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"ensure" poems
How do you do that? How can you make me smile with a simple act? From this moment, I begin to think But the way you make me feel is hard to explain You’re one of the many aspects that changed my life Coz’ you always make me happy And I want you to know, after all For the rest of it, that I’m very lucky You make me laugh, you make me smile You’re smart, you’re different that made my day to shine For all the nights that I shed tear I won’t worry anymore, for you- is finally here That summer cold times, I’m contented just being by your side All those feelings I just can’t hide You’re special to me And I hope you’re beginning to see I can’t describe how much I care But when you need me, I will ensure you that I’ll be there To wipe your tears when you’re sad To make you happy when you’re mad I never imagined how sweet this could be With emotion and desire that’s coming over me Now I’m trouble…. but in sweet, sweet trouble Because I could not happily escape this anymore I love the times when we chat and text And I don’t want to end those nights and wait for the next The things you do and no one else will do Results me on thinking of you When there is something in my mind Or weighs heavy in my heart You always seem to know what I want to say before I ever start You have your own special way Of making me feel valuable than I am What I want to say is You’re soft gentle smile, on me, truly understands I am truthfully fortunate my dear friend You have that personality to where I can learn You are in my dreams whether I’m awake or asleep While these emotions, for you, are going way too deep A best friend, to me, I gladly submit Giving my all, to you, I admit This feeling I feel for you is something totally new And I’m so glad, so so glad, that I met you.
0
Oct 8, 2015
Oct 8, 2015 at 8:04 AM UTC
I’m so glad, I met you
How do you do that? How can you make me smile with a simple act? From this moment, I begin to think But the way you make me feel is hard to explain You’re one of the many aspects that changed my life Coz’ you always make me happy And I want you to know, after all For the rest of it, that I’m very lucky You make me laugh, you make me smile You’re smart, you’re different that made my day to shine For all the nights that I shed tear I won’t worry anymore, for you- is finally here That summer cold times, I’m contented just being by your side All those feelings I just can’t hide You’re special to me And I hope you’re beginning to see I can’t describe how much I care But when you need me, I will ensure you that I’ll be there To wipe your tears when you’re sad To make you happy when you’re mad I never imagined how sweet this could be With emotion and desire that’s coming over me Now I’m trouble…. but in sweet, sweet trouble Because I could not happily escape this anymore I love the times when we chat and text And I don’t want to end those nights and wait for the next The things you do and no one else will do Results me on thinking of you When there is something in my mind Or weighs heavy in my heart You always seem to know what I want to say before I ever start You have your own special way Of making me feel valuable than I am What I want to say is You’re soft gentle smile, on me, truly understands I am truthfully fortunate my dear friend You have that personality to where I can learn You are in my dreams whether I’m awake or asleep While these emotions, for you, are going way too deep A best friend, to me, I gladly submit Giving my all, to you, I admit This feeling I feel for you is something totally new And I’m so glad, so so glad, that I met you.
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The stewardship of talent calls attention for everyone to discover their purpose on earth, knowing we are created with potentials waiting to be maximized. The stewardship of time calls attention for everyone to maximize their time on earth, knowing we are mandated to dominate and subdue the earth. Nothing is found except it is hidden, every one has a talent. Nothing is hidden except it is a secret, every person has a gift. Nothing is a secret except it is a treasure, every individual has a potential. Every one has a secret hidden treasure to be found, ln them lives unique talents waiting to be discovered; lf only they can discover their purpose on earth. Every person has a destined mission to accomplish, ln them lives voices waiting to be heard; lf only they can activate their gifts. Every individual has a solution to provide on earth, ln them lives great potentials waiting to be maximized; lf only they can exploit their potentials. How then can talents be discovered knowing that any talent wasted will be accounted for. How then can gifts be activated knowing that we are mandated by God to accomplish a purpose on earth. How then can potentials be maximized knowing that we are created to impact our generation. Let him that seek to discover and utilize his talents on earth consult God through prayers. Let him that seek to activate his gifts exploit God's given innate ability to man. Let him that seek to maximize his potentials on earth search the mind of God through the scriptures. Is there any reward for discovering and exploiting your talents? Is there any reward for activating your innate gifts? Is there any reward for maximizing your God given potentials? He that discovers and exploits his talents for God will receive the Masters reward. He that activates his innate gifts will be remembered forever. He that maximizes his potentials will leave an indelible footstep on earth. Hope you strive to be persistent and consistent in the stewardship of talent, knowing that much is required of you. Endeavour to be faithful and obedient in your stewardship of talent, knowing we all owe God the accountability of our talents. Ensure you exploit the discovery of your talents, activate your innate gifts and maximize your potentials effectively. Strive to discover your purpose on earth, Seek to activate your talents and gifts; and Strive to maximize your potentials. He that discovers and exploits his talents on earth, will leave an indelible footprint on the sands of time that will be remembered forever. He that activates his gifts on earth will impact the world and his generation. He that maximizes his potentials effectively, will engrave his names in the sands of time and seasons of the sky. Talent is a Mandate not a Delegate.
