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"braves" poems
Bless your sister of the light As she braves on through the night Her cousin darkness loves to smite May she always have great might And her cousin see the bright Where there is none to fright Sister, take us to your height
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Aug 31, 2014
Aug 31, 2014 at 4:26 PM UTC
Light
The strike of the rainbow warriors After a few hours in the dark cages of horror we suddenly see a sharp light in the sky of evil. The golden goddess notices another ship coming towards the devils spike city. At that moment the orange and black pirates run towards their  ships in dock and sound a long dark horn of terror. The golden goddess notices a large rainbow type ship sailing in firing laser rays at the pirates vessels of evil. The ship sets into the dock of spike city while  some remaining  pirates get cut down and captured with blue laser nets of torture.  Our eyes  open with horror when  rainbow type creatures with bows and arrows jump out of the ship and circle our cages of horror. A few of the black  pirate in the purple bushes try and shoot the rainbow warriors but get cut down with their laser fast arrows.  The commander of the rainbow warriors suddenly jumps down from the  ship and lifts up the cages with power and  ease while the warriors round up the captured pirates. I comfort a shaking luitent megs while the commander shakes our hands before releasing the other golden warriors from their dark cage.  The horses bow their heads towards the commander while the golden goddess looks with hope in her beaten heart. All of a sudden two rainbow warriors march out a swearing and aggressive woman  holding a long jagged sword and pirates armband. The rainbow warriors quickly zap her evil body  and hold her down tightly .  The golden goddess goes  over for a better look while her long tongue  of nails  cuts of a warriors head off  with ease. The rainbow warriors  chop her evil tongue off with a swipe of the rainbow sword  before pinning her to the cold ground. two of the warriors then begin to peel  her black  dress of horror off while  other rainbow braves flock around. A curious golden goddess peeps though for a better look while the warriors are  undoing her  small black studded bra of terror. The goddess looks on with a smile and twinkle while she screams in anger at her ******* bouncing in the dark cold night. All of a sudden the commander comes inside the circle of torture  and begins removing her  devilish red ******* while the  warriors cheer and scream.  The golden goddess looks  on with  a content smile while  the  warriors chop her body up into bit with their  glowing swords. After a few minutes the rest of the pirates are shot and executed with laser bouts  while we all sit watch with open mouths of  horror.  The commander then takes us aboard the rainbow ship of safety  while the pirates come back to evil spike city with four more pirate ships of torture. We all sail across the red  evil sea towards a big large rainbow in the glowing  yellow sky whilst  being followed by two black  pirate ships.  Once we reach  through  the rainbows end we begin to notice the water  turning bright pink  and the pirate ships turning  back towards the red river of horror. A relived golden goddess  turns towards her army and smiles while we we all jump about on the rainbow ship of safety.  I hold luitent megs tight in my arms while the green moon sets across the  blue landscape in the distance. written by wayne mockler ownership and copyright wayne mockler
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Apr 25, 2020
Apr 25, 2020 at 2:34 PM UTC
The strike of the rainbow warriors
The strike of the rainbow warriors After a few hours in the dark cages of horror we suddenly see a sharp light in the sky of evil. The golden goddess notices another ship coming towards the devils spike city. At that moment the orange and black pirates run towards their  ships in dock and sound a long dark horn of terror. The golden goddess notices a large rainbow type ship sailing in firing laser rays at the pirates vessels of evil. The ship sets into the dock of spike city while  some remaining  pirates get cut down and captured with blue laser nets of torture.  Our eyes  open with horror when  rainbow type creatures with bows and arrows jump out of the ship and circle our cages of horror. A few of the black  pirate in the purple bushes try and shoot the rainbow warriors but get cut down with their laser fast arrows.  The commander of the rainbow warriors suddenly jumps down from the  ship and lifts up the cages with power and  ease while the warriors round up the captured pirates. I comfort a shaking luitent megs while the commander shakes our hands before releasing the other golden warriors from their dark cage.  The horses bow their heads towards the commander while the golden goddess looks with hope in her beaten heart. All of a sudden two rainbow warriors march out a swearing and aggressive woman  holding a long jagged sword and pirates armband. The rainbow warriors quickly zap her evil body  and hold her down tightly .  