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"competed" poems
My name is Ashly (yes spelled without the E) I was born without a windpipe and was 3 months premature. I underwent surgery for a tracheostomy and died on the operating table. I was revived. I was hooked up to many machines and my parents were told I wouldn’t live for more then 3 days... If I would survive more then 3 days I would be hooked up to machines my whole life and be in a “vegetative state” Doctors told my parents and family “I would never live to see my 18th birthday.” I lived in the hospital for almost 2 years. At age 2, I myself, ripped out my tracheostomy (which could have killed me) My family rushed me to children’s hospital and the doctors decided to let the hole in my neck close and see what happens. My doctors don’t know how I made it through the night or days after. I went home after a couple weeks and that’s when I started living my life as a “normal” child. All of my sisters were involved in dance classes, my parents( doctors didn’t agree) enrolled me in to classes. THATS WHERE MY LIFE CHANGED Dance became my passion, along with gymnastics and musical theatre. Something my family, doctors or even myself never thought I would EVER do. On my 18th birthday it was a mixture of emotions. I made a milestone that no one said I would ever see. I competed in dance and gymnastics until I was 19 years of age as well as did over 60 musicals at my local theatre company. I never thought I would ever have a boy love me because I had “too many problems” or even get married for that matter. Fast forward, I am now almost 33 ( June .11th is my birthday) Married for almost 8 years to my best friend. Happy doesn’t even cover what I feel everyday waking up next to my love. We may not have a “family” of our own but we are happy and in love over the moon with one another. So why did I just ramble on with this? Because I’m a MIRACLE and a SURVIVOR. Even though I don’t remember much from my childhood and what I and my family had to endure, I have been fighter since my first breath. I’M A SURVIVOR and I’VE MADE IT....
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Mar 18, 2018
Mar 18, 2018 at 3:09 PM UTC
I’m a SURVIVOR
My name is Ashly (yes spelled without the E) I was born without a windpipe and was 3 months premature. I underwent surgery for a tracheostomy and died on the operating table. I was revived. I was hooked up to many machines and my parents were told I wouldn’t live for more then 3 days... If I would survive more then 3 days I would be hooked up to machines my whole life and be in a “vegetative state” Doctors told my parents and family “I would never live to see my 18th birthday.” I lived in the hospital for almost 2 years. At age 2, I myself, ripped out my tracheostomy (which could have killed me) My family rushed me to children’s hospital and the doctors decided to let the hole in my neck close and see what happens. My doctors don’t know how I made it through the night or days after. I went home after a couple weeks and that’s when I started living my life as a “normal” child. All of my sisters were involved in dance classes, my parents( doctors didn’t agree) enrolled me in to classes. THATS WHERE MY LIFE CHANGED Dance became my passion, along with gymnastics and musical theatre. Something my family, doctors or even myself never thought I would EVER do. On my 18th birthday it was a mixture of emotions. I made a milestone that no one said I would ever see. I competed in dance and gymnastics until I was 19 years of age as well as did over 60 musicals at my local theatre company. I never thought I would ever have a boy love me because I had “too many problems” or even get married for that matter. Fast forward, I am now almost 33 ( June .11th is my birthday) Married for almost 8 years to my best friend. Happy doesn’t even cover what I feel everyday waking up next to my love. We may not have a “family” of our own but we are happy and in love over the moon with one another. So why did I just ramble on with this? Because I’m a MIRACLE and a SURVIVOR. Even though I don’t remember much from my childhood and what I and my family had to endure, I have been fighter since my first breath. I’M A SURVIVOR and I’VE MADE IT....
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29
/*h'americans can call it a striptease, but in amsterdam, with legal self-employed prostitutes? we call it a cocktease: because you'd really visit amsterdam for the **** these days?* isabella: the french psychology exchange student -     hung up on her ex-boyfriend - really in anime movies -       and that american i competed with on an edinburgh pub-crawl for freshers - and lost my virginity to -                   probably the only time i had the ontological parameters of your atypical man -   "hunting", competing -    oh so, so, enthralling....     (spot the irony mingling with ridicule, when people "know" how the modern man behaves, with his caveman predecessors: dragging a woman by the hair type of cartoonish depiction) - the other fun time i've had encounters with h'americans was in Soho - two colts, texan tourists asking for directions, or where this or that place was... it almost warmed my heart hearing that twang                        of the tongue... perhaps someone from arizona? that has that - "mid" western twang of the tongue                  added to the bite... snub the Boston high-mind eloquence, like:     you really really want                to sound european... never mind...    people say that water is tasteless... hmm...     so last night i was heating up one arm of scissors...                  and sniffing it... then licked the other arm of the scissor... what's in water again?    minerals... a subtle presence... magnesium, potassium, iron... you name it...    so yeah... water is... "tasteless"... eisenzahn that i am.
