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"aubrey" poems
Shannon, Mariah, Serena, Maria Meridia, Midian, Sharon, Alliah Rochelle, Camille, Rose, Halo Trenna, Jessica, Ashley, Georgia Marla, Olivia, Sofia, India Daniella, Diana, Christina, Caroline Isabella, Amelia, Amanda, Matilda Nadine, Haley, Bailey, Francine Eliza, Annabelle, Kathryn, Sandra Melinda, Audrey, Aubrey, Emily Tara, Emma, Ginny, Kathleen Josephine, Helena, Charlotte, Laura Chelsea, Arkady, Megan, Kelsey Kayla, Karliah, Moana, Vivien Kaysea, Macy, Stacy, Lorraine Theresa, Felicia, Cecilia, Darlene Holly, Brianna, Alexa, Ariel Marianne, Miranda, Jennie, Coral Korra, Daisy, Penelope, Rayne Zoey, Cassandra, Grace, Stephanie
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Jul 27, 2013
Jul 27, 2013 at 12:34 AM UTC
Chromosome
Take me back to a different hotel every night and living out of a suitcase. Getting comfortable in our naked bodies around each other; comparing breast size and stretch marks—examining ourselves like the men who’ve carelessly fondled us before for our likes and dislikes. Sharing a bottle of lukewarm tequila in the world’s smallest bathtub and then I sing you to sleep. Highway cars buzzing past and there’s only one road to get lost on, but we manage it every single time. Your car becomes a dressing room at gas stations where people stare with disapproving glares and worry for the safety of their wallets; because we don’t belong here but we laugh—still drunk from the early morning hours and just trying to find the next check-in spot for the night. There never is a real destination but home always seems too close and we both hate that part. It doesn’t feel right when it ends or when I have to crawl back into my own bed without a time frame to be out by in the morning—before the housekeeping maid comes banging on our door, yet again.
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Dec 12, 2020
Dec 12, 2020 at 1:06 AM UTC
For Aubrey
They come on to my clean sheet of paper and leave a Rorschach blot. They do not do this to be mean, they do it to give me a sign they want me, as Aubrey Beardsley once said, to shove it around till something comes. Clumsy as I am, I do it. For I am like them - both saved and lost, tumbling downward like Humpty Dumpty off the alphabet. Each morning I push them off my bed and when they get in the salad rolling in it like a dog, I pick each one out just the way my daughter picks out the anchoives. In May they dance on the jonquils, wearing out their toes, laughing like fish. In November, the dread month, they **** the childhood out of the berries and turn them sour and inedible. Yet they keep me company. They wiggle up life. They pass out their magic like Assorted Lifesavers. They go with me to the dentist and protect me form the drill. At the same time, they go to class with me and lie to my students. O fallen angel, the companion within me, whisper something holy before you pinch me into the grave.
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3.9k
The Fallen Angels
flower child. so soft spoken and sweet.             you are my hippy sister. fashionista you set trends.          I love your vibe. so calm and carefree. with a creative mind and unique soul                         you are art. I can imagine you with a                               big curly fro. paint cans, brushes and canvases                cluttering your NewYork flat as sounds of Lana del Rey and Jhene Aiko               fill your apartment and posters of Aubrey Graham grace your walls           ten years from now. O.Rob.
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Nov 8, 2013
Nov 8, 2013 at 4:18 PM UTC
poems for friends series; nini
can I replace the new with old and call it new, or is that false representation? will you sue me if I throw in a few past words and sell them to you as newer and better, more reliable, even though they might not be? what about if I offer to steal a few glances to keep your thoughts scrambling for more? can I seal a few letters with my Amsterdam red lipstick, to prove that there isn't a word I wrote to you that didn't come straight from my mouth, even though a few, ok all of them probably didn't? after all, it is real, right? -Julia Aubrey Rhodes-
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Jan 15, 2016
Jan 15, 2016 at 8:17 PM UTC
"A Fake Love"
Aubrey was confronted by her mom in the kitchen as she was making her lunch for school the next day. "Two sandwiches?" her mom questioned. "What's up with that, Aubrey? Since when do you eat more than one sandwich?" Actually Aubrey ate well. It was always a healthy lunch for her, perhaps a sandwich with some lettuce and tomato on it, or something cooked and leftover. She rarely indulged in sweet snacks, like her brother and sister did, never going without a couple pieces of fruit in her bag. Audrey was a freshman in high school, and she was a forthright girl. There was no need to hide anything, so she replied nonchalantly, "It's not for me. It is for Wade Hodak. He doesn't have a sandwich in his lunch". With her hands on her hips, Audrey's mom smelled something fishy. Was Wade taking advantage of her? She replied, "And why not? Since when is it up to you to look after him?" "Mom!" Aubrey protested. "He is lucky his mom even gets any child support from his dad! Her paycheck doesn't come til the end of the week. Sometimes, he eats okay, but sometimes they just don't have the money! You know how it is with bills and stuff! It is usually just a bag of chips and whatever else he can find" Aubrey's mom only vaguely knew of Wade Hodak. What little she knew of his mother, his mom seemed on the up-and-up. She remembered that the woman had to pull her daughter out of dance class because she couldn't afford it, the same class her younger daughter was in. Aubrey's mom smiled and gave her a kiss and a hug, "Peanut butter and jelly?" Well, don't lay it on too thin.", she advised. Aubrey smiled big, a sweet smile with those braces on her teeth, and she was becoming a beautiful, young woman, both inside and out. "That's what I was hoping you would say", Aubrey said and added, gratefully. "Thanks mom". Peanut butter and jelly it was.
