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"dora" poems
Supposedly too much television will rot your brain away BUT... you can 't believe what everyone may say KERMIT told us it ain't easy being green TAYLOR SWIFT taught us people can be trouble & really mean SEBASTIAN the CRAB told us it is better down where it is wetter CINDERELLA taught us that eventually things will get better SPONGEBOB SQUAREPANTS told us over & over he's READY! he's READY! THE TORTOISE taught us that being quick may not always work KAYNE WEST taught us people are rude, interrupting, annoying & huge jerks MR KRABS taught us some people are money hungry & greedy LINDSAY LOHAN taught us some people are attention needy DORA THE EXPLORER taught us to live our life as an adventure & go explore SWIPER taught us to always go for more SQUIDWARD taught us not everyone has happiness to share PATRICK STAR taught us that some people's heads are filled with air PLANKTON taught us that you can never give up on reaching your goal ALICE's curiosity taught us don't chase white rabbits with pocket watches down their hole PETER PAN taught us to live carefree & have no worries at all HORTON taught us that a person is a person no matter how small THE LORAX taught us to take care of our trees SNOW WHITE taught us that there maybe more than what the eye sees TOMMY PICKLES taught us sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do THE GRINCH taught us that deep down inside, the cruel have hearts too NEMO'S DAD MARLIN taught us you can't protect people from all & or any danger BARNEY taught us not to talk to a stranger TIMONE & PUMBA taught us "HAKUNA MATATA" LILO & STITCH taught us no one gets left behind or forgotten, that is "OHANA" SOUTH PARK taught us not to give a **** & some friends can be a huge ****** BAG JUSTIN BIEBER taught us what isn't "SWAG" STEWIE taught us that even if you're talking not everyone is listening NELLY taught us that not everywhere has air conditioning "HOT IN HERRE" DOROTHY taught us is you want to go home just click your heels three times & repeat "THERE IS NO PLACE LIKE HOME" SOUTH PARK'S TWEAK taught us that your underwear get stolen by the underwear gnomes So much we've unknowingly managed to obtain secretly stored in our brain celebrities, songs, shows & even cartoons have taught us a lot & that's what life lessons are all about little hidden lessons & messages everywhere & completely unaware you pass it on & share
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Aug 17, 2015
Aug 17, 2015 at 4:00 AM UTC
Consciously Unaware, Taught Subconsciously..
Supposedly too much television will rot your brain away BUT... you can 't believe what everyone may say KERMIT told us it ain't easy being green TAYLOR SWIFT taught us people can be trouble & really mean SEBASTIAN the CRAB told us it is better down where it is wetter CINDERELLA taught us that eventually things will get better SPONGEBOB SQUAREPANTS told us over & over he's READY! he's READY! THE TORTOISE taught us that being quick may not always work KAYNE WEST taught us people are rude, interrupting, annoying & huge jerks MR KRABS taught us some people are money hungry & greedy LINDSAY LOHAN taught us some people are attention needy DORA THE EXPLORER taught us to live our life as an adventure & go explore SWIPER taught us to always go for more SQUIDWARD taught us not everyone has happiness to share PATRICK STAR taught us that some people's heads are filled with air PLANKTON taught us that you can never give up on reaching your goal ALICE's curiosity taught us don't chase white rabbits with pocket watches down their hole PETER PAN taught us to live carefree & have no worries at all HORTON taught us that a person is a person no matter how small THE LORAX taught us to take care of our trees SNOW WHITE taught us that there maybe more than what the eye sees TOMMY PICKLES taught us sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do THE GRINCH taught us that deep down inside, the cruel have hearts too NEMO'S DAD MARLIN taught us you can't protect people from all & or any danger BARNEY taught us not to talk to a stranger TIMONE & PUMBA taught us "HAKUNA MATATA" LILO & STITCH taught us no one gets left behind or forgotten, that is "OHANA" SOUTH PARK taught us not to give a **** & some friends can be a huge ****** BAG JUSTIN BIEBER taught us what isn't "SWAG" STEWIE taught us that even if you're talking not everyone is listening NELLY taught us that not everywhere has air conditioning "HOT IN HERRE" DOROTHY taught us is you want to go home just click your heels three times & repeat "THERE IS NO PLACE LIKE HOME" SOUTH PARK'S TWEAK taught us that your underwear get stolen by the underwear gnomes So much we've unknowingly managed to obtain secretly stored in our brain celebrities, songs, shows & even cartoons have taught us a lot & that's what life lessons are all about little hidden lessons & messages everywhere & completely unaware you pass it on & share
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Good Day spoken in a bad austrailian accent bad juju voodoo clear light poltergeist on disablity Hoarding every scrap of miserable memories attached to trash your apartment is a holiday for nightmares and childmolesters ******* magazines, old sanitary napkins , bad vhs movies lay like dead soldiers waiting for the war to end Black bags and boxes scattered every where are villages to rats and every unknown pestilence you can only read about in medical textbooks. half eaten pizzas covered in pickles dried up sadly looking at empty pills You have no hold on me I can't understand your pain nor will i listen to your overdramatic ******** about whoever or scheming to defraud Walmart Your mutilation is a scar spelling sociopathic miscreant child trapped in an old mismatched shell of no clear gender. Your diagnostic prophecies from the dsm5 dismissed like school on a snow day. Will commands the unentanglement uncurse unfear dispell all your contradictions accusations monologrhthyms bad music choices and echoes of muttered mustard. only truth will be uplifted Peace be with you whereever you are currently infesting enjoy your dora the explorer ice cream Was there ever a floor in here?