The golden goddess goes  over for a better look while her long tongue  of nails  cuts of a warriors head off  with ease. The rainbow warriors  chop her evil tongue off with a swipe of the rainbow sword  before pinning her to the cold ground. two of the warriors then begin to peel  her black  dress of horror off while  other rainbow braves flock around. A curious golden goddess peeps though for a better look while the warriors are  undoing her  small black studded bra of terror. The goddess looks on with a smile and twinkle while she screams in anger at her ******* bouncing in the dark cold night. All of a sudden the commander comes inside the circle of torture  and begins removing her  devilish red ******* while the  warriors cheer and scream.  The golden goddess looks  on with  a content smile while  the  warriors chop her body up into bit with their  glowing swords. After a few minutes the rest of the pirates are shot and executed with laser bouts  while we all sit watch with open mouths of  horror.  The commander then takes us aboard the rainbow ship of safety  while the pirates come back to evil spike city with four more pirate ships of torture. We all sail across the red  evil sea towards a big large rainbow in the glowing  yellow sky whilst  being followed by two black  pirate ships.  Once we reach  through  the rainbows end we begin to notice the water  turning bright pink  and the pirate ships turning  back towards the red river of horror. A relived golden goddess  turns towards her army and smiles while we we all jump about on the rainbow ship of safety.  I hold luitent megs tight in my arms while the green moon sets across the  blue landscape in the distance. written by wayne mockler ownership and copyright wayne mockler
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15
The battlefield was here, where these cattle graze The cavalry and Comanche fought the better part of a day Guns against arrows, savages against the savagery, they were out-drawn Braves against the bullets, so helpless their plight Defending their land and families Maybe they were right Now, it’s just a valley The way it was back then The day before that massacre of forty honest Indians This is their memorial This bright day above A view that lasts for miles The many trees and shrubs And the wild flowers That grow between the rocks Their maidens wore them in their braids Before their loves were lost.
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Mar 26, 2017
Mar 26, 2017 at 6:11 PM UTC
NATIVE HISTORY
She was silent, misused, and manipulated. He was Brave. He was her hero. Brave sauntered over to Silent. Silent was sick with manipulation and was covered head to toe in the ashes of those who misused her. Brave raised her up out of the ashes he wiped away the disrespect and eventually gained her trust. When trust was gained Brave became how she built her self-respect. Brave saw beauty, intelligence,someone to love where she never did. Soon Silent became Bold with the help of Braves ways. Before long Bold was able to stand with Brave grasping her hand above what used to be ashes. Together Brave and Bold vanished the ashes by binding their love. In a short time after a river of complements flowed for anyone who ever felt silent could go.
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Mar 6, 2017
Mar 6, 2017 at 1:19 AM UTC
He Was Brave
Hello there little hemorrhoid. Hanging from my **** I really wish you'd go away, 'Cause you hurt like you know what. At times you seem to disappear, And then I have relief. But when I go and take a dump, You then return. "Good grief!" You really make me feel, Like I'm pooping broken glass. Or something else that's jagged, That I have to try and pass. I don't want you to stay around, My sphincter and I agree. 'Cause when I use the toilet paper, It feels like bark from a tree! I've used medicated pads And even gooey cream. But no matter what, you still return, Like an awful, recurring dream! From suppositories to cold packs And using an air pillow. There seems to be no relief From you my little fellow. I've heard that a specialist Who braves that funky zone Can remove you with a snip But my wallet's empty and alone. So I guess I am stuck with you On my derriere And with the pain I get from you Causing me to swear!
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Nov 26, 2012
Nov 26, 2012 at 5:30 PM UTC
Little Hemorrhoid
Although the skies appear blue, Blueish white, with cottony hue. Coloured orange, with fainted red Dazzles bright at each sunset. Evening sky, intensely blue, Fainted is the sunset hue. Glowworms dance, adorn the hue Happiness spreads  in the world anew Into this landscapic purplish blue. Juggling, days Klucking nights Lying stunned in this hue so right Man, the creature, so curiously few. No matter it's a day or two, some hues amaze like a landscapic view! Orange red, with deep yellow in blue, Pearly stars, adorn the view. Quilty cold, in the days with dew Rosemary looks majestically new! Sun, the ball of fire for few Teaches, turns a page each new, Unknown, interesting, perceivable to few Vanity is so pale, to take, Wander, wither, breath well each day. Xmas may not come each day, Yawn, smile, admire all days, as uncertain are night somedays Zenith meets  only the braves,  let zephyrs cuddle,  embrace your zealousy face.
