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"creat" poems
My Existence can be summed up as a broken robot beyond repair Useless Rally works and when it does ***** up the job. Left behind as trash. No one wants it. Could be used to creat new, probably shouldn't the new will start broken. Over all I am nothing but, a broken robot beyond repair.
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Jan 2, 2019
Jan 2, 2019 at 12:45 PM UTC
Broken robot
Ro- mance is in the air – or so they say at this time of year in the heart of the Thousand Islands. No- thing quite welcomes summer like the morning smell of seaweed fresh- ly caught on some vacationer’s pro- pellers - excess water draining from the boat’s engine, creat- ing sporadic puddles up the street. I see no romance in Alex Bay – too many tourists; too old, too young – No young lovers. Not E- nough privacy in the souvenir shops or bustling streets for young lovers to embrace and watch the sun set or rise off the Dock of the Bay. Mother duck leading her ducklings towards the bread crumbs the old- er generation has cast aside for them in the fishy water. Kids just don’t know what ro- mance is anymore. Perhaps because Spring is ending and not be- ginning. I must find the romance in these islands. There was a story passed down through the years of Boldt and his lady and Hart Island. He re-named it Heart Island and with his millions he made it just that. A castle he built her, a Play- house for the kids. Gardens and walkways, a Yacht House, a Tower. All this he built for his love. Can you imagine, waking up every morning to the smell, the sounds of an island called yours? In the midst of the St. Lawrence, the freshness, the cool, the sun beating down on your grass, your estate. How ro- mantic an idea. Of the one-thousand, seven-hundred and ninety-three islands, this one be- longs to you and your love. To travel by Ferry each day to the Bay, to dine every night at Cav- allario’s Seafood and Steak. Oh the wonders of Alex Bay – I found romance after all.
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Jan 31, 2011
Jan 31, 2011 at 4:19 PM UTC
The Heart of the Thousand Islands
Ro- mance is in the air – or so they say at this time of year in the heart of the Thousand Islands. No- thing quite welcomes summer like the morning smell of seaweed fresh- ly caught on some vacationer’s pro- pellers - excess water draining from the boat’s engine, creat- ing sporadic puddles up the street. I see no romance in Alex Bay – too many tourists; too old, too young – No young lovers. Not E- nough privacy in the souvenir shops or bustling streets for young lovers to embrace and watch the sun set or rise off the Dock of the Bay. Mother duck leading her ducklings towards the bread crumbs the old- er generation has cast aside for them in the fishy water. Kids just don’t know what ro- mance is anymore. Perhaps because Spring is ending and not be- ginning. I must find the romance in these islands. There was a story passed down through the years of Boldt and his lady and Hart Island. He re-named it Heart Island and with his millions he made it just that. A castle he built her, a Play- house for the kids. Gardens and walkways, a Yacht House, a Tower. All this he built for his love. Can you imagine, waking up every morning to the smell, the sounds of an island called yours? In the midst of the St. Lawrence, the freshness, the cool, the sun beating down on your grass, your estate. How ro- mantic an idea. Of the one-thousand, seven-hundred and ninety-three islands, this one be- longs to you and your love. To travel by Ferry each day to the Bay, to dine every night at Cav- allario’s Seafood and Steak. Oh the wonders of Alex Bay – I found romance after all.
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64
Hello sweetheart daddy is working very hard to creat a better world for you to creat a better avenue an avenue where you  will have all you want and deserves an avenue where you will go to school worth going an avenue where you will drive a car worth driving an avenue where you will go places worth going sweetheart pray to God as you are still there with Him to bless daddy so that daddy can meet and hook up with mum soon hope to hook up with mum soon i love you sweetheart and  i know mum loves you too i love you pumpkin even when you are not here yet we know the joy and happiness u will bring to mum and daddy i love you..........from daddy
0
Jan 12, 2014
Jan 12, 2014 at 3:18 AM UTC
OPEN LETTER TO MY UNBORN CHILD
* arcanum arcanarom, argumentum ad hominem animal disputans, dixi.., animal bipes implume cessante causa cessat et effectus, damnant quod non inteligunt audiatur et altera pars, hominus libenter quod volunt credunt multi famam, consientiam pauci verentur boni pastoris est tondere pecus, non deglubere bonum virum facile crederes, magnum libenter non omnes qui habent citharam sunt citharoedi currente calamo, cave quid dicis, quando, et cui gigni de nihilo nihil, in nihilum nil posse reverti ** ..love always...* عرفان بن يوسف © AH 14/03/1432 **
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Jan 11, 2016
Jan 11, 2016 at 11:28 AM UTC
..saepe creat molles aspera spina roses...
