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"donny" poems
**** the non-believers **** the ***** and **** the fools Go grab your Dad's gun and we'll go shoot up the whole school. Yeah. I got her nudes, don't you think that's pretty cool? You know that Jesus loves you, would you like to see him soon? You're so offended these days well **** my **** you ******** ***** ******* licking my Dad's **** Donny T's alright, Don't you think? Jesus loves you. I don't, But Jesus loves you.
0
May 16, 2018
May 16, 2018 at 11:39 PM UTC
You're so offended these days
Lights flash. Glowsticks twirl. rip   snap   glow rip snap glow ripssnapglow ripsnapglow rispnapskgoa thelkaljth the words blend the sounds smear the colors undulate and suddenly i heave i hurl i **** i puke my stomach caves my body shivers my brow sweats my knees quiver i lurch to the ground splashing in my warm milky surprise. and expectedly i puke i **** i hurl i heave the world twists the technicolor dream-coat of Donny Osmond happiness swells. it rips it pulls it tears it ***** and I'm a hostage to its psychedelic screams. Faces twist into positions they aren't meant to hold. gasps wheeze into my pores, burrowing like soft, comforting mole rats into my being. I'm dissected.
0
Aug 7, 2012
Aug 7, 2012 at 12:30 AM UTC
Tie Dye Dreams
I look forward to the re-enactments of historic moments in the pageant of The United States of America. [sic] Gettysburg, Crossing the Delaware, The Moon Landing, Paul Revere's Ride, The March on Washington, The Storming of the Capital, The Clearing of Lafayette Plaza, The George Floyd ****** The Separation of Families, The Arizona Re-count, The Plot to Assassinate Democratic Governors, The Imprisonment of: Jared, Donny, Eric, Ivanka, Don, Carlson, Greene, Gaetz, Guilianni, Hannity, Conway, McVeigh, Barr [sic] (just to mention a few of the Founding Fuck-Ups.), the death of 650,000 people (the vast majority being innocent), The Pandemic of the Unvaxxed [sic] After July 4, 2024, History may never be the same. See it now!
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Jul 22, 2021
Jul 22, 2021 at 3:39 PM UTC
Re-enactments: July 4th
Names are funny. Have you ever wondered what your name would be if your parents didn't name you? I'm one of the lucky few that know. If my parents didn't name me, my name would be Timothy. You see, apparently, when two people love each other, Mommy cheats on Donny with daddy and all three demonize the baby. Unfortunately, abortion isn't an option. Poor Donny believes his little Johnson made a tiny Willie but really it's Mike's Rick. The trick wasn't revealed until Donny signed the birth certificate. Obviously, Karen's husband abandoned their family. Mike ripped his love from her and gave it to Dominique. Karen, twice-scorned, mid-divorce, postpartum, decides a shelter isn't suitable for a nameless infant. At this point, it's a little too late for abortion. Nowhere to go, knowing she can't stay, Adoption became the practical option. The noxious auction caused a nauseous reaction to her conscious. Karen picked the option, least pompus, with the most promise. An intuitively honest Christian was brought to her room so she could sign the synopsis. As she's reviewing the terms of this blood oath, she glances at both of the parents cradling her second baby boy. They turn and ask "What is his name?" "I don't know. I thought he was going to be a she so I had the name Sade." "That's ok, we have a perfect name in mind. Timothy."
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Feb 26, 2017
Feb 26, 2017 at 5:26 PM UTC
Blood is Thicker
World traveller. Suit wearer. Likes The Shawshank Redemption. He's off to a singles party somewhere in Doncaster, it’s Christmas themed and fancy dress though it’s planned for October the 23rd during Christmas's only rest. And I know that in Donny you find love where you can, and I know he spent hours revising his master plan fancy dress idea, but a raw turkey outfit, coloured like **** semolina once bought for a Jamie recipe that didn’t quite work, won’t cut it on the dance floor.