0
Sep 1, 2013
Sep 1, 2013 at 6:49 PM UTC
Stewardship Of Talent
The stewardship of talent calls attention for everyone to discover their purpose on earth, knowing we are created with potentials waiting to be maximized. The stewardship of time calls attention for everyone to maximize their time on earth, knowing we are mandated to dominate and subdue the earth. Nothing is found except it is hidden, every one has a talent. Nothing is hidden except it is a secret, every person has a gift. Nothing is a secret except it is a treasure, every individual has a potential. Every one has a secret hidden treasure to be found, ln them lives unique talents waiting to be discovered; lf only they can discover their purpose on earth. Every person has a destined mission to accomplish, ln them lives voices waiting to be heard; lf only they can activate their gifts. Every individual has a solution to provide on earth, ln them lives great potentials waiting to be maximized; lf only they can exploit their potentials. How then can talents be discovered knowing that any talent wasted will be accounted for. How then can gifts be activated knowing that we are mandated by God to accomplish a purpose on earth. How then can potentials be maximized knowing that we are created to impact our generation. Let him that seek to discover and utilize his talents on earth consult God through prayers. Let him that seek to activate his gifts exploit God's given innate ability to man. Let him that seek to maximize his potentials on earth search the mind of God through the scriptures. Is there any reward for discovering and exploiting your talents? Is there any reward for activating your innate gifts? Is there any reward for maximizing your God given potentials? He that discovers and exploits his talents for God will receive the Masters reward. He that activates his innate gifts will be remembered forever. He that maximizes his potentials will leave an indelible footstep on earth. Hope you strive to be persistent and consistent in the stewardship of talent, knowing that much is required of you. Endeavour to be faithful and obedient in your stewardship of talent, knowing we all owe God the accountability of our talents. Ensure you exploit the discovery of your talents, activate your innate gifts and maximize your potentials effectively. Strive to discover your purpose on earth, Seek to activate your talents and gifts; and Strive to maximize your potentials. He that discovers and exploits his talents on earth, will leave an indelible footprint on the sands of time that will be remembered forever. He that activates his gifts on earth will impact the world and his generation. He that maximizes his potentials effectively, will engrave his names in the sands of time and seasons of the sky. Talent is a Mandate not a Delegate.
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45
Already over the sea from her old spouse she comes, the blonde goddess whose frosty wheels bring day. Why do you hurry, Aurora? Hold off, so may the birds shed ritual blood each year for Memnon's shade. Now it's good to lie in my mistress's tender arms; if ever, now it's good to feel her near. Now drowsiness is richest, the morning air is cool, and birds sing shrilly from their tender throats. Why do you hurry, dreaded by men and dreaded by girls? Draw back your dewy reins with your crimson hand. The sailor marks the stars more clearly before you rise, not raoming aimlessly across the sea; the traveller, though weary, arises when you come, and the soldier sets his savage hand to arms; you're first to see the farmers wield their heavy hoes and to call slow oxen under the curving yoke; you rob boys of their sleep and give them over to schools, where tender hands must bear the savage switch; and you send reckless fools to pledge themselves in court, where they take ruinous losses through one word; the lawyer and the pleader take no delight in you, for each must rise and wrangle with new torts; and you ensure that women's chores are never done, calling the spinner's hands back to her wool. All this I'd bear; but who would bear that girls must rise at dawn, unless himself he has no girl? How many times I've wished Night would not yield to you, the stars not fade and flee before your face! How many times I've wished the wind would smash your wheels, your steeds would stumble on a cloud and fall! Jealous, why do you hurry? If your son is black, it's since his mother's heart is that same color. How I wish Tithonus could still tell tales of you: no goddess would be more disgraced in heaven. Since he is endless eons old, you rise and flee at dawn to the chariot the old man hates, but if some Cephalus were lying in your arms, you'd cry out, 'O run slowly, steeds of night! ' Why should this lover pay, if your husband withers with age? Was I the matchmaker who brought him to you? Remember how much sleep was given to her loved youth by Luna - and she's beautiful as you. The father of gods himself, to see you all the less, joined two nights into one for his desires. I'd finished my complaint. You could tell she'd heard: she blushed; and yet the day rose at its usual time.
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10.1k
Morning
Already over the sea from her old spouse she comes, the blonde goddess whose frosty wheels bring day. Why do you hurry, Aurora? Hold off, so may the birds shed ritual blood each year for Memnon's shade. Now it's good to lie in my mistress's tender arms; if ever, now it's good to feel her near. Now drowsiness is richest, the morning air is cool, and birds sing shrilly from their tender throats. Why do you hurry, dreaded by men and dreaded by girls? Draw back your dewy reins with your crimson hand. The sailor marks the stars more clearly before you rise, not raoming aimlessly across the sea; the traveller, though weary, arises when you come, and the soldier sets his savage hand to arms; you're first to see the farmers wield their heavy hoes and to call slow oxen under the curving yoke; you rob boys of their sleep and give them over to schools, where tender hands must bear the savage switch; and you send reckless fools to pledge themselves in court, where they take ruinous losses through one word; the lawyer and the pleader take no delight in you, for each must rise and wrangle with new torts; and you ensure that women's chores are never done, calling the spinner's hands back to her wool. All this I'd bear; but who would bear that girls must rise at dawn, unless himself he has no girl? How many times I've wished Night would not yield to you, the stars not fade and flee before your face! How many times I've wished the wind would smash your wheels, your steeds would stumble on a cloud and fall! Jealous, why do you hurry? If your son is black, it's since his mother's heart is that same color. How I wish Tithonus could still tell tales of you: no goddess would be more disgraced in heaven. Since he is endless eons old, you rise and flee at dawn to the chariot the old man hates, but if some Cephalus were lying in your arms, you'd cry out, 'O run slowly, steeds of night! ' Why should this lover pay, if your husband withers with age? Was I the matchmaker who brought him to you? Remember how much sleep was given to her loved youth by Luna - and she's beautiful as you. The father of gods himself, to see you all the less, joined two nights into one for his desires. I'd finished my complaint. You could tell she'd heard: she blushed; and yet the day rose at its usual time.
