I look in the mirror and see the most pathetic pile of flesh, fat, muscle, bone and hair that ever lived on this earth. I waited so long to share it with another, because I thought that this body, this vessel, was not worthy of appreciation. You look at me the way a starving child looks at a five course meal. You touch me like a homeless man sleeping on Egyptian cotton sheets for the first time. I don't love my body. But the way you love my body, the way you love my lumps and bumps and scars and flesh, gives me hope that some day soon I could grow to love it as well. You make me feel things that I never thought I deserved to feel.
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53
As a matter of fact "I Do" This particular hospital visit has become an UnKnown drifting barge of cold, Dismal,a bit austere and forlorn Fatigue and tension was an early onset of the week. Spent most the time looking for relief Every attempt gave life to a unique defeat An Inexorable desire for the calm to anoint me I volunteer, then become abased, when they don't appoint me Irritated When Lustful walls castigate me Now the needle sings a seductive serenade of sedition, Slowly, softening the soul to surrender to sleep and submission That is the mental, and physical surrender, but what of the spiritual and emotional exhortation for permission? I remain here not home I prepare for the pain all alone Dilaudid stirring up my veins and then some Hoping to endow or maim some predilection from U, -Alexis-
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Nov 10, 2012
Nov 10, 2012 at 3:10 AM UTC
AS A MATTER OF FACT "I DO"
LATE NIGHT ON A DATE NIGHT Its cold in the sand There's salt in the air Our lips collide As we watch the night sky Embracing tight as the Ocean sings us its lullaby This is where it all began Late night on a date night We are lovers in a room Discovering each others flesh Playing games as we hear the rain Unwrapping your lace Like a gift in a foreign place This is where we lost control Late night on a date night An April day has arrived The nights before has made us close I see your form as you disrobe Who would of known Tonight we create life This is where we made a miracle Late night on a date night Your showing our seed I'm showing a smile We both glow and sip our wine Your day, a birthday, I ask if we should The next day you say yes you would Your so beautiful as I take you This is where we joined our souls Late night on a date night The sounds, the people, My heart racing as you make your approach Your beauty, and smile, your wedding gown I watch you get closer, Kissing the bride as we seal our vows A long road from then till now This is where we try and make more Late nights on a date night. -Alexis J. Meighan-
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Oct 22, 2012
Oct 22, 2012 at 8:25 PM UTC
LATE NIGHT ON A DATE NIGHT
Unknown, conceived, and unaware His first breath, his first words His first steps, his first girl He screams from hunger Teary eyed and bawling for his mother The world seems too big for his tiny hands But in his lifetime, the world would be in his grasp First day in class Alone Learning the basics The path walked by legends, scholars, and warriors Shapes colors and words A long time in no time First kiss the prom night Life long friends then grad night His first love, his first wife His first child, his first highlight First loan for his first home Stock market on the rise He takes full advantage Market crashes And they manage Business man with business plan Older brother, caring friend Loving father, devoted husband There for his child's first breath His first words, his first steps The day would come when he would pass Now the chance His first born from his first home Raised to be the man he was and so much more He followed in his fathers first footsteps. Once follower now leading Repeat these example for words are fleeting From next to next as is man -Alexis J Meighan-
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Oct 22, 2012
Oct 22, 2012 at 11:35 PM UTC
Poetry of a man (The History)
I am keening In lament bewailed at this notion. Contempt for structure, value and discipline is acceptable. Jeremiad A parent can't parent but would be praised for "friending" rather than tending to their child's growth. Hippie tricksters and hipster is all the craze with new age bad zones and soft tones Then everyone moans and claim the lack of parenting is to blame when they go columbine and spray bullets to deal with the torment. I'm sick of the news and its pro no rules avocation Sick of the pop trend of life is always a dead end Sick of fly by night "let them be and hope they make it" attitudes When a little hug and a quick "let me show you" can make our youths guide the progress rather than tear it down. I little input is appreciated, accepted and acknowledged But not mandatory Be good be rewarded, be bad be without Very self explanatory. Those in between that goal are an obstacle not a hero I want greatness for my child Not mediocrity to a zero. Parent with your experience and regulation Not google and trending See the end and before you begin and preempt the blind pretending. Cuz today is not ok When we fear tomorrow Cuz yesterdays ways were forgotten. From one father to the next -Alexis J Meighan-