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Jul 25, 2018
Jul 25, 2018 at 12:04 PM UTC
water is, "tasteless" (eisenzahn)
/*h'americans can call it a striptease, but in amsterdam, with legal self-employed prostitutes? we call it a cocktease: because you'd really visit amsterdam for the **** these days?* isabella: the french psychology exchange student -     hung up on her ex-boyfriend - really in anime movies -       and that american i competed with on an edinburgh pub-crawl for freshers - and lost my virginity to -                   probably the only time i had the ontological parameters of your atypical man -   "hunting", competing -    oh so, so, enthralling....     (spot the irony mingling with ridicule, when people "know" how the modern man behaves, with his caveman predecessors: dragging a woman by the hair type of cartoonish depiction) - the other fun time i've had encounters with h'americans was in Soho - two colts, texan tourists asking for directions, or where this or that place was... it almost warmed my heart hearing that twang                        of the tongue... perhaps someone from arizona? that has that - "mid" western twang of the tongue                  added to the bite... snub the Boston high-mind eloquence, like:     you really really want                to sound european... never mind...    people say that water is tasteless... hmm...     so last night i was heating up one arm of scissors...                  and sniffing it... then licked the other arm of the scissor... what's in water again?    minerals... a subtle presence... magnesium, potassium, iron... you name it...    so yeah... water is... "tasteless"... eisenzahn that i am.
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A man who competed in many bodybuilding contest back in his day It was sheer determination in every way A feast of Bodybuilding titles in what he achieved It was his mind staying focused and not being deceived I have known this Bodybuilding pro from years passed Back in his day, this Bodybuilder had plenty of muscle mass Well the time capsule has moved on, and the Bodybuilder then not being a senior remaining strong The senior Bodybuilder of today trains with even more intensity Training really hard in stating, ‘He is not really old” Look at me now and just behold The weights being the push in don’t stop This is what made him a champion that kept him on top It’s the weights giving encouragement that you will succeed Regardless of senior age, you will proceed The same champion being a senior will reach the top again It is a new day to begin You can expect accomplishments until the very end.
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May 24, 2015
May 24, 2015 at 2:36 PM UTC
SENIOR BODYBUILDER AT HEART
Rivalries are an excuse for animosity to be abused. A tradition to explain the irrational and depraved. A justification for future insubordination Of logical arguments by the sane. Beasts competed with one another through physical altercations, But we have evolved to call everyone our brother. So why is it that we must see fighting between one another? Why is it that we may not all show that we're lovers? Is there something wrong with the tolerance of each other? Whatever rationalization is created for the promotion of hatred, Should be abolished and ashamed, That it may show its head and become a vein for placing blame, Is unsettling all the same. We are all too similar, and that should not promote altercations of an individual, Rather it should be used as a connection to the familiar. It should be used in stride with the builder Of peace, and a reason for all this nonsense to cease. We have developed into adults, and it is time to show this with amiable results. By citing a rivalry as traditional is exactly the reason It is sinful. One day we may see the end of this spitefully built fence, By breaking down the wall separating far too many of us all. I hope it is my lifetime here, for failing to unite us, is my deepest of fears.