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Nov 19, 2017
Nov 19, 2017 at 5:18 PM UTC
Alphabetical (ABCD....WXYZ) Poem on 'Nature & The Sky Above'
‘Tis your pennies that make me pound, Like a shepherd mourning his fallen hound , Such is the death of my drunken pride , That makes winter , a poet’s bride . ‘Tis your comfort , I wish to skin, And the game of chance , that scripted your win, Such is the shine of a tanner’s hide, That make’s winter , a poet’s bride . ‘Twas your charity that made me wait, On the doorsteps of your divine’s hate , Such are the Churches I laid aside , To make winter, the Poet’s bride . Realization Strikes I can’t rhyme my way to the kingdom of warmth But I can roam the streets , Like I always did , In search of warmth And Roam I did I roamed that Street , Where the City pretends to be what its not . I roamed those Hearts who call that Street, Home of their Christmas thought . I roamed it all , Till the fairy lights were there to help me see , But Alas , I found no warmth where they promised it would always be , But Instead , Not Far away from the echoes of the city making merry . I found an abandoned cemetery, And in the Sea of unmarked graves, I heard the voices of forgotten braves; And So, I learnt the art , Of braving the Chill, Without a survivor’s iron will  . I learnt to sleep without a care , And immune I became to winter’s nightmare .
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Dec 29, 2014
Dec 29, 2014 at 11:39 AM UTC
Warmth for The Poet’s Bride
We live in a country, where people are respected. We live in a country, where people 's unity. We live in a country, Where the hotel is supposed to be god. We live in a country, Where women are like goddess worship. We live in a country, Where hindu muslim sikh and christians are all brothers. We live in a country, where parents are considered to be the god of the earth. We live in a country, where all people have to die for the country. We live in a country, Where subash chandra, Azad and Bhagat singh was born as braves. We live in a country, Where truth and honesty is a precedent. We live in a country, Where the rivers are provide pure water. We live in a country, where the flag is always undulate. we live in a country, Those who call india. JAY HIND         JAY BHARAT
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May 21, 2015
May 21, 2015 at 3:49 AM UTC
WE LIVE IN A COUNTRY
Tears wept like droplets beneath a faulty pipe; for the braves A woman stranded wondering, Is this the last goodbye? A man stood pondering petrified, contemplating his demise An infant unable to comprehend, yet she nonetheless cries A captain sat perplexed, These lives are jeopardized An ocean parting waves coupled by parting waves The horizon sits between them as an autumn sky.
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Jan 15, 2013
Jan 15, 2013 at 11:48 PM UTC
Parting Ways
The Trail of Tears we Sturdy Braves must face Shows the Lone Star Maiden who won his Cause Celebrate! Even Defeat sings your Praise Now our Songs extract Victory from Loss Just how Darling Painful this News must be Which Fifty Swords stab our Sole Hearts intact We are Respectful here; Just wait and see If this Edict of Worries paint us Black This is NOT the Way! My Promise to You Even though you know me not from Adam I am a Cowboy mighty Honest and True West Traditions unite: Godspeed, my Madam! Look, Diver Boy! The Medal on your Neck Scowls at your Value and asks you to Relfect.
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Mar 10, 2013
Mar 10, 2013 at 9:07 PM UTC
SONNET TRIBUTE SUNDRY - THIRTEEN - TOM DALEY
Light weight, black glossy, perfection You must hold such a weapon with confidence Slender black arrows with green feathers Bundled in the fine homemade black leather quiver The silver steel tips made to **** Sunlight playing peak a boo With the shadows all around you The ancient trees look down upon you The wind picks up and gently plays with your hair You breathe in the familiar smell Of the ancient forest you call home You haven't caught an a-wi in days What will the hungry little ones do? You see a flash of movement and you freeze Draw a single arrow from the quiver on your back Without a sound you take your position Silently with practiced ease you aim and fire You hear the death cry of the animal you have shot Swiftly you run to were the cry came There lays the plumpest most beautiful a-wi you have seen in moons Thanking the a-wi with the words you were taught as a child "Thank you dear sister/brother for giving your life so that my family could continue to live theirs" With the sacred whisper you end the a-wi's pain with a quick slice from your blade Smiling and whispering you’re thanks to the Great Spirit You run as fast as you can to get the villages warrior braves You are small but you are part of the Tsa-la-gi Therefore you are never alone
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Apr 17, 2015
Apr 17, 2015 at 10:13 PM UTC
The Girl Hunter
Do they play baseball in heaven. Wonder if you know if they play baseball in heaven? Think they have a baseball field in the clouds? Does guys like Mickey mantle and Frank Robins on. Does the great Babe Ruth hit home runs? Are there teams like the Yankees or the braves up there. I know God must have a team he likes. I want to find out if they are the angels. Do you think that I will be able to play with the cool ones? I know they must have a hall of fame with guys like Joe and Stan
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Aug 7, 2014
Aug 7, 2014 at 12:56 AM UTC
Do they play baseball in heaven.
