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"chatted" poems
"There are no words to describe how I feel." That is one of the most common phrases ever used. But it is true and so is "I love you." From the day I first talked to you I knew there was something. The first time I video chatted with you I had a certain kind of feeling. Something that I never felt before. Everyone always says they know what love is but you never really know until you have met the one. I fell for you the first time we talked. I started falling in love at first video chat. I fell in love with you before I knew what was going on. You had my heart on an Un-breakable chain that was tied to yours. The day I met you in person the butterflies could have carried me away. I carried the biggest smile on my face with nerves hidden behind it. My nerves where sky high. You where perfect. You were hot! You were smart. You were funny. You made me smile. We were in love! When you asked me to be your wife I started to cry. Happy tears. Our life together was just beginning. We were in love and everyone knew it! I wake up in the morning with a huge smile. The butterflies still lifting me up. You are perfect. You are hot smart kind and funny. You are laying next to me! I hold you close. I am never letting you go. I love you.
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Apr 23, 2016
Apr 23, 2016 at 2:56 AM UTC
The love of my life
yesterday i saw dolphins i swam with dolphins their black knife jackknife dorsal-whatevers slicing the water, scalpels into flesh, disappearing, reappearing, disappearing, reappearing a herd of silent Lamborghini cracking jokes at my expense (looks plural to me) yesterday i saw dolphins i chatted with an old man who said they're laughing all the time, diving for ******* "Oh yeah, we get dolphins here," he might as well tell me Jesus lives there, too or some kind of black magic came through making these creatures appear his nonchalance is weird yesterday i swam with dolphins well, saw, not swam, viewed, not caressed but all i want to do is see them all i want to do is breathe with them all i want to do is float in the same sea with them my heart ripped to pieces in appreciation
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Apr 16, 2014
Apr 16, 2014 at 11:29 AM UTC
Untitled
Lovebirds An old man sat with patience On the bench he waited for her He smiled sweetly on her appearance Hand in hand they walked together. In the garden full of greens The lovebirds chatted with laughter As if they were in movie scenes The way they looked at each other. He stroke her hair gently Her hair clip he'd bought years ago Still intact she placed it neatly That is the little pink flamingo. Pleasant breeze they enjoyed As they continued walking Her fragile nature shivered In her thin floral dress clothing. He took off his outer layer shirt Naturally putting it on her shoulders She joked about wearing a skirt He thought she was full of wonders. He recalled her bravery She reminisced his sacrifices They've come far in life's journey Counting their little happiness. As I watched from a distance I felt a pinch of sweet jealousy Witnessing true love's existence Yet wishing them to stay as lovely.
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Aug 24, 2018
Aug 24, 2018 at 9:45 AM UTC
Lovebirds
I've known an extraordinary lady,                 'Cause I wrote poems in HP,                                                         Well, I thank HP a lot,                                                 That I have the opportunity,                                        To know a person like her!                 And found out  we have the same nationality, Not only that, she write these exceptional and amazing poems!!           I was overwhelmed!                 And blithesomely chatted her,                             She replied, We have a good talk,                  I was so broken into splinters those times,              I could hardly remember the throe,         But her words glare brightest in my heart, She inspired me,          With the hurting truth,                    Well, I knew truth hurts, Then we always chat,     We exchange phone numbers,                  And texting even not in HP, 'Cause I knew she is so much busy, But I'm still texting her telling,                      "I'M SO GLAD TO BE Your FRIEND." And that, "Ohayou Gozaimasu, konnichiwa & konnbanwa"              "Kiotsukete kudasai Roan-chan!" Oh yeah!            We love Japan, and their language,                  That made me love her even more.                        (Love as friend okay?!)     We exchange google+ & fb,         And saw her angelic face,             Scattering over her timeline,                  I saw a beautiful soul,                        Dancing and gleaming inside of her,       She's indeed a very good friend,                              When I have heartaches and tribulations,                                      I share her my pain and sorrows, She's like the sun in the noon time,                   Heating me up with her love and care,                     But even though I have not met her personally,                 I knew for sure that I'm so much blessed,             To know such a golden spirit,                               Such rare being in the amidst, And I do knew,                              That God will lead us together,                          To spend time personally as friends, Together with Ma'am Sally,                         As what she told me,           "We should have this ~poetess date~ " How I long for that day! I really pray to God,                       *That He will give you,                          The best of the life,*    *Give you good health,           To continue enjoying life to it's fullest,* *To have many more birthdays to come,                  For you to see more,       Of the beauty of God's creation,*                             *And to find,                      That very right man,             That your heart longs to find,                 For quiet elongated time.* *I pray also,           That you will remain,                  To be light to all people,*             *And be that very good friend, Everyone longs for,* In this beautiful day,                    I pray you will be the happiest person alive,                             And celebrate this marvelous day,                                           God had given you.       "Maligayang Kaarawan Aking Kaibigan."                    © Earl Jane                             ♥ E.J.C.S.
