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"dion" poems
Following are several translations of the 'Old Pond' poem, which may be the most famous of all haiku: Furuike ya kawazu tobikomu mizu no oto -- Basho Literal Translation Fu-ru (old) i-ke (pond) ya, ka-wa-zu (frog) to-bi-ko-mu (jumping into) mi-zu (water) no o-to (sound) The old pond-- a frog jumps in, sound of water. Translated by Robert Hass Old pond... a frog jumps in water's sound. Translated by William J. Higginson An old silent pond... A frog jumps into the pond, splash! Silence again. Translated by Harry Behn There is the old pond! Lo, into it jumps a frog: hark, water's music! Translated by John Bryan The silent old pond a mirror of ancient calm, a frog-leaps-in splash. Translated by Dion O'Donnol old pond frog leaping splash Translated by Cid Corman Antic pond-- frantic frog jumps in-- gigantic sound. Translated by Bernard Lionel Einbond MAFIA HIT MAN POET: NOTE FOUND PINNED TO LAPEL OF DROWNED VICTIM'S DOUBLE-BREASTED SUIT!!! 'Dere wasa dis frogg Gone jumpa offa da logg Now he inna bogg.' -- Anonymous Translated by George M. Young, Jr. Old pond leap -- splash a frog. Translated by Lucien Stryck The old pond, A frog jumps in:. Plop! Translated by Allan Watts The old pond, yes, and A frog is jumping into The water, and splash. Translated by G.S. Fraser
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The old pond
the grating voices of neighbors unsuccessfully singing Celine Dion ballads the monotonous mechanical humming of the metal factory the squealing of housewives watching an afternoon soap opera the blaring siren of a firetruck racing with tragedy the clunks and clangs of a nearby construction site the roaring of the engine of an overloaded jeepney the chiming of laughter from kids playing in the streets the calls of the street vendor peddling sugary cotton candy the whining of the dog begging to run around outside this is the music of life in the outskirts of the city
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Jun 24, 2014
Jun 24, 2014 at 3:45 AM UTC
suburban music
sweeps across the floor like the hem of a rag on a doll-faced ***** as the lights are dimmed in this picket-fenced Attica. To him, the raindrops taste like whiskey so who's to blame him for being a drunkard? He will not take such condescension, and so he shall pass it onto you like a hot potato; just say the third-degree burns came from hugging the stove. For you, life is not a Lifetime movie looking at your bruises in the mirror to a Celine Dion power ballad; the days are a beach of intenstines set alongside waves of toxic waste, the moon now a mood ring sitting atop the knuckles of your vengeful king. This decade of brutal purging, atonement for sins not yet committed, has felt as consuming as his figure those Thursday nights when he's stalking for his property, and you're close-mouthed under the bed, looking through barely a slab of this virtual reality, at the iron-fisted giant who would nurse your neuroses if he'd stop bashing your face in. Your expectations for the outcome laced with Disney Princess satin arrange themselves in a cross-legged noose (the "O" stands for optimism), for all this atonement must be the beaten path to the Garden of Eden. You should just remember. The men still pulled the lever, licking the flames as Joan of Arc sang her finale.