I am a result Of not two people I am a result of advertisements Of politicians Of company's Of ideas drilled into my head, by constant repotion and threats from authority figures I am a result of headlines that scream the words **** death, racesim and terror. I am a result of built up hopes. The countless movies that show us heros that conqure the impossible, while slowly walking away form an explosion. The comic books that boldly display abilitys we then dream of. Expectations we are forced to have that someday we will save the world. I am the result of reality hitting you full on like a world saving superman punch, I am the result of relizing, that there is a 99.9999999999% chance I am not the "chosen one" I am the result of an enviroment where I have to hold my breath to not let the toxins in The overdose headlines The children I see inhaling away there future and when I walk by blowing it in my face I am the result of an overdose that ripped away my uncle A world filled with misery and we find this the best way to "cure" it. I am a result filled with images of diffrent family's breaking apart, leaving broken children behind. A result witnessing the hurt, homeless and heartless walk on the same ground but don't awknoladge it The veterans thrown to the streets The gay pride rainbows coverd in the dark clouds of pregiduce this world is shadowed by The sour taste of racesim lingering on individual tongues trying to break through a wall of common sense The weaponising of wonderful wise wishful young children around the world to creat a fearful, fierce, fiery killing machine I am a result of this world, the mistakes we all make, the suffering we all take, the lives these mistakes put at stake, these wounds that ache, the cusses that spin in children's head thanks to drake, these politicians people see as lying snakes, this earth that quakes, that brings us awake I am a result, in a world of results Of hope that one day we can push these fears away I am a result of an army of dreamers A horde of lovers And a croud of carers I am a result of two people who tried hard enough to make a difference They are my sheild and my sword equipping me to fight this poisend world We are what's left we are the dreamers the workers and the lovers and once were done fighting away the hurt, evil,terror and pain, We can look out on this world and call it Our result
0
Mar 11, 2014
Mar 11, 2014 at 8:52 PM UTC
Result
I am a result Of not two people I am a result of advertisements Of politicians Of company's Of ideas drilled into my head, by constant repotion and threats from authority figures I am a result of headlines that scream the words **** death, racesim and terror. I am a result of built up hopes. The countless movies that show us heros that conqure the impossible, while slowly walking away form an explosion. The comic books that boldly display abilitys we then dream of. Expectations we are forced to have that someday we will save the world. I am the result of reality hitting you full on like a world saving superman punch, I am the result of relizing, that there is a 99.9999999999% chance I am not the "chosen one" I am the result of an enviroment where I have to hold my breath to not let the toxins in The overdose headlines The children I see inhaling away there future and when I walk by blowing it in my face I am the result of an overdose that ripped away my uncle A world filled with misery and we find this the best way to "cure" it. I am a result filled with images of diffrent family's breaking apart, leaving broken children behind. A result witnessing the hurt, homeless and heartless walk on the same ground but don't awknoladge it The veterans thrown to the streets The gay pride rainbows coverd in the dark clouds of pregiduce this world is shadowed by The sour taste of racesim lingering on individual tongues trying to break through a wall of common sense The weaponising of wonderful wise wishful young children around the world to creat a fearful, fierce, fiery killing machine I am a result of this world, the mistakes we all make, the suffering we all take, the lives these mistakes put at stake, these wounds that ache, the cusses that spin in children's head thanks to drake, these politicians people see as lying snakes, this earth that quakes, that brings us awake I am a result, in a world of results Of hope that one day we can push these fears away I am a result of an army of dreamers A horde of lovers And a croud of carers I am a result of two people who tried hard enough to make a difference They are my sheild and my sword equipping me to fight this poisend world We are what's left we are the dreamers the workers and the lovers and once were done fighting away the hurt, evil,terror and pain, We can look out on this world and call it Our result
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35
(for Daisy, a true companion to poet rr) in the city, we fight daily the toughest of hombres, brown, grayed, mottled city pigeons, who fear no human predator, in the fight for the crumbs and crusts of inspiration however, they may come our way get a message, a post, with the words “a good create” the words form a chord, in my throat, taut, visible, tense even knowing it’s likely a typo, probably meant “creature,.” but the phrase strikes me as one too little spoke in our diurnal drudgery numbing~dumbing struggle, but, I take them as (a) writ, for the crumb of challenge proffered if we cannot justify our existence, daily with a new create, then incumbent upon us to cherish, double and thrice, the good and wonderful creates, the surround us been decades since my body was warmed by the shape of an animal’s curves fitted into mine, our sleep rhythm intertwined, nay, one <> so once again, I mourn a living poem who crossed my path in photo, in words, but never, not in, living color but the sighs of loss, real *so as is my wont, inquire within, where shelter? in the love we create tween us and our* creatures.
