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"dorthy" poems
They call it crude. The dessicated then carboxilated, carbonified, ****** of dead Permian flesh. This is the reason the salamanders die. Corporeal concreted, mummified, fossilized. This is the reason we dance. Dirges of West Texas dirt romances. Lost in the flares, Caught in the gases blaring making nostrils glare. Requiescat in pace. All these women. Dancing through the caliche, Giving a reason to taste the air. Through one breath of speechless. The loam is never settled where boots tread and weather. Destroying bedrock through hydrolic fracking to the earths core. I land my toes in the sand of the Llano. I taste my Mexicans, greasy, with cheese, With. Hot. Sauce. Dorthy never went to the fest of Oil. But there's no place like home. Her silver slippers or prosthesis feet placed instantaneously upon me. Would bring me directly into a thorny, Patch of Mesquite.
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Apr 14, 2013
Apr 14, 2013 at 12:49 AM UTC
Oil Town Blue ***** for Uncircumsized Women
I'm truly blessed to be counted amongst the trooping pilgrims walking dusty roads, negotiating rocky Himalayan trails on the way to the mountain top. Together as brothers and sisters, we traverse precarious paths, strengthening each other, bucking up, getting a second wind to make that final push to scale the most jagged boulders that lie nearest the peaks. I'm heartened to see Dorothy Day, Mahatmas Gandhi, The Dali Llama, Nelson Mandela and Johnny Cash, trooping along side me; keeping me in step as we press on to the promised land. If I get hungry, Dorthy will serve me soup to feed my spirit. If I get lonely, Mahatmas will muster up a posse, freely welling from salt of the earth to walk with me. If I take a wrong turn, The Dali Llama's smiling eyes and sage advise will get my feet back on the right path. On this tiresome journey if my will begins to falter and my commitment wanes, Nelson will remind me to endure the trial with the grace of fortitude. And if we enter dangerous canyons, filled with the cacophony of boisterous hate, The Man in Black will strum his guitar to quell the angry noise and fill our hearts with loving harmony. We're on our way to Freedom's Land and some believe we're almost there. We can see Martin looking over those last jagged ledges, he's got a prayer of encouragement on his lips, and he's waving Mrs. Liberty's torch, showing us the way, guiding us home. Music Selection: Sweet Honey on the Rock: Ain't Gonna Let Nobody Turn Me Around MLK Jr. Day 1/16/12 Oakland jbm
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Jan 16, 2012
Jan 16, 2012 at 11:55 AM UTC
Mountaintops
I'm truly blessed to be counted amongst the trooping pilgrims walking dusty roads, negotiating rocky Himalayan trails on the way to the mountain top. Together as brothers and sisters, we traverse precarious paths, strengthening each other, bucking up, getting a second wind to make that final push to scale the most jagged boulders that lie nearest the peaks. I'm heartened to see Dorothy Day, Mahatmas Gandhi, The Dali Llama, Nelson Mandela and Johnny Cash, trooping along side me; keeping me in step as we press on to the promised land. If I get hungry, Dorthy will serve me soup to feed my spirit. If I get lonely, Mahatmas will muster up a posse, freely welling from salt of the earth to walk with me. If I take a wrong turn, The Dali Llama's smiling eyes and sage advise will get my feet back on the right path. On this tiresome journey if my will begins to falter and my commitment wanes, Nelson will remind me to endure the trial with the grace of fortitude. And if we enter dangerous canyons, filled with the cacophony of boisterous hate, The Man in Black will strum his guitar to quell the angry noise and fill our hearts with loving harmony. We're on our way to Freedom's Land and some believe we're almost there. We can see Martin looking over those last jagged ledges, he's got a prayer of encouragement on his lips, and he's waving Mrs. Liberty's torch, showing us the way, guiding us home. Music Selection: Sweet Honey on the Rock: Ain't Gonna Let Nobody Turn Me Around MLK Jr. Day 1/16/12 Oakland jbm
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101
8yrs young lo0000nnnnnnnnggggggggg thick  shiny  blue  black  hair Air Force Papa wanted a Wash N Wear He wanted mija* with Dorthy Hamill hair So I was ordered to March down the street to Emilias Holy Carport Emilia La Bautista Mexicana* She knew no english but she knew Jesus She'd cut your hair and save your soul That day i requested un "Dori Hamel" Cut She smiled and charismaticly said Amen! Te vas a ver muy bonita* Her holy * tijeras snipped my hair glided to the cement floor like feathers off angels wings She made me look right she made me look left and when i looked up... I HAD A MULLET my tears came down because of my Dukes of Hazzard crown and I marched home to Dixie