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Apr 30, 2013
Apr 30, 2013 at 5:12 AM UTC
The Rivalry of Rivalries
A forest adventure-we didn't plan it that way at all, the call of the wild prompted us, is all I can now guess hand in hand in to the woods we ventured like two possessed, magical, it felt, we soon disappeared, from the eyes of curious intruders. erogenous scent of damp earth, after the first sprinkling of monsoon clouds, pepped up our interest in hunting mushrooms popping up everywhere, like fragments of white clouds descended, we pulled out, egg shaped mushrooms that came in to our view the frenzy we fell in to,  possessed us in total, after all we we are also young and hot blooded, We competed like hounds in hot pursuit, ran, collided with each other, fell down, with a gentle thud, upon each other. She did lay flat, face down on my chest, I smelt,musk on her neck a slow intoxicant and mushrooms hidden in her both armpits, which I pursued and found out,we were getting hot, in pursuit of each other's secrets. the world, we had forgotten completely for long!! We didn't see evening light melt and darkness spread stealthily over the woods that engages the robust body of the night, from the rendezvous, of these secret lovers, we sneaked out and saw lighted torches, approach us from all four directions. they zeroed in on us,"Who goes there?" a harsh voice asked, "This, do you know, is the holy grove, of mother goddess, strictly  watched for not to be get desecrated by people who seek some sort of adventure, such an act never goes unpunished, we'll search you and find what you did" We held out mushrooms before them, and I saw each face turning  a lotus! "where did you get this,? Oh! so much!, Those are so rare and any one is able to pluck it, only if mother goddess is pleased" And then we realized this, in that forbidden sacred wood, between us a miracle has happened! that pleased the mother goddess of the woods,  the blessed presence, aren't we then  the chosen ones? ,
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Jul 13, 2013
Jul 13, 2013 at 6:44 PM UTC
We Strayed Deeper in to the Forbidden Woods
A forest adventure-we didn't plan it that way at all, the call of the wild prompted us, is all I can now guess hand in hand in to the woods we ventured like two possessed, magical, it felt, we soon disappeared, from the eyes of curious intruders. erogenous scent of damp earth, after the first sprinkling of monsoon clouds, pepped up our interest in hunting mushrooms popping up everywhere, like fragments of white clouds descended, we pulled out, egg shaped mushrooms that came in to our view the frenzy we fell in to,  possessed us in total, after all we we are also young and hot blooded, We competed like hounds in hot pursuit, ran, collided with each other, fell down, with a gentle thud, upon each other. She did lay flat, face down on my chest, I smelt,musk on her neck a slow intoxicant and mushrooms hidden in her both armpits, which I pursued and found out,we were getting hot, in pursuit of each other's secrets. the world, we had forgotten completely for long!! We didn't see evening light melt and darkness spread stealthily over the woods that engages the robust body of the night, from the rendezvous, of these secret lovers, we sneaked out and saw lighted torches, approach us from all four directions. they zeroed in on us,"Who goes there?" a harsh voice asked, "This, do you know, is the holy grove, of mother goddess, strictly  watched for not to be get desecrated by people who seek some sort of adventure, such an act never goes unpunished, we'll search you and find what you did" We held out mushrooms before them, and I saw each face turning  a lotus! "where did you get this,? Oh! so much!, Those are so rare and any one is able to pluck it, only if mother goddess is pleased" And then we realized this, in that forbidden sacred wood, between us a miracle has happened! that pleased the mother goddess of the woods,  the blessed presence, aren't we then  the chosen ones? ,
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Kickin' all the way the Live Coolio deep in ya Culo/ it's that Boy Yosef comin' with major Flavas/ with so Many Styles more than a Hair Doo Voodoo/ got ya eyes on ya know Who?/ so many ****** wanna Smoke me Cuz im the New Joint/ puttin' sparks to ya Head ****** Red/ if u thinkin' about Frontin'' Me/ ill make u Crossover like EPMD/ Rap Fanatic since i was Swimmin' in the Nut Sack the Mack Attack/ hittin' all your perspectives im takin' out all the Primitives/ in the Rap Game Shoot ya Stick try again my- Flows erected as a **** in between ***** ***** so take Chance it ya Want/ Watch the gun taunt in ya Face a sad Disgrace/ Slappin' a new taste in ya Mouth i Dropped it my Style can't be Competed you Obsoleted i'm Makin Profits the Funk Baby!!!! Many Emcees sweet as a KitKats so cut the Chit Chat/ cuz im bout to Splatter their careers into pieces Gotthem Envisionin' Doubles like Noah i Told ya the Tru Soldier Rollin' Dogia/ marchin' to the Beat with my Vocal a Tru Loco/ when i'm sippin E & J **** an Airplay pinin' Indo/ playin' suckas close like who's holdin' the most/ weight? Pushin' rhymes like weights Loots stay Connected like freight Train Crates/i Dominate from all states that's why they Call Me All-State/ but ya Ain't in Good Hands -tryna Step to the Big Man keep u heated galore like Afghanistan gettin' in that *** like Sand/ so take Stand and a Bow cuz im the Prowl/ for that Number One Slot ya rhymes loose as Jar Jelly **** what the critics tell me "Mr Big Stuff" girls call me "Heavy D" From then shaft that lays between me the Funk Baby!!!