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Mar 16, 2017
Mar 16, 2017 at 8:28 PM UTC
He Doesn't Have A Sandwich (flash story)
Aubrey was confronted by her mom in the kitchen as she was making her lunch for school the next day. "Two sandwiches?" her mom questioned. "What's up with that, Aubrey? Since when do you eat more than one sandwich?" Actually Aubrey ate well. It was always a healthy lunch for her, perhaps a sandwich with some lettuce and tomato on it, or something cooked and leftover. She rarely indulged in sweet snacks, like her brother and sister did, never going without a couple pieces of fruit in her bag. Audrey was a freshman in high school, and she was a forthright girl. There was no need to hide anything, so she replied nonchalantly, "It's not for me. It is for Wade Hodak. He doesn't have a sandwich in his lunch". With her hands on her hips, Audrey's mom smelled something fishy. Was Wade taking advantage of her? She replied, "And why not? Since when is it up to you to look after him?" "Mom!" Aubrey protested. "He is lucky his mom even gets any child support from his dad! Her paycheck doesn't come til the end of the week. Sometimes, he eats okay, but sometimes they just don't have the money! You know how it is with bills and stuff! It is usually just a bag of chips and whatever else he can find" Aubrey's mom only vaguely knew of Wade Hodak. What little she knew of his mother, his mom seemed on the up-and-up. She remembered that the woman had to pull her daughter out of dance class because she couldn't afford it, the same class her younger daughter was in. Aubrey's mom smiled and gave her a kiss and a hug, "Peanut butter and jelly?" Well, don't lay it on too thin.", she advised. Aubrey smiled big, a sweet smile with those braces on her teeth, and she was becoming a beautiful, young woman, both inside and out. "That's what I was hoping you would say", Aubrey said and added, gratefully. "Thanks mom". Peanut butter and jelly it was.
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7
Aubrey took in the dame in the red dress, her hams moving under the tight cloth, her ringed fingers showing as she moved her hands, the pointed dugs like small noses pressed against the redness. He took in her hair, noticed the colour, the waves, the   highlights. He sipped coffee. Cappuccino, white froth on his upper lip, wiped off with the back of his hand. She stood window shopping; stood moving her legs, her hams in **** motion still. He leaned back. He eased against the chair. She had stooped forward. Her eyes price gauging, hands behind her back, holding a hand bag, rings showing. He settled on her neckline. A necklace, silver, a cross without a Christ. She turned and gazed up the shopping mall. She sighed. He watched. Sipped coffee. The waitress who brought it walked with a wiggle. Tiny backside, tight, she thin as if some Modigliani dame. She walked by holding an empty tray. Wiggled, head level. The dame in the red dress turned and faced him. Their eyes met; green on brown; hers on his. She looked away taking nothing of him. He drank in her eyes and mouth; lingered in his darkroom mind. He sipped again. She folded her arms, handbag hanging, eyeing her small gold watch. Aubrey took in her legs, the hairlessness, the silk smooth suntanned legs. Younger he may have drooled; now he just gazed and gazed. She looked up the long mall. He sat up and downed his coffee. Her Romeo, if such, arrived. They embraced; he swung her around. Excitement, bright eyes, smiles. They walked off. Aubrey watched her go, not unhappy or ill, he'd had his sight and had his fill.
