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"anywho" poems
(sorry, but not sorry) There once was a potato plant, (Because potatoes grow on plants...) This plant harvested baby potatoes. This was no ordinary potato plant, however, It was SPECIAL! Anywho, the plant grew several baby potatoes, Who were harvested and shipped on a crate to a grocery store in a cold, dark shipping truck. The potatoes, they weren't scared! Yah know why? Simple. Because Potatoes don't have FEELINGS! ....but if they did....they'd be scared. Take my word for it. The potatoes arrived at the store and were bagged, ready for purchase. They sat together in a pile for hours, thinking about (but not thinking about) what would happen in the future, why they were in this bag, UNTIL, UNTIL a homeless man (he looked homeless) reached into the bag, pulled out a single spud, and RAN! Out the store, down the street, HE WAS OUTTA THERE! BYE-BYE SUCKERS! Well, on his way to.... wherever he was going, he fell and dropped it. That's what stealing does to yah. It rolled into an abandoned alley, far away from the man's sight. He couldn't stop and look for it, because he was being chased, so he ran away sourly, the potato being left cold and alone, without it's family to be piled up motionlessly beside it. This potato was different. Unlike it's family, it could feel, it could think and understand, even without knowing language at all, it's like the potato just knew everything and anything, without a purpose. And, another thing. This potato, it was hungry. Very hungry. Only hours later (again) A parentless child walked the streets, searching for something to eat. They hadn't eaten in days. Of course, the child found the battered potato on the ground,picked it up and smiled. It was the end of the potatoes life cycle, it seemed. Or...was it? Seconds until the end, seconds until facing the terrifying wrath of the human's sharp, untaimed teeth, seconds until it got to see if there was a potato heaven or not, JUST SECONDS, something changed. The spud; it grew. No, it didn't grow in size, but it did grow a mouth, and arms. And it could scream. Oh God, yes, it could wail like no tomorrow, so, quickly adapting to it's new form; it yelled ****** ****** The child threw it at a wall, screaming and running away. ..... Silence from the potato. Sadly, it could withstand the grasp of a sweaty, homeless dude, it could bare the growing silence from it's siblings, it could even dodge the teeth of a starving ape! But the potato was no match for a wall. Mashed potatoes for dinner it is.
0
Sep 13, 2017
Sep 13, 2017 at 8:54 PM UTC
Potato
(sorry, but not sorry) There once was a potato plant, (Because potatoes grow on plants...) This plant harvested baby potatoes. This was no ordinary potato plant, however, It was SPECIAL! Anywho, the plant grew several baby potatoes, Who were harvested and shipped on a crate to a grocery store in a cold, dark shipping truck. The potatoes, they weren't scared! Yah know why? Simple. Because Potatoes don't have FEELINGS! ....but if they did....they'd be scared. Take my word for it. The potatoes arrived at the store and were bagged, ready for purchase. They sat together in a pile for hours, thinking about (but not thinking about) what would happen in the future, why they were in this bag, UNTIL, UNTIL a homeless man (he looked homeless) reached into the bag, pulled out a single spud, and RAN! Out the store, down the street, HE WAS OUTTA THERE! BYE-BYE SUCKERS! Well, on his way to.... wherever he was going, he fell and dropped it. That's what stealing does to yah. It rolled into an abandoned alley, far away from the man's sight. He couldn't stop and look for it, because he was being chased, so he ran away sourly, the potato being left cold and alone, without it's family to be piled up motionlessly beside it. This potato was different. Unlike it's family, it could feel, it could think and understand, even without knowing language at all, it's like the potato just knew everything and anything, without a purpose. And, another thing. This potato, it was hungry. Very hungry. Only hours later (again) A parentless child walked the streets, searching for something to eat. They hadn't eaten in days. Of course, the child found the battered potato on the ground,picked it up and smiled. It was the end of the potatoes life cycle, it seemed. Or...was it? Seconds until the end, seconds until facing the terrifying wrath of the human's sharp, untaimed teeth, seconds until it got to see if there was a potato heaven or not, JUST SECONDS, something changed. The spud; it grew. No, it didn't grow in size, but it did grow a mouth, and arms. And it could scream. Oh God, yes, it could wail like no tomorrow, so, quickly adapting to it's new form; it yelled ****** ****** The child threw it at a wall, screaming and running away. ..... Silence from the potato. Sadly, it could withstand the grasp of a sweaty, homeless dude, it could bare the growing silence from it's siblings, it could even dodge the teeth of a starving ape! But the potato was no match for a wall. Mashed potatoes for dinner it is.