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Oct 8, 2016
Oct 8, 2016 at 10:36 AM UTC
The 70s Funk Baby
Kickin' all the way the Live Coolio deep in ya Culo/ it's that Boy Yosef comin' with major Flavas/ with so Many Styles more than a Hair Doo Voodoo/ got ya eyes on ya know Who?/ so many ****** wanna Smoke me Cuz im the New Joint/ puttin' sparks to ya Head ****** Red/ if u thinkin' about Frontin'' Me/ ill make u Crossover like EPMD/ Rap Fanatic since i was Swimmin' in the Nut Sack the Mack Attack/ hittin' all your perspectives im takin' out all the Primitives/ in the Rap Game Shoot ya Stick try again my- Flows erected as a **** in between ***** ***** so take Chance it ya Want/ Watch the gun taunt in ya Face a sad Disgrace/ Slappin' a new taste in ya Mouth i Dropped it my Style can't be Competed you Obsoleted i'm Makin Profits the Funk Baby!!!! Many Emcees sweet as a KitKats so cut the Chit Chat/ cuz im bout to Splatter their careers into pieces Gotthem Envisionin' Doubles like Noah i Told ya the Tru Soldier Rollin' Dogia/ marchin' to the Beat with my Vocal a Tru Loco/ when i'm sippin E & J **** an Airplay pinin' Indo/ playin' suckas close like who's holdin' the most/ weight? Pushin' rhymes like weights Loots stay Connected like freight Train Crates/i Dominate from all states that's why they Call Me All-State/ but ya Ain't in Good Hands -tryna Step to the Big Man keep u heated galore like Afghanistan gettin' in that *** like Sand/ so take Stand and a Bow cuz im the Prowl/ for that Number One Slot ya rhymes loose as Jar Jelly **** what the critics tell me "Mr Big Stuff" girls call me "Heavy D" From then shaft that lays between me the Funk Baby!!!
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You had too many choices. To chose from. No one of thee bunch knew. Who was the lucky one? All competed to get the chance. That they be the one that you romanced. And the winner is-yet to be determine. Through rumors and innuendo. We still isn't clear on who the winner is. Some say it him. Some say it's me. But the final decision's is with you. About exactly the man that you choose. And the winner is. The man that you give your heart too.
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Sep 4, 2012
Sep 4, 2012 at 10:12 AM UTC
And the Winner Is..
The color red, it's your favorite The color white, your car, your house Shakespeare, we were King and Queen Choir, you sing like an angel Gymnastics, you competed Joseph, you directed Laser tag, you destroyed HIMYM, we watched as we cuddled Your scent, it still lingers on me Wine, I'd love to drink with you New Years Eve, we talked all day and night Mitchell's, we stayed for hours and conversed France, we traveled together Poetry, you got me writing again My car, where we kissed at midnight My basement, where we made love It all reminds me of you Sometimes I wish I had amnesia so I could forget...move on But I love you so much No case of amnesia could take you out of my mind Although sometimes it hurts I want you to know That I love each and every one of those little things that reminds me of you
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Jan 9, 2016
Jan 9, 2016 at 10:18 AM UTC
Everything Reminds Me of You
A friend sends her perfumed carriage And high-bred horses to fetch me. I decline the invitation of My old poetry and wine companion. I remember the happy days in the lost capital. We took our ease in the woman's quarters. The Feast of Lanterns was elaborately celebrated - Folded pendants, emerald hairpins, brocaded girdles, New sashes - we competed To see who was most smartly dressed. Now I am withering away, Wind-blown hair, frost temples. I prefer to stay beyond the curtains, And listen to talk and laughter I can no longer share.
