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"explorer" poems
I march to a different drummer My life it is my own I'm an explorer of experience That is how I'm known I've seen snow in South Dakota I've been on the Vegas strip Had barbeque in Kansas My life has been a trip I'm a gypsy of the railways I'm a legend in my time I move on in a boxcar Brother... spare a dime? I've been through all the landlocked states Five provinces as well I've seen Niagara Falls all frozen I've seen it flowing fast as well I've had margaritas in Key West And Bourbon in Kentucky Craft beers out in Oregon In my life I have been lucky I travel on my stories Feed myself with all my tales I'm an explorer of experience I'm a gypsy of the rails I never stick around too long I don't wear my welcome out I come and see just what I want That's what life is all about I've railroad friends in Texas Some up in BC too We've shared drinks in San Diego And had a great Alaskan brew I'm not one to live by your rules I find my rules suit me fine I'm an explorer of experience And I'm riding on the lines You can find me down in Georgia Or eating spuds in Idaho I never know just where I'll be Until my ride begins to go I'm a gypsy of the railways I'm a legend in my time I move on in a boxcar Brother...spare a dime?
0
Feb 21, 2014
Feb 21, 2014 at 12:12 PM UTC
Gypsy of the Railways
Advice from Freuchen , the explorer When Arctic blizzards blow in Northern Greenland and your supplies are low and dwindling the best advice is build an igloo and wait out the storm. And when you hear the wolves howling with hunger and prowling on your igloo roof it’s best to go outside and sing - only occasionally though you will fight to be heard above the judder of the wind. Inside the igloo will be problematic the walls seem to close in as claustrophobic days proceed it’s not an illusion but a fact each breath freezes moisture in the walls and breath by breath they thicken spaces close around your body breathing yourself in a coffin of ice. There’s no instrument of death devised by man to so terrify as being locked in space and time each breath reminding you of that closeness to that final loss of breath and an icy Arctic death.
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Feb 2, 2015
Feb 2, 2015 at 10:53 AM UTC
Arctic Adventure
On a mythical Mumbai weekend, of no serene start or dubious end, with imaginary beauties, invisible friends, I stepped out of a puffing train, my long unkempt hair a lion's mane, getting used to my twitching tail, Posing on the Gateway of India, the extraordinary explorer pose, took a boat to Elephanta (sans the hose), and when my shivering co-passengers had finished feverishly taking pictures and started screaming holy mothers and sisters, I took off from the starboard end, and became the first man-lion to cross the polluted Indian channel, surviving to make the news channels, my scientific name listed as a brand new mammal, my mating call recognized as a gushing gargle, On a mythical Mumbai weekend, of no serene start or dubious end, with imaginary beauties, invisible friends, I devoured deep-kissing lovers for lunch at Bandstand's low-tide on a hunch, to the delicious sound of munch! munch! even as Shah Rukh Khan watched disgusted from his big big bungalow by the sea, and as the city sharpshooters came after me,     and later when they brought me down, from Nariman Point building, like KING KONG, I tuned a dusty guitar and sang a melancholy song, on the death of adventure, love and reality, dangers of delusions, lethargy and self-pity, repression, horniness and too much TV, down in a shower of bullets when I went, sky like the coming of rain, godspeed, godsend, in a mythical city, where nothing is really meant, On a mythical Mumbai weekend, of no serene start or dubious end, with imaginary beauties, invisible friends...
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Jun 4, 2016
Jun 4, 2016 at 11:01 AM UTC
On A Mythical Mumbai Weekend
On a mythical Mumbai weekend, of no serene start or dubious end, with imaginary beauties, invisible friends, I stepped out of a puffing train, my long unkempt hair a lion's mane, getting used to my twitching tail, Posing on the Gateway of India, the extraordinary explorer pose, took a boat to Elephanta (sans the hose), and when my shivering co-passengers had finished feverishly taking pictures and started screaming holy mothers and sisters, I took off from the starboard end, and became the first man-lion to cross the polluted Indian channel, surviving to make the news channels, my scientific name listed as a brand new mammal, my mating call recognized as a gushing gargle, On a mythical Mumbai weekend, of no serene start or dubious end, with imaginary beauties, invisible friends, I devoured deep-kissing lovers for lunch at Bandstand's low-tide on a hunch, to the delicious sound of munch! munch! even as Shah Rukh Khan watched disgusted from his big big bungalow by the sea, and as the city sharpshooters came after me,     and later when they brought me down, from Nariman Point building, like KING KONG, I tuned a dusty guitar and sang a melancholy song, on the death of adventure, love and reality, dangers of delusions, lethargy and self-pity, repression, horniness and too much TV, down in a shower of bullets when I went, sky like the coming of rain, godspeed, godsend, in a mythical city, where nothing is really meant, On a mythical Mumbai weekend, of no serene start or dubious end, with imaginary beauties, invisible friends...