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46
So ….. Who Are The ... ... " Good Guys " ... ? In These Modern Times ... ? Osama … Obama ... ? ? Or Those … Civil Type Guardia ... ? What ... Makes Them Good ... ? The Guns They Use ... As If They ... Should …. To RESTRAIN and ... Defuse ... VIOLENT … Neighbourhoods … !?! But REALLY … Is This ... What They Do … ?!? I've Heard Stories ... That … Relay TRUTH ... About The ABUSE ... Some Guardia … Choose … !!! Like … STRIPPING Men … In … Spanish Streets ... To ... Prove To Them …. The ... Kinda PROBLEMS ... They're ... BOUND To See ... If They ... DON'T Respect ... The ... " Gendarmerie " … !!!!! Good Guys ….. !!!?!!! REALLY … ?!? Or Employed … BULLIES ... !?! The Type Who ... FEED ... of … "ABUSE FILLED Deeds" … !!! The Type That Make ... Young People … BLEED … !!! When ... Guns They … PARADE … Aren't Used … " Properly " … Kind of Like …. " NEWTOWN " …. Where It's CLEAR … Gun Sounds ... Will Now … RESOUND ... In The ... Hearts and Mouths ... of ... Parents Now … Resound With … " LOSS " … !!!!! Cos' A ... LOVED One's Gone … !!!!! WITHOUT A …. Song …. Or Farewell ... "Prolonged" ... So …. ??? What Was The Mantra ... ? of … Adam Lanza ... ? To Shoot REPEATEDLY ... In A ... KILLING SPREE … That Took … SO MANY … !!!!! Was His Mind So HEAVY ... ?!? That His Thoughts … CLEARLY … Had Become … "UNstEAdy" … !!! So … Where Were Connecticut's ... GOOD GUYS … Then … ? With The ... " NRA " ... !?! At A ... Shooting Range … ??? Shooting Guns For … "FUN" … !!! While The Blood of A MUM ... And Youngsters ..... RUN ..................................... Down SCHOOL Hallways ... In The … Middle of The Day ... !?! Now The NRA Says … "Bad Guys with guns, need to face, good ones !" Okay Okay ... But Let's ... Get This Straight … !!! It's ... OKAY For A Man ... Whose Been Paid and Trained ... To ... SHOOT TO **** ... Pretty Much AT WILL ... Cos' It's Been … " Okayed " … By The …. " NRA " …. !?! Who Said ... They Were Good … !!!???!!! I Learnt My Lesson ... Watching … Charlton Heston ... !!! It Would ... Seem To Me ... That ... NRA Peeps … Care ... MORE For ... MONEY ... Than When … Children BLEED … !!?!! It's ... ALL About GREED … !!! Cos' ... Good GUYS ... DON'T NEED ... To Have … " ARMOURIES " ... !!! To ENSURE The Streets ... Are Filled With … "PEACE" ... and I … For One ... DON'T Believe That Guns ... Have … ANY Function … In …. Education …. !!!!!! Educate Our Youth ….. !!! About The ... HARM They Cause ... !!!!!!! They NEED To Be Schooled ... In ….... AVOIDING Wars ............ !!!!!! And In ... Avoiding Depression … That Leads To HARSH Lessons ... !!!!! It Time To STRENGTHEN ... !!! Our Fight Against ... Guns ... And Time To … " LESSEN " … !!! " NRA " ... Type Funds ... !!!!! That SUPPORT … " The Lie " of ….. " Preservation of life " … Through The Use of … ………. GUNS ………… Seeing Blood ... Run … DOESN'T ... Signify FUN … !!!!! NEITHER Does ... ... The Sight ... of Police In Schools ... With A Gun By Their Side … !!! They Weren't In View … When I Was ... Being Schooled … !!! So FOLKS … DON'T BE ... Fooled ... !!! By ... Lobbyist Groups … !!!!! When It Comes To ... ... "Who is Who" … Who Are THEY To Decide … !???! When It Comes To ... Peoples' Lives ... Who The People Should Believe ..... To Be ………………………… ... "The Good Guys !!!" ...
