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"coney" poems
ladies and gentlemen this little girl with the good teeth and small important ******* (is it the Frolic or the Century whirl? ones memory indignantly protests) this little dancer with the tightened eyes crisp ogling shoulders and the ripe quite too large lips always clenched faintly,wishes you with all her fragile might to not surmise she dreamed one afternoon ….or maybe read? of time a when the beautiful most of her (this here and This, do you get me?) will maybe dance and maybe sing and be absitively posolutely dead, like Coney Island in winter
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Ladies And Gentlemen This Little Girl
Ever been kidnapped by a poet if i were a poet i'd kidnap you put you in my phrases and meter You to jones beach or maybe coney island or maybe just to my house lyric you in lilacs dash you in the rain blend into the beach to complement my see Play the lyre for you ode you with my love song anything to win you wrap you in the red Black green show you off to mama yeah if i were a poet i'd kid nap you
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May 17, 2013
May 17, 2013 at 1:20 PM UTC
Kidnap Poem
Orange peel Thursdays and the Velcro shoes Of children hordes Who spider up Alice on toadstools in Central Park Dusted psilocybin shoots my eyes through With the clarity of ice and sliced mushroom Steeping in stomach acid before finding blood The kids are tripping like madmen or halloween candy Like its time to release and give up to the nonsense And let your young self congeal to a saccharine sludge I don’t stroll in the park to keep my mind sharp I’m here because it’s a riot My head can throb to the jittery birds And the blasts of carsong It’s the right kind of rhythm to walk to ** ** ** Ketamine days and the lolling slums To make sure the insane stay insane And the hobos are washed with spit from the clouds And the subway exhaust always hangs in our hair And the old Coney Island burns again and twice more We don’t pretend to understand what we see In subway grates thirty feet wide Like the earth punching out of work for a bit Opening to you her *** belly So you can check out the strips of metal inside Before she slurps you down and with an esophageal squeeze Shoots you through the turnstiles The train squeals and grinds down our eyes With thoughts as slow as ketamine Makes room for schizophrenia in a conversation We’re listening to ‘til sundown ** ** ** Years full of Brooklyn and the assorted pills Makes offal fit for punks in name brand shoes Squared off with police in the park Being beaten for the fun of being beaten Peacoat locals pass the days in supermarkets And you grow up to the loony mumble Of the woman who knows the boat Moored at the end of the street Mansion of the stray cat colony You help her with her daily chore to feed them Tabbies popping the pills of the homeless And puking in tandem all over their house Living off generous dying folk
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Feb 11, 2010
Feb 11, 2010 at 4:02 PM UTC
Ketamine Days and the Lolling Slums
Orange peel Thursdays and the Velcro shoes Of children hordes Who spider up Alice on toadstools in Central Park Dusted psilocybin shoots my eyes through With the clarity of ice and sliced mushroom Steeping in stomach acid before finding blood The kids are tripping like madmen or halloween candy Like its time to release and give up to the nonsense And let your young self congeal to a saccharine sludge I don’t stroll in the park to keep my mind sharp I’m here because it’s a riot My head can throb to the jittery birds And the blasts of carsong It’s the right kind of rhythm to walk to ** ** ** Ketamine days and the lolling slums To make sure the insane stay insane And the hobos are washed with spit from the clouds And the subway exhaust always hangs in our hair And the old Coney Island burns again and twice more We don’t pretend to understand what we see In subway grates thirty feet wide Like the earth punching out of work for a bit Opening to you her *** belly So you can check out the strips of metal inside Before she slurps you down and with an esophageal squeeze Shoots you through the turnstiles The train squeals and grinds down our eyes With thoughts as slow as ketamine Makes room for schizophrenia in a conversation We’re listening to ‘til sundown ** ** ** Years full of Brooklyn and the assorted pills Makes offal fit for punks in name brand shoes Squared off with police in the park Being beaten for the fun of being beaten Peacoat locals pass the days in supermarkets And you grow up to the loony mumble Of the woman who knows the boat Moored at the end of the street Mansion of the stray cat colony You help her with her daily chore to feed them Tabbies popping the pills of the homeless And puking in tandem all over their house Living off generous dying folk
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I once was told In Broooklyn New York I had a lackadaisical attitude. It was the first time I was hearing That whimsical adjective ! So lackadaisical I was ! Looked like an illness The way they said it It seemed I could contaminate. So I stopped a few seconds to think  and dissect the word Lackadaisical I lacked a daisy somewhere ! Sounded like I lacked a fuse in my brain ! Next thing I know I was checking the word In my reminiscences of the Oxford English Dictionary Or may be it was Webster's And  it said in black and white ferns I lacked purpose I wasn't properly lazy, I just lacked directions I lacked enthusiasm, stamina I was devoid of zest I was blasé Insouciant Careless. Translated into  more French I was nonchalant and better said Jemenfoutiste. It was during an encounter group And they threw that lackadaisical attitude ******** to my face And guess what i did ?! I just kept on smiling Jemenfoutiste to the extreme. And they kept saying See what I mean, you 're so ******* lackadaisical , man ! You're so pathetic !  You're so apathetic ! It was Winter in America like Gil Scott-Heron would say And it felt so good, so warm, As far as I could see, To be called lackadaisical And not laconical. I not only lacked a daisy I lacked a bunch of tropical flowers indeed ! Like bouganvillea, orchid or hibiscus Anthurium, jasmine or bromeliad I lacked sun and sea Strange as it was Even though I was near Atlantic Avenue, Coney Island So I was lackaseacal and lackasuncal But what I didn't lack was ants in my pants And until today they make me dance My forever lackadaisical dance.