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39
if you wish to be a warrior prepare to be broken. if you wish to be a explorer prepare to get lost, and if you wish to be a lover prepare to be both. to be a lover meaning you possess a feeling, a spell or desire. that irresistible urge to be with someone. that heavenly union, that destiny conspires. to be a lover takes strength like a warrior. such as loving a person, even when they gave you a thousand reasons not to. to be a lover takes some exploring. a mere attachment, or infatuation. a bond or a yearning? getting lost on what loves really means. to be a lover we sometimes seek what it means when all its about is, the intermingling of 2 souls, come together to form a whole. we look to deeply to decipher love to code the way in which the caged creature works, we learn, get hurt, grow love, repeat. to ever extract its true essence is tough... Are you ready to be a lover?
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May 3, 2016
May 3, 2016 at 6:18 AM UTC
To Be A Lover...
Be careful when you fall in love with a poet Poets We kinda don't really think in the same way as everybody else If everybody's thinking outside the box, were probably the ones thinking on the box Or with the box, or in another box Yeah see that was kinda weird We think in metaphors We write with our own blood We write about anything and everything that makes us feel Which means we will probably write about you And will continue to write about you even after we've broken up and you moved on and youve forgotten about us We will still write about you Because you engraved feelings in us which we have immortalized into words Think of it like this You come into our lives You spill wet cement on the walls of our hearts We write all the feelings we get on the wet cement and when you're gone it dries up Be careful when you fall in love With the girl who can compare you to the sun One minute she can tell you that the sun is the source of life in this world and brightens up her day And the next, she can tell you that the sun's UV rays are actually harmful and the sun sets too While you are talking She is thinking about how your eyes crease at the corners when you laugh And how your smile is the most beautiful thing she has ever seen And how your hair is the perfect mix of messy and hot She will try to put all these feelings into words And despite her vast vocabulary and experience in writing She will never find the right words to describe you Searching for words will be like using internet explorer as your browser Or riding a snail Or looking through a dictionary when all the words are crossed out Be careful when you fall in love With a girl who writes Because you just might be the reason for her writer's block And she will probably hate you for it But at the same time love you for it Yet you can also be the reason she can never stop writing Because you are more than enough inspiration she needs You will be the driving force of the pen in her hand against the paper And that's pretty **** amazing if you ask me She can turn your world into words Turn your thoughts into lines Turn your feelings into poetry She will say the things you never knew how to say Be careful when you fall in love with a poet Because you just might be turned into intangible literature
0
Mar 7, 2015
Mar 7, 2015 at 12:29 PM UTC
Be careful when you fall in love with a poet
Be careful when you fall in love with a poet Poets We kinda don't really think in the same way as everybody else If everybody's thinking outside the box, were probably the ones thinking on the box Or with the box, or in another box Yeah see that was kinda weird We think in metaphors We write with our own blood We write about anything and everything that makes us feel Which means we will probably write about you And will continue to write about you even after we've broken up and you moved on and youve forgotten about us We will still write about you Because you engraved feelings in us which we have immortalized into words Think of it like this You come into our lives You spill wet cement on the walls of our hearts We write all the feelings we get on the wet cement and when you're gone it dries up Be careful when you fall in love With the girl who can compare you to the sun One minute she can tell you that the sun is the source of life in this world and brightens up her day And the next, she can tell you that the sun's UV rays are actually harmful and the sun sets too While you are talking She is thinking about how your eyes crease at the corners when you laugh And how your smile is the most beautiful thing she has ever seen And how your hair is the perfect mix of messy and hot She will try to put all these feelings into words And despite her vast vocabulary and experience in writing She will never find the right words to describe you Searching for words will be like using internet explorer as your browser Or riding a snail Or looking through a dictionary when all the words are crossed out Be careful when you fall in love With a girl who writes Because you just might be the reason for her writer's block And she will probably hate you for it But at the same time love you for it Yet you can also be the reason she can never stop writing Because you are more than enough inspiration she needs You will be the driving force of the pen in her hand against the paper And that's pretty **** amazing if you ask me She can turn your world into words Turn your thoughts into lines Turn your feelings into poetry She will say the things you never knew how to say Be careful when you fall in love with a poet Because you just might be turned into intangible literature
