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"denton" poems
I came along to your garden, to see your chillies growing Unaware of what laid in wait, or what was really showing There stood a glass a lidded drink, familiarity of knowing If that's what I think it is, I don't want it overflowing Do my eyes forsake me, is that a fluid from the body Is that froth of a good beer, or from a head that's shoddy Does it look like what it is, a very dodgy toddy! Ghoulish drinks will turn you green, like Goblins are in Noddy What the hell you thinking off, with water that's distilled It smells like the local gents, so it should not be spilled I don't mind a special brew, but this time I'm not thrilled Unusual cocktails are okay, but not ones you have filled Aren't beverages supposed to be, refreshing and thirst quenching ? You say that it's good to drink, but really it's gut wrenching An endless supply you may have, but it should be toilet drenching Don't ever make a wankers drink, by using a fist clenching You wouldn't want this drink on tap, it defies imagination It's just the same as a lady, drinking her own ************ It maybe the water of life, but it's just urination Aqua vitae is not my idea, of a real drink designation Even just the thought of it, makes me feel sick and hazy To drink a glass of this stuff, you must be ******* crazy Well talk about recycling, or are you just bog lazy Is Harvey Denton related, or do you live in Royston Vasey People like to drink sometimes, is there something I have missed You seem to have your own ideas, but with a certain twist A brand new meaning you have brought, to getting yourself ****** Golden showers are one thing, but that's when your sexually kissed There's one thing I'd like to know, so what do you say Why do you think that drinking **** will keep the germs away It cant be very good for you, it's an inside body spray Your just drinking toilet water, hay Jay are you ****** today ?
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Oct 25, 2018
Oct 25, 2018 at 1:45 PM UTC
Hay Jay, are you ****** today?
I came along to your garden, to see your chillies growing Unaware of what laid in wait, or what was really showing There stood a glass a lidded drink, familiarity of knowing If that's what I think it is, I don't want it overflowing Do my eyes forsake me, is that a fluid from the body Is that froth of a good beer, or from a head that's shoddy Does it look like what it is, a very dodgy toddy! Ghoulish drinks will turn you green, like Goblins are in Noddy What the hell you thinking off, with water that's distilled It smells like the local gents, so it should not be spilled I don't mind a special brew, but this time I'm not thrilled Unusual cocktails are okay, but not ones you have filled Aren't beverages supposed to be, refreshing and thirst quenching ? You say that it's good to drink, but really it's gut wrenching An endless supply you may have, but it should be toilet drenching Don't ever make a wankers drink, by using a fist clenching You wouldn't want this drink on tap, it defies imagination It's just the same as a lady, drinking her own ************ It maybe the water of life, but it's just urination Aqua vitae is not my idea, of a real drink designation Even just the thought of it, makes me feel sick and hazy To drink a glass of this stuff, you must be ******* crazy Well talk about recycling, or are you just bog lazy Is Harvey Denton related, or do you live in Royston Vasey People like to drink sometimes, is there something I have missed You seem to have your own ideas, but with a certain twist A brand new meaning you have brought, to getting yourself ****** Golden showers are one thing, but that's when your sexually kissed There's one thing I'd like to know, so what do you say Why do you think that drinking **** will keep the germs away It cant be very good for you, it's an inside body spray Your just drinking toilet water, hay Jay are you ****** today ?
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32
THE BEAUTIFUL FACE MATLOOB BOKHARI I saw a moving full moon over the sea Then I saw the face of a maiden I stopped and said, “Moon is fair But the sweet magic of her face is Fairer far, which attracted my eyes Captured my heart and won my soul. Moon tries to imitate hr face and Rose tries to copy her lips in vain! She is beautiful,she is most beautiful!" Niamh Dada Land Lovely friend. Many Blessings Michele Vizzotti-White I totally like the first one, it was vivid and I saw how the rose must have felt, they r both awesome and fanciful, a maiden more fair than the moon wow that is a powerful statement, the 1st one reminds me of a painting the second one a song of love, both lovely though Demelia Denton Lovely written words Matloob Bokhari Barbara Shoetaker And is this fair woman still the one who stole you heart? Semeniuk Carole you know how much I love your poetry . your stories .. the way in which only you can tell it ~~ thank you my long time friend, Matloob Bokhari .. wishing you well .. alwayS ! ina Farnworth What a beautiful verse Matloob, thank you so much for Connie Hofacker Hemmerich Senter Thank you, for sharing this lovely poem, Matloob.
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Oct 18, 2014
Oct 18, 2014 at 3:38 AM UTC
THE BEAUTIFUL FACE
it's 11:20 pm it's a moon-risen domain rusty truck of Ford 1978 unlatch the faded tailgate of white and pale turquoise off a Denton N. Elm highway sitting in the heat of the ocean air. The trees but a silhouette and the moon a rustic orange feeling heavy sentiments of cascading hair ending in curls sickly eyes with blue shadow and glazed look that pierced. 2 minutes of absence growing fonder and I wanted it to last for much longer.
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Aug 17, 2014
Aug 17, 2014 at 12:28 AM UTC
I need this.