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Jul 7, 2015
Jul 7, 2015 at 7:44 PM UTC
Otanjōbi Omedetō Gozaimasu, ROAN-CHAN!
I've known an extraordinary lady,                 'Cause I wrote poems in HP,                                                         Well, I thank HP a lot,                                                 That I have the opportunity,                                        To know a person like her!                 And found out  we have the same nationality, Not only that, she write these exceptional and amazing poems!!           I was overwhelmed!                 And blithesomely chatted her,                             She replied, We have a good talk,                  I was so broken into splinters those times,              I could hardly remember the throe,         But her words glare brightest in my heart, She inspired me,          With the hurting truth,                    Well, I knew truth hurts, Then we always chat,     We exchange phone numbers,                  And texting even not in HP, 'Cause I knew she is so much busy, But I'm still texting her telling,                      "I'M SO GLAD TO BE Your FRIEND." And that, "Ohayou Gozaimasu, konnichiwa & konnbanwa"              "Kiotsukete kudasai Roan-chan!" Oh yeah!            We love Japan, and their language,                  That made me love her even more.                        (Love as friend okay?!)     We exchange google+ & fb,         And saw her angelic face,             Scattering over her timeline,                  I saw a beautiful soul,                        Dancing and gleaming inside of her,       She's indeed a very good friend,                              When I have heartaches and tribulations,                                      I share her my pain and sorrows, She's like the sun in the noon time,                   Heating me up with her love and care,                     But even though I have not met her personally,                 I knew for sure that I'm so much blessed,             To know such a golden spirit,                               Such rare being in the amidst, And I do knew,                              That God will lead us together,                          To spend time personally as friends, Together with Ma'am Sally,                         As what she told me,           "We should have this ~poetess date~ " How I long for that day! I really pray to God,                       *That He will give you,                          The best of the life,*    *Give you good health,           To continue enjoying life to it's fullest,* *To have many more birthdays to come,                  For you to see more,       Of the beauty of God's creation,*                             *And to find,                      That very right man,             That your heart longs to find,                 For quiet elongated time.* *I pray also,           That you will remain,                  To be light to all people,*             *And be that very good friend, Everyone longs for,* In this beautiful day,                    I pray you will be the happiest person alive,                             And celebrate this marvelous day,                                           God had given you.       "Maligayang Kaarawan Aking Kaibigan."                    © Earl Jane                             ♥ E.J.C.S.
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76
You stopped to say hey, but then you must, you were with friends so you just, what? You must what? We chatted before, no friends, lust? What? You lust what? You can't be true to you! So what of me? Disgust or lust? Poetry by Kaydee.
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Aug 6, 2018
Aug 6, 2018 at 12:47 PM UTC
I am the Fine Line.
I once rode the city bus in New Orleans To rest my feet and see the town A couple minutes in a young boy boarded Took the seat across from me and sat down **** Love" was tattooed across his knuckles Our eyes met and he looked at me knowing And I just smiled and looked away Abruptly, he asked where I was going I told him I wanted to explore the city He told me to steer clear of certain places And told me which roads were safe That some areas are dangerous for girls with pretty pale faces We chatted for a while longer And when we reached his stop he bid me farewell I smiled and told him goodbye Little did he know he gave me a grand story to tell And I tell it frequently My brief meeting with **** love boy He gave me a memory to look on When I need some joy I'll always remember People aren't always what they seem And think of **** love boy That I met in New Orleans
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Jun 23, 2014
Jun 23, 2014 at 3:47 AM UTC
**** love"
On the prom, in chairs of similar design actors, support artists and crew. Chatted in between takes as the sun shone around the The Cafe' television set. In a seaside town they each came together that day it was unsettled weather. The atmosphere was friendly nobody left out congenial conversation not forced. That created the mood for a great shoot as a new comedy series was made. On the seafront with a train ride there passers by were everywhere. Actors were also rehearsing another scene under a canopy while it rained. Fascinated I watched and laughed as well feeling part of that moment. In this privileged spot to observe first hand by the sea close to the sand. The Foureyed Poet.