0
Sep 12, 2014
Sep 12, 2014 at 5:03 PM UTC
"The Good Guys" ... A Poem written by Big Virge 22/12/2012
So ….. Who Are The ... ... " Good Guys " ... ? In These Modern Times ... ? Osama … Obama ... ? ? Or Those … Civil Type Guardia ... ? What ... Makes Them Good ... ? The Guns They Use ... As If They ... Should …. To RESTRAIN and ... Defuse ... VIOLENT … Neighbourhoods … !?! But REALLY … Is This ... What They Do … ?!? I've Heard Stories ... That … Relay TRUTH ... About The ABUSE ... Some Guardia … Choose … !!! Like … STRIPPING Men … In … Spanish Streets ... To ... Prove To Them …. The ... Kinda PROBLEMS ... They're ... BOUND To See ... If They ... DON'T Respect ... The ... " Gendarmerie " … !!!!! Good Guys ….. !!!?!!! REALLY … ?!? Or Employed … BULLIES ... !?! The Type Who ... FEED ... of … "ABUSE FILLED Deeds" … !!! The Type That Make ... Young People … BLEED … !!! When ... Guns They … PARADE … Aren't Used … " Properly " … Kind of Like …. " NEWTOWN " …. Where It's CLEAR … Gun Sounds ... Will Now … RESOUND ... In The ... Hearts and Mouths ... of ... Parents Now … Resound With … " LOSS " … !!!!! Cos' A ... LOVED One's Gone … !!!!! WITHOUT A …. Song …. Or Farewell ... "Prolonged" ... So …. ??? What Was The Mantra ... ? of … Adam Lanza ... ? To Shoot REPEATEDLY ... In A ... KILLING SPREE … That Took … SO MANY … !!!!! Was His Mind So HEAVY ... ?!? That His Thoughts … CLEARLY … Had Become … "UNstEAdy" … !!! So … Where Were Connecticut's ... GOOD GUYS … Then … ? With The ... " NRA " ... !?! At A ... Shooting Range … ??? Shooting Guns For … "FUN" … !!! While The Blood of A MUM ... And Youngsters ..... RUN ..................................... Down SCHOOL Hallways ... In The … Middle of The Day ... !?! Now The NRA Says … "Bad Guys with guns, need to face, good ones !" Okay Okay ... But Let's ... Get This Straight … !!! It's ... OKAY For A Man ... Whose Been Paid and Trained ... To ... SHOOT TO **** ... Pretty Much AT WILL ... Cos' It's Been … " Okayed " … By The …. " NRA " …. !?! Who Said ... They Were Good … !!!???!!! I Learnt My Lesson ... Watching … Charlton Heston ... !!! It Would ... Seem To Me ... That ... NRA Peeps … Care ... MORE For ... MONEY ... Than When … Children BLEED … !!?!! It's ... ALL About GREED … !!! Cos' ... Good GUYS ... DON'T NEED ... To Have … " ARMOURIES " ... !!! To ENSURE The Streets ... Are Filled With … "PEACE" ... and I … For One ... DON'T Believe That Guns ... Have … ANY Function … In …. Education …. !!!!!! Educate Our Youth ….. !!! About The ... HARM They Cause ... !!!!!!! They NEED To Be Schooled ... In ….... AVOIDING Wars ............ !!!!!! And In ... Avoiding Depression … That Leads To HARSH Lessons ... !!!!! It Time To STRENGTHEN ... !!! Our Fight Against ... Guns ... And Time To … " LESSEN " … !!! " NRA " ... Type Funds ... !!!!! That SUPPORT … " The Lie " of ….. " Preservation of life " … Through The Use of … ………. GUNS ………… Seeing Blood ... Run … DOESN'T ... Signify FUN … !!!!! NEITHER Does ... ... The Sight ... of Police In Schools ... With A Gun By Their Side … !!! They Weren't In View … When I Was ... Being Schooled … !!! So FOLKS … DON'T BE ... Fooled ... !!! By ... Lobbyist Groups … !!!!! When It Comes To ... ... "Who is Who" … Who Are THEY To Decide … !???! When It Comes To ... Peoples' Lives ... Who The People Should Believe ..... To Be ………………………… ... "The Good Guys !!!" ...
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183
I trust in God and myself To keep me safe and sound Nothing else do I count on To keep me unbound In order to ensure That something is done my way I had best do it myself Or nothing should I say If it is at all important And means everything to me I’m the one responsible To make sure that it’s achieved So many of us expect To get something for free I believe everything should be worked for And not just handed right to me
0
Apr 5, 2010
Apr 5, 2010 at 2:11 AM UTC
Responsibility
Soft petals opening on a flower. Showing the shy and delicate flesh between the folds. Displaying true femininity. Graciously accepting the honeybees return to ensure that there will always be life to enjoy. Mutual respect must be present as neither the flower nor honeybee alone can create new life.
0
Aug 7, 2016
Aug 7, 2016 at 3:24 AM UTC
California Poppy
Are you aware, did you know, have you been told you've got killer voice, leaving me no choice but preemptive action... Let's ensure mutual destruction of clothes; my thoughts made those illegal in a secret meeting; that security council in my head... while the heart was busy beating, doing its own thing... Captives in my cells twisted and bled out their escape plans... Excuse me, got sidetracked, what's your name again? I'm twenty-three but only if you switch the digits. For a high-functioning whatever, I must say I'm admirably sane but you pull the wrong lever, and the lyrics spill with the melody breaking the levee. So what do you do for a living? That's adorable. How are we still sitting and talking here? You thought I'd be taller; I was expecting you'd run off screaming. Let's drink to that, the small victories! Time will tell what's next if only we listen, instead of reading more text, unless we're OK with missing out. God, my thoughts do talk loud! When did your face get so near? Lips go "clink", and eyes go "Cheers!"