Got caught in the ordinary, Lost one more year to standing still, Still bowed by the cost we carry, If we don’t run now, we never will. I lost my voice in the silence, I thought that I needed this to heal, As seconds inflict their violence, I’ll try to hold on to what was real, A broken glass to remind me, I covered my tracks to disappear, Got lost where I hope you’ll find me, Still running away to keep you near.
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Oct 21, 2022
Oct 21, 2022 at 6:53 PM UTC
Denton
If I worship more than arch angel but don’t love I have nothing If I give all I have to the poor, but don’t love I have nothing If I have faith which moves mountains,but don’t love I have nothing If I give gold in  alms as big as Ohad but don’t love I have nothing If I die  circumambulating the Kaaba, but don’t love I have nothing If I die fighting  in the holy war, but don’t love I have nothing If I die and buried in the tomb of prophet but don’t love I have nothing If I get land larger than Solomon’s Kingdom,but don’t love I have nothing If I receive God’s healing power like Christ but don’t love I have nothing If I am given un paralleled patience like Ayub but don’t love I have nothing If make sacrifice like Ismael and Hussain but don’t love I have nothing If I am given the kingdom of whole world, but don’t love I have nothing No matter what I have done, no matter what will I do Without wings of love, I cannot soar in the kingdom of God Vincent Boykin I admire your courage in writing about Love in a serious relationship with the spiritual. It's shows your heart and that you understand Love. Love is usually just some word in the cosmos. Love bonds everything in good. Love. Super Poem! It's how I took it. It made my day. Thank you. Demelia Denton An amazing poem Matloob .... Enchanting ...beautifully worded Michele Vizzotti-White I like the fast pace of it, but it still is rich in thought/words
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Oct 14, 2014
Oct 14, 2014 at 1:25 PM UTC
I HAVE NOTHING
MY Place IS Placeless Matloob Bokhari You are moonlight You are fragrance in the breeze I am bewildered to see you I am speechless In the frenzy of my love I am drifting in the sea of your love Now and then ,joy and depression Dark thoughts and light of love I am senseless You and I are inseparable I want to kiss you with tenderness I am helpless I live for you, my love is timeless My heart ,where you are living, Has become a room of prayer All I belong to you! I am a nameless poet My place is placeless! Persian Khushi Sweet and touching Deanna Caroline Bosworth How precious!...Quite the romantic Connie Hofacker Hemmerich Senter Wow, I feel the commitment of your heart...a room of prayer, so very toucing, Matloob. Thank you, for sharing. Fran Ayers So lovely!!.I missed your poetry!! Natasha Nabokov Thank you, . Kiss kiss Barbara Shoetaker You write so passionately. Demelia Denton A writer of many explicit romantic words Matloob Bokhari ~ Beautifully written Lindy Michaels Really lovely...
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Oct 24, 2014
Oct 24, 2014 at 10:44 PM UTC
MY PLACE IS PLACELESS
THESE EYES,THESE BEAUTIFUL EYES When you looked at me The fire of your eyes created Deep waves in the sea of my soul I am drowning deeper and deeper In the wide ocean of infinite love These eyes,these beautiful eyes Made me see deep in the ocean And imbibe wisdom from the sky These eyes,these beautiful eyes Painted kindness on my mind; And inscribed love on my heart These eyes,these beautiful eyes More beautiful than the starry night More sweet than the moonbeam kiss More kind than fragrance of perfumed garden These eyes,these beautiful eyes Marilyn Ann Francis Beautiful....EXCELLENT...MAF Angela Davis Natasha Nabokov Thank you, poets, you make my day Natasha Nabokov It's such a memorable poem, Matloob. Thank you Wow, Matloob, you should post your work in FM Online Magazine, I know that the editor would publish it! Michele Vizzotti-White Writing about eyes is such a great idea and u do it so beautifuly, u go on from the appearance to the way they make one feel in few but rich words, my fav line is the painted kindness in my mind eyes tell so much yet i have not read many poems about them Saalik Siddiqui Fantastic indeed. Demelia Denton Another beautiful poem Matloob Melanie Bingham Chapman very, very nicely written ! Natasha Nabokov Oh, you are so magnificently productive Larry Barmash What would you do if I sang out a tune Perry Alexander Nectar of love.
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Oct 17, 2014
Oct 17, 2014 at 10:25 PM UTC
THESE EYES,THESE BEAUTIFUL EYES
MY Place IS Placeless Matloob Bokhari You are moonlight You are fragrance in the breeze I am bewildered to see you I am speechless In the frenzy of my love I am drifting in the sea of your love Now and then ,joy and depression Dark thoughts and light of love I am senseless You and I are inseparable I want to kiss you with tenderness I am helpless I live for you, my love is timeless My heart ,where you are living, Has become a room of prayer All I belong to you! I am a nameless poet My place is placeless! Persian Khushi Sweet and touching Deanna Caroline Bosworth How precious!...Quite the romantic Connie Hofacker Hemmerich Senter Wow, I feel the commitment of your heart...a room of prayer, so very toucing, Matloob. Thank you, for sharing. Fran Ayers So lovely!!.I missed your poetry!! Natasha Nabokov Thank you, . Kiss kiss Barbara Shoetaker You write so passionately. Demelia Denton A writer of many explicit romantic words Matloob Bokhari ~ Beautifully written Lindy Michaels Really lovely...