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Mar 25, 2010
Mar 25, 2010 at 12:53 AM UTC
good day
**One late night in Seattle I had an out of body experience. I jotted down this love letter from my deceased mother. She told me a long time ago she'll be living in my heart forever, here is proof.** You have to be patient with yourself. Know that nothing comes easy. You're going to fall multiple times throughout life but doesn't mean you can't stand above it. You'll have people who will break your heart having you searching for answers that you may never find. But know when it's right to let go. The more you look at the past the more destructive you'll become. I want you to be happy, I know you're more than capable of that. I remember you being a little girl that used to laugh at the little things. Understand life has it's ups & downs, that is something you'll never be able to escape. Remove yourself from anything negative or harmful to your heart. You are who you are & no one can alter that. Experience living but take advantage of the tangible things in front of you. Life doesn't always go as planned. The choices you make can only lead you to what fate has already decided. Love yourself like I did when I first met you at birth. Keep me close to you & never forget how much I love you. - Mommy Dora
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Nov 5, 2016
Nov 5, 2016 at 6:09 PM UTC
Mommy Dearest
That day I met her at the Shelter She said, “My name is Dora", While hanging upside down, off kilter, “I’m Dora the Explorer!” Balanced on the armoire door Beckoning me to help her retrieve Hanging high above the floor A ballet that I couldn’t believe... Up on one toe she dangled As she demanded I help her reach Some toys she longed to wrangle Until we heard a commanding screech! “Get down from there!  Wash your hands! Asia, it’s almost time for dinner!" Dora leapt-trusting- she lands Her high-flying act a sure winner! Oh, Dora, who is Asia? She said, “I don’t like that name-sorry! Later let's play a new game? After dinner my name is Laurie!” Since she answered to that name I schooled her in her name’s history But Dora just wouldn’t be tamed “Not a CONTINENT-I’m a MYSTERY!” Asia, alias Laurie Dora After supper, brushed and scrubbed Gave the best, my airy explorer- Dora's monumental hug! She sprang to my arms without warning Like a monkey from a vine I wasn’t aware until morning It was the best hug of all time!
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Mar 16, 2016
Mar 16, 2016 at 4:47 PM UTC
Dora the Explorer
Meri paidaish k waqt woh khushi aur fikr ke mix emotions mein kho raha tha.... Mujhe janam to meri maa de rahi thi, par usse dekh inhe bhi dard ** raha tha. Jab main bol nahi pata,tabse meri khawahisho ko pura karne ka zimma uthaya tha... Kandhe pe bitha kar duniya dikhayi aur ungli pakad ke papa ne chalna sikhaya tha. Bhale khud,hindi medium mein aathwi kaksha tak ki thi padhai.... Par paise jama kar kar, seher ki best English school mein meri admission thi karwayi. Office mein over time kar ke, mere future ki planning mein paise bachate the..... Khud eid pe purane kapde pehente, par humare liye naye kapde silwate the. Par tab zindagi mein, papa ka balidan aur pyaar kaha samjh mein aana tha..... Papa ko thank u, i love u baad mein keh denge abhi to sirf paisa kamana tha. Phir ek raat dosto k sang, madhoshi humpe chahi thi..... Par waha fikr k maare papa ko neend kaha aayi thi. Papa ka phone aaya to number dekh pehle phone kaat diya..... Jab wapas call aaya to   "kyun pareshan kar rahe ** keh kar papa ko daat diya. Phir agli subah phone aaya to socha, papa ko baar baar phone karne k liye naa kahe.... Par samne se awaz aayi "yeh jiska phn hai, unhe raste pe dil ka dora aaya, aur woh abb nahi rahe" Aaj raat hai par sulane wala nahi.... Dost aur party hai par phn kar haal puchne wala nahi. Aaj kehne to bahut kuch hai, par koi sunne wala nahi... Abb bol sakta hoon, phir bhi khawahisho ko pura karne wala nahi. Jab keh sakta tha tab maine kaha nahi.... Aaj paisa to bohot hai, par thank u, i love u kehne ko papa nahi.