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Aug 8, 2013
Aug 8, 2013 at 10:10 AM UTC
DAME IN THE RED DRESS.
Aubrey took in the dame in the red dress, her hams moving under the tight cloth, her ringed fingers showing as she moved her hands, the pointed dugs like small noses pressed against the redness. He took in her hair, noticed the colour, the waves, the   highlights. He sipped coffee. Cappuccino, white froth on his upper lip, wiped off with the back of his hand. She stood window shopping; stood moving her legs, her hams in **** motion still. He leaned back. He eased against the chair. She had stooped forward. Her eyes price gauging, hands behind her back, holding a hand bag, rings showing. He settled on her neckline. A necklace, silver, a cross without a Christ. She turned and gazed up the shopping mall. She sighed. He watched. Sipped coffee. The waitress who brought it walked with a wiggle. Tiny backside, tight, she thin as if some Modigliani dame. She walked by holding an empty tray. Wiggled, head level. The dame in the red dress turned and faced him. Their eyes met; green on brown; hers on his. She looked away taking nothing of him. He drank in her eyes and mouth; lingered in his darkroom mind. He sipped again. She folded her arms, handbag hanging, eyeing her small gold watch. Aubrey took in her legs, the hairlessness, the silk smooth suntanned legs. Younger he may have drooled; now he just gazed and gazed. She looked up the long mall. He sat up and downed his coffee. Her Romeo, if such, arrived. They embraced; he swung her around. Excitement, bright eyes, smiles. They walked off. Aubrey watched her go, not unhappy or ill, he'd had his sight and had his fill.
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60
*they are my famiglia they are italian, polish and maltese, probably a lot of other things too we're basically mutts there are five of us, if you include the dog they are the best there's my mom; i call her "ma" or "woman" or "mom" or "mama" or "rochelle", if i want to irritate her she's the best cook in the world she always calls me her "bambina" and sings me songs and writes me cute notes she's my best friend and biggest fan (sorry dad) i'm convinced she can read my mind, even when i'm 2 1/2 hours away, she can tell when something's wrong she's the best mom in the world and then, there's my dad; i call him "dad" or "daddy" or "bob" because he doesn't seem to care he's hilarious and actually tells good dad jokes he loves talking about government conspiracies and new health trends he's trying he calls my mom just to say "i love you" and buys me flowers on valentine's day because "i want you to know what a man should do for you one day" he's so great, i hope i marry a man like bob one day and there's my brother; i call him "bro" or "broski" or usually just, "bobby" he loves me with all his heart but cannot hug me because his ocd clouds his mind he's funny and loves the oldies he also loves trips to chipotle with me he won't tell me about girls because "you'll tell mom," but will talk to me about everything else gosh i love him with all my heart too and there's my dog; who we all call "boo" and sometimes i call him some random nickname he's so cute, but super vicious one minute he'll be curled up in-between your legs and the next? he's attacking you and biting you in the lip he's scared of thunderstorms and fireworks and people, really he's scared of everything he's not perfect, but he loves me and i love him and then, there's me; they call me "dee-dee" or "aubs" or plain old, "aubrey" i'm the first born pain in the **** who's dream is to marry a nice christian man, own a cafe, adopt children, have children, and just have a great family currently, i'm in college, missing my great family my current dream would be, sitting on the couch with my dog on my lap, my mom cooking in the kitchen, my dad hanging out in the garage building something cool, and my brother playing video games and complaining about me taking over the bathroom we share. can you tell i miss them? can you tell i love them?*
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Apr 6, 2017
Apr 6, 2017 at 2:51 PM UTC
untitled-04/06/17
*they are my famiglia they are italian, polish and maltese, probably a lot of other things too we're basically mutts there are five of us, if you include the dog they are the best there's my mom; i call her "ma" or "woman" or "mom" or "mama" or "rochelle", if i want to irritate her she's the best cook in the world she always calls me her "bambina" and sings me songs and writes me cute notes she's my best friend and biggest fan (sorry dad) i'm convinced she can read my mind, even when i'm 2 1/2 hours away, she can tell when something's wrong she's the best mom in the world and then, there's my dad; i call him "dad" or "daddy" or "bob" because he doesn't seem to care he's hilarious and actually tells good dad jokes he loves talking about government conspiracies and new health trends he's trying he calls my mom just to say "i love you" and buys me flowers on valentine's day because "i want you to know what a man should do for you one day" he's so great, i hope i marry a man like bob one day and there's my brother; i call him "bro" or "broski" or usually just, "bobby" he loves me with all his heart but cannot hug me because his ocd clouds his mind he's funny and loves the oldies he also