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Aug 27, 2019
Aug 27, 2019 at 12:59 AM UTC
Lackadaisical
I once was told In Broooklyn New York I had a lackadaisical attitude. It was the first time I was hearing That whimsical adjective ! So lackadaisical I was ! Looked like an illness The way they said it It seemed I could contaminate. So I stopped a few seconds to think  and dissect the word Lackadaisical I lacked a daisy somewhere ! Sounded like I lacked a fuse in my brain ! Next thing I know I was checking the word In my reminiscences of the Oxford English Dictionary Or may be it was Webster's And  it said in black and white ferns I lacked purpose I wasn't properly lazy, I just lacked directions I lacked enthusiasm, stamina I was devoid of zest I was blasé Insouciant Careless. Translated into  more French I was nonchalant and better said Jemenfoutiste. It was during an encounter group And they threw that lackadaisical attitude ******** to my face And guess what i did ?! I just kept on smiling Jemenfoutiste to the extreme. And they kept saying See what I mean, you 're so ******* lackadaisical , man ! You're so pathetic !  You're so apathetic ! It was Winter in America like Gil Scott-Heron would say And it felt so good, so warm, As far as I could see, To be called lackadaisical And not laconical. I not only lacked a daisy I lacked a bunch of tropical flowers indeed ! Like bouganvillea, orchid or hibiscus Anthurium, jasmine or bromeliad I lacked sun and sea Strange as it was Even though I was near Atlantic Avenue, Coney Island So I was lackaseacal and lackasuncal But what I didn't lack was ants in my pants And until today they make me dance My forever lackadaisical dance.
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i. O' Timely Apricity; ii. Mayest thou Warm, and blanketeth Me; as a neonate, as Thou shalt gorgonize Me, from within the space, Ourn embracing is a cataract, Of heavied chime-together laced. iii. Thine speak is comely, Concord To mine earshot; the copse is Surrounding, none manor Needed, just the coney's, With the delightful tree's, veneering ourn cot. iv. Exhaling all ourn woes And sorrow's, as if none Tommorrow; None haste, And none distaste, house- Leeks groweth whilst the Flaxen colored roses follow. v. O' oriental Apricity I'm cold mine lass, I'm freezing fast; This winter day Hath chilled mine Soul, I needeth thine Fire-place, to heateth these bones. Though far-flung, away on stretched water's. I'm awaiting for thee, mine queen, O' Apricity, I'm awaiting O' queen, mine swart of the sea, thou holdeth the lock, tis I hath the key, here thou goeth amour', open it up, flyeth on through-setteth me free. ©Brandon Nagley ©Earl Jane Nagley dedicated ( Filipino rose) ©Lonesome poet's poetry
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Jan 14, 2016
Jan 14, 2016 at 5:02 PM UTC
O' timely Apricity
It comes to you in your darkest days, disguised in a familiar face, It whispers words you've waited for, uttered with eloquence & grace. It touches your skin, holds your face, Then consumes your self worth without care. It hides behind a mask, planning & scheming, leaving you unaware. It hugs you as you dry your eyes, it fills your head & heart with lies. It utters hollow apologies with no intention of change, It shouts vulgarities in a crowded coney island, Filling you with embarrassment & shame. It fakes compassion as you wait to hear, whether you may indeed have cancer, You question why it chose you? but you never get an answer. It prays at every meal, mocking God without fear, It attacks your reputation, your humanity, and all that you hold dear. It hides behinds friends, half truths, and a sea of endless lies, It marinates in every excess, so it never has to open its' eyes. You cannot give it love, expect empathy, or regret, It is never satisfied because its true needs are not being met. I'll never understand the cruelty, the why or even how, But some things have no answer, and it no longer matters now. Despite what has been DONE TO ME, This I will always implore, Evil may destroy this world, But FAITH, HOPE, & LOVE WILL win the war.
