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"dartmouth" poems
*in the midst of an emerald slumbering forest laced with pungent scents of jaded wood a burgundy blushed tail of a chestnut hued fox scurries as copper sunbeams part the day a hospital lumes starkly nearby its aura exudes hints of melancholy commingled with faint impressions of halcyon futures not yet lived at neighboring dartmouth a student sprinting to class drops his crimson colored backpack the prospect of cancer far from his budding consciousness my beloved sits patiently pondering pensively his last chemo treatment elusion of death not far from his mind i feign to fend off future catastrophes watching letters scramble across my screen earnestly writing in a desperate attempt to be with him forevermore an aquamarine hummingbird drenched in tranquility senses the inverse its amber tipped wings stand seemingly stationary while it steals a quick glance through the window curious at chemical infusions meant to heal my beloved walks out of the austere building with rose colored glasses i feel that we’ll whirl on the tips of gilded stardust dancing with another chance to fly ©2016janetaylor
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Apr 30, 2016
Apr 30, 2016 at 1:19 AM UTC
last trip to chemo
Hail, happy day, when, smiling like the morn, Fair Freedom rose New-England to adorn: The northern clime beneath her genial ray, Dartmouth, congratulates thy blissful sway: Elate with hope her race no longer mourns, Each soul expands, each grateful ***** burns, While in thine hand with pleasure we behold The silken reins, and Freedom’s charms unfold. Long lost to realms beneath the northern skies She shines supreme, while hated faction dies: Soon as appear’d the Goddess long desir’d, Sick at the view, she languish’d and expir’d; Thus from the splendors of the morning light The owl in sadness seeks the caves of night. No more, America, in mournful strain Of wrongs, and grievance unredress’d complain, No longer shalt thou dread the iron chain, Which wanton Tyranny with lawless hand Had made, and with it meant t’ enslave the land. Should you, my lord, while you peruse my song, Wonder from whence my love of Freedom sprung, Whence flow these wishes for the common good, By feeling hearts alone best understood, I, young in life, by seeming cruel fate Was snatch’d from Afric’s fancy’d happy seat: What pangs excruciating must ****** What sorrows labour in my parent’s breast? Steel’d was that soul and by no misery mov’d That from a father seiz’d his babe belov’d: Such, such my case. And can I then but pray Others may never feel tyrannic sway? For favours past, great Sir, our thanks are due, And thee we ask thy favours to renew, Since in thy pow’r, as in thy will before, To sooth the griefs, which thou did’st once deplore. May heav’nly grace the sacred sanction give To all thy works, and thou for ever live Not only on the wings of fleeting Fame, Though praise immortal crowns the patriot’s name, But to conduct to heav’ns refulgent fane, May fiery coursers sweep th’ ethereal plain, And bear thee upwards to that blest abode, Where, like the prophet, thou shalt find thy God.
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4.6k
To The Right Honourable William, Earl Of Dartmouth, His Majesty’s Principal Secretary Of State For North-America, &c.
Hail, happy day, when, smiling like the morn, Fair Freedom rose New-England to adorn: The northern clime beneath her genial ray, Dartmouth, congratulates thy blissful sway: Elate with hope her race no longer mourns, Each soul expands, each grateful ***** burns, While in thine hand with pleasure we behold The silken reins, and Freedom’s charms unfold. Long lost to realms beneath the northern skies She shines supreme, while hated faction dies: Soon as appear’d the Goddess long desir’d, Sick at the view, she languish’d and expir’d; Thus from the splendors of the morning light The owl in sadness seeks the caves of night. No more, America, in mournful strain Of wrongs, and grievance unredress’d complain, No longer shalt thou dread the iron chain, Which wanton Tyranny with lawless hand Had made, and with it meant t’ enslave the land. Should you, my lord, while you peruse my song, Wonder from whence my love of Freedom sprung, Whence flow these wishes for the common good, By feeling hearts alone best understood, I, young in life, by seeming cruel fate Was snatch’d from Afric’s fancy’d happy seat: What pangs excruciating must ****** What sorrows labour in my parent’s breast? Steel’d was that soul and by no misery mov’d That from a father seiz’d his babe belov’d: Such, such my case. And can I then but pray Others may never feel tyrannic sway? For favours past, great Sir, our thanks are due, And thee we ask thy favours to renew, Since in thy pow’r, as in thy will before, To sooth the griefs, which thou did’st once deplore. May heav’nly grace the sacred sanction give To all thy works, and thou for ever live Not only on the wings of fleeting Fame, Though praise immortal crowns the patriot’s name, But to conduct to heav’ns refulgent fane, May fiery coursers sweep th’ ethereal plain, And bear thee upwards to that blest abode, Where, like the prophet, thou shalt find thy God.