loves trips to chipotle with me he won't tell me about girls because "you'll tell mom," but will talk to me about everything else gosh i love him with all my heart too and there's my dog; who we all call "boo" and sometimes i call him some random nickname he's so cute, but super vicious one minute he'll be curled up in-between your legs and the next? he's attacking you and biting you in the lip he's scared of thunderstorms and fireworks and people, really he's scared of everything he's not perfect, but he loves me and i love him and then, there's me; they call me "dee-dee" or "aubs" or plain old, "aubrey" i'm the first born pain in the **** who's dream is to marry a nice christian man, own a cafe, adopt children, have children, and just have a great family currently, i'm in college, missing my great family my current dream would be, sitting on the couch with my dog on my lap, my mom cooking in the kitchen, my dad hanging out in the garage building something cool, and my brother playing video games and complaining about me taking over the bathroom we share. can you tell i miss them? can you tell i love them?*
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48
I remember I was scared to death the first time I had a girl alone with me I remember thinking do I just pull it out and present it Or do I wait for her to ask to see it or do I just sit here and talk untill she says "are we gonna do this" Or do I go "are we gonna do this" instead we watched like 2 hours of random tv, talked, I showed my Tattoos she Showed me ones that she will be getting someday on her body. And then it Happened the sign The flip of the hair The little Flutter of the eyes I knew I had to make my move So I said "I've been looking at you since I first saw you and wondered what'd be like to kiss you" she says "well are you gonna keep wondering or do it" We begin to make out in the back of my head im praying she doesnt start using tounge because im horrible at french kissing. Luckily it didn't happen As I begin to rub her back I unsnap her braw with one hand which I never did before that. The shirt came off smoothly and I looked at a set of amazing little perky ******* I tasted her flesh surrounding this tender area and took my shirt off revealing my skrany tatted up body. She began to push down on me and soon as  was on my back and she was Hovered over me. I remember thinking to myself THIS IS AWESOME. just as she thought she was in controll I flipped her over brushed my hands down her hips. AND IT HAPPENED the moment you know your getting laid (my brother told me this before) The slight arch of her back just enough for me to remove her pants in a swift motion. The rest is history or should I say Herstory. I remember the next day going to school and later on seeing her at parties and eventually I never seen her again somehow or another she just vanished to this day I dont Know where she is but **** can I remember everything about that night her outfit down to her ear rings what song I had playing (Tupac How do You Want It) the nervous tick  I do with my thumb nails clicking them haha. she asked me if This was my first time ( I replied yes) She told me that I was her first also (not like first) but first time actaully being made love too. she said I knew exactly what to do and that she never had a man actaully take his time with her. I brushed her hair back and whispered in her ear ( in all the seas and all the lakes I found  mermaid by mistake) my little way of saying she was speacil. I've never found another mermaid is what im getting at and honestly after all the girls past present a future I'll never have another night like that so if your out there Aubrey this writings for you
0
Feb 5, 2013
Feb 5, 2013 at 12:51 AM UTC
For Aubrey
I remember I was scared to death the first time I had a girl alone with me I remember thinking do I just pull it out and present it Or do I wait for her to ask to see it or do I just sit here and talk untill she says "are we gonna do this" Or do I go "are we gonna do this" instead we watched like 2 hours of random tv, talked, I showed my Tattoos she Showed me ones that she will be getting someday on her body. And then it Happened the sign The flip of the hair The little Flutter of the eyes I knew I had to make my move So I said "I've been looking at you since I first saw you and wondered what'd be like to kiss you" she says "well are you gonna keep wondering or do it" We begin to make out in the back of my head im praying she doesnt start using tounge because im horrible at french kissing. Luckily it didn't happen As I begin to rub her back I unsnap her braw with one hand which I never did before that. The shirt came off smoothly and I looked at a set of amazing little perky ******* I tasted her flesh surrounding this tender area and took my shirt off revealing my skrany tatted up body. She began to push down on me and soon as  was on my back and she was Hovered over me. I remember thinking to myself THIS IS AWESOME. just as she thought she was in controll I flipped her over brushed my hands down her hips. AND IT HAPPENED the moment you know your getting laid (my brother told me this before) The slight arch of her back just enough for me to remove her pants in a swift motion. The rest is history or should I say Herstory. I remember the next day going to school and later on seeing her at parties