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Apr 8, 2019
Apr 8, 2019 at 12:30 AM UTC
Papa
Meri paidaish k waqt woh khushi aur fikr ke mix emotions mein kho raha tha.... Mujhe janam to meri maa de rahi thi, par usse dekh inhe bhi dard ** raha tha. Jab main bol nahi pata,tabse meri khawahisho ko pura karne ka zimma uthaya tha... Kandhe pe bitha kar duniya dikhayi aur ungli pakad ke papa ne chalna sikhaya tha. Bhale khud,hindi medium mein aathwi kaksha tak ki thi padhai.... Par paise jama kar kar, seher ki best English school mein meri admission thi karwayi. Office mein over time kar ke, mere future ki planning mein paise bachate the..... Khud eid pe purane kapde pehente, par humare liye naye kapde silwate the. Par tab zindagi mein, papa ka balidan aur pyaar kaha samjh mein aana tha..... Papa ko thank u, i love u baad mein keh denge abhi to sirf paisa kamana tha. Phir ek raat dosto k sang, madhoshi humpe chahi thi..... Par waha fikr k maare papa ko neend kaha aayi thi. Papa ka phone aaya to number dekh pehle phone kaat diya..... Jab wapas call aaya to   "kyun pareshan kar rahe ** keh kar papa ko daat diya. Phir agli subah phone aaya to socha, papa ko baar baar phone karne k liye naa kahe.... Par samne se awaz aayi "yeh jiska phn hai, unhe raste pe dil ka dora aaya, aur woh abb nahi rahe" Aaj raat hai par sulane wala nahi.... Dost aur party hai par phn kar haal puchne wala nahi. Aaj kehne to bahut kuch hai, par koi sunne wala nahi... Abb bol sakta hoon, phir bhi khawahisho ko pura karne wala nahi. Jab keh sakta tha tab maine kaha nahi.... Aaj paisa to bohot hai, par thank u, i love u kehne ko papa nahi.
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Hi . . . This is about the kinds of people who work in corporate big money office buildings . . . Imagine them at lunchtime, how they interact and picture the scene in any . . . Busy little bistro Sharp - sharks - circle - the - pack Pinstripe finned and eager Snapping their snacks back with ease Points to prove with nothing to lose No cracks in their creases They're keen to return to the fray. These boys play with girls Aren't yet uncles with nieces Just unproven throwaway pieces . . . In shiny . eat ***** . suited up . Chelsea boots Bidding for ***** with cute looks and loot Touting with confident ***** . . . As mobile as their smart devices Loose Next . . . ? And fresh from a mornings abuse And fifteen years of fear . . Beleaguered older shirts sit . . Flogged dogs with weak barks Parked packed into packs. Tongue tied ties tied together Safety is numbers Get each others backs These partially satisfied cats Know today is NOT their day . . That was yesterday . . . Obliging lives and mortgages The reasons why they stay Passing Cabs cruise . . . Seen it all before. Sat in the back a high class ***** Glazed eyes glancing away From her play-away payday Nibbles in the boardroom . . Napkins . . for the dribbles A working lunch for this Girl Her money-shot a wrap without applause Was just a . . . pause . . . between paws . . Then Dora on reception John, who minds the door Evie in the IT room Or dave . . who buffs the Marble Sparkles glinting in the floor . . And the guards . . who guard . . what exactly . . ? All of this . . ? Networking . . !!! Everybody's selling something It doesn't quite stink But it definitely smells A little high As time whiles by Seems this Is the state of our nation And in this state Defines our aspirations And yes . . this state's a splinter Taunting my imagination . . . Do I stake my place within this game Or sit in observation Commentating on a race Where human nature fakes it's place Where people sit as players Yet no one wears their own face
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Aug 9, 2013
Aug 9, 2013 at 12:20 PM UTC