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2.6k
A Friend Sends Her Perfumed Carriage
the moon competes with the sun just like I competed with her long black hair her piercing eyes that looked like the ocean and the sky when I would wake up early I watched the way you looked at her when you thought no one was watching but I kept an eye out every time I felt the hairs on my neck stand up I questioned you about her you said it was nothing you told me she was your best and you’ve known her forever that nothing would happen because you knew better you said you liked her as much as I liked peppers I used to hate peppers but I guess things change I now eat peppers I’m still getting used to them and you’re still calling me at 4 AM asking if I like the taste and I’m wondering if you really learned to love her
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Aug 27, 2015
Aug 27, 2015 at 8:18 PM UTC
bleeding red bell peppers
Sports men and women ready All wanting to aspire to their dreams Each with goals to set Within their own teams. In an Olymic event On the track ready to run Making sure you don't come last People cheering you on. In a moment of peace Like when doves fly Tears flow down their cheeks As dreams aspire to reach the sky. 2012 They came to London They competed, they won they lost. Returned to their own countries Memories forever embossed. © Hazel
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Aug 6, 2012
Aug 6, 2012 at 4:04 PM UTC
ASPIRE TO REACH THE SKY
new, unused; you picked me up from quite a few parched with dust over them excited you were so was I to be selected after all. picture of me clicked, lights on and a perfect setup, you and me only with a cup of chai and not so bright lights. love thrill and excitement, the first chapter had it all, you read it and loved it, like never before. with the passing chapters the story slowed down, so did your reading speed, started forcing yourself, with tired face and sleepy eyes struggled just to move forward,a bit more, a page more, a chapter more. maybe you should have Let me go at that moment, but decided to hold. never did you forget to take out time for me, I have seen you crying smiling clinching to your pillow like a kid, also while reading when that pink blush slid. soon the story paced up again, there were ups Lows and heartbreaks, and you were sailing through them all, along with me. I was about to get over, we were about to end, you wanted me to be longer but the plot didn’t allow, you finished reading, you competed with me and you freed me, that was how I wanted it to end. now I am free I promise to be with you, through your lows and highs and smiles and cries, that’s why it’s always said, it all starts with a good book.
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May 20, 2020
May 20, 2020 at 2:22 AM UTC
\book/• ~ anushka pandey✒️
She was just an average girl, in an average world, with an average family. She went to an average school, with average friends, and had average grades. She lived in a small average town, with average stores, and average neighbors. She participated in average clubs, competed in average sports, and achieved average awards. She had an average boyfriend, with an average job, and an average truck. She participated in average services, competed in average races, and achieved average ribbons . She lived in a small average community, with average churches, and average parks. She went to an average library, with average books, and average computers. She was just an average girl, who wore an average smile, while trying to averagely fit in. You see… She was… She went… She had… She lived… She participated… She achieved… She competed… She lived… She wore… Her world was to average…
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Apr 19, 2016
Apr 19, 2016 at 8:56 AM UTC
An Average Girl...
Jean Bartel,                 born Jean Bartlemeh; on October 26, 1923 & died March 6, 2011;     Miss California and Miss America 1943;          She won the talent and swimsuit awards at the national pageant. At 5 feet 8 inches tall,   Bartel was the tallest winner up to that time; Jean Bartel was the first college student to win the title of Miss America & after visiting her sorority sisters in Kappa Kappa Gamma           around the country, she developed the idea of awarding scholarships to those who competed;       The Miss America Organization is now the world's largest provider of scholarships for women in the world; Bartel worked for many years on Broadway and in television, including starring in her own travel series, It's a Woman's World, as well as performing for seven months in South America; She appeared in an episode of The Love Boat in 1984, w/ Marian McKnight,                 Miss America, 1957;         Nancy Fleming, Miss America, 1961; & Vanessa Williams, Miss America, 1984. Bartel died in Brentwood, California, on March 6, 2011, aged 87; The Miss America Organization issuing a statement calling her "one of our most beloved Miss Americas"
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Aug 21, 2018
Aug 21, 2018 at 5:19 PM UTC
Miss America, 1943