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Apr 29, 2010
Apr 29, 2010 at 10:55 AM UTC
Violence, Violence
It's a bad day when you can't get Celene Dion out of your head Titanic was good It was not that good I found a dried flower Buried in Leviticus of my sort of grandma's bible She must have liked that part The only quote about Leviticus I've read on the internet is about stoning gay people I hope she didn't like it that much I saw a bagel get made No one has the job of eating the middles out I'm 23, this was a let down I still like bagels a lot I tacked the dry flower on my wall Above the reminder that it's $3 a day to swim at the public pool in the mornings I hope it's not a homophobic flower I hid the bible behind Lauren Conrad's book Lauren Conrad's book embarrasses me less My sort of grandma Is only sort of alive I often feel that way I feel most alive while dreaming of the impossible Realistic dreams lead to disappointment Outlandish dreams leave little 'remember when’s’' No one hates themselves for not becoming an astronaut A lot of people hate themselves for not losing 20lbs Friendships are often measured in favors That is all That was not all Favors are measured in sacrifices Favors are not measured in reward Today is a reflection of not dying yesterday There is a one in seven chance that today is Friday And it is imperative that we get down on Friday Because the anticipation for this weekend is very high If today is Monday all of that is no longer relevant to our conversation I am losing weight As I lose weight more and more fat girls hit on me I do not like this as much as what I was imagining would happen I have learned that being funny **** cool Like I am becoming Does not mean hot girls will hit on me It means they will actually think about it before saying no To supplement my soon to be chiseled physic I am learning a Jack Johnson song on guitar This worked for an acquaintance in 2006 Maybe I should learn Colbie Callait instead The world would be better if schools had better teachers The world would also be better if high school seniors paid attention to the teachers they already have I don't know which one is easier to fix My past seems rosier than my future Except in the case of February 16th 2007 And now February 16th 2012 Corner buildings and modern light fixtures are my favorite aesthetics My favorite building has neither of those features Those features are not that awesome Dead flowers smell like dead things To combat this I spray cologne on my grandma's flower I have never been to a funeral I wonder if they febreeze the dead people Or maybe they use Chanel No. 5 This is something I would like to learn more about
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Feb 27, 2012
Feb 27, 2012 at 3:38 AM UTC
Dead Flowers
It's a bad day when you can't get Celene Dion out of your head Titanic was good It was not that good I found a dried flower Buried in Leviticus of my sort of grandma's bible She must have liked that part The only quote about Leviticus I've read on the internet is about stoning gay people I hope she didn't like it that much I saw a bagel get made No one has the job of eating the middles out I'm 23, this was a let down I still like bagels a lot I tacked the dry flower on my wall Above the reminder that it's $3 a day to swim at the public pool in the mornings I hope it's not a homophobic flower I hid the bible behind Lauren Conrad's book Lauren Conrad's book embarrasses me less My sort of grandma Is only sort of alive I often feel that way I feel most alive while dreaming of the impossible Realistic dreams lead to disappointment Outlandish dreams leave little 'remember when’s’' No one hates themselves for not becoming an astronaut A lot of people hate themselves for not losing 20lbs Friendships are often measured in favors That is all That was not all Favors are measured in sacrifices Favors are not measured in reward Today is a reflection of not dying yesterday There is a one in seven chance that today is Friday And it is imperative that we get down on Friday Because the anticipation for this weekend is very high If today is Monday all of that is no longer relevant to our conversation I am losing weight As I lose weight more and more fat girls hit on me I do not like this as much as what I was imagining would happen I have learned that being funny **** cool Like I am becoming Does not mean hot girls will hit on me It means they will actually think about it before saying no To supplement my soon to be chiseled physic I am learning a Jack Johnson song on guitar This worked for an acquaintance in 2006 Maybe I should learn Colbie Callait instead The world would be better if schools had better teachers The world would also be better if high school seniors paid attention to the teachers they already have I don't know which one is easier to fix My past seems rosier than my future Except in the case of February 16th 2007 And now February 16th 2012 Corner buildings and modern light fixtures are my favorite aesthetics My favorite building has neither of those features Those features are not that awesome Dead flowers smell like dead things To combat this I spray cologne on my grandma's flower I have never been to a funeral I wonder if they febreeze the dead people Or maybe they use Chanel No. 5 This is something I would like to learn more about
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All these words, the words and the w.w.w. Computer breakdowns and a broken heart. Taxes, thanksgiving and the mortgage. Heaven or hell and to be boiled alive. The prodigal son and Karl Lagerfeld. Being born and wearing diapers. Getting old and wearing diapers. Boring music, boring Bono and Björk. Too much fat and blood cloths. TV, the news and all of the idiots. Children dieing of hunger and thirst. To be absolutely human and gonorrhea. The first, second and this world war. Charging batteries and clean teeth's. ***** thoughts and smelly feet's. Gravity and Einstein's theory. ************ fornication and Celine Dion. Commercials and more stupidity. God and the devil up my *** Love or hate all up the same way. Sensitive art and sensitive poetry - oh so. Diamonds, fur coat and champagne. More music and gadgets I can't live without. Plane crashes and earthquakes. Getting dressed and have a haircut. McDonalds stinking burgers. Burger Kings stinking pomme frites. The apocalypse and Tom Cruise. Cold lips and cold hands. Crash course for the ravers. All the virgins up in heaven. America got talent. Nothing to worry about. Not even when I'm dead.