II. Oh ! vers ces vétérans quand notre esprit s'élève, Nous voyons leur front luire et resplendir leur glaive, Fertile en grands travaux. C'étaient là les anciens. Mais ce temps les efface ! France, dans ton histoire ils tiennent trop de place. France, gloire aux nouveaux ! Oui, gloire à ceux d'hier ! ils se mettent cent mille, Sabres nus, vingt contre un, sans crainte, et par la ville S'en vont, tambours battants. À mitraille ! leur feu brille, l'obusier tonne, Victoire ! ils ont tué, carrefour Tiquetonne, Un enfant de sept ans ! Ceux-ci sont des héros qui n'ont pas peur des femmes Ils tirent sans pâlir, gloire à ces grandes âmes ! Sur les passants tremblants. On voit, quand dans Paris leur troupe se promène, Aux fers de leurs chevaux de la cervelle humaine Avec des cheveux blancs ! Ils montent à l'assaut des lois ; sur la patrie Ils s'élancent ; chevaux, fantassins, batterie, Bataillon, escadron, Gorgés, payés, repus, joyeux, fous de colère, Sonnant la charge, avec Maupas pour vexillaire Et Veuillot pour clairon. Tout, le fer et le plomb, manque à nos bras farouches, Le peuple est sans fusils, le peuple est sans cartouches, Braves ! c'est le moment ! Avec quelques tribuns la loi demeure seule. Derrière vos canons chargés jusqu'à la gueule Risquez-vous hardiment ! Ô soldats de décembre ! ô soldats d'embuscades Contre votre pays ! honte à vos cavalcades Dans Paris consterné ! Vos pères, je l'ai dit, brillaient comme le phare ; Ils bravaient, en chantant une haute fanfare, La mort, spectre étonné ; Vos pères combattaient les plus fières armées, Le prussien blond, le russe aux foudres enflammées, Le catalan bruni, Vous, vous tuez des gens de bourse et de négoce. Vos pères, ces géants, avaient pris Saragosse, Vous prenez Tortoni ! Histoire, qu'en dis-tu ? les vieux dans les batailles Couraient sur les canons vomissant les mitrailles ; Ceux-ci vont, sans trembler, Foulant aux pieds vieillards sanglants, femmes mourantes Droit au crime. Ce sont deux façons différentes De ne pas reculer. Jersey, du 7 au 13 janvier 1853.
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2.2k
À l'obéissance passive (II)
II. Oh ! vers ces vétérans quand notre esprit s'élève, Nous voyons leur front luire et resplendir leur glaive, Fertile en grands travaux. C'étaient là les anciens. Mais ce temps les efface ! France, dans ton histoire ils tiennent trop de place. France, gloire aux nouveaux ! Oui, gloire à ceux d'hier ! ils se mettent cent mille, Sabres nus, vingt contre un, sans crainte, et par la ville S'en vont, tambours battants. À mitraille ! leur feu brille, l'obusier tonne, Victoire ! ils ont tué, carrefour Tiquetonne, Un enfant de sept ans ! Ceux-ci sont des héros qui n'ont pas peur des femmes Ils tirent sans pâlir, gloire à ces grandes âmes ! Sur les passants tremblants. On voit, quand dans Paris leur troupe se promène, Aux fers de leurs chevaux de la cervelle humaine Avec des cheveux blancs ! Ils montent à l'assaut des lois ; sur la patrie Ils s'élancent ; chevaux, fantassins, batterie, Bataillon, escadron, Gorgés, payés, repus, joyeux, fous de colère, Sonnant la charge, avec Maupas pour vexillaire Et Veuillot pour clairon. Tout, le fer et le plomb, manque à nos bras farouches, Le peuple est sans fusils, le peuple est sans cartouches, Braves ! c'est le moment ! Avec quelques tribuns la loi demeure seule. Derrière vos canons chargés jusqu'à la gueule Risquez-vous hardiment ! Ô soldats de décembre ! ô soldats d'embuscades Contre votre pays ! honte à vos cavalcades Dans Paris consterné ! Vos pères, je l'ai dit, brillaient comme le phare ; Ils bravaient, en chantant une haute fanfare, La mort, spectre étonné ; Vos pères combattaient les plus fières armées, Le prussien blond, le russe aux foudres enflammées, Le catalan bruni, Vous, vous tuez des gens de bourse et de négoce. Vos pères, ces géants, avaient pris Saragosse, Vous prenez Tortoni ! Histoire, qu'en dis-tu ? les vieux dans les batailles Couraient sur les canons vomissant les mitrailles ; Ceux-ci vont, sans trembler, Foulant aux pieds vieillards sanglants, femmes mourantes Droit au crime. Ce sont deux façons différentes De ne pas reculer. Jersey, du 7 au 13 janvier 1853.