_Amy Louise Jackson_ is a British actress & model known for her work in Indian films. She played the role of _Imra Ardeen-Saturn Girl_ on the third season of the CW's superhero series _Supergirl_. She began her modeling career at the age of 16, and went on to win the 2009 _Miss Teen World_ competition after winning the _Miss Teen Liverpool_ & _Miss Teen Great Britain_ pageants. Amy won the title of _Miss Teen World_ in 2009. She won eighteen prizes, including a modelling contract in the US on a $50,000 scholarship. Soon after, she won _Miss Liverpool_ in 2010. She competed for _Miss England_ in 2010 & crowned the runner-up to Jessica Linley. Subsequently, director A. L. Vijay cast her as the _leading lady_ of the Tamil language period-drama   Madrasapattinam in 2010. Jackson continues to act in Indian films of all languages, including Tamil, Hindi, Telugu, and Kannada
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Sep 5, 2018
Sep 5, 2018 at 4:59 AM UTC
Miss Teen World, 2009
Dammed, The vault of his mind was laid bare A barren stream with only fossils visible At the mouth, buried under silt he found unspoken words That he had left to the undercurrents of political correctness: "You do not own my mind It is mine and mine alone And with it I shatter Your rules and ties that bind" As if in response to the unearthing The dam began to crack Releasing a tiny rivulet that began to push downstream Splitting into two distinct eyes that have for too long been blind Where one stretched long and far into the past While the other ebbed and flowed in the whirlpool of the future Where endless possibilities competed for dominance Against any attempt to join the relative calm of memory The dam shuddered again and the gates flew open The river of life rushing back to fill the void Deafening the ears Which for so long had only heard the carefully curated lines Repeated and indoctrinated since his birth It was in this moment of flood that freedom came pouring forth His eyes were opened He saw the sight His ears could hear His tongue could fight His raging river returned to him Liberty in the light
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Aug 12, 2018
Aug 12, 2018 at 11:08 PM UTC
Flooding Liberty
midsummer day- The sun was calling us by the names Two little brace faced dorks running out her back screen door To find a secret hideout for the day With composition books in hand of course Our Top Secret  composition books, Where we wrote about our futures, and boys (shhhh) We ruled the streets of Bennington woods Claiming the oak tree in someone’s yard Where we competed for height in our cheap foam flip flops Owning the pine trees of another Where we spied on the teenagers Trying to understand their secret language But it was under an old wooden porch where we pulled out the books And this time, we’d plan our weddings We would wear beautiful dresses and pointy high heels Just like a princess And most certainly marry our dreamy little  blue eyed boy crushes I even crossed my heart and hoped to die so she would be my maid of honor Last but not least, we had to choose our wedding flowers It was the season of flowers; tulips, daisies, marigolds… Every house was decorated in a colorful array We ran exuberantly, scanning our options Then began to pick away Every flower we knew or didn’t, As long as we had one of each We covered the entire street til our hands and books were overflowing At home we taped them into our precious journals Sealed forever so we would remember, These were the flowers we’d have in our wedding bouquets
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Jan 7, 2019
Jan 7, 2019 at 11:30 AM UTC
Wedding Bouquets
It's like a path of a never ending journey One you can't complete in a hurry There's no map,guide or directions It's trials and trivias and excitement and sadness Roads of curves and bumps , straight paths & crossed ones Success and failure repeated continuously Love and regret,family and enemies Mistakes to set you for the future Learn your own lessons without being warned, You have a set time you must remain in the game but a time of which you are unaware, Tasks to be competed Days feeling defeated but at the finish line you will see what you came to be
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Jan 10, 2016
Jan 10, 2016 at 7:11 PM UTC
It's called life
Karma was child from a humble family whose dream had a spoonful of wishes. She never thought of a hen sitting on her plate for lunch until her body shaped to capture the focus of the community. Her and hard work were inseparable, and motivation sparked from her deeds. This was short lived by blindfolds of moments.  She then landed in a ditch of blessings which surpassed her baring as paper made solutions to all her faults and soonest laziness took her for a companion. Yes, she had completely forgotten her path neither could she trace her background, for looks bought her a ticket to a lifestyle and rather failed to resist becoming stingy. She learnt not the meaning of love for it carried no sense, and the she needed not to learn of true love, oh how could she for to her it was a monster that stole opportunities. The caterpillar she was grew into a butterfly one seen by many and so touched by those whose hands could afford the beautiful colours of its petals. Souls fell apart over the turned beauty of the wings that went toxic. The meal that went bad before the harvest of a promised yield. The love to taste of the night shinning sun evolved many to empty pockets and others to bundles of regret to disease and misfortune. It wasn’t her making nor desire, it was the glory of Gods carvings that alerted those near and far to come eco and share of visibility of a living being stationed as nature. This beauty scorched mens eyes day in and day out as she melted souls and flowers faded in the sun. she glowed on gentle pockets, never invested any seeds for a tomorrow. Time wasn’t her ally, it brought a change in season as the clouds ushered in rain sprouted new and better yields that out competed the market of the former. Clouds shrinked and a dark tomorrow was born, the wine tasted more bitter than old wine in a new bottle. Then the veterans got and adopted new medals at the cost of the old fades of the butterfly contests. What was left was a story tale with a bunch of little and innocent ferries whose direction was unfolded but hope set from a single ray through the thickest forest. Thomas Bron Mukama #herdsmanofprogress