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31
my 30 gb iPod the garter from my senior prom a tiny golden cross that had faith & hope inscribed into it the base to my son's car seat & his monkey mirror my husband's suit jacket & seven years of my life written into various paper journals with colored covers these were all stolen in the first car I ever owned her name was Lydia *"She was the most glorious creature under the sun."* that comes from a Groucho Marx song if you didn't know my Papa used to sing it to me all the time anywho she was a 2000 Dodge Neon painted black two stickers on the back "COEXIST" and "SUPPORT THE ARTS KISS A MUSICIAN" I got her my first year of college from a man who's like a father to me we've been through many a busted radiator hose & flat tire last summer my husband was on his way to work when Lydia gave out on him so he left her at the side of K-15 and MacArthur in Wichita & told the cops not to tow her away 'cause he'd be back for her when he returned after his shift she was gone nowhere to be found a vanishing act of pure mental hell & unanswered questions to this day I miss her terribly.
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Mar 8, 2012
Mar 8, 2012 at 2:27 AM UTC
.the tattooed lady.
As I went about my day.....I thought about Dr. Seuss. How much I enjoyed his rhymes and his stories in my youth. The truth of the matter is this.....Sometimes I feel like the grinch and my heart doesn't measure above an inch. I feel sad ...mad and blue.....and when I feel I have been disrespected...my reply is " Who are you talking to?" I don't live in a zoo.....and never met a "who", but needed them to give me a clue? Aachoo! Bless you! Who me? yes you.....couldn't be. Then who? Anywho....I don't like to argue and fight .....my intentions are to do what's right. I write due to a love affair I have with words.....adjectives ....nouns and verbs. You may call it cheating....but its not that at all. I believe they're all beautiful ......and allow them to shine when I write about our time at the ball. How beautiful she was standing there unassuming in a dress that was red. I approached her from the rear of course and whispered in her ear about my horse parked outside. I was curious to know if she wanted to ride. Aside from her beauty her scent drove me crazy.....as it entered my system my nervous system became lazy. I could hardly concentrate on what I should do.....instead of level ten ....my mind was on level two. What should I do?.....my grinch like heart had gathered a spark. As words danced around in my mind....and massaged my hardened heart .......my anger was released to create a work of art. The feelings that were trapped inside were allowed free reign. The substance that they contained.....revealed a man who should have gone insane.....it's plain to me .....and why wouldn't it be?.....that suddenly my mind is free...... At least for the moment......I don't like green eggs and ham....but I do enjoy money in my hand. Yes! I do.....and if I gave you a few dollars ....I'm sure you would too. How much I enjoy when money is around....although she doesn't stay long. As soon as Bill comes along ......she suddenly is gone. My pockets become empty and my mood not so bright. I feel like a jilted lover.....whose been abandoned late at night. She never returns.....but I am able to hold her again......until Bill arrives and demands her attention again. I don't like him....he's always around like the first and fifteenth. **** Bill is what I often say.....I'm a little Suessed out ....forgive me for my rant if you can I say.....Have you seen Thing one and Thing two? I wonder if they can come out to play?
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Oct 7, 2012
Oct 7, 2012 at 12:06 PM UTC
UniSuessal Circus
As I went about my day.....I thought about Dr. Seuss. How much I enjoyed his rhymes and his stories in my youth. The truth of the matter is this.....Sometimes I feel like the grinch and my heart doesn't measure above an inch. I feel sad ...mad and blue.....and when I feel I have been disrespected...my reply is " Who are you talking to?" I don't live in a zoo.....and never met a "who", but needed them to give me a clue? Aachoo! Bless you! Who me? yes you.....couldn't be. Then who? Anywho....I don't like to argue and fight .....my intentions are to do what's right. I write due to a love affair I have with words.....adjectives ....nouns and verbs. You may call it cheating....but its not that at all. I believe they're all beautiful ......and allow them to shine when I write about our time at the ball. How beautiful she was standing there unassuming in a dress that was red. I approached her from the rear of course and whispered in her ear about my horse parked outside. I was curious to know if she wanted to ride. Aside from her beauty her scent drove me crazy.....as it entered my system my nervous system became lazy. I could hardly concentrate on what I should do.....instead of level ten ....my mind was on level two. What should I do?.....my grinch like heart had gathered a spark. As words danced around in my mind....and massaged my hardened heart .......my anger was released to create a work of art. The feelings that were trapped inside were allowed free reign. The substance that they contained.....revealed a man who should have gone insane.....it's plain to me .....and why wouldn't it be?.....that suddenly my mind is free...... At least for the moment......I don't like green eggs and ham....but I do enjoy money in my hand. Yes! I do.....and if I gave you a few dollars ....I'm sure you would too. How much I enjoy when money is around....although she doesn't stay long. As soon as Bill comes along ......she suddenly is gone. My pockets become empty and my mood not so bright. I feel like a jilted lover.....whose been abandoned late at night. She never returns.....but I am able to hold her again......until Bill arrives and demands her attention again. I don't like him....he's always around like the first and fifteenth. **** Bill is what I often say.....I'm a little Suessed out ....forgive me for my rant if you can I say.....Have you seen Thing one and Thing two? I wonder if they can come out to play?