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Aug 7, 2014
Aug 7, 2014 at 7:27 AM UTC
Nothing to worry about.
My mom had me when she was nineteen years old, but I wasn't an accident. My mom had surgery the day before yesterday and I wasn't there to kiss her before she went in. She called me before and she left me a voicemail when she got out. She said she loved me and she missed me. I miss her too. My mom hates washing more dishes than she has to, but she refuses to use the dish washer. We eat on paper plates and we have three sets of salad tongs that we got for free from Dion's Pizza. My mom goes to Sam's Club to buy Charmin and generic paper towels, she likes the hot dogs at Target, and she gets her iced non-fat mochas at McDonalds. My mom is tiny. She weighs a hundred and ten pounds and is 5 feet 3 inches. She has fake ***** and long black hair down to her waist. She makes me feel safe. My mom works two jobs, on top of taking care of three kids plus me. She makes Mama Mia mac and cheese, and Mama Mia meatloaf and Mama Mia fajitas, basically she makes food and calls it Mama Mia because she made it. My mom is beautiful.
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Aug 11, 2013
Aug 11, 2013 at 9:39 AM UTC
I have a thirteen dollar tattoo and my mom still loves me.
'"Cause I'm your lady And you're my man Whenever you reach for me I'll do all that I can" Just found out— Celine Dion's man Her husband, Rene Angelil Passed away last Thursday The love between them Had always been louder Than a whisper And they were never far away But not this time, I feel sad According to her He was her many guiding angels Her only "boyfriend" Although he was much older She doted him like a mother Figure, and he allowed her In public, many kisses Tender touches Theatric renewed vows All full of Titanic's fondness Now I've realized Only in love, a man owns A woman, and a woman can Own a man. Love, and love only A lot of affections involved
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Jan 19, 2016
Jan 19, 2016 at 12:08 AM UTC
Celine Dion's Man
As I write this Tears Tickle my eyes Just heard And seen All by myself I blow a cool blow I shake my head In wonderment Escaping tears Running down my cheeks Her song Is still inside I don't want To let go of this song I need Oh yes I need To hear it again So I shall.
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May 19, 2015
May 19, 2015 at 1:14 PM UTC
Celine Dion
Felix Calvalari and the Rascals singing Groovy. As I ride along. What a lovely uplifting mood song? Of two people enjoying the mood. And the Beach Boys singing Don't Worry Baby. Stating everything is going to be alright. How can you not love a lady like this? Who gives off great confidence. I truly believe, I could never love another. After loving her. David Ruffin's blended truth behind the lyrics of this Temptations song. If I lost her in any way. I would try something new to reconnect. The Miracles truly spoke the truth about the things love will make you do. I guess I'm in a sixties type mood. When words solely spoke straightly to you. I understand the woman's that seek respect. Otis Redding wrote the song addressing it. Altho' Aretha seems to get the credit. What can I say about the two Dions? With Dion Mucci singing about Donna the Primma Donna. The type you probably couldn't get to ride a honda. And then Dione Warwicke singing about singing about praying. Oh, yes I'm in a sixties mood. When words solely spoke to your heart. When the Beatles stated don't let me down. Them words was a message needed to be heard. And papa never had a brand new bag. I'm still trying to figure out those James Brown words. Well, I relax for a few minutes. Until I get ready to play another song. Cause for the moment. I'm just enjoying these sixties songs.