Busy Little Bistro
Hi . . . This is about the kinds of people who work in corporate big money office buildings . . . Imagine them at lunchtime, how they interact and picture the scene in any . . . Busy little bistro Sharp - sharks - circle - the - pack Pinstripe finned and eager Snapping their snacks back with ease Points to prove with nothing to lose No cracks in their creases They're keen to return to the fray. These boys play with girls Aren't yet uncles with nieces Just unproven throwaway pieces . . . In shiny . eat ***** . suited up . Chelsea boots Bidding for ***** with cute looks and loot Touting with confident ***** . . . As mobile as their smart devices Loose Next . . . ? And fresh from a mornings abuse And fifteen years of fear . . Beleaguered older shirts sit . . Flogged dogs with weak barks Parked packed into packs. Tongue tied ties tied together Safety is numbers Get each others backs These partially satisfied cats Know today is NOT their day . . That was yesterday . . . Obliging lives and mortgages The reasons why they stay Passing Cabs cruise . . . Seen it all before. Sat in the back a high class ***** Glazed eyes glancing away From her play-away payday Nibbles in the boardroom . . Napkins . . for the dribbles A working lunch for this Girl Her money-shot a wrap without applause Was just a . . . pause . . . between paws . . Then Dora on reception John, who minds the door Evie in the IT room Or dave . . who buffs the Marble Sparkles glinting in the floor . . And the guards . . who guard . . what exactly . . ? All of this . . ? Networking . . !!! Everybody's selling something It doesn't quite stink But it definitely smells A little high As time whiles by Seems this Is the state of our nation And in this state Defines our aspirations And yes . . this state's a splinter Taunting my imagination . . . Do I stake my place within this game Or sit in observation Commentating on a race Where human nature fakes it's place Where people sit as players Yet no one wears their own face
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Llamar al pan el pan y que aparezca sobre el mantel el pan de cada día; darle al sudor lo suyo y darle al sueño y al breve paraíso y al infierno y al cuerpo y al minuto lo que piden; reír como el mar ríe, el viento ríe, sin que la risa suene a vidrios rotos; beber y en la embriaguez asir la vida, bailar el baile sin perder el paso, tocar la mano de un desconocido en un día de piedra y agonía y que esa mano tenga la firmeza que no tuvo la mano del amigo; probar la soledad sin que el vinagre haga torcer mi boca, ni repita mis muecas el espejo, ni el silencio se erice con los dientes que rechinan: estas cuatro paredes -papel, yeso, alfombra rala y foco amarillento- no son aún el prometido infierno; que no me duela más aquel deseo, helado por el miedo, llaga fría, quemadura de labios no besados: el agua clara nunca se detiene y hay frutas que se caen de maduras; saber partir el pan y repartirlo, el pan de una verdad común a todos, verdad de pan que a todos nos sustenta, por cuya levadura soy un hombre, un semejante entre mis semejantes; pelear por la vida de los vivos, dar la vida a los vivos, a la vida, y enterrar a los muertos y olvidarlos como la tierra los olvida: en frutos… Y que a la hora de mi muerte logre morir como los hombres y me alcance el perdón y la vida perdurable del polvo, de los frutos, y del polvo. Tal sobre el muro rotas uñas graban un nombre, una esperanza, una blasfemia, sobre el papel, sobre la arena, escribo estas palabras mal encadenadas. Entre sus secas sílabas acaso un día te detengas: pisa el polvo, esparce la ceniza, sé ligera como la luz ligera y sin memoria que brilla en cada hoja, en cada piedra, dora la tumba y dora la colina y nada la detiene ni apresura.