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16
There's an old grave yard up on the hill near by I like to go there and sit and look at the tombstones that are so old you can't see the names on them Because I'm morbid I guess, I feel at home there Today I went there I took some of my little resin fairy folk and gnomes I've been strangely obsessed with those little resin, fake people as of late I made them a village With their very own cemetery and fake dead things The fairy princess is a ** Promiscuous princess is knocked up and doesn't know who the baby daddy is The ****** gnomes pass her around like a water **** at a party The fairy Prince is gay Anywho, I put them in a paper bag with my whiskey and went to hang with the dead for awhile I played pretend with them for awhile, the dead and the little people Then I drank till I started to remember how my life ***** And how alone I really am I burried my face in my skirt And cried
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Mar 8, 2017
Mar 8, 2017 at 1:16 PM UTC
Promiscuous Fairies And Cemeteries
Have you ever met someone so stupid you want to punch? I have, Everyday at lunch, I hear her crunch on her food from across the room, Then I hear Alexa's BOOM BOOM BOOM. This girl, you see, Is not like you or me, She is quite the ******* She doensn't even know how to work a compass. Anywho, I should be going, And stop loathing , On a ******* name Lauren Joyce.
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May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 8:56 PM UTC
Lauren.
“Oh hell yea, they’re suffering! They’re believing that they can go home, but aren’t getting any closer to the Entropoid Valley which leads to Kubla Khan, by whom they were cremated and born. Instead, they’re here, whiling away their days for boys who are bringing the death of days.” “Hold your thoughts, lad!” Yells the Cameraman of the Head. “I’m here, I’m in your head ImhereImhereImThere. You’ve no right to chastise the boys who have not kissed the horror. They’ve seen it, yes. But they haven’t captured it, you see. I am the camera, in my ribs are the film reels, the oscilloscope in my uvula, the trigger rested in my right earlobe. I tell you, there is strength in their brutality, I can bring you the tribal taste.” “Man, we was just talking about centrifugal farce.” “Centripetal.” “No, was it?” “Wasn’t it?” “Hey! I believe-“ “Can’t be” “Shan’t be” “Oh, whatever. Those bullets find their way to the ***** anyhow.” “Anywho.” “Hey, grab your Coca Cola, Clean. We’re ‘bout to miss the show. The cameraguy could record it if he wants.”
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Oct 21, 2018
Oct 21, 2018 at 12:18 PM UTC
Centrifugal Farce
take it further than blue jay blue jay sunshine on a gloomy day my goodness I'm a mess took my thoughts on a rip tide lawl ride tongue tied n' fried and I'm sighing sighs of silly songs over sickly sickles sicking dogs of love on rippling rainbows step aside, ego! i wanna see your shadow summer's soon anywho
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Mar 15, 2015
Mar 15, 2015 at 4:06 PM UTC
quite
Late night at the Bar, The neon sign said time to go, Funny, when I got there it was all Welcoming and overenthusiastic, Garish, like a parade of clowns With balloons that just got lost Loosed, to the winds.  I had a few— Too many and wrote a broke poem, All alone surrounded by the clank Of wood from a pole and clicks of levers As the glistening 'patrons' shimmied their Tithes to the used machines of ***** Pinned and the green tables pooled And the women, who desperately looked At only you, after you looked at them And the indifferent, tallish Barman, Who kept pouring smallish dreams In a shot glass.  I stumbled, swirled out And kissed the tar as was my want, Every newcomer slogging in Simply ran with not even noticing, As I laid on the ground, they knew That their time was soon coming. That's called simpatico, or is it Solidarity, maybe, whatever? Anywho, I dusted my self off And hightailed it back home Before the broad, my old lady, Jezebel, caught me on the sly. The 'Queen of Sheba' was already There— prostrated on our bed Waiting to nail me.  My only excuse, The muses— she wasn't buying, I said baby, 'I ain't tryin' to sell You no lie.  The words, they come And they go, like a train that never stops But you bestbe going, you best be jump in' On that steel Goliath and ride that son to the gates Of pearl and peace, them goldilock rays and then I said, Hush, my little 'rock-a-bye' lady, you shush now, My fresh night moon of lilly flower, we's gonna Make like nubile creatures, all naked and free, There ain't no clocks little darling, there's Just you an' me and all the rest of herstory,' She bought that line!