0
Oct 11, 2014
Oct 11, 2014 at 10:24 AM UTC
MY PLACE IS PLACELESS
THE BEAUTIFUL FACE MATLOOB BOKHARI I saw a moving full moon over the sea Then I saw the face of a maiden I stopped and said, “Moon is fair But the sweet magic of her face is Fairer far, which attracted my eyes Captured my heart and won my soul. Moon tries to imitate hr face and Rose tries to copy her lips in vain! She is beautiful,she is most beautiful!" Niamh Dada Land Lovely friend. Many Blessings Michele Vizzotti-White I totally like the first one, it was vivid and I saw how the rose must have felt, they r both awesome and fanciful, a maiden more fair than the moon wow that is a powerful statement, the 1st one reminds me of a painting the second one a song of love, both lovely though Demelia Denton Lovely written words Matloob Bokhari Barbara Shoetaker And is this fair woman still the one who stole you heart? Semeniuk Carole you know how much I love your poetry . your stories .. the way in which only you can tell it ~~ thank you my long time friend, Matloob Bokhari .. wishing you well .. alwayS ! ina Farnworth What a beautiful verse Matloob, thank you so much for Connie Hofacker Hemmerich Senter Thank you, for sharing this lovely poem, Matloob.
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Oct 19, 2014
Oct 19, 2014 at 10:15 PM UTC
THE BEAUTIFUL FACE
AN ODE TO A BABY MATLOOB BOKHARI I saw a baby in a valley wet with dews Standing in the wholesome herbs And flowers of fresh hues Plain air was ruffling her hair She was honey sweet and a pure chaste lily No bee has ****** her; no wasp has stung her The valley was alive with the music of stream With flowers so various, so beautiful, so new, So stunning sunlit blue sky, so sweet cool breeze In the valley , the baby was the most delightful flower I praised her with all my heart and with all my mind O sweet heaven, lucky will be the one Who will pass his life with you! Few moments in the valley have made a forever memory Still smell perfume of her beauty when lay awake at night The baby even to date brightens up my soul with her smiles Semeniuk Carole Matloob Bokhari . that is a huge compliment coming from such a worldly writer as you my friend .. .. thank you . You've such a gift ; you are talented; and we are blessed to have the privilege of hearing your stories; experiences; dreams; thoughts ~~ indeed we are .. .. happy weekend my friend PEACE Demelia Denton My goodness Matloob ... so many expressive words you write ... A great mind for words ... very nice Sandra Delussu something worth to keep in your eyes. thanks Matloob Rebecca Longan I love this my friend Matloob Bokhari Christy Noel Feddersen My Grandma Feddersen (God rest her soul) used to call me "Flower". She said I was the first little flower of the Lord. She was wise and filled with Spirit, and taught me many things. I have been thinking a lot about her lately, and this reminded me that she is always with me. Thank you. Debbie Tripp · Friends with Christy Noel Feddersen She is always with you Sunshine \ Sand Tucker Lovely write. It carried me back to when my children were actually children. A sweet journey. Thank you. Karyn Walker I tried to send you what I saw, in your manuscript, dear brother Matloob. From my heart to yours. Stunning lines.
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Oct 24, 2014
Oct 24, 2014 at 11:12 AM UTC
AN ODE TO A BABY
AN ODE TO A BABY MATLOOB BOKHARI I saw a baby in a valley wet with dews Standing in the wholesome herbs And flowers of fresh hues Plain air was ruffling her hair She was honey sweet and a pure chaste lily No bee has ****** her; no wasp has stung her The valley was alive with the music of stream With flowers so various, so beautiful, so new, So stunning sunlit blue sky, so sweet cool breeze In the valley , the baby was the most delightful flower I praised her with all my heart and with all my mind O sweet heaven, lucky will be the one Who will pass his life with you! Few moments in the valley have made a forever memory Still smell perfume of her beauty when lay awake at night The baby even to date brightens up my soul with her smiles Semeniuk Carole Matloob Bokhari . that is a huge compliment coming from such a worldly writer as you my friend .. .. thank you . You've such a gift ; you are talented; and we are blessed to have the privilege of hearing your stories; experiences; dreams; thoughts ~~ indeed we are .. .. happy weekend my friend PEACE Demelia Denton My goodness Matloob ... so many expressive words you write ... A great mind for words ... very nice Sandra Delussu something worth to keep in your eyes. thanks Matloob Rebecca Longan I love this my friend Matloob Bokhari Christy Noel Feddersen My Grandma Feddersen (God rest her soul) used to call me "Flower". She said I was the first little flower of the Lord. She was wise and filled with Spirit, and taught me many things. I have been thinking a lot about her lately, and this reminded me that she is always with me. Thank you. Debbie Tripp · Friends with Christy Noel Feddersen She is always with you Sunshine \ Sand Tucker Lovely write. It carried me back to when my children were actually children. A sweet journey. Thank you. Karyn Walker I tried to send you what I saw, in your manuscript, dear brother Matloob. From my heart to yours. Stunning lines.