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Sep 25, 2012
Sep 25, 2012 at 9:37 AM UTC
The Words of the Sixties
Man, all you ************* start out the same Oh honey I can appreciate you, is all you claim. Where’s the chivalry, why can’t y’all be gentlemanly. It’s such a shame Can’t even walk around without being hounded by one of these ******* lames Yes I said hounded cause y’all can be bunch of dogs. If I look good, politely let your glasses fog Try not to stare, a quick glance, don’t stare maybe you’ll have a chance, that’s fair. I don’t expect perfect Prince Charming But the lack of manners is ******* alarming Ask me how I am, whatever you do dion’t say how you can give it to me Or how you can make my day. A nice conversation can go a long way. Don’t ask me about my man, or why I don’t have one All I’m gonna say, this would of been nice but now that fool won. If he was putting it down I wouldn’t be hanging around. If he asked how my day was Id be all kisses and hugs Yes I have a man but his selfishness ******* bugs I thought I wanted a sweet man Now I’m more attracted to thugs At least now Im familiar with the ***** made I don’t even feel right throwing his mama shade She treats him like he’s a gift from god The way she coddles him makes me ******* nod. I’m done talking about this! **** is making my sob.
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Aug 11, 2018
Aug 11, 2018 at 9:12 PM UTC
***** made
White dress Soda cans Blonde hair Celine Dion Shouting lyrics Clumsy dancing Always swaying Cigarette smoke Lifting me California girls We sang Long nights Constant fighting Angry shouting Never home Rarely conscious Police officers Mental illness ****** needles No music California bound Phone calls Whispering relatives Sideways glances Bipolar Disorder Drug ****** Gone I still sing without you
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Jun 5, 2014
Jun 5, 2014 at 5:34 PM UTC
Mom
a conscious thought stated: don't write another love poem but his words are vanilla to my ears the smoothest silk texture spun from his consonants and vowels running from his lips and melting over my flesh you can see where i get distracted... because infatuation and intimacy intertwine spinning a tangled web woven from the strongest thread and your fingers are musicians magic strumming on my heartstrings playing chords on my heart carrying a tune that would make Celine Dion quiver. it made me quiver but there aren't six degrees of separation from lust to love there's one degree but a thousand steps in between the chemists couldn't explain why our chemistry combined in such an intricate way and all the experiments were inconclusive because only we are the mad scientists behind our insanity and while the scientists tinkered the mathematicians drew up an equation insert me and you into x and y but x and y don't define hidden variables that even we had to search to find the eraser's been rubbed raw against the paper with a hole in the center they'll never solve their invented equation because mathematics aren't involved just a finely designed road map tracing your veins and mine from fingertip to fingertip eye to eye an artists divine sight i'll be the paint to your brush your lily pads to Monet if your words are paint my body's a blank canvas i'm a writer but even i'm struggling to find the words that may as well be hidden in catacombs but we don't need Edgar Allen Poe to quoth the raven "nevermore" nevermore shall i search for this unicorn of words mythical in that they don't exist and yet somehow you do we'll resurrect Charles Dickens because he's the only man who would even make an attempt but even his hands are trembling with the pressure mounting of a lost word and a quivering pen thunk as we watched him dissolve into the pen and ink that created him this conscious thought beckoned forward in my head do not write another love poem just yet for who will scribe the words to fit our facets when the skins withered, wrinkled and dry but our hands still twine like grape vines maybe by then they'll have written another edition of the dictionary
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May 31, 2014
May 31, 2014 at 1:12 PM UTC
another love poem from 300 miles away