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Feb 2, 2017
Feb 2, 2017 at 10:19 AM UTC
The Joker's Pickup Lines (or Something)
A fashion designer has defended models who were labelled as "gaunt and unwell" on Facebook. Andrea Moore's I AM range is sold at Farmers, and an image from its current campaign was posted on that company's Facebook page on Friday. The picture features Chiara and Norina Gasteiger, who are twins represented by Clyne Model Management. Farmers customers did not react well to the now-deleted post. "They so look gaunt and unwell. I'm really disappointed," Newshub says Anna Webster commented. "You cannot look at these girls with their bones sticking out and believe that they are a good role model for a family store," Jo Austwick wrote. "I have enough trouble with body image arguments with my daughters without these images being depicted. They do not look healthy." Moore said the imagery had never been intended to cause offence, and that she felt for the Gasteiger twins, who have worked with the brand for three years. "The twins are actually healthy, fun models who are busy university students... We love working with them because of their sense of self-worth and uniqueness as twins," she said. "We have been in touch with the models and they were most upset by the whole thing. Fortunately, they have received a lot of support from their peers. "The campaign was about preppy grunge, print with an edge. [It was not] about promoting unhealthy body types [or] anything else," Moore added. Farmers posted the following statement on Facebook after deleting the I AM image: "Dear valued Farmers customers! We appreciate you taking the time to send us your comments and concerns on a recent post for I AM. Please know it is not taken lightly and we in no way mean to promote an image for women in NZ to follow that could be regarded as unhealthy. "We understand that no two bodies are the same and we always seek to show a range of body types throughout all our advertising. These images were supplied by the brand Andrea Moore as part of a wider campaign and were published by us. We will endeavour going forward to work closely with all our partners to ensure an appropriate image is portrayed. "Thank you once again for your valued feedback." Clyne Model Management have been approached for comment.Read more at:http://www.marieaustralia.com/cocktail-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/one-shoulder-formal-dresses
0
Sep 5, 2016
Sep 5, 2016 at 10:30 PM UTC
Designer Andrea Moore defends models called 'gaunt and unwell'
A fashion designer has defended models who were labelled as "gaunt and unwell" on Facebook. Andrea Moore's I AM range is sold at Farmers, and an image from its current campaign was posted on that company's Facebook page on Friday. The picture features Chiara and Norina Gasteiger, who are twins represented by Clyne Model Management. Farmers customers did not react well to the now-deleted post. "They so look gaunt and unwell. I'm really disappointed," Newshub says Anna Webster commented. "You cannot look at these girls with their bones sticking out and believe that they are a good role model for a family store," Jo Austwick wrote. "I have enough trouble with body image arguments with my daughters without these images being depicted. They do not look healthy." Moore said the imagery had never been intended to cause offence, and that she felt for the Gasteiger twins, who have worked with the brand for three years. "The twins are actually healthy, fun models who are busy university students... We love working with them because of their sense of self-worth and uniqueness as twins," she said. "We have been in touch with the models and they were most upset by the whole thing. Fortunately, they have received a lot of support from their peers. "The campaign was about preppy grunge, print with an edge. [It was not] about promoting unhealthy body types [or] anything else," Moore added. Farmers posted the following statement on Facebook after deleting the I AM image: "Dear valued Farmers customers! We appreciate you taking the time to send us your comments and concerns on a recent post for I AM. Please know it is not taken lightly and we in no way mean to promote an image for women in NZ to follow that could be regarded as unhealthy. "We understand that no two bodies are the same and we always seek to show a range of body types throughout all our advertising. These images were supplied by the brand Andrea Moore as part of a wider campaign and were published by us. We will endeavour going forward to work closely with all our partners to ensure an appropriate image is portrayed. "Thank you once again for your valued feedback." Clyne Model Management have been approached for comment.Read more at:http://www.marieaustralia.com/cocktail-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/one-shoulder-formal-dresses
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15
When the petals all fall, You will hear the call. The howl to save the day. The game which you must play. Dangerous rules there are. The solution seems so far. So determined you must be, To be the one to see, The way to end it all. The route is not so small. Perseverance you shall need. Not love, hate, or greed. To ensure the well being of all people. Every church to every steeple. Don't ever give up the cause. Don't ever stop or pause. Because you know that if you do, This game you will surely lose.
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Jun 12, 2016
Jun 12, 2016 at 2:43 AM UTC
The Most Dangerous Game
Gather in a dark night, impurities of the mind caused by poisonous emotions from loss and envy, of spite or jealousy, forming misery. Love fades, ahh once so innocently precious, yet fragile in structure, Leaving the servants of it in great despair and even darker hate, Where affection ruled supreme once the scars of misery are causing a heartache from leftover rampage, a riot now presented. Ah, phantoms Swaying back and forth between sadness and anger one gets lost in his own blindness, destroying and bringing himself into ruins, This lingering sadness seems eternal as time passes painfully slower, An enlighting realisation should do the task and let the soul lost inanihilating, irritational despair grow once again strong and happy, A spark illuminating the dark, with patience and hope for the future, But until this event is taking place, a personal hell is what has to be crossed alike a bridge made of anxiety, depression and self doubt. But worry not all you lost souls who are waiting for light! After all, every winter and every night find their end and ensure the dawn of a blooming spring dream. ~ Umi
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Mar 15, 2018
Mar 15, 2018 at 6:25 PM UTC
Misery
As a uniform, he always wore the grey ironmonger's coat immaculately pressed and bore clipped hair neat as well as a close shave. Mr. Cornthwaite (all of us minions called him only Mr.) was no "Do It 'Cos I Say So" boss but with patience would teach and preach retail folklore: Cooks' staples stored well inside our mini-market shop advanced for its 50s' existence; shelf-stacking to re-arrange for early use-by at the front; fast-moving lines checked hourly if not sooner; trusted staff becoming the Tasting Squad for new fresh produce being considered for supply - The Cornflake (never uttered in his hearing) circulating to ensure not only that his ever-clear commands were reflected in full shelves but also that staff were coping not rushed or overwhelmed. The best Warrant Officer cares just as much commands as my de-mobbed Warrant Officer father used to tell me when I asked. (c) C J Heyworth
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May 21, 2014
May 21, 2014 at 7:49 AM UTC
Thank You Stanley Cornflake
Emerging economies. What they’re emerging from I don’t know. My guess, the depths of hell. From the frying pan, right into the fire, or worse; a well. A deep hole stronger than gravity, the force. To be forever under the thumb of remorse. A modern era of endless acts, policies and bla bla bla. Shut up with all your platitudes. I see what’s really going on. Aha! You speak of sustainable development. Nice to know that you’ve led by example. Carried the mantle for all these years. Centuries of ruthlessness, now veiled in sheep’s clothing. But you won’t shut up. Because you don’t speak. You never have. You just do. Each day that goes by, you carry on anew. Behind all the talk of hope, equality and more progress, it seems the wolves are lurking. Cooking up the next tool to subdue countless. This time, not behind closed doors. But in plain sight. It’s scary to imagine such spite. Each year that goes by it becomes clearer that you never cared. You sold guns, drugs and all kinds of war. And each time, you kept coming back for more. You’ve built up antibodies that ensure your survival. But sometimes I wonder if you’re alive at all. But what do I know? Maybe you’re more alive than ever. Doing what you do best but always more clever. That not even the most stable of geniuses can evade your pressure. A strong enough foundation that each break makes you stronger, So strong that not even the Gremlin can take you under.   Against this dreary background, foregrounded is nothing short of magical. Beyond hope, prayers or a thoughtless radical. Or maybe this is all just fake outrage. An attempt to evade the boredom of this endless monotony and baggage. Or maybe, the term is out of date. Like every other, that makes me increasingly more irate. In which case, this poem is at least ten years late. Or maybe there are too many maybes’. And I’m perfectly suited for this time of vague uneasiness and indifference. In which case, my imagination probably needs more sociology and less a lesson in rhymes.