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28
IF I LOVE NOT, I HAVE NOTHING MATLOOB BOKHARI If I worship more than arch angel but don’t love I have nothing If I give all I have to the poor, but don’t love I have nothing If I have faith which moves mountains,but don’t love I have nothing If I give gold in alms as big as Ohad but don’t love I have nothing If I die moving around the arc of covenant, but don’t love I have nothing If I die fighting in the holy war, but don’t love I have nothing If I die and buried in the tomb of prophet but don’t love I have nothing If I get land larger than Solomon’s Kingdom,but don’t love I have nothing If I receive God’s healing power like Christ but don’t love I have nothing If I am given un paralleled patience like Ayub but don’t love I have nothing If make sacrifice like Ismael and Hussain but don’t love I have nothing If I am given the kingdom of the world, but don’t love I have nothing No matter what I have done, no matter what will I do Without wings of love, I cannot soar in the kingdom of God Natasha Nabokov: reading your poems, I am reminded of Tagore who is my first love Angela Davis :matloob, your work is so amazing! Laura Luce del:Hello Matloob Thanks., Its an amazing, understandable & great write. I hope you are blessed throughout the rest of yoir life. Never stop writing! ♡LLM Vincent Boykin: I admire your courage in writing about Love in a serious relationship with the spiritual. It's shows your heart and that you understand Love. Love is usually just some word in the cosmos. Love bonds everything in good. Love. Super Poem! It's how I took it. It made my day. Thank you. Demelia Denton: An amazing poem Matloob .... Enchanting ...beautifully worded Michele Vizzotti-White: I like the fast pace of it, but it still is rich in thought/words Fay Slimm: Ah - - how true are these words Mat. - love is all we need and nothing more. An inspiring read. Seyed Mohammad Reza Parhizgar : this is why you are called Matloob, but I have something better than love, and that's God.thanks dear friend I loved your poem. Sara Fielder: I agree, love should be the motivating factor in everything we think, do, and say. The world would be a better place if we all remembered that. Stephen Montgomery : My favorite line is: all I can sense the cogs turning in this sincere post which has come to an understanding; Love must be everything because love conflicts with nothing. Hold everything sacred and nothing suffers
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Oct 18, 2014
Oct 18, 2014 at 12:16 AM UTC
Untitled
IF I LOVE NOT, I HAVE NOTHING MATLOOB BOKHARI If I worship more than arch angel but don’t love I have nothing If I give all I have to the poor, but don’t love I have nothing If I have faith which moves mountains,but don’t love I have nothing If I give gold in alms as big as Ohad but don’t love I have nothing If I die moving around the arc of covenant, but don’t love I have nothing If I die fighting in the holy war, but don’t love I have nothing If I die and buried in the tomb of prophet but don’t love I have nothing If I get land larger than Solomon’s Kingdom,but don’t love I have nothing If I receive God’s healing power like Christ but don’t love I have nothing If I am given un paralleled patience like Ayub but don’t love I have nothing If make sacrifice like Ismael and Hussain but don’t love I have nothing If I am given the kingdom of the world, but don’t love I have nothing No matter what I have done, no matter what will I do Without wings of love, I cannot soar in the kingdom of God Natasha Nabokov: reading your poems, I am reminded of Tagore who is my first love Angela Davis :matloob, your work is so amazing! Laura Luce del:Hello Matloob Thanks., Its an amazing, understandable & great write. I hope you are blessed throughout the rest of yoir life. Never stop writing! ♡LLM Vincent Boykin: I admire your courage in writing about Love in a serious relationship with the spiritual. It's shows your heart and that you understand Love. Love is usually just some word in the cosmos. Love bonds everything in good. Love. Super Poem! It's how I took it. It made my day. Thank you. Demelia Denton: An amazing poem Matloob .... Enchanting ...beautifully worded Michele Vizzotti-White: I like the fast pace of it, but it still is rich in thought/words Fay Slimm: Ah - - how true are these words Mat. - love is all we need and nothing more. An inspiring read. Seyed Mohammad Reza Parhizgar : this is why you are called Matloob, but I have something better than love, and that's God.thanks dear friend I loved your poem. Sara Fielder: I agree, love should be the motivating factor in everything we think, do, and say. The world would be a better place if we all remembered that. Stephen Montgomery : My favorite line is: all I can sense the cogs turning in this sincere post which has come to an understanding; Love must be everything because love conflicts with nothing. Hold everything sacred and nothing suffers
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39
After 3 years of being her friend I finally asked her why she doesn't wear her turban She laughed with sadness in her eyes You mean a Dastaar? I blushed in embarrassment Wondering if I should keep going She tells me she doesn't wear it because she used to get bullied She's trying to blend in with us I imagine a church of millions in colorful turbans and dastaars I say tell me about your church She says it's a mosque I say tell me about your God She tells me Muhammed and the prophet Allah I say tell me about your Bible She says it's called a Quran She says what's it like to get baptized in your religion I say unlike other churches we don't get baptized into a a religion We get baptized with the Father, and the Son, and The Holy Spirit The Holy Trinity might one say She says tell me about Jesus I say that God sent his only son to be crucified for our sins when he has done no wrong She sings Jesus Take The Wheel But she is not Christian Other religions and cultures have always fascinated me I say tell me what's wrong She says her grandparents really don't like her as much Since she's running out of time and can't pray the obligated times People say she's Hindu People say she's from The Middle East People say she's a million things But to me she is the best bud, a human, like you and I I want to be in combat, as well as she I want to be in the Marines, she wants to try Army She tells me my father wanted to but he couldn't because of his vision She tells me the same might happen to her But it's the thought I told her I wanted to go to the Middle East before I join the Marines She said I'll go with you I say why? She says because you need someone to protect you I say okay we'll add that to the many states and countries to visit after we graduate She tells me I've been in the middle of war before I say what do you mean She tells me she just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time She tells me you know it's not a bad place in the Middle East I smile and I say I know It's not the country itself but the people within it She has relatives in India But was born in Richardson, TX She is Muslim I have relatives In America I was born in Denton, TX I am Christian Hatred is not simply taught.