and eventually I never seen her again somehow or another she just vanished to this day I dont Know where she is but **** can I remember everything about that night her outfit down to her ear rings what song I had playing (Tupac How do You Want It) the nervous tick  I do with my thumb nails clicking them haha. she asked me if This was my first time ( I replied yes) She told me that I was her first also (not like first) but first time actaully being made love too. she said I knew exactly what to do and that she never had a man actaully take his time with her. I brushed her hair back and whispered in her ear ( in all the seas and all the lakes I found  mermaid by mistake) my little way of saying she was speacil. I've never found another mermaid is what im getting at and honestly after all the girls past present a future I'll never have another night like that so if your out there Aubrey this writings for you
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52
This is more permanent. Something like a debt from past lovers or a memory that keeps repeating itself reminiscing hysteria. *esto ya huele a flor dulce recién salido de la lengua de un nopal. No mas no me vallas a olvidar* I remember passing lonely nights at the city fair Dreaming of a friend who would expand my mind pass the cliche television shows and the cliche talks thought of only by the cliche, regular people who have nothing exciting to say 'cept how their grandma got ran over by a reindeer. Now here came a girl who dm'ed me I like your tweets. And I had nothing great in mind The only thing I thought of was, "hey I like to write" She got excited and from there on I wasn't lonely Every day and night a new conversation sprung. Some repeating old stories of depression, Sylvia Plath, and the Beat Generation. Some stuff like "Yo I dig Aubrey Plaza" And most of all me genuinely telling her how beautiful she is, how she makes me smile, how I thank God she walked into my life at the most perfect time. Speaking 'bout God. I pray He never takes her away from my life. I hope he fulfills everything she wants in her life, 'Cause she has power soaring from her inner beauty. Success pours out from her being. There is nothing in the world that could stop this girl. You know how they say, "The world is yours?" No better phrase hits right right now but that exact one. The world is yours Nezly *esto ya huele a flor dulce recién salido de la lengua de un nopal. Nezly, tu nunca me vas a fallar*
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Nov 15, 2013
Nov 15, 2013 at 11:26 PM UTC
This line is for Nezly: written in pen this time.
This is more permanent. Something like a debt from past lovers or a memory that keeps repeating itself reminiscing hysteria. *esto ya huele a flor dulce recién salido de la lengua de un nopal. No mas no me vallas a olvidar* I remember passing lonely nights at the city fair Dreaming of a friend who would expand my mind pass the cliche television shows and the cliche talks thought of only by the cliche, regular people who have nothing exciting to say 'cept how their grandma got ran over by a reindeer. Now here came a girl who dm'ed me I like your tweets. And I had nothing great in mind The only thing I thought of was, "hey I like to write" She got excited and from there on I wasn't lonely Every day and night a new conversation sprung. Some repeating old stories of depression, Sylvia Plath, and the Beat Generation. Some stuff like "Yo I dig Aubrey Plaza" And most of all me genuinely telling her how beautiful she is, how she makes me smile, how I thank God she walked into my life at the most perfect time. Speaking 'bout God. I pray He never takes her away from my life. I hope he fulfills everything she wants in her life, 'Cause she has power soaring from her inner beauty. Success pours out from her being. There is nothing in the world that could stop this girl. You know how they say, "The world is yours?" No better phrase hits right right now but that exact one. The world is yours Nezly *esto ya huele a flor dulce recién salido de la lengua de un nopal. Nezly, tu nunca me vas a fallar*
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28
is it the ever flowing images that keep me "going", that keep me "from moving"? quite confusing, in both ways. in some ways they allow the blood in my veins to rush to my cheeks when I chose, even sometimes by surprise, but in others, I can barely fathom a moment without them, the memories. if I were to be living without the images of you, I suppose I would begin to visit you in dream; like someone I have never met but would like to. you are a dream in all honestly...at least now you are. there is a nauseating rush now, like a cracked mosaic, like a weak cherry tree in the late fall, like an yelled secret in outer space; and all I suppose is real, are the words I say in my sleep, the longing I remember when I wake, the pain I feel later in the day when I try and remember every arrangement of letters than passed my lips, your fruit punch stained ones. a third is good, a third is bad, and the other third is neutral... stuck in the middle, consuming both the good and the bad, blending in camouflage. I cannot tell which is which. -Julia Aubrey Rhodes-
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Dec 26, 2015
Dec 26, 2015 at 12:43 AM UTC
"What's Bad is Good and What's Good is Bad."