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1.7k
La vida sencilla
Llamar al pan el pan y que aparezca sobre el mantel el pan de cada día; darle al sudor lo suyo y darle al sueño y al breve paraíso y al infierno y al cuerpo y al minuto lo que piden; reír como el mar ríe, el viento ríe, sin que la risa suene a vidrios rotos; beber y en la embriaguez asir la vida, bailar el baile sin perder el paso, tocar la mano de un desconocido en un día de piedra y agonía y que esa mano tenga la firmeza que no tuvo la mano del amigo; probar la soledad sin que el vinagre haga torcer mi boca, ni repita mis muecas el espejo, ni el silencio se erice con los dientes que rechinan: estas cuatro paredes -papel, yeso, alfombra rala y foco amarillento- no son aún el prometido infierno; que no me duela más aquel deseo, helado por el miedo, llaga fría, quemadura de labios no besados: el agua clara nunca se detiene y hay frutas que se caen de maduras; saber partir el pan y repartirlo, el pan de una verdad común a todos, verdad de pan que a todos nos sustenta, por cuya levadura soy un hombre, un semejante entre mis semejantes; pelear por la vida de los vivos, dar la vida a los vivos, a la vida, y enterrar a los muertos y olvidarlos como la tierra los olvida: en frutos… Y que a la hora de mi muerte logre morir como los hombres y me alcance el perdón y la vida perdurable del polvo, de los frutos, y del polvo. Tal sobre el muro rotas uñas graban un nombre, una esperanza, una blasfemia, sobre el papel, sobre la arena, escribo estas palabras mal encadenadas. Entre sus secas sílabas acaso un día te detengas: pisa el polvo, esparce la ceniza, sé ligera como la luz ligera y sin memoria que brilla en cada hoja, en cada piedra, dora la tumba y dora la colina y nada la detiene ni apresura.
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Geografia I Quando a Vila Jaiara era do mundo O centro vital; se mais longe houvesse, Lá chegara, aos saltos, de susto tomado Em mim mesmo; silente rezava o missal. Corria pelos campos – a savana, cerrado. O medo do sistema heliocêntrico Ainda não perdera: o medo de ser Só. Eu vivia com meus irmãos e irmãs – Éramos uma centena de bichinhos Em torno de nossa mãe adotada, A quem chamávamos de Senhora. E em torno dela, tudo girava, girava... Os grandes mandavam-nos, sorrateiros, Andar pelo cerrado em busca de tudo: Gabirobas, cajuzinhos, goiabas ... Na Vila Jaiara havia tanta coisa mais. A casa de Helena; de deuses onde doces. Que à caminhada tornava clara para nós. Centro luminoso em que a ceia do Senhor. Não havia São Paulo ou Rio de Janeiro – No máximo: Belo Horizonte, Araxá Povoavam nossos sonhos. E talvez Ouro Preto e Divinópolis – Onde Dora reinava... - Goiânia, São Petersburgo e Tegucigalpa – só no Atlas. Anápolis era outra estória: a cidade, o comércio longe demais... Ali na Jaiara estava o centro de tudo e no centro de tudo o amor: Laíde Epifânia me nomeara “Maninho”. Naquele tempo, na nossa vila, não passava um rio. Mas havia a fábrica de tecidos, onde Jorge – Noivo de minha irmã – tecia a união e afeto E me ensinava a andar de bicicleta. Do Vietnã,  só soube no ginásio. ./.
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Feb 7, 2016
Feb 7, 2016 at 5:28 PM UTC
Geography I
When my wife’s great Aunt ‘Dora died We received a strange bequest. Not land or Gold or Mallomars Just an ornate box, covered in dust. Her will strictly enjoined us from opening the box. The sides had cryptic puzzles That served it as strong locks The box was rather gaudy Carved from finest sandalwood Inlaid with golden letters a Greek would have understood. We both took very seriously The task to guard this prize To keep this family heirloom preserved from prying eyes.. Ten years it stood there in our room An enigmatic guest And often I would ponder it while I was getting dressed. Until one dark December day In the Millennial year Curiosity overcame my wife And she succumbed, I fear. My Darling, being curious, Solved the riddles on the side She was just prying up the lid As I ran inside.. A disembodied Banshee screamed The air was thick and red. I rushed to close the box back up in existential dread. Still, the world seemed little changed As I sequestered hope. The radio said by 5-4 George Bush had won the vote I think on all that’s happened since As things have gone to Hell ****** wars in foreign lands Discord at home as well. Since then twin towers crashed and burned And Wall Street did the same Do you think it could be possible Aunt Pandora’s Box shares blame?