0
Nov 22, 2014
Nov 22, 2014 at 11:30 PM UTC
Beat Poem
Late night at the Bar, The neon sign said time to go, Funny, when I got there it was all Welcoming and overenthusiastic, Garish, like a parade of clowns With balloons that just got lost Loosed, to the winds.  I had a few— Too many and wrote a broke poem, All alone surrounded by the clank Of wood from a pole and clicks of levers As the glistening 'patrons' shimmied their Tithes to the used machines of ***** Pinned and the green tables pooled And the women, who desperately looked At only you, after you looked at them And the indifferent, tallish Barman, Who kept pouring smallish dreams In a shot glass.  I stumbled, swirled out And kissed the tar as was my want, Every newcomer slogging in Simply ran with not even noticing, As I laid on the ground, they knew That their time was soon coming. That's called simpatico, or is it Solidarity, maybe, whatever? Anywho, I dusted my self off And hightailed it back home Before the broad, my old lady, Jezebel, caught me on the sly. The 'Queen of Sheba' was already There— prostrated on our bed Waiting to nail me.  My only excuse, The muses— she wasn't buying, I said baby, 'I ain't tryin' to sell You no lie.  The words, they come And they go, like a train that never stops But you bestbe going, you best be jump in' On that steel Goliath and ride that son to the gates Of pearl and peace, them goldilock rays and then I said, Hush, my little 'rock-a-bye' lady, you shush now, My fresh night moon of lilly flower, we's gonna Make like nubile creatures, all naked and free, There ain't no clocks little darling, there's Just you an' me and all the rest of herstory,' She bought that line!
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45
Late night at the Bar, The neon sign said time to go, Funny, when I got there it was all Welcoming and overenthusiastic, Garish, like a parade of clowns With balloons that just got lost Loosed, to the winds.  I had a few— Too many and wrote a broke poem, All alone surrounded by the clank Of wood from a pole and clicks of levers As the glistening 'patrons' shimmied their Tithes to the used machines of ***** Pinned and the green tables pooled And the women, who desperately looked At only you, after you looked at them And the indifferent, tallish Barman, Who kept pouring smallish dreams In a shot glass.  I stumbled, swirled out And kissed the tar as was my want, Every newcomer slogging in Simply ran with not even noticing, As I laid on the ground, they knew That their time was soon coming. That's called simpatico, or is it Solidarity, maybe, whatever? Anywho, I dusted my self off And hightailed it back home Before the broad, my old lady, Jezebel, caught me on the sly. The 'Queen of Sheba' was already There— prostrated on our bed Waiting to nail me.  My only excuse, The muses— she wasn't buying, I said baby, 'I ain't tryin' to sell You no lie.  The words, they come And they go, like a train that never stops But you best be going, you best be jump in' On that steel Goliath and ride that son to the gates Of pearl and peace, them goldilock rays and then I said, Hush, my little 'rock-a-bye' lady, you shush now, My fresh night moon of Lilly flower, we's gonna Make like nubile creatures, all naked and free, There ain't no clocks little darling, there's Just you an' me and all the rest of herstory,' She bought that line!