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Jul 26, 2011
Jul 26, 2011 at 4:17 AM UTC
On The Prom
I dated two robots yesterdays Both were programmed to service me well We did things In the same good old learned order of doing things And after sunset we kissed at the beach With one - our feet touching With the other - our view inviting the rush of salty waves Alas Both robots could suddenly not speak One even bluffed he had a virus in throat AI intelligence?! jaa ha ha The other was hanging just with With variations of what do you feels Tell me your fantasy s ‘Don't think tell me whatever comes first’ s And I believe And I say But Mine is what he can't understand His’ is I think a drink on the beach But unfortunately I don't drink Using coconut biotica only These days Ahhahhaa ... While they chatted so well! Without any error of a word to spell! … I dated two robots yesterday That sighed only to say I can't believe I am holding yous How much I missed yous Hugging robots Vibrating robots Robots with small mouth and twister tongue Ready to penetrate into mine at a slightest chance of an opening A disguised disgust of my sincere failure not towards the robot but myself Hiding you still under my palate from where the soma of your love drips Now as if forcefully been replaced to a taste of this preprogrammed chatalike Have they lost their voice because of my best dress or maybe the fantasy of the sandy bikini which they will never see in the dark wherein Both hiding their face But I see By my loose body parts Maybe a lookalike But I ain't no robot Oh my sandy bikini Oh Chosen so carefully To rejuvenate their fantasy a different pattern for each- yes. I do take care of that! Stays now as an Everly Brothers’ dream In my mind only But My ‘okey ‘ is an ensuring ‘yes yes’ the Indian way Of course They did their best Seriously Thus A big CHAPEAU For the zest That obviously still can break china hearts I took it as a test To get to know me better Let me be broken through your dream Let me cry and shake and perceive an angry cloudy color world let my remains of china burst I dated two robots yesterdays while expecting for a man Thankfully though these are yesterdays Today I met a true man A gypsy We will date sometime Play tabla and darbuka Drink dance and sing And sleep To salute the sun early in the morning At the beach
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Jan 17, 2016
Jan 17, 2016 at 2:58 AM UTC
I dated two robots yesterdays
I dated two robots yesterdays Both were programmed to service me well We did things In the same good old learned order of doing things And after sunset we kissed at the beach With one - our feet touching With the other - our view inviting the rush of salty waves Alas Both robots could suddenly not speak One even bluffed he had a virus in throat AI intelligence?! jaa ha ha The other was hanging just with With variations of what do you feels Tell me your fantasy s ‘Don't think tell me whatever comes first’ s And I believe And I say But Mine is what he can't understand His’ is I think a drink on the beach But unfortunately I don't drink Using coconut biotica only These days Ahhahhaa ... While they chatted so well! Without any error of a word to spell! … I dated two robots yesterday That sighed only to say I can't believe I am holding yous How much I missed yous Hugging robots Vibrating robots Robots with small mouth and twister tongue Ready to penetrate into mine at a slightest chance of an opening A disguised disgust of my sincere failure not towards the robot but myself Hiding you still under my palate from where the soma of your love drips Now as if forcefully been replaced to a taste of this preprogrammed chatalike Have they lost their voice because of my best dress or maybe the fantasy of the sandy bikini which they will never see in the dark wherein Both hiding their face But I see By my loose body parts Maybe a lookalike But I ain't no robot Oh my sandy bikini Oh Chosen so carefully To rejuvenate their fantasy a different pattern for each- yes. I do take care of that! Stays now as an Everly Brothers’ dream In my mind only But My ‘okey ‘ is an ensuring ‘yes yes’ the Indian way Of course They did their best Seriously Thus A big CHAPEAU For the zest That obviously still can break china hearts I took it as a test To get to know me better Let me be broken through your dream Let me cry and shake and perceive an angry cloudy color world let my remains of china burst I dated two robots yesterdays while expecting for a man Thankfully though these are yesterdays Today I met a true man A gypsy We will date sometime Play tabla and darbuka Drink dance and sing And sleep To salute the sun early in the morning At the beach
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103
He moved away in 5th grade A few towns down Never saw him or heard of him after that until the news. Taught me how to write my number 9's Fancy like they did in the text book We joked about movies we liked in 3rd grade But he was hit by a car and killed at age 13 1/3 of our middle school hung our heads like a rusty sign on a graveyard gate and the other 2/3 chatted about not knowing him All he is known for now is his ending The news advertised his life as "Hit by a car and died" The obituary sums him up but only we know the real him and what lies behind that title
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May 28, 2014
May 28, 2014 at 8:09 PM UTC
Shayne
I wove my own web and netted my prize, I cold-pressed my words and refined my disguise. I goggled at life and faced up to that book, I tumbled and tweeted and baited my hook. I blipped and I blogged, I bantered and blushed, I followed and friended, I grovelled and gushed. I doled out the instant, ten grams at a time, To fuel my addiction for caffeine and rhyme. I reshopped my pic, I swiped left, I swiped right, I pinned and I posted deep into the night. I gloated and gossiped, I chatted and cheered, I logged in and logged out without favour or fear. For is it not fun - this mad media storm? Viewing and voting from dusk until dawn. Yet love me or like me, let it never be said, That despite how it seems, it’s gone to my head.