0
Feb 1, 2014
Feb 1, 2014 at 10:12 AM UTC
Doncaster Speed Dating
I hope you've heard my love hiding inside the melody that Donny Hathaway plays From every poetic note folded amongst the ivory keys plucked This heart writes light like butterfly wings fluttering in flight But it's heavy when I barely see you So, my vision grows old like my wishes of us Weakened only by fleeting time Yet. lengthened Like desires that chain-link hopes to the wildest dreams along far streams You could say I'm always in your hair Wherever the strands flow, I follow its fibers feverishly Strung along by song of nature so strong, that I'm in a Pinocchio-state, made to move by your voice A puppet parroting psalms to praise your personage In the richness of your favor In the hour of knowing It's been a minute And time is indeed money Every second counts when I'm around your golden smile I wish I could play this track forever Or rewire my brain to rehearse every one of your favorite verses Be the B-side of your cassette And rewind to the best moments Unwind together. Ifeanyi N. Okoro II © 2018
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Sep 7, 2018
Sep 7, 2018 at 10:18 AM UTC
"In Tune" - 9.7.18
Poor little Donny. Long ago all he had Was his overlarge, pumpkin-shaped head, His tiny baby hands, And a small loan of a million dollars. He struck out for himself, With only that million dollars to his name. And he became a success... And then went bankrupt, And then found success again, And then bankruptcy, And finally more success. He bought himself a wife, Made himself a daughter he wants to date, And put in a run for president. Now he stands atop a pedestal, Spewing forth hate-filled words, Xenophobic and mono-syllabic. His white washed fans, bowing before their Fuhrer. Our best and brightest spend their days decrying his actions, Our true leaders point out his massive ineptitudes, Our comedians creating thoroughly researched, 20 minute rants about this tiny-handed, pumpkin man. The other leaders of the world stand baffled by Donny's popularity. But still his stands behind his podium, With his red hat, Waving his baby hands and blubbering about his "Great brain. The best brain." And the "Fantastic wall. The great wall. A Trump wall." And so the question becomes, What will this tyrannical child do When his presidential aspirations are destroyed? For he lacks the support of any minority group, Any women's group, And any level-headed person. The answer is simple: He will sue, or at least threaten to do so. He will rant and rave like the lunatic that he is. His racist followers will do the same. But their blabbering will be lost in the words of the intelligent. Or at least we hope that will be the outcome. Why, oh why, little handed Donny, Must you spew such hatred and xenophobia? Why can you not return to your tower of gold, With your expensed wife, and bobble sized pumpkin head? Please leave us be.
0
Mar 24, 2016
Mar 24, 2016 at 11:41 AM UTC
Trump
Poor little Donny. Long ago all he had Was his overlarge, pumpkin-shaped head, His tiny baby hands, And a small loan of a million dollars. He struck out for himself, With only that million dollars to his name. And he became a success... And then went bankrupt, And then found success again, And then bankruptcy, And finally more success. He bought himself a wife, Made himself a daughter he wants to date, And put in a run for president. Now he stands atop a pedestal, Spewing forth hate-filled words, Xenophobic and mono-syllabic. His white washed fans, bowing before their Fuhrer. Our best and brightest spend their days decrying his actions, Our true leaders point out his massive ineptitudes, Our comedians creating thoroughly researched, 20 minute rants about this tiny-handed, pumpkin man. The other leaders of the world stand baffled by Donny's popularity. But still his stands behind his podium, With his red hat, Waving his baby hands and blubbering about his "Great brain. The best brain." And the "Fantastic wall. The great wall. A Trump wall." And so the question becomes, What will this tyrannical child do When his presidential aspirations are destroyed? For he lacks the support of any minority group, Any women's group, And any level-headed person. The answer is simple: He will sue, or at least threaten to do so. He will rant and rave like the lunatic that he is. His racist followers will do the same. But their blabbering will be lost in the words of the intelligent. Or at least we hope that will be the outcome. Why, oh why, little handed Donny, Must you spew such hatred and xenophobia? Why can you not return to your tower of gold, With your expensed wife, and bobble sized pumpkin head? Please leave us be.
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Hot box a cigarette , sawmill gravy and country ham , Entrenched in the morning paper , dishes scrubbed , drumming of pots and pans ! Blue collar people with somewhere to be , buoy's chained to the bottom of the sea ! Sweet black ribbon covered in fire ants , May honeybees , wildebeest crossing the wild African plains.. White smokestack dens of endless toil , black tar factories , dead fish waterway , boiling star infrastructures ! Biscuit , tobacco , hot coffee welder , plumber and electrician Caviar , flounder , after dinner mint doctor and lawyer .. Goody powders ,  soda pop cures , work induced migraines for societies  'riff raff' , high atop steel skeletons , life hanging in balance . Xanax , blue cheese , marriage counselor soccer moms , yoga , wine party ..Young people lie in their own blood , candle light vigils are like all others . Repetitive anguish falling on deaf ears , billion dollar football stadiums , homeless freeze to death , Good Morning America focused on the Grammy Awards or someones *** , Miley's tongue , Scientology or Donny and Marie ! Bath salt possession , teenagers are shot full of bullets , Kelley and Michael promote Hollywood garbage , their so ******* cute !