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May 12, 2013
May 12, 2013 at 3:11 PM UTC
Aunt Dora's Box
SHY ~ BASHFUL.... Do those words still apply? It seems that the words now are, SMART ~ BOLD..... Children are so amazing With there knowledge. They have baby computers, To learn there A,B,C's A Kindle to play learning games Or to read a book... Dora the Explorer To learn a foreign language. There is T-Ball, baseball, soccer For exercise. BUT.... Will they know how to sign their name? And now there is on line education.... WHAT??? What some and I say some Children lack is IMAGINATION... RESPECT....and the freedom to give a HUG... Nothing is, SIMPLE... Anymore at least to Some and I say some grandmas... Because we grandmas lost the freedom To give a SHY ~ BASHFUL child A HUG...
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Jul 15, 2014
Jul 15, 2014 at 8:13 AM UTC
SHY ~ BASHFUL....
It is when you draw the curtains on the day, that the house takes on a different aura, the lamps lit, the library empty of him, the study where he often sat and wrote is tomb-like; the passageways echo his footsteps only in memory; his place at dinner is vacant, although you insist his place is set up as it always was; his space in bed empty of him, you sleep alone, wanting him, wanting him so much, so much it aches worse than any wound, it wounds you deeply, right through to your core. The evening sky is slowly drawing in. The moon bright as a coin drifts by. You have closed it out; you stand there wanting him to embrace you as once he would; want to sense his kisses on your naked neck as once he had. You walk to the chair and listen; wait for dinner; wait for night and sleeplessness; wait for him who will now never ever come. You feel so empty; feel so so numb.
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Oct 3, 2018
Oct 3, 2018 at 12:11 PM UTC
Dora's Evenings 1932.
Explore the inner depths of your mind, turning over every rock, inspecting every crevice to find the metaphysical.
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Sep 30, 2012
Sep 30, 2012 at 12:10 PM UTC
They Do Not Call Me Dora
Toddlers can put green crayons in the freezer without Anybody questioning them and I Have a problem with that. I have a problem with the fact that toddlers can put Green crayons in the freezer and tell their parents that they are Preserving The Earth and that they’ve been learning about Animal adaptations and conjunctions in school And that they Love Their friends. I have a problem with the fact that a Toddler’s idea of Beauty Is a butterfly landing on their finger during Recess, a snowflake on their tongue, the Grogginess of  staying up past 8:30, Scooby snacks, Dora the Explorer, The satisfaction of scraping the First chunk out of a tub of butter, the Giddiness and fear at your first sleepover, The one where you had to timidly shake your Friend awake in the middle of the night because you could Not for the Life of you find the bathroom. I’m not ashamed to admit that I haven’t said I love you in a time that Lingers like the smell of burning. It’s always love you or love ya and I’ve Forgotten what it feels like for those words to Caress my lips, to guide my heart Out of its cage into the Stale air. I want to be considering beauty like a Toddler.  I want to be watching Dora and Learning about conjunctions, but instead I’m Crying because I can’t fit into my jeans right and I Don’t know how to do makeup.  I want to say I love you and let it Ring in the air like Frozen music But I can’t Because you’re States away and instead I brush my hair So many times for people who don’t even like me that There’s no personality left. I have a problem with the fact that you Moved on so quickly and left me with the Loves me not flower petal and that Dora the Explorer is not on Netflix Anymore and the price of Happy Meals goes Up everyday like the age of my Heart   And that Toddlers can put green crayons in the freezer without Anybody questioning them and say that They Are preserving the Earth.
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Feb 8, 2020
Feb 8, 2020 at 4:29 PM UTC
Green Crayons
Toddlers can put green crayons in the freezer without Anybody questioning them and I Have a problem with that. I have a problem with the fact that toddlers can put Green crayons in the freezer and tell their parents that they are Preserving The Earth and that they’ve been learning about Animal adaptations and conjunctions in school And that they Love Their friends. I have a problem with the fact that a Toddler’s idea of Beauty Is a butterfly landing on their finger during Recess, a snowflake on their tongue, the Grogginess of  staying up past 8:30, Scooby snacks, Dora the Explorer, The satisfaction of scraping the First chunk out of a tub of butter, the Giddiness and fear at your first sleepover, The one where you had to timidly shake your Friend awake in the middle of the night because you could Not for the Life of you find the bathroom. I’m not ashamed to admit that I haven’t said I love you in a time that Lingers like the smell of burning. It’s always love you or love ya and I’ve Forgotten what it feels like for those words to Caress my lips, to guide my heart Out of its cage into the Stale air. I want to be considering beauty like a Toddler.  I want to be watching Dora and Learning about conjunctions, but instead I’m Crying because I can’t fit into my jeans right and I Don’t know how to do makeup.  I want to say I love you and let it Ring in the air like Frozen music But I can’t Because you’re States away and instead I brush my hair So many times for people who don’t even like me that There’s no personality left. I have a problem with the fact that you Moved on so quickly and left me with the Loves me not flower petal and that Dora the Explorer is not on Netflix Anymore and the price of Happy Meals goes Up everyday like the age of my Heart   And that Toddlers can put green crayons in the freezer without Anybody questioning them and say that They Are preserving the Earth.