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Oct 14, 2018
Oct 14, 2018 at 1:44 PM UTC
"Emerging Economies"
Emerging economies. What they’re emerging from I don’t know. My guess, the depths of hell. From the frying pan, right into the fire, or worse; a well. A deep hole stronger than gravity, the force. To be forever under the thumb of remorse. A modern era of endless acts, policies and bla bla bla. Shut up with all your platitudes. I see what’s really going on. Aha! You speak of sustainable development. Nice to know that you’ve led by example. Carried the mantle for all these years. Centuries of ruthlessness, now veiled in sheep’s clothing. But you won’t shut up. Because you don’t speak. You never have. You just do. Each day that goes by, you carry on anew. Behind all the talk of hope, equality and more progress, it seems the wolves are lurking. Cooking up the next tool to subdue countless. This time, not behind closed doors. But in plain sight. It’s scary to imagine such spite. Each year that goes by it becomes clearer that you never cared. You sold guns, drugs and all kinds of war. And each time, you kept coming back for more. You’ve built up antibodies that ensure your survival. But sometimes I wonder if you’re alive at all. But what do I know? Maybe you’re more alive than ever. Doing what you do best but always more clever. That not even the most stable of geniuses can evade your pressure. A strong enough foundation that each break makes you stronger, So strong that not even the Gremlin can take you under.   Against this dreary background, foregrounded is nothing short of magical. Beyond hope, prayers or a thoughtless radical. Or maybe this is all just fake outrage. An attempt to evade the boredom of this endless monotony and baggage. Or maybe, the term is out of date. Like every other, that makes me increasingly more irate. In which case, this poem is at least ten years late. Or maybe there are too many maybes’. And I’m perfectly suited for this time of vague uneasiness and indifference. In which case, my imagination probably needs more sociology and less a lesson in rhymes.
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42
What do you want from me? I ask my memories, Wondering why they’ve come out to play, Tap dancing across the wood floors of me mind, Creating a cacophony that echoes off my skull. What do you want from me? I hear them when they respond, “We’re trying to make you safe.” I know they’re attempting to prevent tumbling off the same rocks, Trying to ensure I don’t crack bones on the same hard places. They are telling me to avoid having pieces of me stolen again. I couldn’t protect myself at thirteen or sixteen, So I stumbled down the same dark alleys until I was 18 And paid a grander price in an even darker cave at 19. I’m 22 now, and I’m still picking up the pieces out of the mouths of men, Men who cut me down until I was a conglomerate of bite size, fuckable pieces. I was taught not to scream when my pieces were being consumed. Who needs to be a whole human anyway? If tip money went into my pocket, If he told me he loved me afterwards, If I was alive to see the morning light, Who was I to complain? And when I stopped wanting to see the sun rise, They gazed upon my pieces And berated me for the wreckage. What do you want from me? Is a question I only know how to ask myself. I have never dared ask those who stole from me Whether they came to me in good faith, Never had the wisdom to lock up what was valuable. I have never demanded of anyone what their intentions were, So I ask again: What do you want from me? What am I expected to provide? Am I allowed to be a whole human here? Or will you require I be bite size again? I am desperate to be safe in the same flesh that once enticed those who hunted me. What do you want from me? I’ll tell you what I want. I want to go home whole, Knowing my skin is all mine.
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May 10, 2022
May 10, 2022 at 12:50 PM UTC
What Do You Want from Me?
What do you want from me? I ask my memories, Wondering why they’ve come out to play, Tap dancing across the wood floors of me mind, Creating a cacophony that echoes off my skull. What do you want from me? I hear them when they respond, “We’re trying to make you safe.” I know they’re attempting to prevent tumbling off the same rocks, Trying to ensure I don’t crack bones on the same hard places. They are telling me to avoid having pieces of me stolen again. I couldn’t protect myself at thirteen or sixteen, So I stumbled down the same dark alleys until I was 18 And paid a grander price in an even darker cave at 19. I’m 22 now, and I’m still picking up the pieces out of the mouths of men, Men who cut me down until I was a conglomerate of bite size, fuckable pieces. I was taught not to scream when my pieces were being consumed. Who needs to be a whole human anyway? If tip money went into my pocket, If he told me he loved me afterwards, If I was alive to see the morning light, Who was I to complain? And when I stopped wanting to see the sun rise, They gazed upon my pieces And berated me for the wreckage. What do you want from me? Is a question I only know how to ask myself. I have never dared ask those who stole from me Whether they came to me in good faith, Never had the wisdom to lock up what was valuable. I have never demanded of anyone what their intentions were, So I ask again: What do you want from me? What am I expected to provide? Am I allowed to be a whole human here? Or will you require I be bite size again? I am desperate to be safe in the same flesh that once enticed those who hunted me. What do you want from me? I’ll tell you what I want. I want to go home whole, Knowing my skin is all mine.