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Nov 9, 2015
Nov 9, 2015 at 10:35 AM UTC
Monday morning spew .....
a fine week was had the day a married black candle mass time dawdle our loved stalked angel and demon the devil called heel warm- a fly born and in squash and in ***** moaning no.. fiery ****** tongue take the bride upon the stair the groom served by sundry elf while maiden scent his self- spit of toad for potent death watch for content goblet of newly born blood and saw the dead born watney´ s pale in an eight pint can red and gold before the god the revellers kowtow and the girls vie for a smile so ennuyer etched across his face evil always some distraction a turbid dracula bored vice a hold the betrothed cam sweet innocent like starsky and hutch naked and bloodied to the dark one first rites right is right..! crazy horses kicks off donny makes a come back o scream the tree crack through the clamor witchs hover ashine with mire o higher the crying the exultation..! evil the mad one ah..! evil made persona the couple sworn at each end scant hors d'oeurvre to the masters seed served cold the young old and old.. wine flows strange going on in the coat room.. be loved ***** shared..reverence and shy glance.. our old ice cream man strikes up the band..! thus man and wife  declared tied and together darkness with out end.. all cracked raise to health..! something by sinatra in the sky yon moon turns to aversion the forest weeps there then the fire in the eye of the songbird there then the cleansing sweep of the blackbird to flight..
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Dec 8, 2018
Dec 8, 2018 at 8:14 AM UTC
a fine week was had
"I love you more than buttercups!" Said little Mary Liu Said Tiny Tim to Mary Liu, "I love you more than glue!" "I love you more than applesauce." Said Betty to Lucille. Lucille replied, "I love you more than wet banana peel!" "I like you more than broccoli." Said Kimmie to her mom. Her mother smiled, "Kim I love you more than lemon balm." "I love you more than ****** Debbie told her boyfriend Don. Donny looked at her and said, "Me too! I wish that you were gone." So in the end, it seems to seem that Valentines are not Anything more than people who just like to spend a lot Valentine's Day isn't quite as glorious as we Swoon and croon and quite as big as we make it to be
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Feb 14, 2014
Feb 14, 2014 at 11:51 PM UTC
I Love You (Negative Version)
Today, I do not die for in our time we have seen too many taken Waken in me are their souls Today, I will not die for Frank, for Russell, for Betty June too soon, too soon, my friends Pay attention, I cannot cry for Jeffrey, for Paul, my first kiss named Ray They, who left amidst it all Would not wish me to shed a tear Be here, be here and know their names James, and Donny and Danny, the twins Great possibilities gone forever We, hardened more as each dropped off check off each name and know Nelson and Dean, Tony and Roy Arturo, whose own survival story was cut short Stuart, who never had his proper farewell Toned down tears may well up Still, do not give up for they watch us now How could they be forgotten? For Trashina with her unbridled moxie for John whose brilliance matched how foxy a paradox, never understood Whoever you've known Whoever you've loved, give undying respect as wrecked were their lives for ours to survive Out-and-out trials they saw Shall have my most undying respect My undying respect for them all
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Nov 30, 2018
Nov 30, 2018 at 7:01 PM UTC
My Undying Respect for World AIDS Day
I loved you in another space and time a place where I did not exist all I lived to breathe was we the nurture, the soil, the growth the seed that we were fixing our hands to plant has now vanished I am left savagely searching for those promises and words that still floats in my soul the free radicals stripping my bones from the same nourishment you once provided read between my words within them my love is somewhere hiding Copy Right 2020 ©PoeticPat - Tribute to Donny Hathaway -
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Apr 4, 2017
Apr 4, 2017 at 2:27 AM UTC
a poem for you
Oh Donny and Arnie got into a battle, begun by The Donald who started to prattle on something so urgent... important... momentous, which is: Arnie's ratings on this year's "Apprentice". So Arnie said, "Trump - What's your priority, a show you produce or the presidency?" Then Donny said, "I'll show you how much I care" as he made a dog's breakfast by hijacking prayer. So Arnie said, "Donny, you ignorant ***** when it comes to careers, perhaps we should switch. You take on the ratings as job number one, while I sit in the Oval and get something done!" Of course, this whole thing's a ridiculous act on the part of The Donald, so he can distract all of us and the press and the whole internet from the seemingly fascist agenda he's set. So let's make a vow not to speak of this stuff, and let us not heed this celebrity fluff. Let's not make muckraking the thing that we do... But now I have realized... I've just done it too!