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Nov 23, 2014
Nov 23, 2014 at 3:06 PM UTC
Evil Exists...(8-12-14)
This is Detroit and we ignore what the rest of the world has to say about us, we wear our stink like a badge of honor and we laugh at the fear on your face knowing where you are and what youve heard. This is Detroit the motor-city which means you better own one because our public transportation ***** our roads aren't much better and our gas prices are high which means the speed limit is unacceptable in the fast lane in fact, anything thats not 10-15 over is not acceptable treat our highways like the autobahn This is Detroit and any Coney Island you go to you shouldn't see any fries underneath the chili and cheese regardless how small It may be This is Detroit and its a city that refuses to die because of its artistic output from Motown to Eminem and our failures that catch the eye of the world yet we live on through the hardship that builds our character as they scoff This is Detroit and every pothole every decaying building every makeshift into a new business is a character trait where banks become pizza shops and theaters parking lots This is Detroit where we still show up and party for a football team that has never won a Superbowl This is Detroit we are dangerous we are lawless we know our own and we wouldn't want it any other way
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Sep 24, 2014
Sep 24, 2014 at 7:13 PM UTC
Free World (Detroit)
Satan's school for girls White short dress and false eyelashes Bubblegum ice cream and Coney Island Oh say that, honey! No class just *** Can I be your pretty baby? Take me to the New York city Motels,hotels,anywhere I want to see you again,my handsome devil And I am your little mermaid Oh baby, how sad... You don't like my fakeness Old fashioned vanilla Don't you think that karma is playing with me? They always sai "Don't be shy,little girl" But I am still trying to ****** myself No class just *** Can I be your pretty baby? Take me to the New York city The Palms motel All I want to do is to love you All I want to do is to love you Do you love me? He said "Yes, baby, I do"
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Jan 5, 2014
Jan 5, 2014 at 8:31 AM UTC
Satan's Daughter
on ruby jacobs walk, a small girl asked us for money for ice cream. she eyed our cones                                 yours, lemon                                 mine, strawberry with a child’s hunger glinting and opportunistic as she held out her palm for coins. i was not yet accustomed to the shapes and sizes, to a dime being smaller than a nickel, and in any case wanted to preserve them for souvenirs so we shook our heads and walked away. a year later, writing this poem, i learned that ruby jacobs was a local restauranteur who, as a boy, illegally sold ice creams for a nickel on the boardwalk.                                                 a nickel is the larger coin                                                 the size of a ten pence piece.                                                 i know that now. the wide atlantic rose from a sloping manicured lawn         star-spangled,                                 like everything here,                                                                 the airborne flag                                                                 above a wide pavilion                                                                 a fanatic wedding cake topper                                                                 against the blood-blue sky.         i slipped out of my shoes and let the white sand burn my feet, and jaggedly fill the spaces between my toes. the atlantic held open its arms though we weren’t, as we imagined,                 looking east                 looking home but south to new jersey, across the bay. the gnarled boardwalk was a song of the twentieth century         a roll-call of mass-market capitalism         here in the city that didn’t invent the concept         but certainly perfected it:                                                 hot dogs                                         amusements                                 ice creams (we’ve covered that)                         fridge magnets                 baseball caps         i bought an espresso cup with a picture of the president and the caption:                          ‘huuuuge!’ i stopped to take a photograph of a space-age building from the fifties which turned out to be                                         a public toilet. later from the sunbaked d train, brooklyn spread out beneath us the houses garnished with flags, then the city coughed us up on seventh avenue and night fell five hours early.
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Jul 20, 2019
Jul 20, 2019 at 7:51 AM UTC
coney island hymn
on ruby jacobs walk, a small girl asked us for money for ice cream. she eyed our cones                                 yours, lemon                                 mine, strawberry with a child’s hunger glinting and opportunistic as she held out her palm for coins. i was not yet accustomed to the shapes and sizes, to a dime being smaller than a nickel, and in any case wanted to preserve them for souvenirs so we shook our heads and walked away. a year later, writing this poem, i learned that ruby jacobs was a local restauranteur who, as a boy, illegally sold ice creams for a nickel on the boardwalk.                                                 a nickel is the larger coin                                                 the size of a ten pence piece.                                                 i know that now. the wide atlantic rose from a sloping manicured lawn         star-spangled,                                 like everything here,                                                                 the airborne flag                                                                 above a wide pavilion                                                                 a fanatic wedding cake topper                                                                 against the blood-blue sky.         i slipped out of my shoes and let the white sand burn my feet, and jaggedly fill the spaces between my toes. the atlantic held open its arms though we weren’t, as we imagined,                 looking east                 looking home but south to new jersey, across the bay. the gnarled boardwalk was a song of the twentieth century         a roll-call of mass-market capitalism         here in the city that didn’t invent the concept         but certainly perfected it:                                                 hot dogs                                         amusements                                 ice creams (we’ve covered that)                         fridge magnets                 baseball caps         i bought an espresso cup with a picture of the president and the caption:                          ‘huuuuge!’ i stopped to take a photograph of a space-age building from the fifties which turned out to be                                         a public toilet. later from the sunbaked d train, brooklyn spread out beneath us the houses garnished with flags, then the city coughed us up on seventh avenue and night fell five hours early.