Stay put Owner occupiers  are now envied corners of smudged wealth, suburbian renters isotope brandish new England more the continental model. In derelict public houses inside weightless Box Rooms every blade of concrete counts. I shall play in once Lavender fields and usher questions. How many times do we render our knowledge? ghost town forms are in submission, again recession chimes more than a lack of opportunities, but who are these  newcomers arriving en masse to once bespoke areas with money earned from former unfashionable abodes ?
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Nov 20, 2012
Nov 20, 2012 at 6:35 PM UTC
It's Not Aubrey
We would meet most Sunday mornings, always before 10 o'clock, when the dew from the night before was still blanketing the grass and the birds were still sleeping silently, the trees cracking as they awakened from their slumber and fog still hanging above the air like a burden. We would meet outside of the public house, a sign of green metal with gold lettering hung just outside the door, welcoming cyclists and families; advertising their beautiful beer garden which we would often traipse through, admiring the rose bush that the landlady planted some years ago, and sometimes stopping to run our hands through the water of the water feature which stood proudly in the corner. Brick dust would hang about the air, as we perched our bodies against the structure of the decaying wall outside the pub, holding onto each other with our faces pressed incredibly close together, your hands in my back pockets and my lips pressed firmly to yours. We'd often walk hand in hand, passing dog walkers and old couples, who would smile and say 'good morning' to us before passing on their way, and you'd always be so polite to them, and offer them smokes. You took me to a bench by Aubrey Pond one time; and you sat with me, taking my hand in your own and pressing your mouth to my cheek, "darling there is something I must tell you" you muttered and for a moment my heart froze and my brow furrowed "I leave tomorrow evening," you paused. "I won't be back." - It is only now, that six full months have passed, that I have stopped to notice the dew on the grass, and the silence of the birds and the cracking of the trees. I no longer read the gold lettering of the metal sign that hangs precariously just outside of the pub door, advertising its awfully kept garden, and rose bushes planted by a mad old woman, who paid a small fortune for a badly placed water feature. I no longer invite strangers to converse with me, and I most certainly do not acknowlegde their kind words, and I refuse to give them smokes. The couples will sneer at me abnoxiously and they will be shoved on their way, as I stare bleakly at the ground on which I walk upon, and scuff my feet against the ***** path of the frightening woodland. You took me to Aubrey Pond one time; and you sat with me, taking my hand in your own and pressing your mouth to your cheek. And I never saw you again.
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Jun 25, 2013
Jun 25, 2013 at 2:50 PM UTC
Sunday
We would meet most Sunday mornings, always before 10 o'clock, when the dew from the night before was still blanketing the grass and the birds were still sleeping silently, the trees cracking as they awakened from their slumber and fog still hanging above the air like a burden. We would meet outside of the public house, a sign of green metal with gold lettering hung just outside the door, welcoming cyclists and families; advertising their beautiful beer garden which we would often traipse through, admiring the rose bush that the landlady planted some years ago, and sometimes stopping to run our hands through the water of the water feature which stood proudly in the corner. Brick dust would hang about the air, as we perched our bodies against the structure of the decaying wall outside the pub, holding onto each other with our faces pressed incredibly close together, your hands in my back pockets and my lips pressed firmly to yours. We'd often walk hand in hand, passing dog walkers and old couples, who would smile and say 'good morning' to us before passing on their way, and you'd always be so polite to them, and offer them smokes. You took me to a bench by Aubrey Pond one time; and you sat with me, taking my hand in your own and pressing your mouth to my cheek, "darling there is something I must tell you" you muttered and for a moment my heart froze and my brow furrowed "I leave tomorrow evening," you paused. "I won't be back." - It is only now, that six full months have passed, that I have stopped to notice the dew on the grass, and the silence of the birds and the cracking of the trees. I no longer read the gold lettering of the metal sign that hangs precariously just outside of the pub door, advertising its awfully kept garden, and rose bushes planted by a mad old woman, who paid a small fortune for a badly placed water feature. I no longer invite strangers to converse with me, and I most certainly do not acknowlegde their kind words, and I refuse to give them smokes. The couples will sneer at me abnoxiously and they will be shoved on their way, as I stare bleakly at the ground on which I walk upon, and scuff my feet against the ***** path of the frightening woodland. You took me to Aubrey Pond one time; and you sat with me, taking my hand in your own and pressing your mouth to your cheek. And I never saw you again.