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Feb 20, 2017
Feb 20, 2017 at 8:57 PM UTC
Donny & Arnie
It was a hot & sunny day in Arizona. Happily floating down a calm river, in between beautiful canyons & deep trenches, was Alex, Lindsey and her whole family. They had floats on their backs with water proof backpacks filled with camping gear, laughing, smiling and enjoying the ride down the natural blue waters, sliding through beautiful vibrant orange 100ft + Arizonian canyons surrounding them. It was coming to an end as their stop was approaching, Lindsey & Alex were trailing last behind Donny, Mrs. & Mr. Schuster, Lauren & even Tom. They approached a small crack in the orange wall, large enough for a few people to fit, where a meander of sand had formed from the cut banks of the river. At this meander, there was a wooden door on the wall. The rest of the family had already passed through the wooden door at this small island into an open green field. As Lindsey and Alex slowly washed up on the small orange shore, she dried herself off, and began to slowly open the door. Feeling oddly content, Alex came to a realization & stopped her with a question: “Lindsey?”… he asked as she slowly turned around and smiled at him. He sighed and calmly asked with a soft, almost defeated, tone of voice, “ … Is this a dream?” She then looked at him, subtly lost her smile, and began to open the door again. Alex slightly nodded his head up and down with understanding. He felt a great sadness but at the same time, a great acceptance of the situation. He got her attention one last time before she left and whispered "ok... I love you." She looked at him with a look of connection and grounded compassion and said "I love you too... goodbye Alex." "Goodbye Lindsey" Alex replied with a tone of finality in his voice. He held back his tears to watch her pass through the wooden door & happily jog through the grass field towards her friends & family & into the loving arms of Tom. He watched them walk away into the sun lit world that embodied the happy feelings he once felt. Once the wooden door shut on him, the temperature dropped & the river started to fill up the cave & wash away the meander. A devastating wave of tears and utmost despair overcame him, pulling his state of mind deep into an intense vortex of darkness within his own mind, destroying every sense of self, forcing his mind, body and soul to become one with infinite sadness.
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Oct 30, 2018
Oct 30, 2018 at 12:36 PM UTC
A Final Dream ( A short story)
It was a hot & sunny day in Arizona. Happily floating down a calm river, in between beautiful canyons & deep trenches, was Alex, Lindsey and her whole family. They had floats on their backs with water proof backpacks filled with camping gear, laughing, smiling and enjoying the ride down the natural blue waters, sliding through beautiful vibrant orange 100ft + Arizonian canyons surrounding them. It was coming to an end as their stop was approaching, Lindsey & Alex were trailing last behind Donny, Mrs. & Mr. Schuster, Lauren & even Tom. They approached a small crack in the orange wall, large enough for a few people to fit, where a meander of sand had formed from the cut banks of the river. At this meander, there was a wooden door on the wall. The rest of the family had already passed through the wooden door at this small island into an open green field. As Lindsey and Alex slowly washed up on the small orange shore, she dried herself off, and began to slowly open the door. Feeling oddly content, Alex came to a realization & stopped her with a question: “Lindsey?”… he asked as she slowly turned around and smiled at him. He sighed and calmly asked with a soft, almost defeated, tone of voice, “ … Is this a dream?” She then looked at him, subtly lost her smile, and began to open the door again. Alex slightly nodded his head up and down with understanding. He felt a great sadness but at the same time, a great acceptance of the situation. He got her attention one last time before she left and whispered "ok... I love you." She looked at him with a look of connection and grounded compassion and said "I love you too... goodbye Alex." "Goodbye Lindsey" Alex replied with a tone of finality in his voice. He held back his tears to watch her pass through the wooden door & happily jog through the grass field towards her friends & family & into the loving arms of Tom. He watched them walk away into the sun lit world that embodied the happy feelings he once felt. Once the wooden door shut on him, the temperature dropped & the river started to fill up the cave & wash away the meander. A devastating wave of tears and utmost despair overcame him, pulling his state of mind deep into an intense vortex of darkness within his own mind, destroying every sense of self, forcing his mind, body and soul to become one with infinite sadness.