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with the lust of a 14 year old ***** boy playing hooky eyes   blink orbs riding the bumpy **** grind yields a mental representation *her *** a Coney Island ride reciprocity of tongue and groove a big dipper and a hot dog in a bun eating contest i eye the shape of her legs brahmana of form **** cake butter scallops with a prune skin **** ***** dark little sister going along for the ride with hidden talents *om shakti om holy donut with a zit* rubbing myself a peripatetic command like I had the junkies itch in a bearded clam sea of black nail claws like musical notes that tear flesh hegemony of *** art *make me bleed ***** Tangula The Exotic Shake Dancer moves infallible hips and dancing hands like octopi tickling bloated ***** ta-ting go the finger cymbals smiling she called pip squeak colossus of her dreams flick tongues the meringue licking the shimmering tantra pistol finger up the **** hole brings a prostate exclamation point and a throat gag lyric for a wagon train of wrap around lips zooming spit and spray wet like scungelli her ******* like cloud cookies ****** my mouth gasper boy chokes on a marshmallow fire i kiss her feet and work my way up the slippery slope a starved dog …
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Jul 1, 2020
Jul 1, 2020 at 8:54 PM UTC
*The I Love ***** Anthropic Principle
Why did you bring me here? The sand is white with snow, Over the wooden domes The winter sea-winds blow— There is no shelter near, Come, let us go. With foam of icy lace The sea creeps up the sand, The wind is like a hand That strikes us in the face. Doors that June set a-swing Are bolted long ago; We try them uselessly— Alas, there cannot be For us a second spring; Come, let us go.
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Coney Island
Unsticking our young dimpled thighs from the leather seats We swirl sodas, lemon bitter, in the back of your moma's old car with the fresh smell Banging our shins into the metal girding of Coney Island's landmark Ferris wheel, We were landmarks ourselves, clutching each other hard, squeals high in our throats Caught there with the lemon soda and honey grains of covered peanuts Salt Wind ruffled our hair and his name was Billy, he was ours for the summer We danced with him sharp and gentle on our legs covered in girl fuzz Isn't it just grand to have our taunts and jeers still rough in our bodies, Still young and sweet enough to draw lines across each other's palms, and promise We are Sisters; 'Cause you know tomorrow, we'll forget it all.
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Sep 30, 2012
Sep 30, 2012 at 10:00 PM UTC
Emily and Me
Funny, how sometimes butterflies skip over your skin without ever landing, how basketballs spin around the rim without swishing, or how things never seem to work out. I’ve been wishing for moments of high tide, gravitational moons that would draw me to you, in the middle of May on Coney Island. I want you to pull my pigtails like it’s preschool. I want to bleed neon, shout pop tunes to accompany my words that sound like a poem we all had to learn to recite from memory. Funny, how we store meat behind our popsicles in the freezer, how we tear up things before we throw them away, or how defeated we feel when we wake up to zero new messages. I’ve been reaching for the plug in the drain, sipping champagne, hearing your name, when all I really want is lunchboxes, the kind your mom leaves notes in. I want to beat you in four square, color on my Converse, catch crayfish in the creek behind your house. Funny, how we tone down our souls to fit the mold, or interview each other based on pieces of paper when we are alive, and breathing, and it’s funny how we save money for next time, plan for tomorrow before we’re done with today, count our accomplishments before our scars. Funny, how all we ever wanted was to finally be exactly where we are.
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Sep 25, 2014
Sep 25, 2014 at 3:32 PM UTC
In Retrospect
I knew that it was always there, only about a block away The Ocean I could see the Single Ferry sailing with piles of wooden boxes my colleague whisper to me “Those are cadavers inside those crates: heading toward Hart Island Potter’s field project to the unknown graves. The seagulls and the wild birds enjoy the ***** sandy While taking in the early sunshine here in Coney Island I remember a long time ago, when I had the sea fever I would walk bare feet in the sand, and tossed small pebbles in the ocean Rex my dog, would chase the seagulls and wild birds away As he enjoy his morning walk with me The cool breeze would massages my face and the hot sun Would quickly dry up the salty vapors, which made my soul rejoice each time we took that stroll along the white sandy beaches on the Island of Bim Seeing with the eyes of a poet’s is a gift my thoughts, and my unusual language, The world sees us poet and author as liabilities A true emotional poet has a way of making you believe that the “Sky is falling, so he or she may suggests that you prop up sky with the clouds What’s in a word, besides noun and verbs and adjectives? A poet’s heart, and they emotional torrent So once again the sky is falling While the rain turn to sleet ice pellets A poet ways of seeing the beauty of it all Through her work
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May 29, 2013
May 29, 2013 at 10:44 AM UTC
A Poet's Eyes
With nothing much else to do, We would grab a couple of purple prickly pear margaritas And I remember how delicious they were And how the bartender didn't hold back Yes, they were strong. And I would giggle, I would act ditzy. Just because it was fun, and it got your attention. You would roll your eyes at me sometimes But not really in a mean way. And we would grab some coney dogs, devour them like they were nothing. Then we would fight about something. We would drive all the way to the city Stroll through the casinos aimlessly, Because we were financially irresponsible, But not that financially irresponsible. Afterwards, you would buy me a delicious ice cream. Then you would tell me all the places you wanted to take me, and all the events you wanted me to experience. We really did give it our all. But life is cruel, and our best wasn't good enough.