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Oct 22, 2012
Oct 22, 2012 at 11:25 PM UTC
My Jeremiad
5 W's Of The Desert Walker. WHAT does a man in the heat dream of? Maybe he dreams of the sweet taste of the rain What amenities does he seek in a bare sky with only the sun? He is given an audience with his delusions. He is granted a moment of peace under his imaginary palm. He can swim in the dry waters of the oasis till the sand shreds his skin. WHEN does his vagrant breath retreat? Maybe as the expired adventure turns to torture? In a blink his shade diminishes His view of the horizon brings drought to his tongue As his fatigue pays homage to the expanding desert. WHERE does a lost traveler turn when every direction leads nowhere? Does he look up for divinity? A panicked man, with his hands to the skies, calls for relief. But its not the cool he's expecting, its mercy for his soul when his time comes. WHO does he hear when his eyes begin to fail? Family, a child, maybe a lover with soft flesh? Face down in the dunes he can taste the salty blend of the earth. The voice of his cherished love echoes in his fading consciousness. A great comfort in his last request. WHY do we fall down? Because we're weak and unbalanced. So we can get back up? No sometimes we are just not as big as our ego would have us believe. The road to triumph can be hard to traverse unprepared. But the value of the experience can be as priceless as the outcome. -Alexis J. Meighan-
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Oct 22, 2012
Oct 22, 2012 at 8:10 PM UTC
5 W's of the dessert walker
Lisa Nelle had two names like a pornstar. She'd put her makeup on and stick all this blackness on under her eyes like she was holding night in bags. We watched Hey Arnold! DVDs at five in the morning, and smoked the whole place up. Sometimes her and Alexis would go in the back room. Alexis never liked me. Lisa Nelle had this way of looking at you where she'd take her eyes and she'd work her way down to your stomach. She could find a star in my intestines, a dwarf light could warble in my stomach and she'd see it through my belly button. She'd pull it out wings and all and tell me that Khalil knew the answers. Out of this two-ton purse she carried around, she'd whip out a compilation of Khalil Gibran. One time she told me how her father used to pull her hair and thighs. She didn't say anything about it again. When we tripped shrooms, she took my hands and put them on her neck and asked me to feel for the nebulas underneath her skin. When I read some of the stuff you send me, the emails, texts or poems, I can't help but wonder how many words I now know as a result of you that I wouldn't know if I hadn't been looking around for bud and someone I knew that knew you. I'm sorry Lisa Nelle, that things didn't work out with you and Alexis when they did with you and Sabrosa. Sometimes I hate myself too.
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Mar 9, 2012
Mar 9, 2012 at 8:56 PM UTC
Beautiful Women can be Lesbians Too.
FRIENDS They were gone to us Left the impression that the horizon was home They spoke so highly of us As is the sunshine were beneath our prints and we lit the path behind us They held on to our glory like a child to its pillow in a thunder storm Told of our greatness and bragged of our fellow ship They took satisfaction in our attempts and celebrated our success They never new impatience for we were worth the wait Never felt dissatisfied cause we please in many way We only showed nerve when defending there honor And we honored there loyalty by never being too far away -Alexis J. Meighan-
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Oct 22, 2012
Oct 22, 2012 at 9:02 PM UTC
FRIENDS