0
Jan 1, 2015
Jan 1, 2015 at 5:26 PM UTC
Beat Poem
Late night at the Bar, The neon sign said time to go, Funny, when I got there it was all Welcoming and overenthusiastic, Garish, like a parade of clowns With balloons that just got lost Loosed, to the winds.  I had a few— Too many and wrote a broke poem, All alone surrounded by the clank Of wood from a pole and clicks of levers As the glistening 'patrons' shimmied their Tithes to the used machines of ***** Pinned and the green tables pooled And the women, who desperately looked At only you, after you looked at them And the indifferent, tallish Barman, Who kept pouring smallish dreams In a shot glass.  I stumbled, swirled out And kissed the tar as was my want, Every newcomer slogging in Simply ran with not even noticing, As I laid on the ground, they knew That their time was soon coming. That's called simpatico, or is it Solidarity, maybe, whatever? Anywho, I dusted my self off And hightailed it back home Before the broad, my old lady, Jezebel, caught me on the sly. The 'Queen of Sheba' was already There— prostrated on our bed Waiting to nail me.  My only excuse, The muses— she wasn't buying, I said baby, 'I ain't tryin' to sell You no lie.  The words, they come And they go, like a train that never stops But you best be going, you best be jump in' On that steel Goliath and ride that son to the gates Of pearl and peace, them goldilock rays and then I said, Hush, my little 'rock-a-bye' lady, you shush now, My fresh night moon of Lilly flower, we's gonna Make like nubile creatures, all naked and free, There ain't no clocks little darling, there's Just you an' me and all the rest of herstory,' She bought that line!
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45
Cyber Kids R Us! Your Facebook took over my Myspace.. I had to Tag you on my Tagged Place. Your so Tagged. I Googled you and was wide eyed to my surprise.. I found you world wide web styled. I found you had gleefully Twittered beautifully. I searched you on Instagram.   And like dang Peeps on your page going ham. And on Skype! Your tag line is so hype. So your on my laptop. Owwee Bop bop! I can even touch you on Imvu. So owee baby @Yahoo.. Let me stop Twittering this thing. Instagram @ Instagram strings. Its making me google eyed. Has my Facebook all hooked. You have places and video's I ain't even looked. It's like your my new Candy Crush game. I'm all lit by your social media fame. Yet I'm the Unheard girl lame. But I wanna dine in your Cafe or play on your Poker holdem staff. Being your follower is such fun. Add me to your Snapchat. I'd be so down with that. I am so here to Comment you've peeked such interest. Gosh I made you a collection in my Pinterest. But its a shame how I over looked your Youtube. I feel a bit ******* Anywho.. Your such a Gift I need ya to know. Long as we don't end up on Bill Cunningham show. we can stay surfing on this web thing anywhere we go. Oh I'm not a virus... Just a cyber Kids R Us... By selinasharday the HeavensRosepoet. aka Heavens.Ebony.Rose #H.E.R All rights reserved..S.A.M if you repost plz post with credits to Author. Me!
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Jun 13, 2018
Jun 13, 2018 at 9:36 AM UTC
Cyber Kids R Us!
Look at me, I swear I'm clean! Or atleast I do allude; To existing in a conform The terra o' delude In a ****** reform Or atleast living I mean Dance with me, I swear I jive to a tune of jubilee; Lowly as obscurity Repulsive swinging gypsies; Wriggle in obscenity Atleast i'm alive... with Pals once high on relations; We've lost our ties and inspiration Ignorantly unhumbled and blinded; A bitter temptation as the lime did Oh desire! You're sending such morse signals Oh desire! What have I done to you? Oh desire! Tell me the truth- nothing trivial Oh desire! Look what I've done to you... I tried to find an easy way; Can't say **** but I say it anyway All choked up on it anywho; High on me - Dried on you Oh desire! You make me cry Oh desire! We're both bad liars Oh desire! want to dye? Oh desire! Dance of fire! A man does love Desires' hips seer of this Ale axes hint
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Mar 27, 2014
Mar 27, 2014 at 12:02 PM UTC
Our Lying Eyes
Sometimes, I really don't feel connected to this reality. Every moment of this life, I feel disconnected and distant from everything and everyone. How do I stop feeling this way? How can I return to normal? I just want to be normal, loved, noticed. I don't think that anyone notices me. I feel ignored and overlooked. I guess a lot of other people feel the same way. I can't say that only I feel this way. It's a universal feeling. Everyone feels or has felt this way at some point in their lives. It's comforting to know that others feel abnormal sometimes. That you're not as much of a freak than you originally thought you were. Something about knowing that other people have the same feelings and emotions and passions as you do, or did, is sort of a relief. I wonder what your thoughts on this matter is. Since I can not see you or hear you, I could only assume that you would in some way agree with me. In the case that you do not agree, then I would love to find out what your opinions and thoughts are. You people facinate me terribly. From you random episodes of nervousness to your moments of passion and love, everthing you, and I, do is an amazing specticle. Just think about it. We are amazing specticles just floating in a sea of zero-gravity and clouds of star stuff. If that's not amazing then I don't know what is. The fact that we are here is amazing. The fact that we feel things is amazing. The fact that we are born for a purpose is extremely amazing. Life is a gift and a curse, though. It gives life and takes it away. Life comes in different forms: there's "Life", the day-to-day event that is personified, and then there is "life", the precious gift that is given to us by Life. This probably doesn't make any sense. I really and honestly have no clue what I'm going on about. If this makes any sense, then you are extremely logical and extremely special. Anywho, This is the first of many stupid entrees... m.k.j