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Mar 4, 2015
Mar 4, 2015 at 11:55 PM UTC
Prickly Pear
i became the jumpin' jack flash in november '77. there was slush in new york city and the bums at the piers still burned trash in metal barrels you could see from over on coney island even. just like kerouac said. in the daytime foolish kids picked weeds in central park and called them flowers. they got laid by stringing charming words together as they gave them to the thousand daughters of manhattan's old monied men, the wall street hacks hanging from the teats of the great & frenzied cash cow of capitalist interest. the milk came slow that winter. one week, early december when the slush gave way to furtive snowfalls i took a bus to patterson, NJ for a few days, drank a lot of awful coffee writing obscenities in my journal but speaking them aloud in the restaurants and bars and so was deemed just like everybody else in patterson, NJ. drunk & high, helicopter tours, stuffed with bread and half-truths. and when shortly my irish luck ran out i raced back to the big smoke in a drop-top mercedes driven by a man whose thick accent i couldn't quite place. whose only serious question was whether i knew anyone who had good coke. in the city it rained for three weeks straight and david byrne, in some bowery apartment wrote a song called 'flood' which was never released on any talking head's album but lingered in his brain as a reminder of the three weeks he spent cooped up, eating saltines and dancing to the rhythms of the thunder and rain outside. totally alone with his mind & a bass guitar. tina weymouth, naturally, was furious. the bass was the last thing she had left in a band she half-started. and david had stolen even that. but that was tina weymouth, that was new york.
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Nov 30, 2012
Nov 30, 2012 at 9:33 PM UTC
every morning my reflection looks more & more like a young **** jagger and i can't help but smile at the promise of my bright future
i became the jumpin' jack flash in november '77. there was slush in new york city and the bums at the piers still burned trash in metal barrels you could see from over on coney island even. just like kerouac said. in the daytime foolish kids picked weeds in central park and called them flowers. they got laid by stringing charming words together as they gave them to the thousand daughters of manhattan's old monied men, the wall street hacks hanging from the teats of the great & frenzied cash cow of capitalist interest. the milk came slow that winter. one week, early december when the slush gave way to furtive snowfalls i took a bus to patterson, NJ for a few days, drank a lot of awful coffee writing obscenities in my journal but speaking them aloud in the restaurants and bars and so was deemed just like everybody else in patterson, NJ. drunk & high, helicopter tours, stuffed with bread and half-truths. and when shortly my irish luck ran out i raced back to the big smoke in a drop-top mercedes driven by a man whose thick accent i couldn't quite place. whose only serious question was whether i knew anyone who had good coke. in the city it rained for three weeks straight and david byrne, in some bowery apartment wrote a song called 'flood' which was never released on any talking head's album but lingered in his brain as a reminder of the three weeks he spent cooped up, eating saltines and dancing to the rhythms of the thunder and rain outside. totally alone with his mind & a bass guitar. tina weymouth, naturally, was furious. the bass was the last thing she had left in a band she half-started. and david had stolen even that. but that was tina weymouth, that was new york.
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Come down, come down, come down from your rain cloud. You're always rainin' on me babe. It isn't practical up there, what's the use? And if you're in the sky where am I, save, you gotta save it for me now. Rock me rock me rock me rock me Rockaway, rock me to Brighton!, Coney Island dead give away, hey! I feel like there is more- there is more and, and I'm not fully sure, not from New York. everybody moves their body fast they wanna do this city fast, rock me rock me rock me, rock me, you know I'm slow. Get wise, get wise rest sore eyes on petals blue. The waves and the flat lands are too high now.