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Dec 22, 2018
Dec 22, 2018 at 6:17 PM UTC
Media Storm
Saturday afternoon cycling up a 1in 6 hill then along the road toward the farmhouse you dismounted and laid your bike against the fence and waited to get your breath back the farmhouse door opened and Mrs Putt came out and said Jim and Pete are out I’m afraid her daughter Monica appeared by her side they’ve gone out with their older brother Monica said ok you said tell them I called sure I will Mrs Putt said I can go on a bike ride with you if you like Monica said Benedict won’t want to have you to drag along with him Mrs Putt said Monica pulled a face and pouted her lips I don’t mind you said better than riding alone well if you don’t mind Mrs Putt said mind you behave yourself young lady she said and went indoors and closed the door just get my bike Monica said and went back behind the farmhouse you looked around the farmhouse and the surrounding fields and trees and waited after a few moments she was back riding her bike toward you where we going? she asked lets go see the peacocks along Sedge lane you said and so you got on your bike and off you both rode she beside you in her summery dress and sandals with her brown hair tied in bunches you in jeans and open neck white shirt the sun bright and hot above you the birds flying and calling the clouds puffy and white I’ve always wanted to go bike riding with you Monica said but the boys don’t let me but I am now you nodded and smiled wondering Jim and Pete would say if they knew she’d got to go bike riding with you she chatted on about Elvis and the film in town and how she’d like to go but no one would take her and how her brothers teased her and her mother nagged her after a while you came to the peacocks in a wire cage by a large house just off the lane aren’t they beautiful? she said peering through the wire her fingers holding on to the cage standing beside you yes they are you said but of course the **** bird has the beauty the hen is just dull and ordinary odd that she said wonder why? don’t know you said I’m not dull and ordinary am I? she asked looking at you sideways on no you said you have your own beauty do I? yes you do and she blushed and looked away and the peacock called out and moved off opening its colourfulness and Monica did a twirl making the patterns move on her twirling dress.
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Apr 7, 2013
Apr 7, 2013 at 2:42 PM UTC
HER OWN KIND OF BEAUTY.
Saturday afternoon cycling up a 1in 6 hill then along the road toward the farmhouse you dismounted and laid your bike against the fence and waited to get your breath back the farmhouse door opened and Mrs Putt came out and said Jim and Pete are out I’m afraid her daughter Monica appeared by her side they’ve gone out with their older brother Monica said ok you said tell them I called sure I will Mrs Putt said I can go on a bike ride with you if you like Monica said Benedict won’t want to have you to drag along with him Mrs Putt said Monica pulled a face and pouted her lips I don’t mind you said better than riding alone well if you don’t mind Mrs Putt said mind you behave yourself young lady she said and went indoors and closed the door just get my bike Monica said and went back behind the farmhouse you looked around the farmhouse and the surrounding fields and trees and waited after a few moments she was back riding her bike toward you where we going? she asked lets go see the peacocks along Sedge lane you said and so you got on your bike and off you both rode she beside you in her summery dress and sandals with her brown hair tied in bunches you in jeans and open neck white shirt the sun bright and hot above you the birds flying and calling the clouds puffy and white I’ve always wanted to go bike riding with you Monica said but the boys don’t let me but I am now you nodded and smiled wondering Jim and Pete would say if they knew she’d got to go bike riding with you she chatted on about Elvis and the film in town and how she’d like to go but no one would take her and how her brothers teased her and her mother nagged her after a while you came to the peacocks in a wire cage by a large house just off the lane aren’t they beautiful? she said peering through the wire her fingers holding on to the cage standing beside you yes they are you said but of course the **** bird has the beauty the hen is just dull and ordinary odd that she said wonder why? don’t know you said I’m not dull and ordinary am I? she asked looking at you sideways on no you said you have your own beauty do I? yes you do and she blushed and looked away and the peacock called out and moved off opening its colourfulness and Monica did a twirl making the patterns move on her twirling dress.
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136
One day a bee Was flying happily By a meadow curiously He saw a sunflower Shone brightly Bewitched he flew closer To the beautiful splendor Of which was simply was An elegant little flower They chatted all day With no obstacles in their way Until night came Then everything changed The peculiar flower had to go But with no goodbye to go She just closed up where she was And not a single stop or pause Sadly, the bee left Leaving the flower he just met Thinking to himself that time I'll try harder next time
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Nov 23, 2016
Nov 23, 2016 at 9:54 AM UTC
Sunflower and the Bee
You proposed when we were 6. I never forgot you. We dated when we were 17. I blew you in a park. You blew my mind and my heart away. We drifted into separate lives when we went away to college but dad never gave me the messages. Now you're married unhappily. 5 years of fantasizing about me. You found me on social media. We've chatted for months. Yesterday, you told me about the dreams-- the ones I haunt. You tell me your dirtiest thoughts. You tell me about the pedestal you where I reside; I could never live up to your fantasy. And I don't want to. I've thought about you my entire life. I gave it up when I found out you were married. Then you found me. Now you're in my head. I'm the unwilling mistress of your mind. I never injected myself there. So why do I feel so guilty? I want your friendship. You still make me laugh. This isn't fair. There's nothing in it for me. You have everything to lose. How did this become my ***** little secret? Why did you have to get married? Why can't you get a divorce? Why can't I quit you?