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Mar 10, 2014
Mar 10, 2014 at 11:52 AM UTC
Journal Entry: 3-10-14
Sometimes, I really don't feel connected to this reality. Every moment of this life, I feel disconnected and distant from everything and everyone. How do I stop feeling this way? How can I return to normal? I just want to be normal, loved, noticed. I don't think that anyone notices me. I feel ignored and overlooked. I guess a lot of other people feel the same way. I can't say that only I feel this way. It's a universal feeling. Everyone feels or has felt this way at some point in their lives. It's comforting to know that others feel abnormal sometimes. That you're not as much of a freak than you originally thought you were. Something about knowing that other people have the same feelings and emotions and passions as you do, or did, is sort of a relief. I wonder what your thoughts on this matter is. Since I can not see you or hear you, I could only assume that you would in some way agree with me. In the case that you do not agree, then I would love to find out what your opinions and thoughts are. You people facinate me terribly. From you random episodes of nervousness to your moments of passion and love, everthing you, and I, do is an amazing specticle. Just think about it. We are amazing specticles just floating in a sea of zero-gravity and clouds of star stuff. If that's not amazing then I don't know what is. The fact that we are here is amazing. The fact that we feel things is amazing. The fact that we are born for a purpose is extremely amazing. Life is a gift and a curse, though. It gives life and takes it away. Life comes in different forms: there's "Life", the day-to-day event that is personified, and then there is "life", the precious gift that is given to us by Life. This probably doesn't make any sense. I really and honestly have no clue what I'm going on about. If this makes any sense, then you are extremely logical and extremely special. Anywho, This is the first of many stupid entrees... m.k.j
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8
I am older now, And we've been together For decades now, So I don't pretend To remember Our first kiss, now. Anyhow, It's sensations are still with me. That kiss was a sentence. Anywho, or, Anywhom, What's more important, Is... I don't foresee Our last Anytime soon.
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Apr 2, 2025
Apr 2, 2025 at 9:07 PM UTC
Our Last
I see the immoral convictions in front of me do I dear to believe them to be true to me? This false fantasy has to be inception of mine or ‘tis just a state of one’s mind to dine... Anywho, anyhow. Why does one condone, what is not true to whom we are to be the truth but falsely fantasy is also expected of thee. For we are fools of the school’s tools the system is rig of this tools from the schools to the fools; because we are merely but a rabbit, hiding from the snake's taste for bait. Weak and feeble we are! ‘Tis to be true for the youth and generations come to pass for we will stay the way ‘tis.
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May 26, 2015
May 26, 2015 at 5:05 PM UTC
Blending In
Whence I was younger Nine or ten of age I remember me and mine parents Travelling down to south Carolina ( Myrtle Beach) And on that elongated trip By car of course, I remembered the smell of the hillside's Whilst traveling inside Virginia, and west viginia As thou didst not knoweth (Beckley, west Virginia) is where grandpa's from (Mothers side), of course... Anywho, Whilst travelling I saw freedom Freedom men died for Slaved for Embraced for I could hear the gunshots And moonshine traces Left upon the wind wherein they were created That noise hast not faded... Not even slightly... The people were kind Invitingly... Southern souled kins... As we continue up and down the curly cue roads, The ones with no railways (Quite scary I must sayeth) We continue on into North Carolina... Whilst entering into the North of Carolina, It was a simple place Wasn't mine type of place to be honest ( more of a south Carolina guy, "the old feel") We past more charming upranged mountains As the mountains thou couldst tell We're boiled into the land By gods hot glued finger Many country roads and highways To break on in Here's the part though that awoketh me .. We came to a road a little past Charlotte The big city in the north of carolina.!!!! This course pavement Artery Was a hidden road One thou wouldst not want to travel alone at night There were trees on both sides Trees that looked as if they had cometh out of the (nightmare before Christmas movie,) As thou couldst feel the old pained( ******* subjugation) The deathly lane was just that ( deathly) moribund in all manner No houses No streetlights to guide thy way Not even creatures to scurry, If their was any They were moribund to Like the ghost slaves staring back at us I felt those bondaged men The Africans who hath been slain on those trees Plucked from their homeland Sent here too be whipped and bleed I saw no illumination Other than the moon (Full moon) To guideth ourn way.... As I felt the slaves running , Weaving in and out of those trees As if they were still running in fear Fear from their slavemasters We finally pushed on through that devilish appartional road Making it out alive It felt as if a nightmare As if forever I believeth it took two hours just to get out!!!!!! No lying there Of course I was nine or ten So thou doth not have to believeth me Though I canst forget the feeling of those slaves eyes glancing Crying out for help from me And trust me If I was there In that time All of those slaves Wouldst haveth been free Free from chains Free to roam Free to come and go And go to Myrtle Beach With me and mine family !!!