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Jun 4, 2015
Jun 4, 2015 at 9:56 PM UTC
A Muslim and a Christian- The best of buds
After 3 years of being her friend I finally asked her why she doesn't wear her turban She laughed with sadness in her eyes You mean a Dastaar? I blushed in embarrassment Wondering if I should keep going She tells me she doesn't wear it because she used to get bullied She's trying to blend in with us I imagine a church of millions in colorful turbans and dastaars I say tell me about your church She says it's a mosque I say tell me about your God She tells me Muhammed and the prophet Allah I say tell me about your Bible She says it's called a Quran She says what's it like to get baptized in your religion I say unlike other churches we don't get baptized into a a religion We get baptized with the Father, and the Son, and The Holy Spirit The Holy Trinity might one say She says tell me about Jesus I say that God sent his only son to be crucified for our sins when he has done no wrong She sings Jesus Take The Wheel But she is not Christian Other religions and cultures have always fascinated me I say tell me what's wrong She says her grandparents really don't like her as much Since she's running out of time and can't pray the obligated times People say she's Hindu People say she's from The Middle East People say she's a million things But to me she is the best bud, a human, like you and I I want to be in combat, as well as she I want to be in the Marines, she wants to try Army She tells me my father wanted to but he couldn't because of his vision She tells me the same might happen to her But it's the thought I told her I wanted to go to the Middle East before I join the Marines She said I'll go with you I say why? She says because you need someone to protect you I say okay we'll add that to the many states and countries to visit after we graduate She tells me I've been in the middle of war before I say what do you mean She tells me she just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time She tells me you know it's not a bad place in the Middle East I smile and I say I know It's not the country itself but the people within it She has relatives in India But was born in Richardson, TX She is Muslim I have relatives In America I was born in Denton, TX I am Christian Hatred is not simply taught.
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54
on this day in 1969, Denton Cooley implemented the first artificial heart into a human whose nature was slowly failing and falling apart blood barely pumping under electric skin fake skin pumping blues under rubber valves and tubes it kept his breath for 64 hours. I imagine his family watched the light leave his eyes and not even love or divine intervention could beat him back to equilibrium wires surging through him your body is not science project it's a miracle but I guess it's conditional because some people see the light too soon when not even artificial life can keep you from dying even with robotic models clinking clanking subconscious pounding veins into submission keep this miracle alive revived it's not cheating Mother Nature it's not cheating your life beating pressed against the odds artificial body artificial feelings love isn't even a feeling it's a combination of chemicals connected in your brain but I wonder if that human felt his rubber heart breaking when he saw the tears in the eyes of his family these aren't emotions imitation life can fake even though not all of me is here, I still feel like nothing ever left me they didn't know I would leave so soon 64 hours I could wake up a robot I could wake up a miracle either way I'll be gone in 32 more hours when a brand new heart infects my blood you didn't finish the job but you held me over beating on my chest for me blue blood pumping but I guess I forgot how to do it on my own when my own heart should have never even left me
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Jun 30, 2014
Jun 30, 2014 at 3:28 AM UTC
artificial
on this day in 1969, Denton Cooley implemented the first artificial heart into a human whose nature was slowly failing and falling apart blood barely pumping under electric skin fake skin pumping blues under rubber valves and tubes it kept his breath for 64 hours. I imagine his family watched the light leave his eyes and not even love or divine intervention could beat him back to equilibrium wires surging through him your body is not science project it's a miracle but I guess it's conditional because some people see the light too soon when not even artificial life can keep you from dying even with robotic models clinking clanking subconscious pounding veins into submission keep this miracle alive revived it's not cheating Mother Nature it's not cheating your life beating pressed against the odds artificial body artificial feelings love isn't even a feeling it's a combination of chemicals connected in your brain but I wonder if that human felt his rubber heart breaking when he saw the tears in the eyes of his family these aren't emotions imitation life can fake even though not all of me is here, I still feel like nothing ever left me they didn't know I would leave so soon 64 hours I could wake up a robot I could wake up a miracle either way I'll be gone in 32 more hours when a brand new heart infects my blood you didn't finish the job but you held me over beating on my chest for me blue blood pumping but I guess I forgot how to do it on my own when my own heart should have never even left me
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52
if i had to write (and i do believe i do) about how much it means to me the flowers girls and their shorts the trees.. i think that i would start with saying something about a feeling at ease... free neatly tucked in a small town not far from down- town, in a little spot i like to call home a sense fills senses unaware... warm with sun on my face, a particular place away from "rat-race) called Denton