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Jan 3, 2024
Jan 3, 2024 at 10:56 AM UTC
“a good create” (for Daisy, a true companion)
She is mad He loves her madness She has anger at the tip of her nose He find this as very cute She is an introvert That what make him a ditective of her mysterious world. She creat arts He collects all of them She lives in her own world That is all his world to him However, He love her like any lover and she love him like no one can
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Sep 11, 2019
Sep 11, 2019 at 10:47 AM UTC
She and Him
I want to explore the stars in your eyes and get lost in forever with the galaxies in your mind. Infinity will always seem impossible, to the average people. We could creat a love that not even infinity can contain. But while I'm gazing at the stars you're too busy waiting for the sunrise.
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May 7, 2015
May 7, 2015 at 5:24 PM UTC
Star Gazing
push the reset button! push the reset button! should i? shouldnt i? i should push this reset button you deserve it you deserve happyness like other people you are very special surely i have to push the reset button to make you happy to creat memories which are better then before i cannot stand by and watch you being so unhappy it was my fault at the first place so it is my responsibility to help you get back to ur feet and walk with u to a certain destination where i wont be able to walk with u it is my responsibility to make sure u happy so i decide to push the reset button
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May 25, 2015
May 25, 2015 at 3:45 PM UTC
RESET BUTTON
'Sticky labels' Each time we redefine a freedom, we simultaneously creat a new boundary and another cultural and social restraint. Boundaries are often useful: Healthy individuals are innately aware of what is right and what is wrong, because we have collectively encouraged them to flourish with love and understanding. Unhealthy individuals cannot discern right from wrong, and a prison has never nurtured anything good! Why not invest in our neighbours right from the START; pulling our communities together honestly, and kindly with open hearts. GOOD THINGS grow from freedom.
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Feb 20, 2021
Feb 20, 2021 at 4:47 AM UTC
Sticky labels.
push the reset button! push the reset button! should i? shouldnt i? i should push this reset button you deserve it you deserve happyness like other people you are very special surely i have to push the reset button to make you happy to creat memories which are better then before i cannot stand by and watch you being so unhappy it was my fault at the first place so it is my responsibility to help you get back to ur feet and walk with u to a certain destination where i wont be able to walk with u it is my responsibility to make sure u happy so i decide to push the reset button
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May 25, 2015
May 25, 2015 at 3:45 PM UTC
RESET BUTTON
I can't think , my pen suspended above blank paper, I can't put to words these jumbled feelings I hate not knowing what to say Hate not knowing the words I need to let all my confusion out I just want to creat the perfect poem But I will never achieve the impossible I want to write until my pen becomes dry I wish I could put every word, verbatim as it enters my mind But I can't, I wish I could put this down But my pen doesn't press against the paper Fireworks do not egnite as I write No one wants to listen No one wants to feel How do I translate what I feel to words I hate that I read over past written words And feel pain exude I want to write the perfect poem I need to But I never will, maybe my dreams will never Be fulfilled, these words mean nothing Only to me, only I feel these words Only I hear me shouting these words In a room full Maybe wishes get lost Amongst the rest of the unfulfilled dreams
0
Sep 25, 2012
Sep 25, 2012 at 6:03 PM UTC
Perfect poem
Through The Window I Watch The Ticks Of Time From The First Second I Was The One To Blame Was That Stupid Feeling Or My Heart Was Lame Can't Hold It For Seven Days, What A Shame !!! Begone, Cause There Will Be Only Pain To Claim But Make Sure To Slash It To Finish The Crime Seven Days To Creat Earth Seven Days To Make It Worth Seven Doors Takes To Heaven Seven Floors On The Sky Stricken Seven Doors Takes To Hell Seven More To Make It Well I Still Hold My Self On The Top And The Floor Why You keep Hiding Behind A Closed Door Everytime I See You, I Die A Little More It Was Beautiful, It Was Amazing And Pure For That Bright World We Lived Cure I Wanna Shout It From The Roof Top For Sure Why You Can't See Through That Anymore I Wish It Could Be Like That And More Seven Days To Creat Earth Seven Days To Make it Worth Seven Doors Takes To Heaven Seven Floors On The Sky Stricken Seven Doors Takes To Hell Seven More To Make It Well You Are More Beautiful Than The high You Are Too Beautiful For A Human Eye Like Angel, With That Look Of Shy Everyone Can Fall In Love Without A Try Like Angel, With That Smile You Can Fly Going So Far To The Seventh Sky Author/ Aladdin Aures
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Oct 19, 2016
Oct 19, 2016 at 7:03 PM UTC
Seven Days
============================ Anger is like an eruption of volcanoes Molten lava of hate and non-violence disrupting the peace at Syria or Sweden In your and my nation Do we need Judges like U.S.A or U.S.S.R America or Russia or We should become volunteer of peace To cease daily ill will here, there and everywhere Maybe Germany or Greece Let us feed our Good Wolf ~~~Jawahar Gupta~~~
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Apr 8, 2017
Apr 8, 2017 at 12:43 PM UTC
LET US CREAT PEACE
God is the ultimate Artist For I can not creat something this cute Detail Or delecate Swim fish swim.