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Dec 27, 2012
Dec 27, 2012 at 7:06 PM UTC
Come Down, Rock me
Reports are that New York City Has washed out with the tide Give my regards to Broadway The starless Manhattan skyline The coffee shop patrons are oblivious To what is going on outside With latte in hand they don't realize They'll soon be swimming for their yuppie lives All the business men on Wall Street Are stuffing money in suitcases Hoping that they'll double as Life saving flotation All those spotless high fashion models Are in heels trying to run-away It's far too late for that now Shouldn't have gone to work today With Central Park underwater It's now New Yorks finest fishing spot Tossing fishing lines out of every high-rise Using what ever bait they've got From Escargot to caviar Along with diamond rings for shine To attract the fish for that special dish On which the rich can dine Once a place of so much fun The island became it's own ride When Coney Island washed away As New York was pulled out with the tide
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Aug 19, 2013
Aug 19, 2013 at 3:51 PM UTC
In a New York Minute
After the movie, when the lights come up, He takes her powdered hand behind the wings; She, all in yellow, like a buttercup, Lifts her white face, yearns up to him, and clings; And with a silent, gliding step they move Over the footlights, in familiar glare, Panther-like in the Tango whirl of love, He fawning close on her with idiot stare. Swiftly they cross the stage. O lyric ease! The drunken music follows the sure feet, The swaying elbows, intergliding knees, Moving with slow precision on the beat. She was a waitress in a restaurant, He picked her up and taught her how to dance. She feels his arms, lifts an appealing glance, But knows he spent last evening with Zudora; And knows that certain changes are before her. The brilliant spotlight circles them around, Flashing the spangles on her weighted dress. He mimics wooing her, without a sound, Flatters her with a smoothly smiled caress. He fears that she will someday queer his act; Feeling his anger. He will quit her soon. He nods for faster music. He will contract Another partner, under another moon. Meanwhile, 'smooth stuff.' He lets his dry eyes flit Over the yellow faces there below; Maybe he'll cut down on his drinks a bit, Not to annoy her, and spoil the show. . . Zudora, waiting for her turn to come, Watches them from the wings and fatly leers At the girl's younger face, so white and dumb, And the fixed, anguished eyes, ready for tears. She lies beside him, with a false wedding-ring, In a cheap room, with moonlight on the floor; The moonlit curtains remind her much of spring, Of a spring evening on the Coney shore. And while he sleeps, knowing she ought to hate, She still clings to the lover that she knew,- The one that, with a pencil on a plate, Drew a heart and wrote, 'I'd die for you.'
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Turns And Movies: Rose And Murray
After the movie, when the lights come up, He takes her powdered hand behind the wings; She, all in yellow, like a buttercup, Lifts her white face, yearns up to him, and clings; And with a silent, gliding step they move Over the footlights, in familiar glare, Panther-like in the Tango whirl of love, He fawning close on her with idiot stare. Swiftly they cross the stage. O lyric ease! The drunken music follows the sure feet, The swaying elbows, intergliding knees, Moving with slow precision on the beat. She was a waitress in a restaurant, He picked her up and taught her how to dance. She feels his arms, lifts an appealing glance, But knows he spent last evening with Zudora; And knows that certain changes are before her. The brilliant spotlight circles them around, Flashing the spangles on her weighted dress. He mimics wooing her, without a sound, Flatters her with a smoothly smiled caress. He fears that she will someday queer his act; Feeling his anger. He will quit her soon. He nods for faster music. He will contract Another partner, under another moon. Meanwhile, 'smooth stuff.' He lets his dry eyes flit Over the yellow faces there below; Maybe he'll cut down on his drinks a bit, Not to annoy her, and spoil the show. . . Zudora, waiting for her turn to come, Watches them from the wings and fatly leers At the girl's younger face, so white and dumb, And the fixed, anguished eyes, ready for tears. She lies beside him, with a false wedding-ring, In a cheap room, with moonlight on the floor; The moonlit curtains remind her much of spring, Of a spring evening on the Coney shore. And while he sleeps, knowing she ought to hate, She still clings to the lover that she knew,- The one that, with a pencil on a plate, Drew a heart and wrote, 'I'd die for you.'
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41
It was a cold day, overcast with a few rain showers here and there, I picked you up from Penn Station, dragged you to the subway steps, led you down the tunnel, onto the train. You asked me where we were going, I wouldn't let you in on the secret. One train. Another train... You saw the last stop and knew right where I was taking you. Coney Island. You looked from the sign, then back at me, your eyes lit up right then, a smile crossing your face, you knew i'd been trying to get you there. We took the long train ride, Manhattan to Brooklyn, a quiet ride, we enjoyed each others silence, only feelings left to feel. Finally pulled into the station, 'Mermaid Ave.' read the sign, our kinda place, this was our time. The boardwalk was practically empty, on this cold and windy day, everyone taking shelter from the rain. I led you to the beach, the sand hollowed from the drops that fell, you looked at me doubtingly, asking with your eyes, 'how will this help?' I pulled off my green sweater, you looked at me in shock, threw you a smile, off with my boots, you stood there, watching me undress, not knowing what to do, not knowing my next move. I was down to my bra and ******* goosebumps covered my flesh, you laughed at my pale skin and it's contrast to the sand. I ran over to you, lifted you up, you started to scream when you realized, every intention of mine was to get you into the water, the salt that is so addicting, just like your name on my lips, you made me set you down, and so that's just what I did. I ran into the water, screeching the whole way in, you laughed at me, stopped abruptly, knew that I was reminding you of who you used to be. I watched from the water as you stripped down, you came running after me, tears streaming, not a sound. You waded right to me, stopped face to face, I pulled you in my arms telling you everything'd be ok.