a conscious thought stated: don't write another love poem but his words are vanilla to my ears the smoothest silk texture spun from his consonants and vowels running from his lips and melting over my flesh you can see where i get distracted... because infatuation and intimacy intertwine spinning a tangled web woven from the strongest thread and your fingers are musicians magic strumming on my heartstrings playing chords on my heart carrying a tune that would make Celine Dion quiver. it made me quiver but there aren't six degrees of separation from lust to love there's one degree but a thousand steps in between the chemists couldn't explain why our chemistry combined in such an intricate way and all the experiments were inconclusive because only we are the mad scientists behind our insanity and while the scientists tinkered the mathematicians drew up an equation insert me and you into x and y but x and y don't define hidden variables that even we had to search to find the eraser's been rubbed raw against the paper with a hole in the center they'll never solve their invented equation because mathematics aren't involved just a finely designed road map tracing your veins and mine from fingertip to fingertip eye to eye an artists divine sight i'll be the paint to your brush your lily pads to Monet if your words are paint my body's a blank canvas i'm a writer but even i'm struggling to find the words that may as well be hidden in catacombs but we don't need Edgar Allen Poe to quoth the raven "nevermore" nevermore shall i search for this unicorn of words mythical in that they don't exist and yet somehow you do we'll resurrect Charles Dickens because he's the only man who would even make an attempt but even his hands are trembling with the pressure mounting of a lost word and a quivering pen thunk as we watched him dissolve into the pen and ink that created him this conscious thought beckoned forward in my head do not write another love poem just yet for who will scribe the words to fit our facets when the skins withered, wrinkled and dry but our hands still twine like grape vines maybe by then they'll have written another edition of the dictionary
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Celine Dion- Because You Loved Me *You were my strength when I was weak You were my voice when I couldn't speak You were my eyes when I couldn't see You saw the best there was in me Lifted me up when I couldn't reach You gave me faith 'coz you believed I'm everything I am Because you loved me I'm grateful for each day you gave me Maybe I don't know that much But I know this much is true I was blessed because I was loved by you*
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May 8, 2016
May 8, 2016 at 8:03 AM UTC
For My Nanay (Mother)
say that little thing that sets my veins on fire, make my fingers tremble when our eyes meet, wrap your hands around my darkness and set it free don't chain yourself to my insecurities. let my breathing be your favorite song but don't let it be our song. rip the air from my lungs, but don't take my breath away. (starts with an L, but we're no Celine Dion song) we'll **** these butterflies and turn them into ice-cubes, play my spine like a harp and watch me sing. mold me like play-dough but don't make me something you like. (i'll let you have a taste but i'm not your favorite flavor) let's put our emotions on the shelf, they only get in the way. you can want me, but you can't need me.
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Oct 13, 2012
Oct 13, 2012 at 5:42 PM UTC
This isn't.
I saw him led across my BLACK AN D WHITE television screen in the rundown city of NEWARK huge shades covered his eyes like black bandages head skyward voice a dynamite musicial roar of sound as RAY CHARLES screamed I GOT A WOMAN WAY OVER TOWN THAT"S GOOD TO ME THAN JAMES BROWN in a shoulder cape danced did a split dropped to his knees and roared PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE and PAPA GOT A BRAND NEW BAG the DRIFTERS took the stage with UNDER THE BOARD WALK JACKIE WILSON ex boxer punched out the tune LONELY TEARDROPSwhile doing another split and throwing his coat or hankerchief to waiting screaming fans DION AND THE BELMONTS told about RUNAROUND SUE SMOKEY ROBINSON AND THE MIRACLES with his high falsetto touched the rafters with TEARS OF A CLOWN the TEMPTATIONS told everybody that would listen that PAPA WAS A ROLLING STONE and I WISH IT WOULD RAIN so that no one will see my teardrops when I go outside BROOK BENTON with his smooth baritone sang about A RAINY NIGHT IN GEOGIA and that ITS JUST A MATTER OF TIME and THE JAGUARS were careful on tiptoe because THE LION SLEEPS TONIGHT ELVIS PRESSLEY wanted to know ARE YOU LONESOME TONIGHT and sang about THE JAILHOUSE ROCK and JERRY LEE LEWIS known as the killer on the stage beat beat the piano like a bad child with elbows feet hands letting us know about there is A WHOLE LOT OF SHAKING GOING ON we ain't faking there's a whole lot of shaking going on
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Sep 8, 2013
Sep 8, 2013 at 9:06 PM UTC
MY MUSICIAL MEMORIES BY VICTOR TRIPP