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Dora! People with big noses are beautiful! Anyway, Dora of the Noble Nose as a single rose as a solitary diamond so brilliantly in love with Gilbert! Married and years later... She kept the paper folded in her jewelry drawer... the paper from the hospital that said... she was pregnant! With you! in her jewelry drawer! Joan, My friend It was you she kept as folded treasure till her death at 82 I read your Kaddish, Dora I watch the shovels fly as stones collect like children of the prayers upon your grave Thank God, Joanie! You have no heir At grief’s end there’s no one left... to die of love’s enfolding leaving everything to... Joanie Treasure! Joanie Only! To my friend, her mother, and father
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May 28, 2017
May 28, 2017 at 10:55 AM UTC
Joanie Only
Her eyes were wide open: she spoke with confident The sun shines brightly from the west That came directly from the boardwalk: I tried not to stare directly at her lower parts But once I look at the negativity :the body shaming Keep on rising, my lips were sealed: Hello, my name is Anna, and how are you? I heard about them, I saw their videos But to be up close: defaming the obesity epidemic I saw Lucy the human sow pig, The Triumphant Elephant struggles, Years of food that could have save thousands Of hungry children lives: she lay there dictating, deteriorating I stood there as a poet with a pen. not a Nurse of a friend, Gasping, sighing She fights for air; I fumbled for words of expression: To report back to Jack Kevorkian: Was on displayed: there that day Her hands reach for the oxygen wire, I knew and she knew how I felt about her She looked right at me, when she said the words “Anna do you speak the Language I said “oh no, “God forbid And from that moment, I know she was waiting, waiting, To leave this world behind her: Sadly, I got to know her better, she was sweet and sour at the same she brought a bottle of champagne for the staff for the New years, and in February she passed away.. R.I.P Dora
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Oct 23, 2018
Oct 23, 2018 at 6:56 PM UTC
Uncomfortable Thoughts
Cómo duermes, pequeña, en tu cunita, cerca del fuego que te abriga y dora. Te contemplo un minuto, media hora, y tú sigues dormida, dormidita. Un carro pasa, un leño azul crepita, sube una voz del aire triunfadora, y tú como si tal, mínima aurora, la pestaña ¡ay de mí! casi infinita. Eres la primordial Indiferencia ante la expectativa, ante el anhelo hechos de resignación, vueltos paciencia. Soy tu primer poeta y soy tu abuelo... Tal vez clames un día mi presencia: búscame por la tierra y por el cielo.
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1.2k
Presencia
Her friends in the dark, always playing games, The headless One in places never expected always A mouthful of jelly maggots, he likes the games. "I eat one every now and again, The eyeless one never watching where he goes always Jumping out ***** nails so I gave then a coat of baby Pink much prettier, now his teeth all un-neat. "Sharp and graceful what do you think, They like the place of perpetual darkness, they said I Can visit it soon, I packed my Dora bag. they said its A one way trip, one more game of hide and seek. "A slimy goes down before my eternal sleep Mmm...,
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Aug 1, 2015
Aug 1, 2015 at 7:18 AM UTC
My Friends In The Darkest Places
I smack babies with my wrist watch **** washers in the backseat mad talk about battle broads and coke hogs I'm outside of town out of coke. out of **** smoke I binge on some coffee grounds my girl found between the seats our sheets soak in blood behind the back seat there's mud between my teeth. my mothers grief, it cannot phase me I'm lazy I'm drunk I'm going 90 and I can't see but, there's people all around me shouting things I wring my socks out in the mouths of all the people tied up in our car I start to say "you're welcome"  but I can't help but be distracted by the Spanish girl in the middle jaw unhinged and dripping spittle she says "come a little closer" I say "Jesus, take the wheel" I stretch up close and smell her teeth we close our eyes and start to breathe each others  breath I read her mind she'd like to slice me like the swine she thinks I am but I'm just glad that I have cigarettes to burn her with we'll happily take our turns with her then we'll ditch her on some curb without a note
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Aug 20, 2014
Aug 20, 2014 at 12:12 AM UTC
dora the explorer
I do not want to rise to my feet. But there’s no snooze button on a child. Rise. Shine. Sleep. Repeat. *This place is a ******* mess.* I tidy up while she watches Dora explore; I do not like being on my feet. I brew four cups of Maxwell House and check the mirror to make sure I look alive. Rise. Shine? Sleep. Repeat. Into the car and off to the sitter’s. She and I dance to pop songs on the radio. Upon the car’s pedals, I tap my feet. I drop her off and drive to work where I drop off hot plates to hungry guests. Rise. Shine. Sleep. Repeat. I pick her up, go home, and cook dinner; then bath time, bed time, homework. Will I ever feel stable on my feet? Rise. Shine. Sleep. Repeat.