I am keening In lament bewailed at this notion. Contempt for structure, value and discipline is acceptable. Jeremiad A parent can't parent but would be praised for "friending" rather than tending to their child's growth. Hippie tricksters and hipster is all the craze with new age bad zones and soft tones Then everyone moans and claim the lack of parenting is to blame when they go columbine and spray bullets to deal with the torment. I'm sick of the news and its pro no rules avocation Sick of the pop trend of life is always a dead end Sick of fly by night "let them be and hope they make it" attitudes When a little hug and a quick "let me show you" can make our youths guide the progress rather than tear it down. I little input is appreciated, accepted and acknowledged But not mandatory Be good be rewarded, be bad be without Very self explanatory. Those in between that goal are an obstacle not a hero I want greatness for my child Not mediocrity to a zero. Parent with your experience and regulation Not google and trending See the end and before you begin and preempt the blind pretending. Cuz today is not ok When we fear tomorrow Cuz yesterdays ways were forgotten. From one father to the next -Alexis J Meighan-
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Oct 22, 2012
Oct 22, 2012 at 11:27 PM UTC
My Jeremiad
I see our child when I look at you The ocean in its eyes like mommy’s deep pretty blue I see it smile when you glance at me Innocent, soft and just for me Tiny little hands that reach for everything Like daddy when mommy is close and his heart start to sing I dream of our child with the best of our traits My desires and strength, passion loyalty, honor and obedience Your ambitions and dedication Brains, grace, beauty, organization, tolerance and adoration I feel our child when I touch you Its warmth and soul as I love you When I embrace you, I embrace it And when I praise you, I praise it too I see our child when I look at you What do you see? When you look at me? Alexis J Meighan
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Oct 22, 2012
Oct 22, 2012 at 8:53 PM UTC
I see our child when I look at you
There is a land by faith I’ve seen Where skies no clouded regions know; Where they know not the sorrows of time and no shadows fall to blight the view That land no want has ever known, Nor pain nor sickness nor distress; there, Death, the last enemy, is slain; There those who meet shall part no more, And those long parted meet again. There’s a land far away.. Beyond these wild winds and gloomy skies, Beyond Death’s cloudy portal, There is a land where beauty never dies And love becomes immortal; A land whose light is never dimmed by shadow, Whose fields are ever vernal, Where nothing beautiful can ever fade, But blooms for aye eternal.
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Feb 26, 2023
Feb 26, 2023 at 3:12 AM UTC
THERE IS A LAND — ALEXIS KARPOUZOS
Alexis calls me cruel; The rifted crags that hold The gathered ice of winter, He says, are not more cold. When even the very blossoms Around the fountain's brim, And forest walks, can witness The love I bear to him. I would that I could utter My feelings without shame; And tell him how I love him, Nor wrong my ****** fame. Alas! to seize the moment When heart inclines to heart, And press a suit with passion, Is not a woman's part. If man comes not to gather The roses where they stand, They fade among their foliage; They cannot seek his hand.
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2.1k
Song (From The Spanish Of Iglesias)
My mom told me: when you walk through sorrow, do not fear the shadows they are only the night’s way of teaching you the stars. you are not just a child of mine, you are a child of the universe born from fire, shaped by silence, destined for infinity. And when I asked her, “what is the meaning of all this?” she smiled, and said: to live is to remember that you are more than yourself, that the cosmos speaks in your breath, and every goodbye is the seed of another hello.
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Sep 4, 2025
Sep 4, 2025 at 2:20 AM UTC
MY MOM TOLD ME - ALEXIS KARPOUZOS
The light Blessed by its radiant warmth It wraps it self around my flesh Lips are as warm as its hue Yet as soft and the blooming petals That say good morning I love you The light runs and drips through the scene Making its way through the seems Finding its access to room where I yawn and great its touch with a grunt My own (caveman language) good morning I love you The light Like the beach reaches the shores of your image Receding and retreating as you move Nudging you, trying Unsuccessful to budge you We conspire against you (the light and I) Feel my wet tongue and sticky lips Trailing from shoulders to your hip. You up yet? No? I'll kiss you good morning some more Open those sleepy eyes for my "I love you" -Alexis J Meighan-
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Oct 22, 2012
Oct 22, 2012 at 11:24 PM UTC
Morning Light
Mountains fall and seas divide and impossible things may seem but where there’s despair there is and faith and where there’s sadness the consolation is near. Every breath is a chance to reborn, but to be reborn you have to die before dying.