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54
He is beautiful and poetic. Sensitive and creative. I bet if he hugged me I'd feel secure Perfect. So perfect that I'm afraid I'm not worth it. I wish he knew.
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Nov 30, 2015
Nov 30, 2015 at 7:59 PM UTC
Aubrey Graham
Fashion Week is coming to Brew City Thursday through Saturday, with 24 designers showcasing fashions ranging from athleisure to bridal and evening wear. “Fashion is more than L.A. or New York,” said Deborah Reimer, the event’s primary organizer. “We’re not just about beer and cheese. Milwaukee has a lot of talent and the fashion industry is growing, and it is time that it gets seen in the public eye.” Nightly fashion shows will feature eight designers each. About half of the designers are new to Milwaukee Fashion Week, while the rest are returning from the 2015 show. The designers range in experience, with students from Mount Mary and the Art Institute of Wisconsin participating. The shows draw designers from the Milwaukee, Chicago and Madison areas. In its second year, the event moved to the Hyatt Regency Milwaukee in the hotel’s circular rooftop ballroom, Vue. Last year, fashion shows took place at three locations downtown. During intermission and at the end of the show, designers and models will interact with the audience, who will get a chance to look at the garments up close. On Thursday, see Emily Ristow's unique everyday wear and Erin Aubrey's custom dyed, high fashion designs. The show includes men’s designers too. Allison Jarrett creates tailored looks for men and women. Friday, check out Moda Muñeca for something with an edge. The line is designed by Chelsea Stotts, who was the RAWMilwaukee Fashion Designer of the Year. Jordan Weber's classic and elegant evening wear will also go down the runway.Read more at:http://www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-brisbane | www.marieaustralia.com/sexy-formal-dresses
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Sep 22, 2016
Sep 22, 2016 at 3:03 AM UTC
Fashion week returns to Milwaukee
Fashion Week is coming to Brew City Thursday through Saturday, with 24 designers showcasing fashions ranging from athleisure to bridal and evening wear. “Fashion is more than L.A. or New York,” said Deborah Reimer, the event’s primary organizer. “We’re not just about beer and cheese. Milwaukee has a lot of talent and the fashion industry is growing, and it is time that it gets seen in the public eye.” Nightly fashion shows will feature eight designers each. About half of the designers are new to Milwaukee Fashion Week, while the rest are returning from the 2015 show. The designers range in experience, with students from Mount Mary and the Art Institute of Wisconsin participating. The shows draw designers from the Milwaukee, Chicago and Madison areas. In its second year, the event moved to the Hyatt Regency Milwaukee in the hotel’s circular rooftop ballroom, Vue. Last year, fashion shows took place at three locations downtown. During intermission and at the end of the show, designers and models will interact with the audience, who will get a chance to look at the garments up close. On Thursday, see Emily Ristow's unique everyday wear and Erin Aubrey's custom dyed, high fashion designs. The show includes men’s designers too. Allison Jarrett creates tailored looks for men and women. Friday, check out Moda Muñeca for something with an edge. The line is designed by Chelsea Stotts, who was the RAWMilwaukee Fashion Designer of the Year. Jordan Weber's classic and elegant evening wear will also go down the runway.Read more at:http://www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-brisbane | www.marieaustralia.com/sexy-formal-dresses
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Sometimes I just wish I could hug you. Like a sweet little novel I've been dying to read, I wish to read you, all over, front and back, spine to paper. And yes, often times, I just wish I could wrap you up in a roll of oozing vanilla and breathe the moment in. I wish I could tell you that you're worth more than the girl who left you standing on you front porch with a lingering love. Sometimes, I wish that your eyes would softly rest upon mine and feel peace in knowing your life is not complete with her, but rather complemented, perhaps, with me. Someday I wish you look at life's disappointments as a step towards greater and not a stand still of why's and why-not's. And if you're willing, I would hope you sit and wish the same for me. - Julia Aubrey Rhodes -
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Oct 30, 2017
Oct 30, 2017 at 12:01 AM UTC
Checked Out with No Specific Due Date.
I'd known you for all five years of my life when I learned we are cousins. I envied the seven months of wisdom you had more than me. You had a dog I loved and a stuffed cat that purred. You saw the elephants in Chiang Mai seven months before I did.
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Oct 12, 2018
Oct 12, 2018 at 5:19 PM UTC
Aubrey, age 5
When i see you, i cant help but smile. You let me forget my worries, if only for a few moments. Your name is so unique and adorable. Im glad you dont read poetry. Im so quiet, and you are so loud and outgoing what makes you like me? Opposites attract? Im horrible at sports, while youre making every basket. Our lives cant be more different. But i love it. Me, the book nerd and you, the athlete. Whats in store for us?