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Feb 26, 2019
Feb 26, 2019 at 2:33 AM UTC
SINKING DIASPORA
Karma was child from a humble family whose dream had a spoonful of wishes. She never thought of a hen sitting on her plate for lunch until her body shaped to capture the focus of the community. Her and hard work were inseparable, and motivation sparked from her deeds. This was short lived by blindfolds of moments.  She then landed in a ditch of blessings which surpassed her baring as paper made solutions to all her faults and soonest laziness took her for a companion. Yes, she had completely forgotten her path neither could she trace her background, for looks bought her a ticket to a lifestyle and rather failed to resist becoming stingy. She learnt not the meaning of love for it carried no sense, and the she needed not to learn of true love, oh how could she for to her it was a monster that stole opportunities. The caterpillar she was grew into a butterfly one seen by many and so touched by those whose hands could afford the beautiful colours of its petals. Souls fell apart over the turned beauty of the wings that went toxic. The meal that went bad before the harvest of a promised yield. The love to taste of the night shinning sun evolved many to empty pockets and others to bundles of regret to disease and misfortune. It wasn’t her making nor desire, it was the glory of Gods carvings that alerted those near and far to come eco and share of visibility of a living being stationed as nature. This beauty scorched mens eyes day in and day out as she melted souls and flowers faded in the sun. she glowed on gentle pockets, never invested any seeds for a tomorrow. Time wasn’t her ally, it brought a change in season as the clouds ushered in rain sprouted new and better yields that out competed the market of the former. Clouds shrinked and a dark tomorrow was born, the wine tasted more bitter than old wine in a new bottle. Then the veterans got and adopted new medals at the cost of the old fades of the butterfly contests. What was left was a story tale with a bunch of little and innocent ferries whose direction was unfolded but hope set from a single ray through the thickest forest. Thomas Bron Mukama #herdsmanofprogress
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the wind rustled through the leaves the birds didn’t make a sound we just stood there quietly looking down upon the ground and we didn’t know ‘twas you only one of us perceived and they still don’t know ‘twas you still alone, only me i take back all the things i said though i know you don’t mind i sit here all alone in my head only in time as i walk upon the earth with each footstep on the ground i look back at you and say, “now i never will be found” but your heart was always calm and your soul was always pure now you look at me and say [with loving eyes] “now you never can be sure” i take back all the lies in my head though i know you are here i still risked all the words that i’ve said oh, never fear and i feel like a house that’s burned down one nobody wants to buy but i feel that your heart’s in my hands only in time and your soul still speaks words that can’t be repeated for suffers consequence or our hearts will be mistreated and my lies were told and our time has been competed but i’m no longer cold and i love you, i love you i take back all the things i said though i know you’re still here i’m no longer alone in my head i never fear now the wind rustles through the leaves and the birds don’t make a sound we just touch, now, quietly with our feet upon the ground
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Dec 6, 2010
Dec 6, 2010 at 8:58 PM UTC
dusky, dusty, dark, long road
2016 Museum of Modern Art Party in the Garden - Inside Vera Ellen **** is an American fashion designer who is mostly known for her dresses. But most do not know that she started out with a higher education at Sarah Lawrence College. She had a bachelor degree in art history. The founder of Vera **** Bridal House has become one of the most successful entrepreneurs. She was able to fulfill her dreams with a college degree. She is one of the world's most successful business tycoons that learned about entrepreneurship. If you want to have a degree in design or fashion, and at the same time explore business, then following Vera Wang's career path might be something you can consider. According to Rasmussen, **** has an estimated net worth of $115 million. **** grew up with Chinese roots but she was born and raised in New York. She initially graduated from Chapin school in 1967 and then attended the University