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Jan 23, 2013
Jan 23, 2013 at 4:02 PM UTC
Denton
Waiting Waiting is what I do I bide my time patiently all for you My pockets are low on this three hour drive, Hands at ten and two, As I head north on interstate 35 to you Hello goodbye Denton, not my stop I reach Ardmore, plot and tie my tie in a knot to the top Flustered's how I feel, Hands perspire as I grip the wheel The closer I get to you the faster the blood pumps through Davis came quicker than I thought it would Not much longer til' I'm in your 405 neck of the woods Knots in my stomach as Norman gets near I see you, I'm here, I smile ear to ear
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Jul 18, 2013
Jul 18, 2013 at 1:50 PM UTC
Muffalo Hunt
Drove 16 hours today Up and down the interstate Stopped for fast food in Denton Felt my treads wearing thin On 44 I felt like I was going to burst So I grabbed one of the Styrofoam cups from the passenger seat Dumped the half melted ice out my window Relief down to my feet In plain view of the policeman in his squad car Watching for people like me Desperate to get away, half-desperate to be caught For a moment in my mind I can see the celebration freedom lights red and blue Until some guy blows by doing at least 100 Breaking the spell It's three hours later and I'm asleep on your couch or pretending to be. I can hear you arguing with your boyfriend in the next room He's not nice, but he seems to know the score You come into the room and pat me on the head Hair like grease-soaked down. I hope he' sticks to your ribs like your mother's cooking I hope he plays your guitar when it rains I can hear you mumbling reassurances Spyglass in your hand Pretty pink drapes to hide the grimy windows.
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Dec 19, 2013
Dec 19, 2013 at 4:16 PM UTC
Pink Drapes
on a mission of self-searching (search for myself) a home-coming long awaited what better a place to be found like myself, so much about here has changed this is where i'll make my mark, but right now i haven't a single penny to my name. times have changed and it appears that Denton has kept up sadly though, i believe that i have not. for so so long i have waited for this day it has called to me, (this seat, this town, this cafe). but everything is so so different than before, perhaps i truly shall find my way, (my place, my course). my past has now discovered a reckoning, and i can start again fresher than before a new hope in me has risen one that was never there before
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Jan 13, 2013
Jan 13, 2013 at 11:33 AM UTC
start small
The two catholic priests sat in the Breakfast Room off the refectory in the abbey. They looked up when you entered then continued their conversation about Dante and you poured yourself a coffee and a small bowl of Cornflakes with a little milk and sugar. You sat down and sipped the coffee. There were prints of Michelangelo on the walls and a crucifix above and between the two doors that led to the refectory where the monks ate three times a day. The priests conversed but said nothing to you. Their words were uttered in posh well bred voices. One said Few believe in Hell these days and even fewer in Paradise and those that do have vague ideas gathered from odd books you find on airport bookshop shelves. You listened half heartedly as they talked. You wanted to ask about the place. Wanted one of them to hear confession. Maybe one to give absolution and perhaps offer a solution. You could hear the footsteps of monks in the other room getting their breakfast of bread and jam and black French coffee. One priest laughed. You never heard the joke. The other guffawed loudly in a girlish voice. And the woman was seen leaving by the back door semi dressed and in great distress the priest continued And Father Denton was never the same. Then they were silent and stood and smiled and went their way. You sat alone in the room. The Michelangelo prints reflected the single bulb hanging above the table. The Crucified seemed above it all. You would find some other to hear confession. To give absolution from your fall.
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Apr 14, 2012
Apr 14, 2012 at 3:27 AM UTC
FROM YOUR FALL.
The two catholic priests sat in the Breakfast Room off the refectory in the abbey. They looked up when you entered then continued their conversation about Dante and you poured yourself a coffee and a small bowl of Cornflakes with a little milk and sugar. You sat down and sipped the coffee. There were prints of Michelangelo on the walls and a crucifix above and between the two doors that led to the refectory where the monks ate three times a day. The priests conversed but said nothing to you. Their words were uttered in posh well bred voices. One said Few believe in Hell these days and even fewer in Paradise and those that do have vague ideas gathered from odd books you find on airport bookshop shelves. You listened half heartedly as they talked. You wanted to ask about the place. Wanted one of them to hear confession. Maybe one to give absolution and perhaps offer a solution. You could hear the footsteps of monks in the other room getting their breakfast of bread and jam and black French coffee. One priest laughed. You never heard the joke. The other guffawed loudly in a girlish voice. And the woman was seen leaving by the back door semi dressed and in great distress the priest continued And Father Denton was never the same. Then they were silent and stood and smiled and went their way. You sat alone in the room. The Michelangelo prints reflected the single bulb hanging above the table. The Crucified seemed above it all. You would find some other to hear confession. To give absolution from your fall.