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1
"...we have to stop being shocked and amazed....when men who are conquerors by nature also chase women....we as a society have got to become a little more anesthetized to this." Donny Deutsch **Anesthetize your daughters, oh Mighty Men, novocaine their conquered ***** Man guided penises are upon their proverbial hunts! They seek out your females; chase them from your arms All at the damnable fault of their ineffable charms Cast aside the garments you dress your girls within Then forget the ravages of every single sin And spread their arms to the world and let them hug it tight While Weiners of every kind **** with all their might Puritans are the trouble, religion the rapist’s friend Bend your daughters over, they’ll get it in the end. And Natalie, when you are finally through With this unsavory interview Lift up your dress and spread your knees And maybe, just maybe, we will ask you please.** 'and if you were caught with your pants down literally and figuratively, come clean.' upon the face of every woman you have ever seen. http://newsbusters.org/blogs/kyle-drennen/2011/06/09/nbc-puritanical-americans-must-become-anesthetized-sex-scandals
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Feb 5, 2014
Feb 5, 2014 at 9:59 AM UTC
Anesthetize your daughters
She did not intend to be with to him Though she did care for many of them She's refused many and few But She'd never fall for Don Quinn She'd been to many places and many a ride She'd seen many faces and broke mini man pride She paid no mind to the attention of men She did not desire the hand of Don Quinn They would jump and trot and stride Speak and shout And whisper lies They were merely entertainment for her eyes A trail of dead hearts lay broken that tried Still steady was the stature of this man named Quinn All ready from levies he battled within With family with money and with the closest of friends He weathered and learned and discerned to grin While others were eager to dash in front or behind Don Quinn had a plan he thought worth the time For she never took pleasure in being pushed off her line Don Quinn for the win had a plan more divine While others took leisure and gusto to sway Her focus was steady and kept on her way So Donny took heed while walking this day Still she was not looking she need not be saved He tightened his noggin and sharpened his eye He gathered his dignity and he leveled his guide She continued to dismiss the distractions of guys He paced himself on this path he would try What was his secret or his future demise? Would he falter fluster or fall before her thighs? No. Because his aim was the same as her prize He was becoming by running towards the Skye's So when she got there he found her right by his side She was not looking for Donny or a handout freedom All she needed was a companion with whom to share a sunrise Dr. Quinn practiced medicine while building a horizon he was willing to walk wait and work towards their golden Skye's Mr Quinn out did many a men simply by fixing his vision
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Jan 18, 2021
Jan 18, 2021 at 5:01 AM UTC
Don Quinn and His Beautiful Vision
She did not intend to be with to him Though she did care for many of them She's refused many and few But She'd never fall for Don Quinn She'd been to many places and many a ride She'd seen many faces and broke mini man pride She paid no mind to the attention of men She did not desire the hand of Don Quinn They would jump and trot and stride Speak and shout And whisper lies They were merely entertainment for her eyes A trail of dead hearts lay broken that tried Still steady was the stature of this man named Quinn All ready from levies he battled within With family with money and with the closest of friends He weathered and learned and discerned to grin While others were eager to dash in front or behind Don Quinn had a plan he thought worth the time For she never took pleasure in being pushed off her line Don Quinn for the win had a plan more divine While others took leisure and gusto to sway Her focus was steady and kept on her way So Donny took heed while walking this day Still she was not looking she need not be saved He tightened his noggin and sharpened his eye He gathered his dignity and he leveled his guide She continued to dismiss the distractions of guys He paced himself on this path he would try What was his secret or his future demise? Would he falter fluster or fall before her thighs? No. Because his aim was the same as her prize He was becoming by running towards the Skye's So when she got there he found her right by his side She was not looking for Donny or a handout freedom All she needed was a companion with whom to share a sunrise Dr. Quinn practiced medicine while building a horizon he was willing to walk wait and work towards their golden Skye's Mr Quinn out did many a men simply by fixing his vision
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There is Bozo, Then comes Donny. ***** follows. Above me is Bo, Bertie next. Mmm, yeah, Krunzie. The princess, "Sunshine". Yes, the little one. And me, Oh, I fit somewhere in there. But, no harm done. I'd miss me too. Usually referred to as no.5. Or no.4. Whatever you fancy. The End. -Doey
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Dec 6, 2014
Dec 6, 2014 at 1:37 AM UTC
Idiosyncrasies of a Middle Child
Loosey goosey, Gary Busey Makes more sense than you! What do you see, big kaboosie? What would Vladdy Putin do? Fussy wussy, presidential woosy Tell a whole buncha more lies. Flappy ***** big **** slappy The best your money buys. Choppy woppy, never stoppy Even when caught on tape. Shouty, pouty, tough it outy Completely out of shape. Fleecer, squeezer, ugely obese Shadow of your youth Ripoff, tipoff, always lipoff. Incapable of truth. Heapy cheapy, never sleepy Won’t pay your own bills. Brainless pain, runaway train, All your ideas can **** Neego, peego, bloated ego The little kids you scare, Shard, pard, big tub of lard, As attractive as your hair.