of Paris. Afterwards, she went to Sarah Lawrence College in Westchester County and took a degree in art history. What many do not know is that she competed in the U.S. Figure Skating Championships. She was featured in Sports Illustrated, 1968 edition. When she did not make the cut for the US Olympics, she set her sights on fashion. With her background in art, she entered Vogue as an editor immediately after graduating from Sarah Lawrence. She was the youngest editor in the publication. She moved on to Ralph Lauren 17 years later. At the age of 40, she became an independent bridal wear designer. With her experience and education, she now works with renowned fashion designers and designs for the likes of Victoria Beckham, Ivanka Trump, Avril Lavigne and Kim Kardashian. She does not limit her designs to wedding dresses alone. She also ventures into the realm of evening wear and retail. Vera Wang's success stems from her love of fashion. To this day, she still enjoys skating though as a "multidimensional" sport.Read more at:http://www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-brisbane | www.marieaustralia.com/black-formal-dresses
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Aug 8, 2016
Aug 8, 2016 at 10:33 PM UTC
Vera **** Rings And Wedding Dress Did Not Happen Overnight
2016 Museum of Modern Art Party in the Garden - Inside Vera Ellen **** is an American fashion designer who is mostly known for her dresses. But most do not know that she started out with a higher education at Sarah Lawrence College. She had a bachelor degree in art history. The founder of Vera **** Bridal House has become one of the most successful entrepreneurs. She was able to fulfill her dreams with a college degree. She is one of the world's most successful business tycoons that learned about entrepreneurship. If you want to have a degree in design or fashion, and at the same time explore business, then following Vera Wang's career path might be something you can consider. According to Rasmussen, **** has an estimated net worth of $115 million. **** grew up with Chinese roots but she was born and raised in New York. She initially graduated from Chapin school in 1967 and then attended the University of Paris. Afterwards, she went to Sarah Lawrence College in Westchester County and took a degree in art history. What many do not know is that she competed in the U.S. Figure Skating Championships. She was featured in Sports Illustrated, 1968 edition. When she did not make the cut for the US Olympics, she set her sights on fashion. With her background in art, she entered Vogue as an editor immediately after graduating from Sarah Lawrence. She was the youngest editor in the publication. She moved on to Ralph Lauren 17 years later. At the age of 40, she became an independent bridal wear designer. With her experience and education, she now works with renowned fashion designers and designs for the likes of Victoria Beckham, Ivanka Trump, Avril Lavigne and Kim Kardashian. She does not limit her designs to wedding dresses alone. She also ventures into the realm of evening wear and retail. Vera Wang's success stems from her love of fashion. To this day, she still enjoys skating though as a "multidimensional" sport.Read more at:http://www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-brisbane | www.marieaustralia.com/black-formal-dresses
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Poetry healed me When I was dying Braced in the oceans When I was dying Poetry healed me When I gasped for air Lost in the barren fields When I gasped for air Poetry healed me In cities where men lied Folded dreams and illusions In cities where men lied Poetry healed me In seas where all competed For a love that was sour and salted In seas where all competed Poetry found me first Initiated me in it's team In games that tricked me It found me as an intern
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Jun 21, 2016
Jun 21, 2016 at 4:41 PM UTC
Poetry Healed Me
You have to have a good second half your second half must be as good as your first half your second half can be even better than your first half but if your first half is a good half and you blow it in your second half then you have only finished half only put half of the time in only gotten half of the work done only completed half of the journey whenever and however you start it a good first half can easily come apart if you do not make the second half of all you have completed solid and positive so your task is not defeated making you feel as if you never competed. Have a strong second half so your first is not cheated. ~Miguel
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Oct 15, 2014
Oct 15, 2014 at 8:06 PM UTC
Make it ALL Good!
**All the sufferings and pain Would one day come to an end Life will not always be the same Only peace would prevail No thoughts , no sounds in the Mind Deep silence .. Waiting for the day to Arise ...... Getting back to the ages where there was No Rush And All were at same Pace No firsts and lasts Contentment was The Norm And rush would be looked Down Upon Can we ever get back to the time ???? Or was there ever such a Time and Era where no one competed for The Race But All were at same Pace And Helping Each Other !! Deep silence .... Waiting for the day to Arise.....**
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Apr 28, 2017
Apr 28, 2017 at 7:24 AM UTC
Race Or Pace