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Mar 25, 2015
Mar 25, 2015 at 6:19 PM UTC
Aubrey
How do I say its not going to work out? How do I just randomly break his heart when I honestly care so much about him? "He's my LORD" I will tell him,"You know our earthly love cannot compare." I feel he is allowed me to stray from you oh LORD, for he tempts me so much. But what do I do? Do i just come out and say it? Do I let the throat cutting words that slip from my lips  be as simple as,"Excuse me, do you know the time?" And the worst part of it is the selfless soul dwelling with in me. I have given too much, and so much so that my own skin is growing thinner and thinner. My insides slowly disappear every time I offer you something. I am dying. I have been giving ever piece of myself to you completely, and I can't take it. And the thing is, my body is already so weak that it makes it so much harder for the words I need to tell you to even reach my lips. You are the collector of my insides, trapper, hunter, and experimenter. Your check list is almost filled up along with the shelves stacked high with jars of me. Pretty soon, my soul will be wrapped around your finger, and I am certain that will be the ultimate death of me. "Oh LORD, please hear my thoughts. Save my soul from this false love and take me home again where I can be consumed in your grace." If at all that is possible. -Julia Aubrey Rhodes-
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Nov 27, 2016
Nov 27, 2016 at 12:55 AM UTC
The Real Keeper of My Soul
I remember the time I really looked into your eyes; I mean I had always thought they were brown, but when I looked, and I mean really looked, I was mistaken. The fourth of July actually was a time for color and celebration, and as I sat beside you and watched the glowing works explode the sky's veil, I knew I didn't want the flames to stop falling through the haziness of your eyes. Speckled green. The perfect color, just in between all the rest, absorbing life itself. Each laugh erupted louder than the booms in the sky, and every smile was something like the Cheshire Cat, gleaming in the darkness. And once the golden whirlwind had ended, once we walked apart, I stayed humming the tune of your voice as it replayed over and over in my mind. -Julia Aubrey Rhodes-
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Feb 3, 2017
Feb 3, 2017 at 5:30 PM UTC
Golden Whirlwind
this isn't a poem but I met aubrey plaza chris pratt and nick offerman they were so fabulous, kind and considerate I feel lucky to have met them and now i'm crying
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Jul 30, 2013
Jul 30, 2013 at 6:03 AM UTC
london eye at 11:02
this is why i'm not getting married **** me bury me with a teddy bear it would be considered too hot for more friction, the kind that doesn't result in smelly sheets, obviously not here, to them. **** me bury me with earplugs but put them in after I decide to leave tell most of the women whom I would've loved if they'd let me that I love them, if you're stumped I'll write a list: Grace Caitlin Courtney Aubrey Kate Malena **** me bury me with stardust so I can fit in wherever I'm going
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May 21, 2013
May 21, 2013 at 11:11 PM UTC
parents & punkish
Scattered across the blue sea Is where your find me, My spirit enmeshed in tides of serenity My body floating free in ripples of harmony My heart deep in love swimming around forever being lost in your soul, Within your spirit I live Within your spirit I laugh Within your spirit I love, It's very tranquil here Under the flowing waters my spirit grows dispersed like seaweed Moving with the timeless waves Amongst the glittery stars as my ancestors watch over me and where ever you are, The crescent moons also my guide The sun's my warmth And you always my light, I'M A PEACEFUL SPIRIT NOW Written by Kitrina Aubrey
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Jul 23, 2016
Jul 23, 2016 at 4:11 AM UTC
~Peaceful Spirit~
If I can say one thing to you, a final word, all I would be able to mutter is the word "disappointment". My body shakes so much because my soul is constantly on the verge of collapsing, and more than one word would allow the goo to flow right out, to drown you. And in some ways, some where along the road when I so happen to run into you, I know it will be different. And yes, because we have changed, and because we always have been different, even the humidity couldn't evaporate the facts. But just wait, maybe there's a chance, a cork in the old bottle of mascot might just save the rich flavor we once had, maybe even make it stronger after a few years. For now, I will leave a candle in my window every night, because even without my sun, I have a flame that is bound to catch fire somewhere else in the dark. -Julia Aubrey Rhodes-
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Feb 10, 2016
Feb 10, 2016 at 10:57 PM UTC
"Flame in the Dark"