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Mar 17, 2011
Mar 17, 2011 at 9:00 PM UTC
Rise. Shine. Sleep. Repeat.
Ángel Falcó me trajo heroica talla de México, jardín de colorines y ella le da a mi casa serafines y está al paso de idilios y batalla. En su mano con lustre de azucena, mi Dora Isella Russell la condujo, hasta mi mano que no tiene lujo, pero que es , para amigos, talla buena. S anta María Guadalupe, fina: reinarás en mi casa con mi ama, S anta María del Socorro, dina de todo apego y toda exacta llama. Bajo esa doble ala tan divina, bordo confiada y calma, mi oriflama.
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909
Santa maría de guadalupe
I was born fast and moving in the back of a bus 8 ½ miles outside of New Orleans. I was not noticed until my ***** cries wafted to the front of the bus, heard by a 50-year-old transvestite named Is-he-dora trying to homestead in Kentucky. She put me her manicured under arm and carried me off.  You see, mom pulled up her ******* quick, smoothed out her cardigan, and popped a Quaalude before the driver could realize she climbed out of the emergency back exit.   My first drink was bourbon through a ****** I teethed raw leather, the heel of an old boot, and a mannequin who was named Dolly. She only wore red satin and peacock feathers. The gals only bathed her in sesame oil with almonds floating in the jar. She smelled of mom. My school was on the laps of the people in the back of racetrack stables. I take my learning fast paced with a side of jockey. I took to the streets half paved by the beats. Cassidy may have had the road, but I had the words. I was thrown out of every Mormon congregation south of the Mason-Dixon. I made it to New York in a bathtub in the base of a pick up truck for the purposes of shoplifting for fun and profit. I vogued my way through Harlem, and at night I slept with Dolly’s sister in the bedding section of bloomies. Here I am. Right in front of you. Can you see me? Can you smell me? Can you feel me?
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Feb 9, 2015
Feb 9, 2015 at 7:52 PM UTC
Burrough MeDeep
52 i love you 34 ***** boar 21 you are fun 83 you've seen me *** 45 let's do a jive 22 i miss you
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Jul 30, 2013
Jul 30, 2013 at 2:09 PM UTC
For Dora
And I left, got shipped off for who knows how long. I left most of home, all except Dora, and maybe the trees. And the moon never leaves me anyway. I was feeling as blue as the shadows of the night. The fluorescent shining down every twenty steps, I even miss the tungsten no matter how ugly it is. Walking empty to the store, I found myself as you do in another dimension. It’s too late to be here in reality. Wait... was that... oh weird. What are they doing here? And who is that?... She talked to me, and the others faded into maybe another aisle. We walked past bakery goods, We walked through the arts and crafts, We walked past the entrance, Talking the whole time. I knew you weren’t the one, You weren’t her, Maybe you were one of her? I don’t really know yet, but something keeps happening. You ran your hands along my arm and pulled me with you. As the end felt near, We looked at each other, and the hug sealed the connection that needed a stamp. We held our bodies to each other until the warmth filled us up. It still always fades... Goodbye. I don’t know what I’m going back to now...
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Oct 20, 2019
Oct 20, 2019 at 5:57 PM UTC
Fort Georgia
Love to many Is so many things Right now To me It's watching my Sweet baby Kitties Dora and Raven Sleep They are curled Up & comfy Warm and Snugly I'll always Be their Protective Mama & they Love Unconditionally
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Feb 28, 2019
Feb 28, 2019 at 11:05 PM UTC
Mama Cat