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Jul 15, 2022
Jul 15, 2022 at 4:27 AM UTC
REBORN - ALEXIS KARPOUZOS
"Tragedy of the grim fool" Skinny little girl knows no rules Reset her brain for grim little fool Ate moldy food and rotten gruel. For the growing heart she uses jagged tools Chipped building blocks and rusted nails Hammered souls breed a face with vales Wearing mask her task she fails All for food while fool set sail Skinny little girl would scrape her knees Hungry for fool in position to plead Panhandle emotions dignity set free Scorn and thorn by his laugh was she Adored by her fans, but blind to their praise Withered away with puffed cheeks that her tears graze Fool applauded her corruption, endorsed her dismay Her fans just stared as she fell of stage With a thud she slumped to the cold paved floor A circle gathered around once more Scarlet fairies escaped her pores Goodbye skinny little girl, fool has closed the door. -Alexis J. Meighan-
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Oct 22, 2012
Oct 22, 2012 at 11:44 PM UTC
Tragedy of the Grimm Fool
Fair lovely Maid, or if that Title be Too weak, too Feminine for Nobler thee, Permit a Name that more Approaches Truth: And let me call thee, Lovely Charming Youth. This last will justifie my soft complaint, While that may serve to lessen my constraint; And without Blushes I the Youth persue, When so much beauteous Woman is in view. Against thy Charms we struggle but in vain With thy deluding Form thou giv'st us pain, While the bright Nymph betrays us to the Swain. In pity to our *** sure thou wer't sent, That we might Love, and yet be Innocent: For sure no Crime with thee we can commit; Or if we shou'd - thy Form excuses it. For who, that gathers fairest Flowers believes A Snake lies hid beneath the Fragrant Leaves. Though beauteous Wonder of a different kind, Soft Cloris with the dear Alexis join'd; When e'er the Manly part of thee, wou'd plead Though tempts us with the Image of the Maid, While we the noblest Passions do extend The Love to Hermes, Aphrodite the Friend.v
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1.9k
To the Fair Clarinda
Saturday morning cartoons in the late 80's Beeeeeep Beeeep Beep! Blankets get thrown Quick yawn and a stretch And I'm gone. Run to the cabinet grab my rescuer's toothbrush and colgate. Its the total complete toothpaste Brushing frantically in the pantry and I grab the frosty flake You know they're  Greeeeeeeat. Get to the sink and rinse with a swift swish and a spit. Done with that, as I dig through the drawers for my plastic Punch Bowl. Pour in the entire box of cereal and a half gallon of liquid gold 6:53am tap the power button on the remote control, stack all the pillows and blankets in the middle of the room, 5 min left till my favorite shows 7am and it begins, Spider-man and his amazing friends 7:30 and its the Wonder Twins Commercial break for school house rock, go take a **** then switch my cereal to cookie crisp 8am silver hawks and the copper kid, 8:30 voltron black lion forms the head While thunder cats at 9am battle Mumm-Ra the un-dead 930 pound puppies that was my thing Bright eyes, violet, and cooler was the man When 10am came that meant the shows were coming to an end. That half-hour reserved for Prince Adam of Eternia better known as He-man And the last of the shows came after 1030 to 11o'clock. Here came "the Little's" cuz the Little's don't stop. The sunlight peaking through the blinds, 11 years old, cereal all gone spazzed on a sugar rush, Waiting to play with my cousins. Grandma picks me up from uncle Gary then off to Dain and Tony for destruction, bike race, GI Joe and burgers from Rally's Those were the days The good ol days -Alexis J. Meighan- July 13 at 8:11pm ·
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Aug 11, 2013
Aug 11, 2013 at 12:17 AM UTC
Saturday morning cartoons in the late 80's
Saturday morning cartoons in the late 80's Beeeeeep Beeeep Beep! Blankets get thrown Quick yawn and a stretch And I'm gone. Run to the cabinet grab my rescuer's toothbrush and colgate. Its the total complete toothpaste Brushing frantically in the pantry and I grab the frosty flake You know they're  Greeeeeeeat. Get to the sink and rinse with a swift swish and a spit. Done with that, as I dig through the drawers for my plastic Punch Bowl. Pour in the entire box of cereal and a half gallon of liquid gold 6:53am tap the power button on the remote control, stack all the pillows and blankets in the middle of the room, 5 min left till my favorite shows 7am and it begins, Spider-man and his