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43
We've got bagpipes and buskers, cannons, and clip. Lots of marijuana, and tons of tall ships. Plenty of seafood, and point pleasent park. It looks pretty lame, until the streets become dark. Weve got the Citadel hill, and pavilion kids. lockups, and lockdown. All things that we did. Plenty of days, where we fell on our *** , smokin dope in the glade, and layin on grass. With colt 45, and 151. Alexander keiths, and malibou *** Weve all jumped a fence, and swam chocolate lake. No other province could handle the risks that we take. Cause were crazy,obviously, were maritimers. Dartmouth, and spryfeild.. Hell, our schools are the worst. But its halifax, Nova scotia. We do it our way. Live like the east coast, Cause i do everyday.
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Mar 1, 2013
Mar 1, 2013 at 3:43 PM UTC
For my Maritimers.
a refugee from wealth, he and his Dartmouth degree found the spot farthest from his New England roots, and the first roots he saw there were those of a banyan tree, giant gray tentacles piercing the Asian earth, imploring the black soil for atonement, he thought the natives said the tree was older than God immortal, but cursed with some blight that bedeviled them and that prudent pruning of ailing arms would be wise the man had only a Swiss Army knife   with its minuscule saw, but soon he set about the task of trimming the behemoth, one mad millimeter at a time, and mad was all the natives saw this white creature, high in the canopy, often from dawn until the sun sank in the jungle behind him sawing away, a half branch a day, treating the gargantuan arboreal like a prize bonsai villagers would come, hunker, watch in the shade of the tree once in a great while, they would see a branch crash on the ground, at which time they cheered the pitifully patient woodsman many offered to help, some leaving bow saws, axes at the banyans' base, but he would have none of that over and over he received new red knives with their tiny saws these parcels the only mail he got even during monsoon rains, the man's labors did not desist though his audience waned appearing to defy physics' uncertain laws the tree was nearly felled, but the man disappeared before his colossal task was done, the locals claiming he climbed into the thinned canopy one day and never came down not even a well worn blade was found allowing the witnesses to aver he was yet high in the heavens resting after love's labor had wearied his hands   but perchance healed his heart
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Nov 17, 2015
Nov 17, 2015 at 2:46 PM UTC
Jack and the...banyan tree
a refugee from wealth, he and his Dartmouth degree found the spot farthest from his New England roots, and the first roots he saw there were those of a banyan tree, giant gray tentacles piercing the Asian earth, imploring the black soil for atonement, he thought the natives said the tree was older than God immortal, but cursed with some blight that bedeviled them and that prudent pruning of ailing arms would be wise the man had only a Swiss Army knife   with its minuscule saw, but soon he set about the task of trimming the behemoth, one mad millimeter at a time, and mad was all the natives saw this white creature, high in the canopy, often from dawn until the sun sank in the jungle behind him sawing away, a half branch a day, treating the gargantuan arboreal like a prize bonsai villagers would come, hunker, watch in the shade of the tree once in a great while, they would see a branch crash on the ground, at which time they cheered the pitifully patient woodsman many offered to help, some leaving bow saws, axes at the banyans' base, but he would have none of that over and over he received new red knives with their tiny saws these parcels the only mail he got even during monsoon rains, the man's labors did not desist though his audience waned appearing to defy physics' uncertain laws the tree was nearly felled, but the man disappeared before his colossal task was done, the locals claiming he climbed into the thinned canopy one day and never came down not even a well worn blade was found allowing the witnesses to aver he was yet high in the heavens resting after love's labor had wearied his hands   but perchance healed his heart
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35
we are connected, it may not be blood but there is something it draws us together closer than ever we talked everyday, for the age difference didn't bother us until the day you graduated and went away to dartmouth leaving me alone, in high school with the stereotypical preps i miss you everyday with all my heart those texts don't compare to those moments we shared that year i will never forget what we had late night snapchats and procrastination tacos i miss you everyday.