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50
- Have you ever been in a moment? When you wake up in the morning You see it all blank You feel like you’re nothing Everything has no meaning Asking yourself ‘why am I here’? Why am I living but feeling dead Why am I still here? Asking what’s the purpose? The reason for all of this Then you find no answer And you want to end it in a click But you can’t Because at the same moment You still want to live Be one of the braves Whose still fighting And you still have hope That one day in a million days You’ll find the answer The reason why you’re in this moment *Beholding the past Dying today And living for tomorrow.*
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Mar 16, 2016
Mar 16, 2016 at 8:41 PM UTC
Why am I here?
We can never forget September 11, 2001 We will forever remember such a date A date that will live in infamy A date that has everything in it: Sadness, fire, death, destruction and bravery Heroism, sickness and resilience, except happiness 9/11/2001 is a memorable and a daring date That changed the world. Things are not seen like The day before. We have a different perspective About life and everything under the sun We learn new ways of mourning, sighing Fighting, of course new ways of being absolutely resilient No, we will never forget this fateful day where terrorism Became a new word. Everybody is talking about the death Of so many brave first responders: firefighters, policemen And many others who wear proudly their uniforms We shall never forget 9/11. We will never forget 9/11 The sacrifices made by the brave civilians who had lost their lives Are priceless. The eternal flame in our heart cannot be extinguished We know that everyone in NYC and elsewhere will always Remember how the world got shocked, stunned by these egregious And deadly actions perpetrated by a bunch of sick cowards 9/11/2001 is a monument engrained in our brain which will live there For a very long time. The memories of the braves are metastasized In our psychic, no one can suppress them without killing us cold "911" is no longer three numbers but a historic symbol like Pearl Harbor 9/11/2001 is now 18 years old. 18 years of tears, fear, pain and suffering We shall never forget 9/11. We will remember. We can never forget 9/11. Copyright © 9/11/2019, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved. Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.
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Sep 11, 2025
Sep 11, 2025 at 8:29 AM UTC
We Can Never Forget 9/11/2001
We can never forget September 11, 2001 We will forever remember such a date A date that will live in infamy A date that has everything in it: Sadness, fire, death, destruction and bravery Heroism, sickness and resilience, except happiness 9/11/2001 is a memorable and a daring date That changed the world. Things are not seen like The day before. We have a different perspective About life and everything under the sun We learn new ways of mourning, sighing Fighting, of course new ways of being absolutely resilient No, we will never forget this fateful day where terrorism Became a new word. Everybody is talking about the death Of so many brave first responders: firefighters, policemen And many others who wear proudly their uniforms We shall never forget 9/11. We will never forget 9/11 The sacrifices made by the brave civilians who had lost their lives Are priceless. The eternal flame in our heart cannot be extinguished We know that everyone in NYC and elsewhere will always Remember how the world got shocked, stunned by these egregious And deadly actions perpetrated by a bunch of sick cowards 9/11/2001 is a monument engrained in our brain which will live there For a very long time. The memories of the braves are metastasized In our psychic, no one can suppress them without killing us cold "911" is no longer three numbers but a historic symbol like Pearl Harbor 9/11/2001 is now 18 years old. 18 years of tears, fear, pain and suffering We shall never forget 9/11. We will remember. We can never forget 9/11. Copyright © 9/11/2019, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved. Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.
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30
Christ on the cross was maximumly heroic: He was braver than braves that slay goliath foes, Or warriors facing deadly threats with stoic And stony faces, standing nose to nose.   At Golgotha the sin of all the world was laid On Him who, though despised, was more victorious Than a general at his own ticker-tape parade, Thronged by a grateful nation joyous and uproarious. Had Christ destroyed his enemies with a thought (An option for Him), He would've suffered a defeat Since all the lessons the Lord of Glory taught Would've been dismissed as having been taught by a cheat. It would've been the easy, cowardly fashion Of escaping the pain that proved His Godly passion.