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39
You don't need the smoky colored quartz dangling in your hair, Or the liquid rubies painted onto your soft lips, Or the powdered gold dusted onto your eyelids to hide the look of pain. You don't need the silver buttons strung up your shirt to make your aura seem pure, Or the perfect pearls around your throat to tease and allure, Or the obsidian skirt hugging your thighs to add the finishing touch. You don't need the diamond blade to make you bleed imperial topaz onto your marble floor, Or the laxatives made of howlites to cut your figure thin, Or the breast implants made of danburites to make you seem attractive. You are worth more than the emeralds that people compare your eyes to. You are worth more than the sapphires that make up the water in your body. And you are worth more than the taaffeites that compose the air you breath. You are a perfect angel without the expensive things. Just sing sweet lullabies of the truth and be yourself, To ensure you live in a beautiful reality.
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Mar 5, 2015
Mar 5, 2015 at 9:31 AM UTC
Of Gemstones and Precious Metals
i'll watch your eyes when you are speaking, to ensure your love is true 'cause i'm a hopeless overthinker and that's simply what we do. i will recall our conversations, analyse the things you say 'cause i'm a hopeless overthinker and i guess that's just our way. i'll hold your hand when you are lonely learn your dreams and heartaches too 'cause i'm a hopeless overthinker hopelessly in love with you.
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Mar 11, 2014
Mar 11, 2014 at 4:16 PM UTC
Hopeless Overthinker
Master the art of Flipping your L's (losses) into lessons Because more often than not, They are disguised blessings If they sort of set you back It's for you to bounce back Like a catapult or slingshot (or Big Sean) But never lose sight of your mission The flying beautiful butterfly Once crawled as a caterpillar Think about the trees, They never give up during the wintry days They only shed their leaves (For humans, drop the extra baggages) But trees bounce back during spring Sometimes, you just gotta Take a deep breadth And exhale peace Ensure to keep breathing And you'll sure get back on your feet Calm the nerves, Take a deep sleep But don't sleep in the deep You didn't fail You only found ways that would not work Credit to the man that invented the lightbulb Take the blows but get back up Very soon, the hardwork will pay off Put in more work And relent not Naysayers will always talk Don't be discouraged to put in work Your success will soon prove them wrong There is light at the end of the tunnel As there is light within your spirit Flick it on And you'll be on a winning spree
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Mar 7, 2019
Mar 7, 2019 at 10:49 PM UTC
Bounce back
I'll have me an Irish Coffee, make sure the coffee's fresh and stout, add a dash of dairy cream, and do NOT leave the whiskey out! http://beautyineverything.com/4819896887 Here's the ****** recipe: "Black coffee is poured into the mug. Whiskey and at least one level teaspoon of sugar is stirred in until fully dissolved. The sugar is essential for floating liquid cream on top.[11] Thick cream is carefully poured over the back of a spoon initially held just above the surface of the coffee and gradually raised a little.[12] The layer of cream will float on the coffee without mixing. The coffee is drunk through the layer of cream. To ensure the integrity of the ingredients of Irish Coffee, NSAI, Ireland's national standards body published an Irish Standard, I.S. 417 Irish Coffee in 1988.[13]" D-NOTE--It doesn't say a ******* THING about adding Bailey's Irish Creme or canned whipped topping and a plastic shamrock to the top of the ********* drink, now does it??? Anyone making Caife Gaelich with trendy ******** add-ons should be beaten with a shillelagh!
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Oct 12, 2010
Oct 12, 2010 at 3:07 AM UTC
An Irish Coffee (Caife Gaelach)
The Donald went down to Georgia He was lookin' for a state to steal He was angrily blind 'cause he was way behind And he was lookin to make ah deal When he came across this Q man Sawin' on Twitter and layin' plots And the Donald jumped upon a hickory stump And said, "Q let me tell you what" "I guess you didn't know it, but I'm a Twitter tweeter too And if you'd care to take my fare, I'll Twitter follow you Now you lay pretty good tweets, Q, but give the Donald his due I'll bet a Tower of gold for your soul 'Cause I think your tweets are cool" The Q said, "My game's phony, and it might be a sin But I'll take your bet, you won't regret 'Cause my tweets'll ensure you win Q, fire up your phone and type your Twitter hard 'Cause Hell's broke loose in Georgia and the Donald deals the cards And if I win, you get this shiny Tower made of gold But if you lose, the Donald gets your soul The Donald opened up his cell and he said, "I'll start this show" And fire flew from his thumb tips as he tweeted just for show And he pulled his thoughts across word streams and he made a evil hiss And a band of MAGAs joined in, and they tweeted somethin' like this When the Donald finished Q said, "Well, you're pretty good ol' Don But sit down in that chair right there And let me show you how tweet's done" "Biden's in the Basement", run, boys, run The Donald's in the Whitehouse having fun Ivanka's in the West Wing makin' dough Jared, do your thoughts bite? No, Don, no The Donald bowed his head because he knew that Q could tweet And he laid that golden Tower at the ground of Q's feet Q said, "Donald, just don't concede if you ever wanna win again I done tweeted you once, you son of a ***** Cuz my tweets will make you win" he played "Biden's in the Basement", run, boys, run The Donald's in the Whitehouse having fun Ivanka's in the West Wing makin' dough Jared, do your thoughts bite? No, Don, no
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Dec 7, 2020
Dec 7, 2020 at 8:07 PM UTC
The Donald Went Down To Georgia (re-write of The Devil Went Down To Georgia, by Charlie Daniels