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Oct 18, 2012
Oct 18, 2012 at 7:24 PM UTC
Letter to my childhood sweetheart
four years ago my freshman year i met a boy with dark blue eyes who added me on myspace and chatted with me on aim he didn't really speak to me or ask me any questions he only knew what he did because i talk so much and somehow we started dating which i still don't understand why because after the first week i had a feeling in my gut that i would regret this in the long run. we felt the high and the ecstasy of first love along with first everything else including betrayal and agony the only kind you can feel when someone you thought you love does something so so awful to you. the first winter we were happy i think and we made plans for next year that we broke the majority of and in the summer we made promises some that i shouldn't have a year had passed and i thought i would be spending a few more with him but that winter i learned that love can grow cold and freeze over maybe i had changed too much or it was him belittling me telling me that everything i liked was childish and a waste of time. the next year i had decided that that would be all i would put up with i did not deserve this grief or to be told that i was too easy. a friend that morning had spoken with me and him and walked with us through the halls of the beginning of our junior year and when we were alone the friend said to me 'your eyes look so dead' and i will never forget those words or forget his cries on the phone that night when i finally set myself free
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Nov 5, 2012
Nov 5, 2012 at 6:14 PM UTC
survive
I smiled And you smiled back At times We laughed hard As Usual But hope this feeling is mutual We chatted Like we used to Seem acted You're in the movie too Unusual But hope this feeling is mutual You speak With your eyes in silence While I breath Yet my heart is quiet Unfactual But hope this feeling is mutual You loved In privy I love to be loved More lively To be factual Hoping this feeling is mutual
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Jun 18, 2022
Jun 18, 2022 at 4:57 AM UTC
Mutually Unusual
the night was already crazy-wild by the time we arrived at Jarred's pool. he had a big house but we never went in 4 teens, teen dream, a dream team; but I knew deep down just what it was we snuck out for. a "transform-optional" rite, this hollow night. but I still had doubts... as Jarred offered me an aluminum can of something and I nervously said, "no thank you", the moon had proudly jut out he had a big house but we never went in. I hadn't noticed, without the moonlight, just how sharp Jarred's teeth and fingernails were. canines, ivory & sporadic. looking at me I hadn't noticed how reptilian our 2 friends were The fangs and dislocating jaws, tendrils & scales. Man-o-war for a head, giant earthworm for an arm She looked scarier than he. Those 2 went at each other in a murderous way A blood sport of sorts. Confusing to me. She spread her jaws wide - a parachute with teeth And bit down hard between his legs. Blood everywhere. Blood spattered on her face She looked ****** god-awful by then. The meat of his dead body then re-animated And assimilated with hers. Anabiosis + Differentiate Jarred, a werewolf or something like it, approached me. He had a big house but we never went in. we chatted poolside for a while he'd go harmoniously from monster to human, human to monster. Boiling cancerous growths under his fur Grew angry eyes that glared at me. clawhand on the back of my neck, he went in for a kiss (or a bite) with a puckered face and bared teeth. This is it. I finally felt a grossness so profound that I, without thinking, jumped in the pool to splish-splash, cool, to escape, whatever I opened my eyes and just floated there for a bit. hanging in the stillness trying to forget those alien freaks staring up at the moon from the bottom of a pool.
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Aug 21, 2012
Aug 21, 2012 at 10:33 PM UTC
Jump In the Pool
the night was already crazy-wild by the time we arrived at Jarred's pool. he had a big house but we never went in 4 teens, teen dream, a dream team; but I knew deep down just what it was we snuck out for. a "transform-optional" rite, this hollow night. but I still had doubts... as Jarred offered me an aluminum can of something and I nervously said, "no thank you", the moon had proudly jut out he had a big house but we never went in. I hadn't noticed, without the moonlight, just how sharp Jarred's teeth and fingernails were. canines, ivory & sporadic. looking at me I hadn't noticed how reptilian our 2 friends were The fangs and dislocating jaws, tendrils & scales. Man-o-war for a head, giant earthworm for an arm She looked scarier than he. Those 2 went at each other in a murderous way A blood sport of sorts. Confusing to me. She spread her jaws wide - a parachute with teeth And bit down hard between his legs. Blood everywhere. Blood spattered on her face She looked ****** god-awful by then. The meat of his dead body then re-animated And assimilated with hers. Anabiosis + Differentiate Jarred, a werewolf or something like it, approached me. He had a big house but we never went in. we chatted poolside for a while he'd go harmoniously from monster to human, human to monster. Boiling cancerous growths under his fur Grew angry eyes that glared at me. clawhand on the back of my neck, he went in for a kiss (or a bite) with a puckered face and bared teeth. This is it. I finally felt a grossness so profound that I, without thinking, jumped in the pool to splish-splash, cool, to escape, whatever I opened my eyes and just floated there for a bit. hanging in the stillness trying to forget those alien freaks staring up at the moon from the bottom of a pool.