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Oct 8, 2023
Oct 8, 2023 at 10:48 AM UTC
The Heroic Maximum
History was made here As a blacksmith On Ebbets field Hammering metal blocks Into master keys; That doors once locked Unjustly Might yield; That access once denied Might field a team Of jack and white; And a wrinkled page Might burn the braves And turn a band of indians Into champions... ~ P (#Integration) 1/2/2015
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Jan 2, 2015
Jan 2, 2015 at 9:25 PM UTC
Integration
SPRING Like a bull, she charged the dandelion hill Her child-sister a pack on her back, until The braves swarmed from the wooded rill She shouted to her comrades to lie still Among the sweet grass and the dewy chill Wild girl SUMMER She clutched the bark skin of Hawthorne trees Skidding down, then pressing in her knees Mop of chestnut hair blowing in the breeze Which smell'd of hot soil and sweet peas The sun above as close as she could please Wild girl AUTUMN Page after page, her blackish eyes devoured Tales of elves and warriors, from her tower Where real-life through the faery-glass did sour In presence of such phantasmal power Of all the leather-bound leaves they flowered Wild girl WINTER So it was, she crafted bricks of blue and red Into cathedrals and creatures concocted in her head Riled dragons to hear the tales they said Climbed mountains others would not dare to tread And did it all before momma called her to bed Wild girl
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Jan 11, 2014
Jan 11, 2014 at 12:13 AM UTC
Wild Girl
the ocean watches and it knows. it knows of the mermaid who sings of loneliness and strong tides, she dreams of a sailor in constant travel. her heart runs deeper than treacherous trenches, her saltwater love for him overflowing. she hears his song from deep beneath and sings her heart out like he would listen. the ocean watches and it knows. it knows of the sailor who has danced from coast to coast, he braves the sea storms, the continuous thunder, because somewhere in the middle of the sea he hears a lovely mermaid song as if she were calling out to him. so on sunny days, leaning by the starboard, he hums a gentle tune in response. the ocean watches and it knows. it knows of the sailor who waits for his ocean darling, it knows of the mermaid who longs for her land lover, and beyond everything it knows that the currents shall bring them together someday.
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Oct 22, 2016
Oct 22, 2016 at 1:21 PM UTC
the ocean knows
N’díídá! Wake up, wake up…my son. Hogan seeing east, great sun greets. Brave piercing cold, Brave bleeding heat. Set rezilient mind, see battles won. Brave flinted rocks, brave metaled beats. See painful pasts, set your feet lil’ one. Náás diiná Walk forward, walk forward…lil’ man. Look through clouds, look over mountains. Brave the liquor, Brave the drugs. Bend blinded minds, see lies to “amen’s”. Brave minds blinded, brave coward tugs. Hear the peoples past, set your legs lil’ one Holzishdę́ díníí’ Look to pasts, look to pasts…fighter young. Smile sacred stories, smile given songs. Brave severed cuts, Brave suicidal triggers. Laugh at tears run, let fierce anger rung. Brave the useless, brave the claimers. Sing the creation past, set your fists lil’ one. T'áá Yedigo Yániłtxi’ Speak up, stand up…my grown spear. Surprise the eagle, overpower the bear. Brave the gods, Brave the fearful. Embrace the night, prepare the gear. Brave the genocide, Brave the brainwashed. Break the path, keep slaying their fear. Keep digging…keep digging pillars of braves.
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Feb 24, 2018
Feb 24, 2018 at 12:44 PM UTC
Keep Digging Pillars
Navaho...sitting by your tee,pee Looking far away... Lost in space and time Old warrior Tired and  tranquil Remenbering the old braves of yore Phantoms that you see   Among the clouds Old partners of wars Pow wows... in the night skies Sleeping on the hard earth Joined in efforts , tenacily Wise as serpents Light as a deer Running in tall grasses Your arrows  lined together Above your shoulder Your name" light foot" Protected by the canopy Of the wide Arizona skies Colette Anne Naegle copy rights 2005
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Mar 1, 2012
Mar 1, 2012 at 2:13 AM UTC
Arizona
If a message braves a lonely dawn then quietly departs Filling your sky with the sweet honey of its sigh Will you let the sun set in the western plain of your heart Before you send this message your reply Should you feel the soft touch of this sigh on your brow Taste its honey at its finest on your lips Will you hear this message in your here and now Reply, before it once again, quietly slips While the world is doubting, will your longing run deep To hear this message breath a sigh of relief Or will you hold your reply inside the plain where you keep Your answer in your heart like a thief Despite every bracing measure you take to not reply This message will continue bravely on Filling your sky with the sweet honey of its sigh Until you respond to the lonely dawn
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Nov 8, 2010
Nov 8, 2010 at 9:04 PM UTC
Lonely Dawn
Oh, let me not serve so, as those men serve Whom honour’s smokes at once fatten and starve; Poorly enrich’t with great men’s words or looks; Nor so write my name in thy loving books As those idolatrous flatterers, which still Their Prince’s styles, with many realms fulfil Whence they no tribute have, and where no sway. Such services I offer as shall pay Themselves, I hate dead names: Oh then let me Favourite in Ordinary, or no favourite be. When my soul was in her own body sheathed, Nor yet by oaths betrothed, nor kisses breathed Into my Purgatory, faithless thee, Thy heart seemed wax, and steel thy constancy: So, careless flowers strowed on the waters face The curled whirlpools **** smack, and embrace, Yet drown them; so, the taper’s beamy eye Amorously twinkling beckons the giddy fly, Yet burns his wings; and such the devil is, Scarce visiting them who are entirely his. When I behold a stream which, from the spring, Doth with doubtful melodious murmuring, Or in a speechless slumber, calmly ride Her wedded channels’ ***** and then chide And bend her brows, and swell if any bough Do but stoop down, or kiss her upmost brow: Yet, if her often gnawing kisses win The traiterous bank to gape, and let her in, She rusheth violently, and doth divorce Her from her native, and her long-kept course, And roars, and braves it, and in gallant scorn, In flattering eddies promising retorn, She flouts the channel, who thenceforth is dry; Then say I, That is she, and this am I. Yet let not thy deep bitterness beget Careless despair in me, for that will whet My mind to scorn; and Oh, love dulled with pain Was ne’er so wise, nor well armed as disdain. Then with new eyes I shall survey thee, and spy Death in thy cheeks, and darkness in thine eye. Though hope bred faith and love: thus taught, I shall, As nations do from Rome, from thy love fall. My hate shall outgrow thine, and utterly I will renounce thy dalliance: and when I Am the recusant, in that resolute state, What hurts it me to be excommunicate?