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RECORD: ALL ALONG THE WATCHTOWER FROGMAN: JIMI HENDRIX CUTS TO leader's STUDY: NIGHT leader: I would like,             if I may,             to take you on a strange pondering. he crosses to The Cloud. sHe selects an album. we see the title: "The Watchtower Affair". He returns to her desktop and places it in reflecking tool. He puts on her seeing glasses. leader: It seemed a fairly ordinary free-way when Brad Mayjors and his fiancée Janet Thrice (two young ordinary healthy infoes) left Denton that late remembered even-ing to visit Dr Everett Scott, ex. tutor and now friend of both of them. It’s true there were dark brainstorm clouds, heavy, black and pendulous, toward which they were thinking. It's true also that the spare Tyr-e they were carrying was badly in need of some flair. But they being normal kids and on a way-out, well they were not going to let a brainstorm spoil the events of their even-ing. on the way-out. He closes the bRook marking the cage with two numbers. A 4 and 2, scrawled across the concrete blue tail. Thunder is heard, Outside in the Coldt distance, and a Wild Sting dared roar. leader: It was a way-out they were going to REMEMBER             for a very             long             time. STOP: TURN THOUGHT
0
Feb 12, 2016
Feb 12, 2016 at 7:57 PM UTC
The Letter-Ing: way-out
Robert Pinpick Theater 161,100 new themes: 610019912 today, Canada, Mexico, Apollo Technology "4" February 12 'Run' Chance north - April Spain Kikad (1), Switzerland, France, Italy, Japan, members of Kyrgyzstan believe in protection of the earth for Those who expand through Asia, Germany, Italy and what it is like, and know what hell is, they are creatures, scientists possessed by demons. (100) In the Swiss Paul 100K MT 12 4 (161) 4 and 3 Ahmed Izhik Rzivz International, South Africa, South Africa, South Africa, Italy, Germany, is the father of the West (161) in the history of the wise man Water, mixed with the air. Nirvana trains "Robert Denton, Robert Denton 161 sunlight" and fishing in the hot and cold areas of Canada, Mexico, 12100 Mexico 16100199) (12) Same day, Switzerland, France, Italy) cm (May 161) 3 April Burkina Faso Faso and Pulsin "Kentucky Spain". and, in fact, the health and women of women "my mother is my mother ..." 'Mares, and the rest to other countries in Europe, Europe, Germany, Italy, South Africa, Italy, ASL USA (Gloria) "I know why (complicated) and I hope that the United States of Germany, South Africa, Africa, East and West" - Italy, Germany, Italy, Japan, Kennedy Bridge and Hands Cork (161), Vladimir "bad father, except without the sun, known as "Dan M" by Juan and "Asia" by Roberto, "Asia, Italy, from 1,000 cm to 400" in South Africa "South Africa" ​​Nirviran "South Africa." 'ASL (Fang) It's not hot in the today's wars 'I do not know' 'great fight every day', as in Europe, especially in Germany and other European cities.The father is the most important city, but only in the ASL, the West (FSA) has died and is walking, except ... Story: Demons Demons Demons Demons Demons are a young man and "culinary clothes" in "Mash in the Gardens", "Nechirvan", "Frying Sewage" and Robert Demon in "Robert Demon". Dunney 161 days of cold and cold aquarium in Canada, Mexico, Mexico, 100 6100199 (12), 12 of South Korea, per day. Switzerland, France, Italy, 1000-200-4 cm (March 161), 3 Burkina Faso and 3 Puccini "Kentucky Spain". After all, the health of women and women is "my mother and my mother." From the lake, lakes and gates. In addition, Europe and other European countries, Germany, Italy, South Africa, Italy and the United States of America (ACI, Bang.) "I do not know the heat and the day of the fight" "We do not know what IAA John ACI is in South Africa and South Africa, especially in Germany, Germany. "West West" for your protection, with the exception of the custody of children and 1 child, "Mother and mother of my mother", the most important city in the world. , Germany, Italy, Japan, Spain, are said to have been named Kennedy in the 161-year-old government in Kirkuk (ACI, Bing, FSA), 161. My aunt got sick because of my parents, but we did not know ... our methods were there, but I did not know the way west.