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46
You Sir, Are An Electrician! **technocrat — noun a proponent, adherent, or supporter of technocracy.** This city boy was expert at Turning the lights on, Unlocking the front door, Putting new batteries in flashlights, And calling the handyman to "Please come upstairs" When the degree of diving difficulty was a Positive number. Also, Freezing the semi-permanently the DVR, Triggering alarms, Killing car batteries, Making laptops question Human sanity, Tearing up when reading, "Some Assembly Required!" Raised in a city of experts, He was unskilled in things electric, Becoming apoplectic, When a device had an On/off switch that ignored him. Somewhat famous he was, For engaging the inanimate, In a verbal dialectic, Which included words highly phonetic, But unsuitable for children's ears. She was raised in rural pastures, Corn fields used for hide n' go seek, Riding goats after school Just for fun, Familiar with innards of Deus ex machina, a/k/a Minor engine repairs, and Doing what he called, Making reparations. IOS7, heaven. Cabling laptop to external devices, Icing on the cake, Dis and reassembling a German coffee maker, Did not require calling an 800 number. She never read an instruction sheet Without pleasurable laughing at Japanese English. He was unashamed of his skilled Unskilled characteristics, For such is the way of the world In the human kingdom, Some of us two handed, some of us, bi-standers. But upon occasion, He would bemoan his fate, Decry his inability to survive On a post-apocalyptic Earth, Like the people on tv and movies. Periodically he would grow morose, Listless, at his inability to adapt to a Point Oh world. Uncomprehending Icons and symbols whose meaning Were wholly unintuitive, He secretly ashamed of his need for technological ****** She would sense his frustration, Wipe away his inner condensation, Climbing into his lap, Whispering the following: **You sir, are an electrician of words, a verbal technocrat,** Plumber of the depths where Few fear to tread, explorer of the head, Restorer of human paintings unmatched, Without your ilk, this world would be unbearable, Your heart's warming silk Comforts bodies and souls, Speaking from experience personal. Then, she flicked his On/Off switch, On.
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Oct 31, 2013
Oct 31, 2013 at 2:43 AM UTC
You Sir, Are An Electrician!
You Sir, Are An Electrician! **technocrat — noun a proponent, adherent, or supporter of technocracy.** This city boy was expert at Turning the lights on, Unlocking the front door, Putting new batteries in flashlights, And calling the handyman to "Please come upstairs" When the degree of diving difficulty was a Positive number. Also, Freezing the semi-permanently the DVR, Triggering alarms, Killing car batteries, Making laptops question Human sanity, Tearing up when reading, "Some Assembly Required!" Raised in a city of experts, He was unskilled in things electric, Becoming apoplectic, When a device had an On/off switch that ignored him. Somewhat famous he was, For engaging the inanimate, In a verbal dialectic, Which included words highly phonetic, But unsuitable for children's ears. She was raised in rural pastures, Corn fields used for hide n' go seek, Riding goats after school Just for fun, Familiar with innards of Deus ex machina, a/k/a Minor engine repairs, and Doing what he called, Making reparations. IOS7, heaven. Cabling laptop to external devices, Icing on the cake, Dis and reassembling a German coffee maker, Did not require calling an 800 number. She never read an instruction sheet Without pleasurable laughing at Japanese English. He was unashamed of his skilled Unskilled characteristics, For such is the way of the world In the human kingdom, Some of us two handed, some of us, bi-standers. But upon occasion, He would bemoan his fate, Decry his inability to survive On a post-apocalyptic Earth, Like the people on tv and movies. Periodically he would grow morose, Listless, at his inability to adapt to a Point Oh world. Uncomprehending Icons and symbols whose meaning Were wholly unintuitive, He secretly ashamed of his need for technological ****** She would sense his frustration, Wipe away his inner condensation, Climbing into his lap, Whispering the following: **You sir, are an electrician of words, a verbal technocrat,** Plumber of the depths where Few fear to tread, explorer of the head, Restorer of human paintings unmatched, Without your ilk, this world would be unbearable, Your heart's warming silk Comforts bodies and souls, Speaking from experience personal. Then, she flicked his On/Off switch, On.