"Silly Me" Celine Dion still makes me cry Silly me.... don't know why Could it be .. that love flows free When I hear her songs.. they're part of me.. A part of me.. that won't let go... Of a love so strong.. I used to know.. A love my heart.. must now embrace In my dreams... still see her face.. Her soul yet by my side.... Oh !! .... the wonder of the ride Once again her hand in mine A touch upon her cheek.. Once again our souls entwined Once again we seek... A time together...for all time A time for us .. to be ... Today I'll join her in sweet dream... My love has set me free... Inspired by Sherry and the movie "Titanic" Written by Dennis Gilchrist Copyright 2004 Inspired by Sherry and the movie "Titanic" Written by Dennis Gilchrist Copyright 2004 "Love can touch us one time ......and last for a lifetime" "And never let go till..... we're gone." To those who wonder, ... Sherry was a friend when I was very young a friend I have remembered and a memory I have always cherished for 50 years now, She was my first real love .... whom I adored,... but I was so bashful then I never really told her so, ... I recall so many times back then when I would go out of my way to walk by her apartment hoping to catch a glimpse of her outside, I usually didn't but that didn't matter, it still made my heart beat a little faster, ... then one day her mom drove her to my house,... she had come to say goodbye, ... she was moving to California. After she drove away I recall feeling numb and I went into a hallway where I lived and closed the door, ... sat on a step and cried and made a promise to myself that someday I would find her and tell her how much I cared for her then, ... and never forgot my promise. I found her, ... and the poem above is the result. . >
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Aug 30, 2011
Aug 30, 2011 at 12:01 PM UTC
Silly Me
"Silly Me" Celine Dion still makes me cry Silly me.... don't know why Could it be .. that love flows free When I hear her songs.. they're part of me.. A part of me.. that won't let go... Of a love so strong.. I used to know.. A love my heart.. must now embrace In my dreams... still see her face.. Her soul yet by my side.... Oh !! .... the wonder of the ride Once again her hand in mine A touch upon her cheek.. Once again our souls entwined Once again we seek... A time together...for all time A time for us .. to be ... Today I'll join her in sweet dream... My love has set me free... Inspired by Sherry and the movie "Titanic" Written by Dennis Gilchrist Copyright 2004 Inspired by Sherry and the movie "Titanic" Written by Dennis Gilchrist Copyright 2004 "Love can touch us one time ......and last for a lifetime" "And never let go till..... we're gone." To those who wonder, ... Sherry was a friend when I was very young a friend I have remembered and a memory I have always cherished for 50 years now, She was my first real love .... whom I adored,... but I was so bashful then I never really told her so, ... I recall so many times back then when I would go out of my way to walk by her apartment hoping to catch a glimpse of her outside, I usually didn't but that didn't matter, it still made my heart beat a little faster, ... then one day her mom drove her to my house,... she had come to say goodbye, ... she was moving to California. After she drove away I recall feeling numb and I went into a hallway where I lived and closed the door, ... sat on a step and cried and made a promise to myself that someday I would find her and tell her how much I cared for her then, ... and never forgot my promise. I found her, ... and the poem above is the result. . >
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Being the worlds chief of police Is so overrated With all that we do And they all still hate us We're only here To keep up the peace Spread our name brand Of Democracy If you don't love us Then kindly leave us If you don't trust us Won't hurt our feelings believe us We'll bring it to order One way or another Kick out the leaches Close down the borders Once that is done And they're out on their bums We'll build us a wall From the North to South run The only thing Canadian That we will let in Is Celine Dion And their cheap medicine And that little Chihuahua From down below Cause we love Taco Bell's Mex food to go As far as the Middle east They can do as they please We won't be around To kick sand in our face We'll pull out of there Our American troops Not just a few of the lucky But one hundred proof They can fight it all out Amongst themselves If they stick with the program There'll be nobody left They can have all our nukes We won't need them no more As we won't be playing In their silly wars We will be by ourselves Closed off from it all Unplug the phone If they try to call Live in our bubble Stay out of trouble No longer hang out With that bunch of numskulls So lock up the door Turn out the light Toss out the key As we say goodbye...
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Mar 26, 2016
Mar 26, 2016 at 8:52 AM UTC
Goodbye Cruel World...