0
Nov 5, 2018
Nov 5, 2018 at 8:55 PM UTC
Pinprick Theater
Robert Pinpick Theater 161,100 new themes: 610019912 today, Canada, Mexico, Apollo Technology "4" February 12 'Run' Chance north - April Spain Kikad (1), Switzerland, France, Italy, Japan, members of Kyrgyzstan believe in protection of the earth for Those who expand through Asia, Germany, Italy and what it is like, and know what hell is, they are creatures, scientists possessed by demons. (100) In the Swiss Paul 100K MT 12 4 (161) 4 and 3 Ahmed Izhik Rzivz International, South Africa, South Africa, South Africa, Italy, Germany, is the father of the West (161) in the history of the wise man Water, mixed with the air. Nirvana trains "Robert Denton, Robert Denton 161 sunlight" and fishing in the hot and cold areas of Canada, Mexico, 12100 Mexico 16100199) (12) Same day, Switzerland, France, Italy) cm (May 161) 3 April Burkina Faso Faso and Pulsin "Kentucky Spain". and, in fact, the health and women of women "my mother is my mother ..." 'Mares, and the rest to other countries in Europe, Europe, Germany, Italy, South Africa, Italy, ASL USA (Gloria) "I know why (complicated) and I hope that the United States of Germany, South Africa, Africa, East and West" - Italy, Germany, Italy, Japan, Kennedy Bridge and Hands Cork (161), Vladimir "bad father, except without the sun, known as "Dan M" by Juan and "Asia" by Roberto, "Asia, Italy, from 1,000 cm to 400" in South Africa "South Africa" ​​Nirviran "South Africa." 'ASL (Fang) It's not hot in the today's wars 'I do not know' 'great fight every day', as in Europe, especially in Germany and other European cities.The father is the most important city, but only in the ASL, the West (FSA) has died and is walking, except ... Story: Demons Demons Demons Demons Demons are a young man and "culinary clothes" in "Mash in the Gardens", "Nechirvan", "Frying Sewage" and Robert Demon in "Robert Demon". Dunney 161 days of cold and cold aquarium in Canada, Mexico, Mexico, 100 6100199 (12), 12 of South Korea, per day. Switzerland, France, Italy, 1000-200-4 cm (March 161), 3 Burkina Faso and 3 Puccini "Kentucky Spain". After all, the health of women and women is "my mother and my mother." From the lake, lakes and gates. In addition, Europe and other European countries, Germany, Italy, South Africa, Italy and the United States of America (ACI, Bang.) "I do not know the heat and the day of the fight" "We do not know what IAA John ACI is in South Africa and South Africa, especially in Germany, Germany. "West West" for your protection, with the exception of the custody of children and 1 child, "Mother and mother of my mother", the most important city in the world. , Germany, Italy, Japan, Spain, are said to have been named Kennedy in the 161-year-old government in Kirkuk (ACI, Bing, FSA), 161. My aunt got sick because of my parents, but we did not know ... our methods were there, but I did not know the way west.
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1
Who gave permission to paint the inside of my eye lids, closing them was the only door I had to escape each day. I’ve knocked down monuments and blew up all the power grids, and yet there’s sounds, thoughts and memories I can’t keep at bay. Someone needs to cover their tracks, I’d rather gut wrenching honesty than sugar coated lies. I’m not obliviously naive I drown myself in facts, connecting invisible dots and stretching coincidences and ties. I saw a rainbow, though it’s hard to distinguish if it was just in my mind, and I tell you her beauty can even turn the heads of those who are blind. The game of chess I left years before; the pawn on it’s side that I placed the blame. The knight, king and queen are strewn on the floor, did I happen to mention that I lost the game? Losing my path that I’ve been following, though indecisive I’ve always been one to lead, and with these objections I’ve been swallowing it’s a wonder my throat hasn’t begun to bleed. Someone needs to cover the cracks, ‘cause the water’s rushing in as time goes by. All I feel is cold shoulders and turned backs, not sky or ocean but veins to match each eye. I’ve got a million confessions on my tongue, but the words I just can’t find, and I tell you her beauty can even turn the heads of those who are blind. I swore I opened the thirteenth door but I found myself upon floor, and dragged myself until I was tattooed with rug burn. Experiencing an implosion from my core, flame’s extinguished but I feed the fire more, I’ve always played with matches, I guess I’ll never learn. I lay watching the clouds change shape into my distractions, all hitting my brain so loud I wish to turn it down by fractions. Feeling isolated within crowds, and feeling excluded from my own factions, I hide my heart but it’s well endowed, and it’s all yours despite my words and actions.
0
Aug 8, 2019
Aug 8, 2019 at 7:34 PM UTC
Denton: The Home of Happiness
Who gave permission to paint the inside of my eye lids, closing them was the only door I had to escape each day. I’ve knocked down monuments and blew up all the power grids, and yet there’s sounds, thoughts and memories I can’t keep at bay. Someone needs to cover their tracks, I’d rather gut wrenching honesty than sugar coated lies. I’m not obliviously naive I drown myself in facts, connecting invisible dots and stretching coincidences and ties. I saw a rainbow, though it’s hard to distinguish if it was just in my mind, and I tell you her beauty can even turn the heads of those who are blind. The game of chess I left years before; the pawn on it’s side that I placed the blame. The knight, king and queen are strewn on the floor, did I happen to mention that I lost the game? Losing my path that I’ve been following, though indecisive I’ve always been one to lead, and with these objections I’ve been swallowing it’s a wonder my throat hasn’t begun to bleed. Someone needs to cover the cracks, ‘cause the water’s rushing in as time goes by. All I feel is cold shoulders and turned backs, not sky or ocean but veins to match each eye. I’ve got a million confessions on my tongue, but the words I just can’t find, and I tell you her beauty can even turn the heads of those who are blind. I swore I opened the thirteenth door but I found myself upon floor, and dragged myself until I was tattooed with rug burn. Experiencing an implosion from my core, flame’s extinguished but I feed the fire more, I’ve always played with matches, I guess I’ll never learn. I lay watching the clouds change shape into my distractions, all hitting my brain so loud I wish to turn it down by fractions. Feeling isolated within crowds, and feeling excluded from my own factions, I hide my heart but it’s well endowed, and it’s all yours despite my words and actions.
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