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1.4k
Elegy VI
Oh, let me not serve so, as those men serve Whom honour’s smokes at once fatten and starve; Poorly enrich’t with great men’s words or looks; Nor so write my name in thy loving books As those idolatrous flatterers, which still Their Prince’s styles, with many realms fulfil Whence they no tribute have, and where no sway. Such services I offer as shall pay Themselves, I hate dead names: Oh then let me Favourite in Ordinary, or no favourite be. When my soul was in her own body sheathed, Nor yet by oaths betrothed, nor kisses breathed Into my Purgatory, faithless thee, Thy heart seemed wax, and steel thy constancy: So, careless flowers strowed on the waters face The curled whirlpools **** smack, and embrace, Yet drown them; so, the taper’s beamy eye Amorously twinkling beckons the giddy fly, Yet burns his wings; and such the devil is, Scarce visiting them who are entirely his. When I behold a stream which, from the spring, Doth with doubtful melodious murmuring, Or in a speechless slumber, calmly ride Her wedded channels’ ***** and then chide And bend her brows, and swell if any bough Do but stoop down, or kiss her upmost brow: Yet, if her often gnawing kisses win The traiterous bank to gape, and let her in, She rusheth violently, and doth divorce Her from her native, and her long-kept course, And roars, and braves it, and in gallant scorn, In flattering eddies promising retorn, She flouts the channel, who thenceforth is dry; Then say I, That is she, and this am I. Yet let not thy deep bitterness beget Careless despair in me, for that will whet My mind to scorn; and Oh, love dulled with pain Was ne’er so wise, nor well armed as disdain. Then with new eyes I shall survey thee, and spy Death in thy cheeks, and darkness in thine eye. Though hope bred faith and love: thus taught, I shall, As nations do from Rome, from thy love fall. My hate shall outgrow thine, and utterly I will renounce thy dalliance: and when I Am the recusant, in that resolute state, What hurts it me to be excommunicate?
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46
I come from Kashmir where land is green & white snow bed and I come from Kashmir where roads aren’t black but are red. I come from Kashmir where Daughter Tajamul brought Gold and I come from Kashmir where daughter Nafiya craves for her father’s body and lost his soul. I come from Kashmir where journalists get Peter Mackler & Pulitzer awards and yet I come from Kashmir where journalists get charged under UAPA as a reward. I come from Kashmir where Thekedar gets benefits under the Roshni Act and I come from Kashmir where an internet shutdown of 551 days was for every sect. I come from Kashmir where Gupta g ranked 1st in the country and yet I come from Kashmir where youth have to carry ID’s to prove their identity. I come from Kashmir which was known for its cultural dress Pheran and I come from Kashmir which now has more business in selling Kaffan. I come from Kashmir which Allama called the valley of braves and I come from Kashmir which now is the valley of Graves. I come from Kashmir which was called Earth’s Heaven and yet I come from Kashmir which now is the World’s Biggest Prison. I come from Kashmir where Chinars paint the autumn gold and I come from Kashmir where every spring, new tombstones unfold. I come from Kashmir where Dal Lake mirrors the moon’s glow and I come from Kashmir where blood taints the rivers’ flow. I come from Kashmir where children dream of books and play and I come from Kashmir where childhoods vanish in smoke and clay. I come from Kashmir where lovers once whispered in gardens wide and yet I come from Kashmir where silence now walks side by side. I come from Kashmir where poets wrote of love and fate and yet I come from Kashmir where verses now carry only weight. I come from Kashmir which history books fail to define and I come from Kashmir which lives between the headlines’ lines.