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Jun 18, 2015
Jun 18, 2015 at 6:41 AM UTC
Slave road( North Carolina)
Whence I was younger Nine or ten of age I remember me and mine parents Travelling down to south Carolina ( Myrtle Beach) And on that elongated trip By car of course, I remembered the smell of the hillside's Whilst traveling inside Virginia, and west viginia As thou didst not knoweth (Beckley, west Virginia) is where grandpa's from (Mothers side), of course... Anywho, Whilst travelling I saw freedom Freedom men died for Slaved for Embraced for I could hear the gunshots And moonshine traces Left upon the wind wherein they were created That noise hast not faded... Not even slightly... The people were kind Invitingly... Southern souled kins... As we continue up and down the curly cue roads, The ones with no railways (Quite scary I must sayeth) We continue on into North Carolina... Whilst entering into the North of Carolina, It was a simple place Wasn't mine type of place to be honest ( more of a south Carolina guy, "the old feel") We past more charming upranged mountains As the mountains thou couldst tell We're boiled into the land By gods hot glued finger Many country roads and highways To break on in Here's the part though that awoketh me .. We came to a road a little past Charlotte The big city in the north of carolina.!!!! This course pavement Artery Was a hidden road One thou wouldst not want to travel alone at night There were trees on both sides Trees that looked as if they had cometh out of the (nightmare before Christmas movie,) As thou couldst feel the old pained( ******* subjugation) The deathly lane was just that ( deathly) moribund in all manner No houses No streetlights to guide thy way Not even creatures to scurry, If their was any They were moribund to Like the ghost slaves staring back at us I felt those bondaged men The Africans who hath been slain on those trees Plucked from their homeland Sent here too be whipped and bleed I saw no illumination Other than the moon (Full moon) To guideth ourn way.... As I felt the slaves running , Weaving in and out of those trees As if they were still running in fear Fear from their slavemasters We finally pushed on through that devilish appartional road Making it out alive It felt as if a nightmare As if forever I believeth it took two hours just to get out!!!!!! No lying there Of course I was nine or ten So thou doth not have to believeth me Though I canst forget the feeling of those slaves eyes glancing Crying out for help from me And trust me If I was there In that time All of those slaves Wouldst haveth been free Free from chains Free to roam Free to come and go And go to Myrtle Beach With me and mine family !!!
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I'll only tell you this cause very soon I'll be asleep and I'll forget I ever made this for you but anywho: I've always found people like you throughout life and they've always had the same damning effect on me. They make me feel like I have a reason to walk this earth to be alive other than just to breathe part of that joy and that's all I've ever sought to be honest I've never cared for anything else before or after that one goal and I've always found that no matter what I do after I leave that person they seem to have been tainted by me, so flee I might be sweet but you'll find someone someday so much better who'll reduce me to nothing in comparison but for now you should keep a distance between us because I am not like you, I doubt I ever will be and as such if you don't keep your distance I'll ***** you out and leave you feeling like I do I'll leave you feeling like nothing, good night
0
Sep 17, 2012
Sep 17, 2012 at 4:36 AM UTC
To a dear old friend, these words came to me too late
Give up waiting, doofus. It's so much easier when you don't give a hoot and nothing's happening anywho. (sonnet #MMMMMMCCCCLXVI) I've been reciting for--was that--intents? How lo, my cousins' kids are in betrayl Nigh grown, who were so little on that scale Ten years agone, when I last for good sense Saw these, or pictures of the same to fence Some fam'ly shindig with all to avail Whatever, me an old maid yet sans bail, Til hopes look quite askance without defense. Joe is attractive ah, beyond as twere The dreams I've known, a dream anon come true. If only now we could be all we stir, Have children of our own, lo that would do. Well, be together in yes, love, endure To death thus, and have kids: what's I love you? 01Jul17b
0
Jul 12, 2017
Jul 12, 2017 at 8:03 PM UTC
O Please, Please, How Much Longer?
