"blaire" poems - Hello Poetry

what happens when you're the sole male in a supermarket, filled by females, cashiers, and the customers... you walk in, you walk out, which is not as bad as being intimidated by nine prostitutes while you wait your turn.. you walk in, and then you walk out... with aud lang syne booming from your ears... (i kannie **** cry at tje track.. mountains man... just mountains... i kannie not cry... or forget that i danced the Kayleigh without donning the kilt) o heart o thistle... o my dear earned hands, to hand over the land worth of till and toil... my own and sole wish... that Scotland take my heart and gives unto it... bloom... once upon the cobbled stones of the Royal Mile... then upon the dawn of day, upon Arthur's Seat... for what i am worth, to have but this sight, of seeing far an wide... Edinburgh... the only city whereby i refused the ingenuity of the compass... Firth of Forth... however welcome or unwelcome... through to the backstreets of Dundee... and behind the history of Glen Cove... i cry... because Scotland is the only "convenience" of home know to me... a home, that is more... it's an ideal... an.... idea... England can never be it... England could never be "it"... England was merely the handing over of Hong Kong under Blaire... it was the Labor government... the late 90s... but Scotland was so much more... and will forever be more than just much more... had the heart eyes, it would see this thistle baron as for what i see it as... as i leave it, as i've left all prior palaces of my habitation... always the fonder memory, than a fond-of experience among the living... may the dead serve the same exacting justice upon me, as i, among the living, revive them... back t life, and the knife of mortality's burdens... and us do our part, to part, with a hope of once more, congregating, in either a heaven, or a hell.

0

Nov 14, 2018

Nov 14, 2018 at 8:41 PM UTC

removed.polaroid-scrabble

an ode to Scotland

what happens when you're the sole male in a supermarket, filled by females, cashiers, and the customers... you walk in, you walk out, which is not as bad as being intimidated by nine prostitutes while you wait your turn.. you walk in, and then you walk out... with aud lang syne booming from your ears... (i kannie **** cry at tje track.. mountains man... just mountains... i kannie not cry... or forget that i danced the Kayleigh without donning the kilt) o heart o thistle... o my dear earned hands, to hand over the land worth of till and toil... my own and sole wish... that Scotland take my heart and gives unto it... bloom... once upon the cobbled stones of the Royal Mile... then upon the dawn of day, upon Arthur's Seat... for what i am worth, to have but this sight, of seeing far an wide... Edinburgh... the only city whereby i refused the ingenuity of the compass... Firth of Forth... however welcome or unwelcome... through to the backstreets of Dundee... and behind the history of Glen Cove... i cry... because Scotland is the only "convenience" of home know to me... a home, that is more... it's an ideal... an.... idea... England can never be it... England could never be "it"... England was merely the handing over of Hong Kong under Blaire... it was the Labor government... the late 90s... but Scotland was so much more... and will forever be more than just much more... had the heart eyes, it would see this thistle baron as for what i see it as... as i leave it, as i've left all prior palaces of my habitation... always the fonder memory, than a fond-of experience among the living... may the dead serve the same exacting justice upon me, as i, among the living, revive them... back t life, and the knife of mortality's burdens... and us do our part, to part, with a hope of once more, congregating, in either a heaven, or a hell.