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Mar 4, 2025
Mar 4, 2025 at 10:36 PM UTC
A Voice from Kashmir
I come from Kashmir where land is green & white snow bed and I come from Kashmir where roads aren’t black but are red. I come from Kashmir where Daughter Tajamul brought Gold and I come from Kashmir where daughter Nafiya craves for her father’s body and lost his soul. I come from Kashmir where journalists get Peter Mackler & Pulitzer awards and yet I come from Kashmir where journalists get charged under UAPA as a reward. I come from Kashmir where Thekedar gets benefits under the Roshni Act and I come from Kashmir where an internet shutdown of 551 days was for every sect. I come from Kashmir where Gupta g ranked 1st in the country and yet I come from Kashmir where youth have to carry ID’s to prove their identity. I come from Kashmir which was known for its cultural dress Pheran and I come from Kashmir which now has more business in selling Kaffan. I come from Kashmir which Allama called the valley of braves and I come from Kashmir which now is the valley of Graves. I come from Kashmir which was called Earth’s Heaven and yet I come from Kashmir which now is the World’s Biggest Prison. I come from Kashmir where Chinars paint the autumn gold and I come from Kashmir where every spring, new tombstones unfold. I come from Kashmir where Dal Lake mirrors the moon’s glow and I come from Kashmir where blood taints the rivers’ flow. I come from Kashmir where children dream of books and play and I come from Kashmir where childhoods vanish in smoke and clay. I come from Kashmir where lovers once whispered in gardens wide and yet I come from Kashmir where silence now walks side by side. I come from Kashmir where poets wrote of love and fate and yet I come from Kashmir where verses now carry only weight. I come from Kashmir which history books fail to define and I come from Kashmir which lives between the headlines’ lines.
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56
You came to me like a star. Bold and bright and untouchable. And you gave me the night sky, like nothing I had ever known before. The crescent moon and the Milky Way, constellations innumerable, possibilities vast and limitless. You held my hand and showed me how to fly. My very own boy who would never grow up; you said “to live would be an awfully big adventure,” and I held your hand and never let you go. For every fight we ever had, for every letter you ever wrote, we were summer’s children, laughing and drinking in the dark. And when every rain came down, we ran to that pink house and waited out the storm. And now every time it rains, I still remember every word. I still dream of every kiss. I still get butterflies. You and me down by the water. Close your eyes and kiss me. I still believe in fairies and pirates and Indian braves. I still wait at my window for you to come and fly me away. I can’t erase the dreams we had, the words we said at dawn. For all the plans we laid, the promises we made and, in spite of everything, the price we had to pay. And now every time it rains, every thunderstorm, every firework. Every shot of whiskey, every pool cue, every bar stool. You’re still here with me, the voice inside my head. So don’t waste your time on me. I won’t defeat these shadows. I wish I could fly across the ocean, thousands of miles. Like a ghost, a shadow. Just to see that smile, just to tell you, I got Seattle on my horizon. And now every time it rains, I still remember every word. I still dream of every kiss. I still get butterflies. You and me down by the water. Close your eyes and kiss me.
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Aug 23, 2012
Aug 23, 2012 at 9:43 AM UTC
Seattle
You came to me like a star. Bold and bright and untouchable. And you gave me the night sky, like nothing I had ever known before. The crescent moon and the Milky Way, constellations innumerable, possibilities vast and limitless. You held my hand and showed me how to fly. My very own boy who would never grow up; you said “to live would be an awfully big adventure,” and I held your hand and never let you go. For every fight we ever had, for every letter you ever wrote, we were summer’s children, laughing and drinking in the dark. And when every rain came down, we ran to that pink house and waited out the storm. And now every time it rains, I still remember every word. I still dream of every kiss. I still get butterflies. You and me down by the water. Close your eyes and kiss me. I still believe in fairies and pirates and Indian braves. I still wait at my window for you to come and fly me away. I can’t erase the dreams we had, the words we said at dawn. For all the plans we laid, the promises we made and, in spite of everything, the price we had to pay. And now every time it rains, every thunderstorm, every firework. Every shot of whiskey, every pool cue, every bar stool. You’re still here with me, the voice inside my head. So don’t waste your time on me. I won’t defeat these shadows. I wish I could fly across the ocean, thousands of miles. Like a ghost, a shadow. Just to see that smile, just to tell you, I got Seattle on my horizon. And now every time it rains, I still remember every word. I still dream of every kiss. I still get butterflies. You and me down by the water. Close your eyes and kiss me.
Continue reading...
7