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Sep 15, 2013
Sep 15, 2013 at 5:27 PM UTC
Coney Island
It was a cold day, overcast with a few rain showers here and there, I picked you up from Penn Station, dragged you to the subway steps, led you down the tunnel, onto the train. You asked me where we were going, I wouldn't let you in on the secret. One train. Another train... You saw the last stop and knew right where I was taking you. Coney Island. You looked from the sign, then back at me, your eyes lit up right then, a smile crossing your face, you knew i'd been trying to get you there. We took the long train ride, Manhattan to Brooklyn, a quiet ride, we enjoyed each others silence, only feelings left to feel. Finally pulled into the station, 'Mermaid Ave.' read the sign, our kinda place, this was our time. The boardwalk was practically empty, on this cold and windy day, everyone taking shelter from the rain. I led you to the beach, the sand hollowed from the drops that fell, you looked at me doubtingly, asking with your eyes, 'how will this help?' I pulled off my green sweater, you looked at me in shock, threw you a smile, off with my boots, you stood there, watching me undress, not knowing what to do, not knowing my next move. I was down to my bra and ******* goosebumps covered my flesh, you laughed at my pale skin and it's contrast to the sand. I ran over to you, lifted you up, you started to scream when you realized, every intention of mine was to get you into the water, the salt that is so addicting, just like your name on my lips, you made me set you down, and so that's just what I did. I ran into the water, screeching the whole way in, you laughed at me, stopped abruptly, knew that I was reminding you of who you used to be. I watched from the water as you stripped down, you came running after me, tears streaming, not a sound. You waded right to me, stopped face to face, I pulled you in my arms telling you everything'd be ok.
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64
Running naked through the ruins of Detroit, deep embrace against a graffitied wall. The clink of spent bottles chime with passion's song, and echoed down a forgotten hall. Bombed out, Nagasakieque, sur-reality, a strange and desolate aphrodisiac. Ghosts watch our post-apocalyptic tryst, through every wrecking ball crack. With patchouli scented hair of reddish brown, she's taken me to the forgotten side of town. Paradise, hidden among the rubble. But only for the discerning eye. Her pen painted poetic justice here, and tried to reveal the reasons why. Street coney's and cold bottles of Stroh's could not be scuttled in the wake. Its someone's hometown, no matter what, though it looks like hell for heaven's sake. With patchouli scented hair of reddish brown she's taken me to the forgotten side of town. Like some lost and lonely stray, she takes it in, dusts it off, and holds it to her heart. Sees promise in every burnt out factory, and hope in every unattended park. Empty crack houses sleep down the darkened alleyways, like effigies awaiting to be burned. The clock tower is stuck on borrowed time, with hands waiting to be turned. With patchouli scented hair of reddish brown she's taken me to the forgotten side of town. And on our cardboard mattress and the last few sips of wine, the stars never looked so good to me, her body never so fine. Perfection amid controlled chaos, eloquent profanities. She dances naked in the moonlight, and quelled our insanities. With patchouli scented hair of reddish brown she's taken me to the forgotten side of town. Inspired by "Ghost Gardens" a poem by Rebecca Askew
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Jun 2, 2014
Jun 2, 2014 at 10:01 AM UTC
The Forgotten Side Of Town
Running naked through the ruins of Detroit, deep embrace against a graffitied wall. The clink of spent bottles chime with passion's song, and echoed down a forgotten hall. Bombed out, Nagasakieque, sur-reality, a strange and desolate aphrodisiac. Ghosts watch our post-apocalyptic tryst, through every wrecking ball crack. With patchouli scented hair of reddish brown, she's taken me to the forgotten side of town. Paradise, hidden among the rubble. But only for the discerning eye. Her pen painted poetic justice here, and tried to reveal the reasons why. Street coney's and cold bottles of Stroh's could not be scuttled in the wake. Its someone's hometown, no matter what, though it looks like hell for heaven's sake. With patchouli scented hair of reddish brown she's taken me to the forgotten side of town. Like some lost and lonely stray, she takes it in, dusts it off, and holds it to her heart. Sees promise in every burnt out factory, and hope in every unattended park. Empty crack houses sleep down the darkened alleyways, like effigies awaiting to be burned. The clock tower is stuck on borrowed time, with hands waiting to be turned. With patchouli scented hair of reddish brown she's taken me to the forgotten side of town. And on our cardboard mattress and the last few sips of wine, the stars never looked so good to me, her body never so fine. Perfection amid controlled chaos, eloquent profanities. She dances naked in the moonlight, and quelled our insanities. With patchouli scented hair of reddish brown she's taken me to the forgotten side of town. Inspired by "Ghost Gardens" a poem by Rebecca Askew
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41
You’re aged thirty-two with your own bottomless bank account. A pocket full of cash that’s digging a deep immeasurable pit into your pocket. Spending ridiculous amounts on ridiculous things, no matter if it costs over a million. You’re aged thirty-two with your own supercharged automobile. Fresh new stainless steel alloys and rubber tires to burn at the turn of the diamond studded steering wheel. Chasing the marks on the road as you drive off into your own endless oblivion. You’re aged thirty-two with your own house in New York. The doors of which let hundreds of guests pass through night after night into the never-ending carnivals rides of Coney Island. But when they leave you standing alone on your peer, pensively pondering your past, Reaching out for her green light across the misty filled lake. Trying to work out how to bring her back, but only this time making it last. She’s just across on the other side of the bay, With no idea that the hole in her back is being burned by the fires of your eyes. As you stand disguised staring into her yellow solar flare hair in the morning sunrise. You’re aged thirty-two with an unfilled heart. Longing for the girl that you should have never left in the start. But she’s with someone new and she’s probably forgotten all about that year she spent with you. You're just the distant memory reaching across the bay, The one that the whisperers say was a lonely millionaire aged only thirty-two.