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*je pense bien à toi (i think well of you) Have not chatted in awhile, me rutted in NYC, a city of constant tear down and sometimes flashy urban human renewal... While you, you getting on with life, growing up, growing down, buying clothes for a new school season, or growing children, or boxing up now grandchildren memories of memories... falling in love, writing poetry all about it... You, in Nepal, Malaysia, India, Seattle, Portland, and the Florida's panhandle, the US Midwest sainted hinterlands, the South, that makes one love water, water that has travelled from the faraway, island continent of professorial Australia, Did I forget the Philippines? worse sin committed, is that in your poetry I have not toe dipped, quite the long erstwhile, after loving it with obsession devotion... so just a Saturday afternoon note penned just to you and you alone... je pense bien à toi (i think well of you) So by way of apology, craft a poem for you exclusive, more than each word, letter, every syllable, tongue tasted for conjuctivity, breadth and thus discovered notes of red soil, raspberry, lemon, even a hint of sweet masquerading as a salty kindness in our veins, our unique vintage of connectivity Your hand to my lips raised, grasped twice, by mine both, slow lifting with stature, affection and respect, kiss it and whisper just enough for we two to hear... je pense bien à toi (i think well of you) even this seems weakly insufficient, but care taken nowadays, a new economy of words, write less, think more, and give up the truly deserved words only as a mark of my fondness and respect these come on no schedule, often months in the making, so forgive-me-not my unsweetened silences, accept them with easy knowing that je pense bien à toi (i think well of you) the summer man wintered in discontent, his journey now disrupted by forces exogenous, stealing his vision, jailing him in between walls of indecision, knocking down his own twin towers, but carelessly not making provision to tell you well and often enough je pense bien à toi (i think well of you)* Sept. 13, 2014
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Sep 13, 2014
Sep 13, 2014 at 3:10 PM UTC
je pense bien à toi (i think well of you)
*je pense bien à toi (i think well of you) Have not chatted in awhile, me rutted in NYC, a city of constant tear down and sometimes flashy urban human renewal... While you, you getting on with life, growing up, growing down, buying clothes for a new school season, or growing children, or boxing up now grandchildren memories of memories... falling in love, writing poetry all about it... You, in Nepal, Malaysia, India, Seattle, Portland, and the Florida's panhandle, the US Midwest sainted hinterlands, the South, that makes one love water, water that has travelled from the faraway, island continent of professorial Australia, Did I forget the Philippines? worse sin committed, is that in your poetry I have not toe dipped, quite the long erstwhile, after loving it with obsession devotion... so just a Saturday afternoon note penned just to you and you alone... je pense bien à toi (i think well of you) So by way of apology, craft a poem for you exclusive, more than each word, letter, every syllable, tongue tasted for conjuctivity, breadth and thus discovered notes of red soil, raspberry, lemon, even a hint of sweet masquerading as a salty kindness in our veins, our unique vintage of connectivity Your hand to my lips raised, grasped twice, by mine both, slow lifting with stature, affection and respect, kiss it and whisper just enough for we two to hear... je pense bien à toi (i think well of you) even this seems weakly insufficient, but care taken nowadays, a new economy of words, write less, think more, and give up the truly deserved words only as a mark of my fondness and respect these come on no schedule, often months in the making, so forgive-me-not my unsweetened silences, accept them with easy knowing that je pense bien à toi (i think well of you) the summer man wintered in discontent, his journey now disrupted by forces exogenous, stealing his vision, jailing him in between walls of indecision, knocking down his own twin towers, but carelessly not making provision to tell you well and often enough je pense bien à toi (i think well of you)* Sept. 13, 2014
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There have been countless times Where we've voice chatted And I laughed and you called it cute. And I found myself enjoying it. I liked it whenever I sounded like that Whenever I sounded different, feminine. And I began to dislike hearing my normal laugh. It felt odd to me. A thought popped into my head. A desire to experiment. And once I did it, I felt even weirder about myself. Then the questions started. You pointed things out, and called me an egg. Not that I minded. Still, the questions remained, and I felt strange. There was a sadness that I couldn't place. Excuses were made. Like how I didn't feel a 'certain way' Whenever I tried on those clothes again. It had to be something ****** It just had to. But I started to not react in that way anymore. And I kind of liked wearing them. So then the questions returned. And I didn't know what to think. In the end, while I still have these questions. I think it's okay to have them. And even though I'm uncertain about myself I'll continue on until I find who I am.
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Jul 8, 2019
Jul 8, 2019 at 1:15 AM UTC
questions
We met by chance. We chatted. We became virtual friends. We become good virtual friends. We remembered each other likes. We learnt from each other. We inspired each other. We read each other's thoughts being anon. We spoke a little in person and much online. We feared of eye contact in public. We thought 10 times to make a phone call. We argued sometimes. We chose a different path. We chatted once in a blue moon. We wrote mail, 2 times a year, on each other's birthday. We lost contacts. We are strangers now. We still hope and want the other shall be doing great and being happy. Friendship,  virtual friendship.