amazing friends 7:30 and its the Wonder Twins Commercial break for school house rock, go take a **** then switch my cereal to cookie crisp 8am silver hawks and the copper kid, 8:30 voltron black lion forms the head While thunder cats at 9am battle Mumm-Ra the un-dead 930 pound puppies that was my thing Bright eyes, violet, and cooler was the man When 10am came that meant the shows were coming to an end. That half-hour reserved for Prince Adam of Eternia better known as He-man And the last of the shows came after 1030 to 11o'clock. Here came "the Little's" cuz the Little's don't stop. The sunlight peaking through the blinds, 11 years old, cereal all gone spazzed on a sugar rush, Waiting to play with my cousins. Grandma picks me up from uncle Gary then off to Dain and Tony for destruction, bike race, GI Joe and burgers from Rally's Those were the days The good ol days -Alexis J. Meighan- July 13 at 8:11pm ·
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Jake. Your name felt bitter on my lips. Jake. You touched her and I screamed. Jake. You gave great hugs. Jake. Your glares cut like knives. Jake. Your laugh sounds empty. Jake. Your smile is forced. Jake. All you. Alexis My name doesn't touch your lips. Alexis. I touch him and you don't care. Alexis. I held on for a little too long. Alexis. Eyes filled with tears instead of glares. Alexis. My laugh is full. Alexis. My smile is genuine. Alexis. So paradoxal.
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Feb 5, 2015
Feb 5, 2015 at 7:13 PM UTC
Names
Yes, injured Woman! Rise, assert thy right! Woman! Too long degraded, scorned, oppressed. Unlock the potential you have inside, expand your wings and fly. We need to move beyond the limits we've placed upon our lives to touch your heart, O love, Rise up, O woman!
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Jul 4, 2022
Jul 4, 2022 at 2:11 AM UTC
RISE UP WOMAN - ALEXIS KARPOUZOS
The world is burning, Matter dissolves — Forms collapse — the temples, the empires, the names etched on marble. Even the body, faithful companion, bends to the law of fading. But what is form but the shadow of becoming? And yet, essence remains — not the monuments, not the crowns, but the invisible pulse that binds us. It survives the fire, travels through the ashes, and whispers: “You are more than what perishes. You are the song, not the instrument.” The cities fall into sparks, the towers bow into ash, and still the stars scatter their infinite silence. What is consumed here is reborn elsewhere, for the cosmos has no waste, only transformation. We are flames too, brief torches of awareness wandering through the night of time. Our suffering is not the end, but the beginning of vision. Through the smoke of endings we glimpse the open horizon— where fire becomes light, and light becomes love. The world in flames is not the world perishing, but the world remembering its eternal source.
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Sep 24, 2025
Sep 24, 2025 at 9:00 AM UTC
THE WORLD IS BURNING - ALEXIS KARPOUZOS
All this universe, to the furthest stars, all beyond them, is your flesh, your soul. And one day, under the great sky in solitude and silence, with humble heart shall I stand face to face with the abyss, then, I think, i will understand why there is such a play of colors on clouds, on water, and why flowers are painted in tints, why there is music in leaves, and why the waves sending their chorus of voices to the heart of the listening earth when I sing to make you dance.
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Jan 8, 2022
Jan 8, 2022 at 7:46 AM UTC
WITH HUMBLE HEART - ALEXIS KARPOUZOS
I am a man regardless of what you say. I am a man regardless of what I see in the mirror every day. Alexis Elizabeth Glenn... That name will be reserved for someone who wants it because it sure as hell isn't me. Alexavier Edward Glenn... That name I only hear in my head. Yet when I turn that big one right it will be the only name coming from people's mouths. When I turn eighteen my life will get better. Alexis Elizabeth Glenn... This name doesn't mean anything anymore. Soon it will be a distant memory a horrible nightmare. Alexavier Edward Glenn... My future daydream. Don't worry this isn't the death of Alexis. It is the birth of Alexavier. Yet most of her will for out. Yet she will always be part of me. I won't cross out that name. Alexis Elizabeth Glenn From my memoir. Alexis Elizabeth Glenn is the prologue for Alexavier Edward Glenn.
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Mar 1, 2015
Mar 1, 2015 at 11:44 PM UTC
My Name