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May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 10:34 PM UTC
soulmates
I rub that stress up off my temple, I'm off the tip Lay back and taking a wonderful trip, with a pen and pad, I’m speaking that "Do you feel this" and my vault stays set off that realness So I hit them for real with the quickness, tying false individuals in stitches Realize the fact but please come precise, because I could be relentless Suspicion, coming up on some recognition that’s why I'm creeping from behind With a towel soaked with ammonia, non-fiction, I'm all prepared to go for mine So step in line, a couple of hits, brains dismissed, I change faces like I change places With a gingsu blade, I'll slit your throat just like them Dartmouth ****** cases Invisible traces, but I wasn’t committed cause there was no evidence Minor scent of that formaldehyde, and I can almost sense the obsession What's the answer to the question? Get tested, don't come if you can’t come correct It's that dog eat dog type life, so I don't know what you were expected Nevermore so wreck less, nevertheless I'm a saint in a bulletproof vest, sick Letting it all hang down, straight pound for pound, you need to take a step down 80 caliber rounds, I'm running around through your whole town Terminating them down like Black Ops 2 set on death match with an AN-94 Disposing these clowns and their bodies will be hard to find That’s all coming from an ill-stricken mind, complex by design But uncovered by pride, so let it be known that I’m sneaky with a loaded tech-nine Dark and morbid style with a touch of realism that’s from my circle Blow smoke from that purple, for you none marijuana smokers that’s that herbal Essence, confessing my worldly fix but that’s a true and serious recelection. Never stressing Just detecting fake characters who claim they’re real but just need to learn a real lesson
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Mar 8, 2014
Mar 8, 2014 at 6:04 PM UTC
Mind games
I rub that stress up off my temple, I'm off the tip Lay back and taking a wonderful trip, with a pen and pad, I’m speaking that "Do you feel this" and my vault stays set off that realness So I hit them for real with the quickness, tying false individuals in stitches Realize the fact but please come precise, because I could be relentless Suspicion, coming up on some recognition that’s why I'm creeping from behind With a towel soaked with ammonia, non-fiction, I'm all prepared to go for mine So step in line, a couple of hits, brains dismissed, I change faces like I change places With a gingsu blade, I'll slit your throat just like them Dartmouth ****** cases Invisible traces, but I wasn’t committed cause there was no evidence Minor scent of that formaldehyde, and I can almost sense the obsession What's the answer to the question? Get tested, don't come if you can’t come correct It's that dog eat dog type life, so I don't know what you were expected Nevermore so wreck less, nevertheless I'm a saint in a bulletproof vest, sick Letting it all hang down, straight pound for pound, you need to take a step down 80 caliber rounds, I'm running around through your whole town Terminating them down like Black Ops 2 set on death match with an AN-94 Disposing these clowns and their bodies will be hard to find That’s all coming from an ill-stricken mind, complex by design But uncovered by pride, so let it be known that I’m sneaky with a loaded tech-nine Dark and morbid style with a touch of realism that’s from my circle Blow smoke from that purple, for you none marijuana smokers that’s that herbal Essence, confessing my worldly fix but that’s a true and serious recelection. Never stressing Just detecting fake characters who claim they’re real but just need to learn a real lesson
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24
My then boyfriend Now husband Never forgave you for putting your hand on my thigh, Casually mentioning the ******* beaches in the south of France. Your daughter needed a chaperone on your family’s upcoming vacation. You went and I stayed of course The ******* beach all the poorer for my absence. I am not the kind of girl who Finds herself at Disney Paris at the end of the movie. That’s not the way this movie ends, anyhow. 12 years later One lung lighter Tens of millions denser and poised to send your daughter to Dartmouth Or Tulane Or anywhere she’d rather. She’ll have everything the world could offer her In exchange for her father. A parent shouldn’t have to know. So I forgave you the hand thing And the lewdness of a drunken survivor Poised on the lip of an ever-widening hole. If you asked to take me now, I think I’d go. I’ve always wanted to see the Louvre. I can almost hear it: The clicking heels and murmurs, Your overwrought humanities professor explanations of this or that and me humoring you with appropriate reverence as always, And the dead certain silence of the thing we will not speak about, Pointedly conspicuous in its absence, Filling the space between.
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Feb 23, 2022
Feb 23, 2022 at 2:43 AM UTC
Poem 100
Avertable impact Ripped open lid The fuse lit And die they did Imo Mont-Blanc The harbor a carcass Their treasures sunk Dartmouth Richmond Tufts Cove One last gasp in the sun Wretched captains As kings who fought over Duchess of Aquitaine Everything to lose Nothing to gain "She may one day queen it over that fair demesne..."
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Aug 19, 2020
Aug 19, 2020 at 10:56 AM UTC
Halifax Maritime Disaster, 1917
Head buzzing,hand shaking,skin flaking,brain taking,body swimming,belly swelling and this constant drinking's telling tales on me,it's time I packed it in and drank some tea instead,but maybe just another ***** before I go to bed.tomorrow, so they say is another weekday,weakday,bleakday,blink and take a careful look day and not a day to mess about with me day,I want a strifeless, lifemore,more than this an open lifedoor,it's what I'm aiming for, just got to sober up.
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Feb 3, 2014
Feb 3, 2014 at 7:44 AM UTC
Late train to Dartmouth
i want to be everything all at once forever — casually, like: **** dude, they said you could be president, too? i’ll rock paper scissors you for it i **** at rock paper scissors, but i **** more at sticking with things that only make me ½, ⅓, ¼ happy not to mention things i’m bad at but do you even know how good i am at a subject you don’t teach? columbia, harvard, princeton, yale, brown, dartmouth, upenn, and cornell do they just don’t know they do, so shhh. i wrote someone else’s name on those essays i don’t care who knows mine, i’m just trying to keep it out of the obituaries just one more year ‘till i’m too old to die young — but who’s counting? not me, not me, not me.
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May 17, 2016
May 17, 2016 at 12:52 AM UTC
casually
I'm searching for home. Dartmouth where have you gone? I no longer can feel the subtle touch of her fingertips gliding up and down my arms. Never again will I feel her warmth down my neck as she slowly breathes in a deep sleep. I envy him who took her away. Who didn't keep her.
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Mar 25, 2016
Mar 25, 2016 at 12:59 PM UTC
Home?
it's always hard to be the one left behind i feel as if i have been left in the dust for you are all gone off to stanford and dartmouth you go but i am still here i now walk down the hallway alone as do you for i miss you and i'll always be with you wherever you go
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May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 10:39 PM UTC
the younger friend