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Aug 15, 2016
Aug 15, 2016 at 3:51 AM UTC
To a Virtual Friend
*sense is seen when scents on scene* 1. jaunty-laddie walked and grabbed the sun out the sky hid it leisurely in his back-pocket while the candy jumped out the sweet-jar and the farmer fed the dog to the food 2. an elm-tree nearby coughed nervously at the encroaching-air as the letterbox chatted lively to the ivy-hedge the wind popped by and whistled out a papery-sigh that the clouds caught and flung into a blue swing-lasso 3. working out moves in ab-struck-shin sweaters and jumpers at the local gym got all scratchy and went on strike to protest against the über-cool fridge and gravity took a break and we all flew a way..! woof-woof   S T - 26th of October, is it?
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Oct 26, 2013
Oct 26, 2013 at 7:59 AM UTC
ab-struck-shin
i couldn't stand the heat, spent most of the time in the shade, everyone made fun of the guy standing by the pool reading a book, pretending to be a sundial; i was called the whiskey-man; one night i slept outside and by the time i woke up my glass of brandy disappeared; mingled with the "auctioneers" of a good time; boy one of those kenyan girls was hot... oomph, she looked like oiled coal, slimy bits and raw *** i know i was a tourist... played a stupid drinking game with two english girls, snogged one at the end of the game, wasn't invited back to the room for a ********* spent hours at night looking at the tide splashing the shore, cried at the painting so alive all the museums and galleries became graveyards of appreciation; it was a holiday resort, i admit, although one bartender asked me to do a local tour of the place, go clubbing, supposedly a colonial ******* i was upon first reading; but the heat though! god almighty, couldn't stand the temperature, i was literally an ice-cream cone most of the time, took to the shades, wrote a short story for my grandfather about an elephant dunking his trunk into a bottle of brandy... one day got chatting to a scottish pair and a russian couple, told the scottish guy about travis' 12 memories album, i was originally asking for a cigarette, so we drank and chatted about mickey mouse politics of america... the scottish guy eventually ran off and jumped into the kids' shallow pool veering on blind-drunk-happy... another time i too jumped into a pool with my clothes on... ******* this heat... ha, hmm, those kenyan macaques were funny esp. on prompt of being fed on the balcony... but boy that baboon was a menace, a real anarchist, charged in like a donkey with meningitis and stole food... although one baboon had massive haemorrhoids... and given his fat pinky *** it was even funnier to watch. oh yeah, and this guy muhammad wanted to take me to a crocodile sanctuary of his... i sort of refused the invitation, and no, i didn't go on the zoological escapade of a safari to see the Masai tribesmen... just gave c. g. jung's modern man in search of soul to one of the caretakers of the resort.
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Mar 26, 2016
Mar 26, 2016 at 7:43 AM UTC
while in kenya
i couldn't stand the heat, spent most of the time in the shade, everyone made fun of the guy standing by the pool reading a book, pretending to be a sundial; i was called the whiskey-man; one night i slept outside and by the time i woke up my glass of brandy disappeared; mingled with the "auctioneers" of a good time; boy one of those kenyan girls was hot... oomph, she looked like oiled coal, slimy bits and raw *** i know i was a tourist... played a stupid drinking game with two english girls, snogged one at the end of the game, wasn't invited back to the room for a ********* spent hours at night looking at the tide splashing the shore, cried at the painting so alive all the museums and galleries became graveyards of appreciation; it was a holiday resort, i admit, although one bartender asked me to do a local tour of the place, go clubbing, supposedly a colonial ******* i was upon first reading; but the heat though! god almighty, couldn't stand the temperature, i was literally an ice-cream cone most of the time, took to the shades, wrote a short story for my grandfather about an elephant dunking his trunk into a bottle of brandy... one day got chatting to a scottish pair and a russian couple, told the scottish guy about travis' 12 memories album, i was originally asking for a cigarette, so we drank and chatted about mickey mouse politics of america... the scottish guy eventually ran off and jumped into the kids' shallow pool veering on blind-drunk-happy... another time i too jumped into a pool with my clothes on... ******* this heat... ha, hmm, those kenyan macaques were funny esp. on prompt of being fed on the balcony... but boy that baboon was a menace, a real anarchist, charged in like a donkey with meningitis and stole food... although one baboon had massive haemorrhoids... and given his fat pinky *** it was even funnier to watch. oh yeah, and this guy muhammad wanted to take me to a crocodile sanctuary of his... i sort of refused the invitation, and no, i didn't go on the zoological escapade of a safari to see the Masai tribesmen... just gave c. g. jung's modern man in search of soul to one of the caretakers of the resort.