Yes, I can smell the gunpowder all right. And sure, I can hear the 'pom' 'pom' in the distance of the bombs bursting in air and whatnot. But I'm not seeing the red glare itself. From every angle, I'm not getting any of the rainbow foofaraws as was advertised. Instead, it's just me and the dog here. I'm just dizzy with conflicting ideas of what being 'here' means. Anyways, I'm too busy, tired and dispossessed of my patriotism to really give a rah-rah anywho. I guess you can keep the fireworks.
0
Jul 21, 2019
Jul 21, 2019 at 1:56 AM UTC
The 4th
Lived in a homeless shelter once - made me go to AA. I wonder about the success rate of enforced sobriety - probably as ****** as it sounds if the universe makes any kind of sense at all - Anywho - I played it off, polite, smile, repeat after me - 'Hi, my name is Anna, I'm an Alcoholic (Drug Addict if it's NA). Always passed on story time though, 'I'm just gonna listen today' I'd say. Not because I didn't have a story though, but because my truth had to be worth more than just a signature on a sign - off sheet, even if only to myself. Nothings free, not even for the Signers.
0
Jun 3, 2015
Jun 3, 2015 at 2:34 AM UTC
Untitled
Well, hello there. I won't be here long. Just wished to greet old friends. Figured while I was about I could slightly lessen My overabundance of words. Lately they seem to trip, Sometimes stumble over each other. My mind still screams, But it is subdued. My scars are still there, But they have faded somewhat. I do miss you all, Playing games of words. Tossing similes across the way, Almost like playing literary dodge ball. Anywho, I wish you all the best, Of pain I wish you less. ~The Silvertongue~
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Oct 31, 2017
Oct 31, 2017 at 8:37 AM UTC
Stopping By
Some days ago I realized I'm only getting older So I tried to be bolder, shake the whole world off my shoulders My failure has only made me colder The fire inside, unfed and dying I can't keep track of all the times I tried to hold her memory Tried to forget all the lies I told her, silly And all the lies told to me I let them roll over Like Sisyphus and his boulder, forever crushing my four leaf clover Deceit bred a hate I held dearly A fear grew from what I'd see if I ever saw clearly I drink what I drank and deny insanity Still hoping for the change to spawn from monotony To be continued, I'll see you when I see you Today tonight tomorrow, next year, anywho I'll still be a fool and you'll still be a queen A jester in your court till the fat lady sings
0
Feb 22, 2017
Feb 22, 2017 at 9:29 PM UTC
Monotony
We need to have a conversation, you and I But you are not permitted to speak For I am loudest and most damaged You owe me this, for I am weak It is not your turn to be heard this time Do not refute or I grow louder I am small, broken, and disenfranchised And I could not be prouder So this conversation we shall have today For the times say it is required I know all, because I've been there And frankly, I'm very tired So let's share some information, you and I But only I -- not to berate you Anywho, I need to be going now I haven't time to educate you
0
Dec 2, 2016
Dec 2, 2016 at 7:29 AM UTC
The Conversation
Congratulations to the girl who’s finally taking time to go and see a guy. I hope he is sublime and that everything for you goes just fine because after all it’s not my concerns, you ain’t even mine. Anywho I’m back to the world with words unspoken, ideals and values hurled into conversation and bring it all up again. ******* forget locking myself in the den because my egos inflated my mind and soul’s separated I’m prepared for the future no longer dwelling over a stupid creature Reality ******** me because **** it, awesome is what I’ll be now people tell me I’m in over my head but **** it, I’m me and that’s all that’s needed to be said. Selling the sadness away and swapping it for my pride because the old me has died and now the worlds meeting with the new soul supplied. I still congratulate you none the less and wish that everything goes bless and now of to my holidays I go to escape the past and feel a new soul flow. Admit being stupid over imagination got me being dumb like I needed consolidation, well **** it I’m to cool to fall for this desperation and now like I said I’m of to my new destination.
0
Feb 10, 2016
Feb 10, 2016 at 1:00 AM UTC
2013-2014