The grass smells sweet. The breeze blows a warm wind, Leaves floating from the trees and ground. A beautiful day indeed. Lightly moving a hand side to side, The softness of the grass giving a sensation Indescribable. A conversation so just and pure as a newborn. Feeling safe and unworried. Moments of happiness in a depressed mind. The one thing known for sure. A glance down. “Gabe” Dog print LCHS GABRIEL ISAIAH DION MARTINEZ In the arms of his family Mar. 18, 1998 In the arms of Jesus Apr. 08, 2018 Grey and black granite block with a black and bronze plate on top. Her safe place.
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Feb 3, 2021
Feb 3, 2021 at 1:13 AM UTC
Safety.
It was a distant shore, alone as he was, but connected by the sea, like flat lands laying with man-made shadows; the sand, for a moment held footprints in memoriam of a child’s laughter except what the land remembered was a family apart It was the love of a child’s emotion, tragically killed by reason, like signs meant to warn those who would favor nature, as history suggests, who once walked freely but are now ghosts, haunting progress with uncompromising songs of the heart It was the will of perfection, it’s power, meant to conquer laughter, could not accept those who live vicariously, in a land where the sun never sets; but unable to bring order to the tragic clinging tides he walked towards her consumed by thought, but intrigued by art It was a struggle for power, though master and slave were interchangeable each loving one another, though he tired of the compromise for once the moon appears the grudging day must lie still once again as long shadows wait for a new days start
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Oct 16, 2015
Oct 16, 2015 at 3:05 PM UTC
Dion and Apolla
The poem was titled "Why did you leave me?" Another boo hoo love gone wrong poem I said to myself , "Let me see I'm sure it goes like this": Woke up fell out of bed (Beatles) "All by myself" "Céline Dion" "I can't live if living is without you" (Bee Gees) Yeah , I can smell the classic heartbreak song like a skunk hit by a Mac truck And what's worse is the people who will ogle over it and praise it saying : "I so relate to this poem" "Thank you for sharing " adding to another collection ! Humph ! I'm lucky . All my broken hearts came cheap . No bomb exploding inside inside the house blowing away half the family . No children drowned crossing the sea . No wife sacrificing herself for her family . No I was lucky Just girls and women dumping me because I had to work on weekends Or I smacked my lips while eating Or the ever used , no reason at all Yeah , they left with everything intact No blown up house No babies lying on a beach Everything intact but my sanity For two cents you can have that Maybe I will read that poem anyway Every breakup is unique And real Just maybe it will touch my soul
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Apr 16, 2016
Apr 16, 2016 at 4:01 AM UTC
Why did you leave me ?
It started with Adam, the father of all He and Eve had no last names that I can recall. While the man tribe stayed small there was really no need One name was sufficient to distinguish indeed. Yet, as we expanded, this soon came undone As every man Jack was some father’s son. Cicero, Caesar and Pompey, those Romans Were known as just that; nick-names, patrynomens Rembrandt and Picasso those giants of art probably had two names when they got their start. Elvis and Dion were stars in the fifties. Liberace was too with his style none too thrifty. From Cher to Madonna Fame’s admission fee was becoming Mononymous to the bourgeoisie. So Adele and Miley revel in this; Fame’s a fabulous ride and it’s not to be missed. There’s money involved and a lot of acclaim And best of all people remember your name.
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Jan 16, 2015
Jan 16, 2015 at 9:35 PM UTC
Mononymous
Would you excuse me . ? I would stay for desert but my world is in chaos A Phoenix rising from the ashes , phenom Sleepless with eyes open I can dream on Maybe a stream I can lay under a tree on So I can chill like freon on a field like dion Just chill for a second so I can be empty And the waters could slightly wet the grasses to splash me on my tired soles Drooling is fine as long as no-one knows Just ask your pillow he's been cool about it for some time now and always been there for you to lie down even caught some tears in all the years now that-sounds like a friend to me if we wasn't kin at least intimate amigos and nothing short of it
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Jan 1, 2018
Jan 1, 2018 at 6:00 PM UTC
Quiet by the river