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Feb 4, 2011
Feb 4, 2011 at 7:32 PM UTC
My Crowning Glory
Who could have known Or ever proposed That Kansas farm girl Would land back in Oz Who could have guessed All this no less From that moment on Would be such a mess All because Dorthy Went High Royalty Ever since those ruby reds She's had a need for the bling Now she likes to buy Everything in her sight With Munchkins for servants Who serve her outright Then came the day She ran out of dough And the Lollipop Guild Mentioned the road Where few have been told And even less know That the Yellow Brick Road Is really made out of gold That's the happiest she's been Since she arrived As the shimmer and glimmer Cha-Chinged in her eyes She called her three friends Clueing them in The Lion, the Scarecrow And of course the Tin Man As a matter of fact Tin Man bring your ax I have just the job For you to get down with that That's now where we are I am sad to report The Yellow Brick Road Is now nothing but dirt But sweet Dorthy dear Has plenty of stuff Though she still has her eyes On the emeralds of Oz
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Nov 3, 2016
Nov 3, 2016 at 9:20 PM UTC
Goodbye Yellow Brick Road
My friends are my family. The are honest to me when I need to hear words I feel I cannot bear to hear. I am set strait and get back moving forward on my road.. Hearts feeling proud to see me succeed. Always warning me of obstacles ahead which I sometimes fail to heed. Telling me to stay out of self pity..!" Pushing me further up the ladder when I obtain frozen heals. Looking down the ladder, they are always there climbing ,with me close behind. Spirits cheering me on when I am doing well. Like Rocky's Coach after Rocky Became His Best Friend's lost soul's son's mentor. They yell the words that I truly needed to hear, after a knock out jab, from a glove, to get "Back up!" Always telling me "You are an attractive younger man" "Who needs to clear the mind that needs to stop thinking through ,'The Looking glass.." This "Dorthy Gale" still cries for my "Aunt Emmye." Because my friends love me for the person that I am. I return their acts and kind deeds (as they need me in their "Corner of Life's Ring...") I'm their "Rocky" Who cheers "Mohammad" to their victory in their corner of their ring. Now, together, a song in each one of our connected souls, our hearts do sing. "Forever through war, hunger,pain, , and ill health" "Through the easy times, wealthy moments, and easier moments, and blinding and shining victories of such..." "The need to exist "to and for each other..." "A well knit family of sisters and brothers."
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Jun 11, 2016
Jun 11, 2016 at 12:24 AM UTC
Truer Friendship in Life
For a moment all I see is a broken little boy that grew up without a dad. I want to tell him it's not his fault. I want to tell him that dads are overrated. We can share mine if you'd like. But before I can slip behind the curtain that keeps your true self hidden from the world you put up caution tape and say it's off limits. As if I don't already know you're not the great and powerful Oz. I don't care. Because I'm not Dorthy.
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Sep 7, 2013
Sep 7, 2013 at 3:47 PM UTC
I Wasn't Expecting a Wizard.
Masks are faces in which people hide their fear, pain, and heart. In fears and pain most of us are dramatic play-writes Finishing a Shakespearean drama with laughter masking the tears of pain as we struggle, in life, with it's beasts of torment...With our sword of strength we use in the fights. The ****** after being the remains of our broken souls Upon finding that trustworthy partner, in life, friend or lover... We show our true faces and bear all. Together... Sharing the burdens, laughter, pains, and drama that comes from being "Cast into our drama and our life's stages.." We, in turn, start writing our life's memoirs, together. Happy to bear the wages... Sometimes lost to the battles won after our "Play Bill" is filled as with each act in our "Scripts." Our families... We are made up of fellow play writes who can, in front of such people, take off our masks and allow the illusions in which we have created, to dissipate and clear like smog... We can allow our hair to fall down...Like "Rapunzel..." and leave our "Protective sheltered towers" and bear life's played out tragedies, together. As friends and people in relations of sharing equal support and interest in roaming where our "act" tours.... We remain true and bonded, together, as such beautiful sights are to be taken in.... We skip down the remained of "The Yellow Bricked Road" as we finally reached the "Emerald City.." as we passed through the acres of colorful flowers. Alike Dorthy and her new found friends.... We enjoy the journies, in one another's existances and roles in our plays of life, retiring only when our souls also reach their true found ends.