74

i guess anyone can be dragged into some zetigeist point of interest; and as anyone, here are my two-pence argument. so i'm listening to this "dicussion" - or what became a heated debate... firstly, since dialectics only works one-on-one between only two people, and is subsequently reduced to screaming and shouting if staged in a public place with interjections from flies and gnats who throw in their own two-pence worth of supporting either of the two people having a "discussion"... well... another thing about original dialectics, and modern dialectics? the mediator... in original dialectics there was no mediator, unless of course if you suppose socrates was the mediator, even so, that ancient mediator asked questions... the modern mediator? doesn't ask anything other than asking one speaker to not interrupt the other speaker... the topic of discussion i was listening to? transexuality... ****** confusing, something confusing was bugging me... why would i have to call a man a transwoman? shouldn't i be calling a man transman? otherwise i'll be confusing pronouns... or not using them "properly"... i just think that proper nouns are not being used... it's not for the man to identify himself as a transwoman... why? i'm the "cis" man who's supposed to identify the man, as a woman, and what happens then? the man retains his inner-trans conceptualisation i.e. i am beyond being a man, there i must show to cis men that i am... e.g.? i was "fooled" by blaire white, i thought she was a woman... and i still couldn't believe she wasn't when she did a video showing her pre-transition photographs... see!? what's this ******** about improper pronoun usage? what is happening is, AN IMPROPER NOUN usage, by the man, who is a transman within himself, but a woman to me, therefore i have no problem in finding her attractive; it would be easier to decide in Scotland, i know that... is a woman who internalised her transition and became a transwoman was wearing a kilt... and phoom! the garden of eden, and a river running though it, down the middle.

0

Jun 19, 2017

Jun 19, 2017 at 3:02 PM UTC

removed.polaroid-scrabble

proper pronoun usage vs. improper noun usage

i guess anyone can be dragged into some zetigeist point of interest; and as anyone, here are my two-pence argument. so i'm listening to this "dicussion" - or what became a heated debate... firstly, since dialectics only works one-on-one between only two people, and is subsequently reduced to screaming and shouting if staged in a public place with interjections from flies and gnats who throw in their own two-pence worth of supporting either of the two people having a "discussion"... well... another thing about original dialectics, and modern dialectics? the mediator... in original dialectics there was no mediator, unless of course if you suppose socrates was the mediator, even so, that ancient mediator asked questions... the modern mediator? doesn't ask anything other than asking one speaker to not interrupt the other speaker... the topic of discussion i was listening to? transexuality... ****** confusing, something confusing was bugging me... why would i have to call a man a transwoman? shouldn't i be calling a man transman? otherwise i'll be confusing pronouns... or not using them "properly"... i just think that proper nouns are not being used... it's not for the man to identify himself as a transwoman... why? i'm the "cis" man who's supposed to identify the man, as a woman, and what happens then? the man retains his inner-trans conceptualisation i.e. i am beyond being a man, there i must show to cis men that i am... e.g.? i was "fooled" by blaire white, i thought she was a woman... and i still couldn't believe she wasn't when she did a video showing her pre-transition photographs... see!? what's this ******** about improper pronoun usage? what is happening is, AN IMPROPER NOUN usage, by the man, who is a transman within himself, but a woman to me, therefore i have no problem in finding her attractive; it would be easier to decide in Scotland, i know that... is a woman who internalised her transition and became a transwoman was wearing a kilt... and phoom! the garden of eden, and a river running though it, down the middle.

68

Fiction in the kitchen. Claire & Blaire were aware of the mean stare. They swear it was there. She cared about despair. She said a silent prayer. She declared how it was unfair & dared their unwillingness to compare to share it is rare, To have an explict affair anywhere. To avoid rude glares. Tempers flared. Try to prepare to fix & repair. Does pierre have some tools to spare? The pair went to the shopping square. They to the mare. At farmer's market got some pears. And did there nails & hair. Let's have a seat in this here wicker chair. What a cute teddy bear. Her dress had a tare. Her cheek a tear. What should she wear?

0

Jan 18, 2015

Jan 18, 2015 at 12:18 AM UTC

harmony-sapphire

Little girl in the wicker chair

Fiction in the kitchen. Claire & Blaire were aware of the mean stare. They swear it was there. She cared about despair. She said a silent prayer. She declared how it was unfair & dared their unwillingness to compare to share it is rare, To have an explict affair anywhere. To avoid rude glares. Tempers flared. Try to prepare to fix & repair. Does pierre have some tools to spare? The pair went to the shopping square. They to the mare. At farmer's market got some pears. And did there nails & hair. Let's have a seat in this here wicker chair. What a cute teddy bear. Her dress had a tare. Her cheek a tear. What should she wear?

22