The Donald went down to Georgia He was lookin' for a state to steal He was angrily blind 'cause he was way behind And he was lookin to make ah deal When he came across this Q man Sawin' on Twitter and layin' plots And the Donald jumped upon a hickory stump And said, "Q let me tell you what" "I guess you didn't know it, but I'm a Twitter tweeter too And if you'd care to take my fare, I'll Twitter follow you Now you lay pretty good tweets, Q, but give the Donald his due I'll bet a Tower of gold for your soul 'Cause I think your tweets are cool" The Q said, "My game's phony, and it might be a sin But I'll take your bet, you won't regret 'Cause my tweets'll ensure you win Q, fire up your phone and type your Twitter hard 'Cause Hell's broke loose in Georgia and the Donald deals the cards And if I win, you get this shiny Tower made of gold But if you lose, the Donald gets your soul The Donald opened up his cell and he said, "I'll start this show" And fire flew from his thumb tips as he tweeted just for show And he pulled his thoughts across word streams and he made a evil hiss And a band of MAGAs joined in, and they tweeted somethin' like this When the Donald finished Q said, "Well, you're pretty good ol' Don But sit down in that chair right there And let me show you how tweet's done" "Biden's in the Basement", run, boys, run The Donald's in the Whitehouse having fun Ivanka's in the West Wing makin' dough Jared, do your thoughts bite? No, Don, no The Donald bowed his head because he knew that Q could tweet And he laid that golden Tower at the ground of Q's feet Q said, "Donald, just don't concede if you ever wanna win again I done tweeted you once, you son of a ***** Cuz my tweets will make you win" he played "Biden's in the Basement", run, boys, run The Donald's in the Whitehouse having fun Ivanka's in the West Wing makin' dough Jared, do your thoughts bite? No, Don, no
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41
They live in huge houses, drive fancy cars Most know poverty only secondhand So how can they fix a problem... They don't really understand Given the role of a leader However, I'm convinced they are confused We live in worlds too far apart... How can they lead with similar views Their children go to private schools Only the finest and elite Their children will never need public education So they allow funding to deplete Their children will succeed I believe it's part of their plan To ensure that high society Will forever lead the average man The evidence is no secret They don't seem to care if we agree They know they hold this power So it doesn't matter if we see Our taxes keep going up Unemployment is at an all time high Life keeps getting harder for those just scrapping by The people making these decisions Of course they find it easy enough to do They're not deciding for themselves They decide for me and you The truth of the matter is... This country is ruled by hypocrisy They disguise this, however, very cleverly Today it's what we know as Democracy "A political government run by 'The People' through 'Selected' officials"... Democracy defined Compare it to the way it was truly designed Sure we get to 'select the official' But the one thing they seem to neglect They pick the people Many, that corruptive politics help select
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Mar 14, 2013
Mar 14, 2013 at 5:11 PM UTC
The Government (Part 2)
I wonder if Icarus knew how close to the sun he came before his undoing fell upon him. Was he so captivated by the beauty of the sun that he could not change his ways? Trapped by the freedom his wings gave him, like a moth to a flame was he destined to burn? I wonder if he failed only because his wings were formed from feathers and wax. Was his freedom formed from illusions and wax? Would the outcome have been different if his wings were not faux? I wonder if the sea tried to save him. Did the waves try to extinguish his flames and cool his melting wax? Did the ocean ensure his fate by trying to help? I wonder if it was hubris that was his downfall. Was it his pride that catalyzed his failure? Was it simply an account of failed ambitions? I wonder if it could have been different. Was he foreordained to fail? Would the sea have swallowed him had he not flown too close to the sun? I wonder if he was ever free at all. Did the sun capture him the second his wings freed him from the ground? Did Icarus know how close “too close” was?
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Dec 25, 2014
Dec 25, 2014 at 5:43 PM UTC
Icarus.
I want the back of your head I want the smell of your hair I dream of it Or so I've been Asleep for many years With arms in shape But not for me But to carry the weight To preserve the strength To ensure the future of our family For this desire For this my soul weeps And my arm ache I want you more than I want me*
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Jul 3, 2017
Jul 3, 2017 at 5:00 PM UTC
Desire
Each word is a potent seed, sow it with such loving care, these seeds, in fertile fields lie in wait patiently to sprout and to  ensure a golden harvest
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Mar 7, 2016
Mar 7, 2016 at 10:51 AM UTC
a word is a seed
In this, my last hour of rhyme, with stains uncontainèd by shaking hands Spreading like red soldiers running wartime untempered by generals shouting commands Then laughing like drunkards, drowning in wine that rich purple spills out from its barrels Then lying on bartops, eyes shine porcine and unheard soft voices hiss curses and carols. O, woe be on me if I speak out of time; out-tumbling come innards, spewed from a mouth Which whispered sad prayers in corners of grime: hints of spring-season on trips to the south; Watch them out-tumble, watch horri-divine like the death of the tragic, acted but true Yet laughing old minstrels declare it quite fine: and friends ensure royal-men breathe not from the blue. Hours fly past on wings of the Sun who turns misted eyes from child-fight below And lives lives of many, but cares not for none not least merchant servants, throttled in the snow. I fade and I fade: a blossom once watered and love of the stage is clogging my throat It changes my words: I fight it, I fought it and hot-wet floods up with drowning and choke. This minute, these words: I defy death. And cold, outward slipping: my slow final breath.
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Apr 25, 2014
Apr 25, 2014 at 5:14 AM UTC
Death of the Poet, Mercutio