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Oct 10, 2016
Oct 10, 2016 at 12:57 AM UTC
As Actors In A Traveling Play
Masks are faces in which people hide their fear, pain, and heart. In fears and pain most of us are dramatic play-writes Finishing a Shakespearean drama with laughter masking the tears of pain as we struggle, in life, with it's beasts of torment...With our sword of strength we use in the fights. The ****** after being the remains of our broken souls Upon finding that trustworthy partner, in life, friend or lover... We show our true faces and bear all. Together... Sharing the burdens, laughter, pains, and drama that comes from being "Cast into our drama and our life's stages.." We, in turn, start writing our life's memoirs, together. Happy to bear the wages... Sometimes lost to the battles won after our "Play Bill" is filled as with each act in our "Scripts." Our families... We are made up of fellow play writes who can, in front of such people, take off our masks and allow the illusions in which we have created, to dissipate and clear like smog... We can allow our hair to fall down...Like "Rapunzel..." and leave our "Protective sheltered towers" and bear life's played out tragedies, together. As friends and people in relations of sharing equal support and interest in roaming where our "act" tours.... We remain true and bonded, together, as such beautiful sights are to be taken in.... We skip down the remained of "The Yellow Bricked Road" as we finally reached the "Emerald City.." as we passed through the acres of colorful flowers. Alike Dorthy and her new found friends.... We enjoy the journies, in one another's existances and roles in our plays of life, retiring only when our souls also reach their true found ends.
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25
I have a serious crush on Dorthy While she has a Kansas crush on them The Lion and the Scarecrow Not to mention the Tin Man The only time you see her These days is when She's skipping about town with those three clowns Her not so ordinary new friends She says that they all met Somewhere over the rainbow While she met me over coffee Wouldn't you know that's the way it goes It's hard for me to compete With anything like that Though one is brainless, one is heartless The other a scaredy cat She says they show her adventure Where the only thing that I Can really show her is Kansas And its vast empty sky line The few times that Dorthy And I have ever had a chance to go out The magical land of Oz Is all she wants to talk about To me it seems like a dream And we all know how those are Not really very interesting If you don't play a part So I stand off at a distance Gaze on from a far While she along with those three Skip off with my heart Cause I have a serious crush on Dorthy While she has a big Kansas crush on them The Lion and the Scarecrow Not to mention the Tin Man Oh, and by the way Dorthy Those ruby reds that you have on Don't really go with Your Kansas city overalls
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Apr 18, 2015
Apr 18, 2015 at 7:30 AM UTC
Kansas Crush (Over the Rainbow)
My mommy has a black gun that she keeps in her black bag. she has it to protect us she tells us with a drag. Some times she takes it off and puts it on a high shelf. A place where a little person can't reach it a person like my self. Like Dorthy the only time she leaves it alone is when shes taking her bath. And sometimes I think "maybe i'll take it" while she thinks that  i'm doing my math. I'll introduce it to my temple and then i'll release it's wrath.
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Nov 5, 2016
Nov 5, 2016 at 1:15 PM UTC
My mommy has a gun
love, devotion a motion that can either build you up or break you down it can make you feel like a clown with your face painted and slab on with makeup to only one day break up and never make up it can make you feel worthless as they leave wordless shhhh, quite don't make a riot as they walk out that door leaving you all alone then they never have time to pick up a phone never questioning why they couldn't try to love you with all of their heart as you as you're sitting there torn apart thrown back into a world of pain and depression as they are sick with their obsession, not helping the recession with their overspending of the green that could help her children that could help one of her daughters that is still in school reading like a fool and trying to remain cool who doesn't know the meaning of the word love her only help is praying from above who cries out for her mom every night praying that she'll be here tonight so that everything can go back to normal and they will never be another quarrel then her mom will finally have a moral to find her way back home so she won't have to roam like Dorthy walking endlessly on that yellow brick road her head filled with a bunch of load missing her family like crazy and trying not to be lazy while everything is just getting hazy so I pray to the lord to save me then I can be mom's baby and act like a lady and nothing is gonna be shady while Momma is around so now we can all be found and not bound to the slave of the devil's hands, that travels lands to destroy lives and capture wives so they can cheat on their husbands without a care and come back to their evil lair while giving a glare to all who dare to take them on as little children draw with a crayon then go to sleep on a warm bed they can lay on dreaming that just one day in the middle of may that Mommy will just finally come home
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Mar 25, 2011
Mar 25, 2011 at 9:52 PM UTC
A Child's Prayer
love, devotion a motion that can either build you up or break you down it can make you feel like a clown with your face painted and slab on with makeup to only one day break up and never make up it can make you feel worthless as they leave wordless shhhh, quite don't make a riot as they walk out that door leaving you all alone then they never have time to pick up a phone never questioning why they couldn't try to love you with all of their heart as you as you're sitting there torn apart thrown back into a world of pain and depression as they are sick with their obsession, not helping the recession with their overspending of the green that could help her children that could help one of her daughters that is still in school reading like a fool and trying to remain cool who doesn't know the meaning of the word love her only help is praying from above who cries out for her mom every night praying that she'll be here tonight so that everything can go back to normal and they will never be another quarrel then her mom will finally have a moral to find her way back home so she won't have to roam like Dorthy walking endlessly on that yellow brick road her head filled with a bunch of load missing her family like crazy and trying not to be lazy while everything is just getting hazy so I pray to the lord to save me then I can be mom's baby and act like a lady and nothing is gonna be shady while Momma is around so now we can all be found and not bound to the slave of the devil's hands, that travels lands to destroy lives and capture wives so they can cheat on their husbands without a care and come back to their evil lair while giving a glare to all who dare to take them on as little children draw with a crayon then go to sleep on a warm bed they can lay on dreaming that just one day in the middle of may that Mommy will just finally come home
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40
Rosa, some heroes doesn't know hen they will becomes one. Malcolm, just by knowledge and wisdom you provoke others to think. Martin, simply by concentration you contributed to changing a nation. Charles Drew, some still within the medical profession to this very day owes you. Dinah Washington, what a difference a day makes? When you left a trailblazing path behind. The Ink Spots, long before others became vocally known. You once ruled that throne. Leona Horne, Dorthy Dandridge, Ruth Brown you left a massive history. When you go ahead and plant your heart upon your goal. God let's your greatness just flow.