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May 21, 2013
May 21, 2013 at 11:29 AM UTC
You're Aged Thirty-Two.
After the movie, when the lights come up, He takes her powdered hand behind the wings; She, all in yellow, like a buttercup, Lifts her white face, yearns up to him, and clings; And with a silent, gliding step they move Over the footlights, in familiar glare, Panther-like in the Tango whirl of love, He fawning close on her with idiot stare. Swiftly they cross the stage. O lyric ease! The drunken music follows the sure feet, The swaying elbows, intergliding knees, Moving with slow precision on the beat. She was a waitress in a restaurant, He picked her up and taught her how to dance. She feels his arms, lifts an appealing glance, But knows he spent last evening with Zudora; And knows that certain changes are before her. The brilliant spotlight circles them around, Flashing the spangles on her weighted dress. He mimics wooing her, without a sound, Flatters her with a smoothly smiled caress. He fears that she will someday queer his act; Feeling his anger. He will quit her soon. He nods for faster music. He will contract Another partner, under another moon. Meanwhile, 'smooth stuff.' He lets his dry eyes flit Over the yellow faces there below; Maybe he'll cut down on his drinks a bit, Not to annoy her, and spoil the show. . . Zudora, waiting for her turn to come, Watches them from the wings and fatly leers At the girl's younger face, so white and dumb, And the fixed, anguished eyes, ready for tears. She lies beside him, with a false wedding-ring, In a cheap room, with moonlight on the floor; The moonlit curtains remind her much of spring, Of a spring evening on the Coney shore. And while he sleeps, knowing she ought to hate, She still clings to the lover that she knew,-- The one that, with a pencil on a plate, Drew a heart and wrote, 'I'd die for you.'
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999
Rose And Murray
After the movie, when the lights come up, He takes her powdered hand behind the wings; She, all in yellow, like a buttercup, Lifts her white face, yearns up to him, and clings; And with a silent, gliding step they move Over the footlights, in familiar glare, Panther-like in the Tango whirl of love, He fawning close on her with idiot stare. Swiftly they cross the stage. O lyric ease! The drunken music follows the sure feet, The swaying elbows, intergliding knees, Moving with slow precision on the beat. She was a waitress in a restaurant, He picked her up and taught her how to dance. She feels his arms, lifts an appealing glance, But knows he spent last evening with Zudora; And knows that certain changes are before her. The brilliant spotlight circles them around, Flashing the spangles on her weighted dress. He mimics wooing her, without a sound, Flatters her with a smoothly smiled caress. He fears that she will someday queer his act; Feeling his anger. He will quit her soon. He nods for faster music. He will contract Another partner, under another moon. Meanwhile, 'smooth stuff.' He lets his dry eyes flit Over the yellow faces there below; Maybe he'll cut down on his drinks a bit, Not to annoy her, and spoil the show. . . Zudora, waiting for her turn to come, Watches them from the wings and fatly leers At the girl's younger face, so white and dumb, And the fixed, anguished eyes, ready for tears. She lies beside him, with a false wedding-ring, In a cheap room, with moonlight on the floor; The moonlit curtains remind her much of spring, Of a spring evening on the Coney shore. And while he sleeps, knowing she ought to hate, She still clings to the lover that she knew,-- The one that, with a pencil on a plate, Drew a heart and wrote, 'I'd die for you.'
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41
Round and Round we go This story might be a bus you know It involves an amusement park But let me narrate to give you the start It was when I was young visiting Coney Island There were rides galore But what caught my attention was a bus for sure There were many vehicles, but it was that one Volkswagen Bus It was that bus I wanted to ride being an absolute must Since I am bus lover I had to ride that multi Vehicle Merry Go Round As I stepped in, for me it was an adventure to begin So I was at the steering wheel I had to get that driver feel Yet, every time some kid wanted to control I had firm and was plain bold That bus was my sheer delight In fact, it was total excite I was smiling like a bright light Buses have always been my passion But that specific vehicles go round I was never forget I am thinking with no regret However, it was the bus that captured my heart The vision being a bus My enjoyment having no fuss It was simply that Volkswagen bus It’s a passion I said, and the bus wheeling being remembered A bus a bus, but there are many bus fans, and this is the illustration of us.
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Apr 7, 2018
Apr 7, 2018 at 1:57 PM UTC
BUS MERRY GO ROUND