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Sep 10, 2019
Sep 10, 2019 at 10:27 AM UTC
Ultimate
My soul is an old one I feel it running through my veins The remnants of a thousand years past Each life is a different piece That makes me who I am My soul sings Time after time The age old melody Same song Different tune And their harmonies Creat the symphony That is Me
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Jul 17, 2014
Jul 17, 2014 at 12:55 PM UTC
Past Lives
i have a hidden tallent of my life a singer or the voice that can touch your hearts. my mind thinks up a storm that comes to a plan on a friday afternoon. my voice can only be heard if your heart has the courrage to follow what you want the most. my voice is what my stories come to life. cause my true love came and gave me hope to write this line. my mind thinks first for what salllom words i could think to say to you to touch your heart deep. i know i will proable be alone with my thoughts. but ever word ever said threw my voice i hope it made you go mad with crazy love. night and day come and go but i will never let my smooth gental words leave me. that all i got when i feel abandoned. my hidden voice can make your anger go leaving your life with peace. my hidden talent with my voice can make words stories poems love notes and creat or life memories. my hidden voice can only be heard for the traped broken lies. my hidden voice can lift you off your feet when thinks start getting bad. my hidden voice can heal your soul if your willing to listen to me while i start to write my entire life stories. you will never be alon if your voice meets me down the slop. my hidden voice can do many things but will never be harsh or angery just a loving kind blank page you should start writing to fin me and you with our true love stories
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Nov 22, 2015
Nov 22, 2015 at 5:35 PM UTC
my hidden vocie
For the purity to blow For the neatness to flow For all the clarity to glow, Lets sow more love Lets pour more kindness Lets wipe out all tears. All the beauty is here it is in our hands we can creat smiles we can bring near the better tomorrow for all of us !
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Aug 11, 2019
Aug 11, 2019 at 1:36 AM UTC
For our little earth
i'm not good enouph i don't have the right words i keep writing these stuff to creat my own world
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May 16, 2015
May 16, 2015 at 7:10 PM UTC
pointless.
i am sitting in a dark room infront of my bright blank laptop screen i force my mind to think i push my mind to creat what should i write ? what should i say ? think .. think .. think.. am i being too dramatic? am i complaining too much ? aren't i using the right words? aren't i good enouph ? i guess i'll never be . i better go.. i better leave ...
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May 21, 2015
May 21, 2015 at 5:07 PM UTC
think.. think
Once upon a time Twice upon a memory Thrice upon a wish I wanted a destiny that was intwines with yours But alas, I hardly know you. You enchanted me Bewitched my mind And spelled my affections There is one word I shan't ever utter But if you're my knight in shining armor And I am more than just a step for you to climb Then maybe I will change fate to spend the rest of my life with you. I will creat my own destiny. But I am doomed to failure I may try my best And find motivation But my will power and hope are inconsequential compared to my omnipotent and everlasting sin.
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Mar 26, 2014
Mar 26, 2014 at 2:47 PM UTC
Prophet of sin
As i sit on my knees its vary clear the pain will never leave the sadness willl keep playing with your heart your life will flash in front of your own existence. The cold chills that run down your spine. The love you lost leaving you numb and deeply hurt and broken. Addiction you fill the emptiness deep inside your soul. You tired there no point of careing when everything you creat gets destroyed by people during the day. The money you make seems to slip away when you fall inlove. Control overe you with now escape you want to be loved and held tightly cuddled. But dose love really even exists dose it even have meaning dose it have any real feeling. I have dreams i seek nomatter how hard i work everything around me just crubbles im left to clean up all the broken peices I want to be loved i want to feel what real but this world is just filled with artificial life
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Sep 26, 2018
Sep 26, 2018 at 9:53 PM UTC
The flash of light
It's easy to dream We leap into something unrealistic It turns into something brighter than a sun beam It can be crushed for being so dramatic We let them blow our self esteem If we fail at them we go ballistic They can be our paradise or nightmares, that's how it seems Creat it and let it be idealistic
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Dec 12, 2014
Dec 12, 2014 at 10:31 PM UTC
Some