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Apr 5, 2018
Apr 5, 2018 at 9:15 PM UTC
DONNY-RONNY
Vast dynamic catalysts inaugurated biochemical (biological), geological, and/or meteorological processes, that didst wax and wane since time immemorial before this "FAKE" pencil neck geek NOT vain poet law re:hot bubbled outa (Compton) primordial ah stew, (ward) uber urbane, sans global Pangea some bajillion years presaging Ukraine chiseled terra firmae didst reign from hydrosphere, (setting the stage for Matthew Scott Harris to markedly twain (train) his thoughts), wrought variable dramatic, epochal geographic upheavals (recorded palimpsest like) across global terrain catastrophic, dramatic, epic forces rendered prehistoric creatures slain extinction, though billions of years survived Prince sip pull purple rain skill little till lee (skeletally), within said dam hint (sediment) permanently preserving an impress'n quatrain jam packed with species, some of which flew like a donny soaring plane signaled onset and demise of supposed pseudonymous terrible lizards with bulging eyes "NON FAKE" special effects, but actual - no lies wooly alive paw lick tickly incorrect, tough, winning ignoble dangerous prize huge, out of control, trumpeting, who eve vent chilly gave rise to Adam Abel bodied **** sitter ably reduced cane raising, (yet most fearsome) size a totally tubularly err wrecked primate nada so wise.
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Sep 14, 2018
Sep 14, 2018 at 3:06 AM UTC
The Raw Power Of Natural Phenomena
Listening to Donny Hathaway And I'm singing this song to you Can you hear me? Deep in the clouds, high in the skies Along banks of rolling rivers Mountain tops and rolling tides I love you for my life You're a friend of mine I cry because I miss you so I never got to tell you how much love I have for you How much I loved your soul and I am afraid you'll never know So can you hear me? I'll love you for my life You're a friend of mine And I'm singing this song to you
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Mar 26, 2014
Mar 26, 2014 at 8:26 AM UTC
disbelief-- how it hits me
dead doe on the baked prairie grass, buzzards circling overhead we're in lawn chairs, downing Buds, waiting for the feeding to begin but Donny is impatient, expecting the birds to dine on his schedule NOW, this very second, while they are riding the currents above watching, waiting to see if we move closer to our **** Donny curses them: **** dumb birds, I shot that deer for you he shoots at the kettle, but they continue long loops, unperturbed Donny again cusses the buzzards and shoots the doe again as if killing her twice will hasten the descent of the birds Donny complains sweat is stinging his eyes he pours the last of our water over his head and removes his shirt near sundown we are out of beer and Donny is asleep one by one the birds land, until the wake is feasting before me talons, beaks at work, tugging, tearing; the eyes the appetizers it seems I don't wake Donny, though I know he will be mad for missing this meal hungry as he was for a blood mass, but, I'll let my brother sleep while the shadows of skillful sculptors grow longer on the plain and the fawn becomes a crimson work of art Donny would never appreciate
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Jul 28, 2017
Jul 28, 2017 at 10:08 PM UTC
on summer's plain
Of Anchor babes he cries foul but it seems an empty howl. Just look at HIS life A Serbian “Anchor” wife! Plus a Russian first spouse what a hypocritical louse. And He reveres Vladimir why, He holds him so dear. His claims of innocence belie perhaps HE’S the Russian spy. Give Donny the code? not well does that bode - He’ll repopulate the earth using his daughter with mirth! Heaven forbid we elect this toad for our fair States it’s the wrong road. He’ll be busy building a wall while the crazed shooter's at the mall. With this whacko in charge and his cabinet at large All we’ve worked for is gone while the lemmings follow the “Don”
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Dec 2, 2016
Dec 2, 2016 at 3:04 AM UTC
Trumpty Dumpty
we started school during the Korean "police action" like extra syllables made murderous mayhem more palatable than calling it another dreadful WAR, half a decade after we won the last one those of us who survived yet another crazy Asian WAR are now fading fast I take in news of our passing with my morning coffee, reading the obits like they were the sports scores and every one I see whose numbers are smaller than mine remind me I am playing Russian roulette with the clock, every hour were it within my power, I'd spin those hands backwards to a day before cybertime when Donny, Johnny and I went to the park to toss a hardball into well pocketed gloves, and discovered the delights of peanut butter and marshmallow cream sandwiches back, back to a day Ike was pres, and I would watch The Twilight Zone with religious fidelity--back, to a time so ancient Maris had not yet slammed in number 61, chipping away at the Babe's immortality some told us the end was near, and death by fierce fire was a reasonable fear long before the missiles of October and JFK's intrepid blockade but the mushroom clouds never did appear, and here I am with Medicare card in hand, living in the same land where men with funny hair make ominous "tweets" and Manchild dictators with tiny peckers lob missiles into the sea wishing Clark Kent were still around ready to don his cape and take a leap and a bound, and save us from ourselves but first he would have to find a phone booth in which to change...