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509 If anybody’s friend be dead It’s sharpest of the theme The thinking how they walked alive— At such and such a time— Their costume, of a Sunday, Some manner of the Hair— A prank nobody knew but them Lost, in the Sepulchre— How warm, they were, on such a day, You almost feel the date— So short way off it seems— And now—they’re Centuries from that— How pleased they were, at what you said— You try to touch the smile And dip your fingers in the frost— When was it—Can you tell— You asked the Company to tea— Acquaintance—just a few— And chatted close with this Grand Thing That don’t remember you— Past Bows, and Invitations— Past Interview, and Vow— Past what Ourself can estimate— That—makes the Quick of Woe!
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2k
If anybody’s friend be dead
this girl I know who always wears summer dresses and a smile lent me a book on awareness but wants it back before she goes to work in a conflict zone for the red cross in september she travelled in a big red bus to a surfers festival in donegal where she worked in the big red bus café on her breaks she surfed smoked loads of **** listened to reggae and ate falafel last Wednesday she received a back payment from the social welfare and felt guilty about it so she donated half of it to charity bought donkeys for three Ethiopian families spent a small fortune on ingredients for a friends dinner and paid for my vegetable soup she stopped at a chocolatier to buy one solitary chocolate and then ate it hurriedly while she chatted to a circus guy she knew about a party she had missed when she was on the big red bus while skimming through books in the spirituality section wearing her summer dress and a smile she said she felt sick from having eaten the chocolate too quickly and was sad that she hadn’t taken the time to enjoy it today the red cross sent her for a chest x-ray
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Mar 16, 2013
Mar 16, 2013 at 11:14 AM UTC
today the red cross sent her for a chest x-ray
So what if I have squint Or money I don’t mint I know my eyes blink a lot Or most of the tasks I just forgot What is the matter if I am a buffoon Or my life is much more doomed I know I hue and cry Or talking to chicks I’m a bit too shy To those who understand I extend my hand To the doubtful I demand take me as I am not under your control I know where I stand Won’t change to suit your plan Take me as I am From childhood I did what you said From waking up to going to bed I am sorry I missed that one mark for DU' Now don’t look down at me in dread I deserve that seat more than that OBC" guy Or the seat that rich dad did buy Sorry I could not prove your expectation Courses are full, don’t worry ill do animation I’m facing blasphemies of life I’ll write satires on Modi or the wife To those who understand I extend my hand To the doubtful I demand take me as I am not under your control I know where I stand Won’t change to suit your plan Take me as I am Sitting in the dark I forget, Sweetness, sourness is all I get Everyday having the bitter pills of fate Missing the time we chatted till late We bunked periods to find solitary places to sit You asked me to love you and I did Traded my emotions for a counteract to commit Now you know my faults and have gone so far Your confessions in my name Now just give you fame What all we dreamt now and then Now you have got someone to blame To those who understand I extend my hand To the doubtful I demand take me as I am not under your control I know where I stand Won’t change to suit your plan Take me as I am I keep my secrets in my skin What all I did with innocence and ignorance Now dealing with my sins What all is left of me is in a cage To protect death from dying from my carnage I have done much, don’t expect anything from my life Let me be me, done enough truce and strife
0
Oct 9, 2014
Oct 9, 2014 at 3:59 AM UTC
AS I AM
So what if I have squint Or money I don’t mint I know my eyes blink a lot Or most of the tasks I just forgot What is the matter if I am a buffoon Or my life is much more doomed I know I hue and cry Or talking to chicks I’m a bit too shy To those who understand I extend my hand To the doubtful I demand take me as I am not under your control I know where I stand Won’t change to suit your plan Take me as I am From childhood I did what you said From waking up to going to bed I am sorry I missed that one mark for DU' Now don’t look down at me in dread I deserve that seat more than that OBC" guy Or the seat that rich dad did buy Sorry I could not prove your expectation Courses are full, don’t worry ill do animation I’m facing blasphemies of life I’ll write satires on Modi or the wife To those who understand I extend my hand To the doubtful I demand take me as I am not under your control I know where I stand Won’t change to suit your plan Take me as I am Sitting in the dark I forget, Sweetness, sourness is all I get Everyday having the bitter pills of fate Missing the time we chatted till late We bunked periods to find solitary places to sit You asked me to love you and I did Traded my emotions for a counteract to commit Now you know my faults and have gone so far Your confessions in my name Now just give you fame What all we dreamt now and then Now you have got someone to blame To those who understand I extend my hand To the doubtful I demand take me as I am not under your control I know where I stand Won’t change to suit your plan Take me as I am I keep my secrets in my skin What all I did with innocence and ignorance Now dealing with my sins What all is left of me is in a cage To protect death from dying from my carnage I have done much, don’t expect anything from my life Let me be me, done enough truce and strife
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61
i spent an hour with Laughter we chatted all the way but i barely remember a single thing from what she had to say i then spent an hour with Sorrow and ne'er a word said she but, oh, the things i learned the day that Sorrow walked with me. -anonymous
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Mar 24, 2019
Mar 24, 2019 at 10:12 AM UTC
untitled