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Feb 4, 2016
Feb 4, 2016 at 1:25 PM UTC
Legacy of Legacies of Black History
Why this day of all days Was the Wizard out of town When Dorthy and her three friends Decided to roll around They came in search of wisdom And asked for my advice My only hope in all of this Is that I steered them right To the Tin Man I told him That he already has a heart That it's made from pure gold And shines as bright as a star He may not always feel It beating inside of his chest But you can see in his love for others That it's in there none the less And the Cowardly Lion To him I kindly said It takes tons of courage these days To even get out of bed And when it is you fall and you will Pick yourself right back up That's the kind of courage That I'm speaking of Then came time for the Scarecrow Who felt the need for a brain So I told him that intelligence Does not always a brain make It might help solve some problems But does not always think If you want true wisdom Take that from off the street Then there was sweet Dorthy Who in truth felt all alone Needing herself a place That she could call a home I told her to have courage And follow through with her heart And if she truly thinks about it Home is right where you are My new friends they all thanked me And went along their merry way My only hope is I did a good enough job Of playing Wizard that day
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May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 7:58 AM UTC
The Wizard Of Mike
Lost in someone elses melodie going to the beat of their drum, like im stuck in their head awake and sound asleep. Wonderland on a cliff, Somewhere unknown in the back of my mind, yet I still might find home. Dorthy got her wish, Im still stuck flashing in a rave, an echoe in the mist. Im lost and im found. World shapeless, Well my minds round. Its like a dream, I feel like a fish, like a meteor burnt to crisp. What it may seem, Im lost in someone elses melodie The pain is taking over everything Its like a fantasy Exept its called reality...
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Mar 15, 2014
Mar 15, 2014 at 1:04 AM UTC
Fantasy Called Reality
Jack be nimble Jack be quick or Jack will meet a ****** off ***** Jack be dumb Jack be slow Jack the racist where a bullet should go Poison ivy makes haters itch let them scream from the spells of a witch Dorthy fooled Laura is sick TinMan has tantrums his anger is quick Jack be nimble Jack be quick I am no liberal you redneck hick
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Jan 30, 2019
Jan 30, 2019 at 1:56 AM UTC
Jack
Dorthy flew over the rainbow many times. Along the way, her and I met eye to eye. Viewing each other's memories through these visons Connected through eyes and spirit... We join forces and look for beautiful skies. Even Oz is full of it's storms and battle zones. As Dorthy returned the second trip over... The evil Queen tried to steal her head. However, Dorthy was smarter than that. She defeated insanity and with her head still ******* on She avoided someone stealing her unique and valuable vanity. Seeing these memories I see inside myself. Through countless times I almost lost my head. I almost lost myself in the fields of poppies I almost fell asleep. Still awake, I ran with Dorthy past these fields... Past the so-called beautiful and perfect city of Oz and we found our own sane paradise. In the uninviting mountains of high promises We climbed and endured to enter this beautiful place and paid our own price. Along the way we found others In our same dilemma. Instead of roaming to some insane guy posing like a wizard We became our own magic and traveled to our own lands of solutions. Now people come to us seeking the same as we once sought. However, we tell them to have a seat in paradise. Enjoying the same days and skies as me and Dorthy of Oz earned a stay within it's walls and the warmth and an ill-faded disease and condition once dubbed "undefinable Happiness" This perfect disease... We have now truly caught.
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Nov 9, 2017
Nov 9, 2017 at 8:02 PM UTC
Connections Over the Rainbow