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Aug 26, 2017
Aug 26, 2017 at 3:52 PM UTC
the oldest boomers
we started school during the Korean "police action" like extra syllables made murderous mayhem more palatable than calling it another dreadful WAR, half a decade after we won the last one those of us who survived yet another crazy Asian WAR are now fading fast I take in news of our passing with my morning coffee, reading the obits like they were the sports scores and every one I see whose numbers are smaller than mine remind me I am playing Russian roulette with the clock, every hour were it within my power, I'd spin those hands backwards to a day before cybertime when Donny, Johnny and I went to the park to toss a hardball into well pocketed gloves, and discovered the delights of peanut butter and marshmallow cream sandwiches back, back to a day Ike was pres, and I would watch The Twilight Zone with religious fidelity--back, to a time so ancient Maris had not yet slammed in number 61, chipping away at the Babe's immortality some told us the end was near, and death by fierce fire was a reasonable fear long before the missiles of October and JFK's intrepid blockade but the mushroom clouds never did appear, and here I am with Medicare card in hand, living in the same land where men with funny hair make ominous "tweets" and Manchild dictators with tiny peckers lob missiles into the sea wishing Clark Kent were still around ready to don his cape and take a leap and a bound, and save us from ourselves but first he would have to find a phone booth in which to change...
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THE SKY IS FALLING! THE SKY IS                        F                          A                             L                               L                                 I                                   N                                     G! our sitch                    at the moment                    is quite the same unless we are crying                      WOLF! WOLF!               thank u                miss info                 dis-em-e-na-tor                   donny j     without whom      we wouldn’t                                      be standing                                       under umbrellas           with baren spines            as the thunderous                       angry skies            fully open upon us Presidential now, are we?            Yoda would posit To the game, late you are #45 THE SKY IS FALLING as wall street is               we                shelter in place                social animals that we are      self isolate      worry     catastrophize    ignore           attempts to hold on                   we                    reach out to comfort                                    to be comforted get out your cards throw the i ching            the runes program & grid your crystals wash your hands cover your mouth maintain isolation                 social distance daren’t cough              sneeze              touch try not to breathe                   thru all this                    cling to sanity          cuz baby              looks like we just                      stepped on the carousel
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Mar 21, 2020
Mar 21, 2020 at 9:15 PM UTC
Heed Chicken Little
THE SKY IS FALLING! THE SKY IS                        F                          A                             L                               L                                 I                                   N                                     G! our sitch                    at the moment                    is quite the same unless we are crying                      WOLF! WOLF!               thank u                miss info                 dis-em-e-na-tor                   donny j     without whom      we wouldn’t                                      be standing                                       under umbrellas           with baren spines            as the thunderous                       angry skies            fully open upon us Presidential now, are we?            Yoda would posit To the game, late you are #45 THE SKY IS FALLING as wall street is               we                shelter in place                social animals that we are      self isolate      worry     catastrophize    ignore           attempts to hold on                   we                    reach out to comfort                                    to be comforted get out your cards throw the i ching            the runes program & grid your crystals wash your hands cover your mouth maintain isolation                 social distance daren’t cough              sneeze              touch try not to breathe                   thru all this                    cling to sanity          cuz baby              looks like we just                      stepped on the carousel
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