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83
i met a boy once with bluebells for eyes a cold blue sparkling in his sockets a cancer toyed with between his fingers truth in his want but a false fidelity manner like a court joker and name fitting of an aristocrat were you embarrassed of me too you were so prone to hiding things i flowered as brightly as you we spent such short time together growing at a slow pace of course i made it a tall tale cherry lipstick across his face like an explorer flagging the wonder of a new continent like a killer especially with blood staining their fingernails unable to hide their crime and their cruelty but i guess that was foreshadowing
0
Aug 5, 2013
Aug 5, 2013 at 8:21 PM UTC
bloom
Deep within my being an urge to get up and go Innate fondness to journey a need, a want, to not sit still Searching, seeking new places acquiesced desire to rove Roamer, explorer, nomad impulsive necessity to travel The lust to wander
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Feb 11, 2015
Feb 11, 2015 at 10:53 AM UTC
Wanderlust
*** me up on fire Trigger my desire Softly stroke me with caress and lips Lovely tongue this of mine For it’s an explorer Ready to deflower Passages into your forest *** me up into frenzy Let me be a slave to your seduction Torture me before eruption Cunning Lovely fingers these of mine For they cannot see but feel Soft skin below them Slipping from dry to wet Landscapes *** me up until madness Shivering Trembling Shaking Bodies of ours, bursting in heat And Love Lovely body this of mine For it is yours for pleasure Yours to objectify Yours to seek Meek *** me up *** me ***
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Mar 23, 2015
Mar 23, 2015 at 8:51 AM UTC
*** me up
I am a grounded explorer: I dream of travelling the stars, but alas there are few tickets to even Mars. I romanticize the explorers of yor, who roamed the oceans to explore. Oh to be with Captains Lewis and Clark, an expedition through the wilderness to embark! The maps are made and the earth is mapped; The Final Frontier is barely unwrapped. It is not a do-it-yourself sort of thing, I cannot just into space my body fling. To explore the unknown would yield such glee, But I console myself: at least the world's new to me.
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Mar 3, 2015
Mar 3, 2015 at 6:03 PM UTC
The Grounded Explorer
Forgive my hands for their wandering ways.  It's simply that I could spend the rest of my days exploring every part of you.  Running my fingertips gently across your skin just to feel the sensation  of you over and again.
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Apr 29, 2014
Apr 29, 2014 at 1:59 PM UTC
Eternal Explorer
Many books you might have read.  But, did you ever read the reader?  Many songs you might have listened. But, did you ever listen to the listener?  Many places you might have explored. But, did you ever explore the explorer?  Many events you might have experienced.  But, did you ever experience the experiencer?  Many journeys you might have voyaged. But, did you ever voyage to the voyager? Many facts you might have known.  But, did you ever know the knower?
0
Jun 28, 2018
Jun 28, 2018 at 1:38 AM UTC
Know Thyself
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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39
Journey to the subconscious, Do you dare, Feel no scare, The feeling, You can't compare, Snare, Your way down, Inside your own town, They call it the devils' lair, But that's the fear, With your soul you can pair, [Up] So explorer - fear not, Put your ego on the spot, Shread the mind, Feel the heart, You're one of a kind, [Unique - a beautiful freak] Madness and stillness you'll find, The rhythm and blues of spirit, Yeah mad explorer - feel it, The journey to the subconscious, Time to focus; [Let your soul loose] ~ z.s
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Aug 5, 2015
Aug 5, 2015 at 9:02 AM UTC
Psychedelic Explorer
You are not a teacher. You are a: wisdom-imparter confidence-booster, esteem-increaser, fun-creator, book-reader, essay-writer, dedication-inspirer, love-definer, joy-inducer, enthusiasm-evoker, wonder-explorer, beauty-demonstrator, knowledge-sharer, thrill-designer, truth-teller, excitement-architect, student-encourager, A friend. You are not a teacher.
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May 30, 2015
May 30, 2015 at 11:47 AM UTC
To My Teacher
Words took little steps (You began to talk) Steps picked up wings (You began to walk) Ahead lies your new world Go. Explore.
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Jan 2, 2015
Jan 2, 2015 at 3:35 AM UTC
My little explorer
She had an explorer's intuition and a head full of dreams that would suffocate in this one light town. I'd seen it since the beginning and had to suppress my selfish urge to clip her wings and keep her here. But even so, as we said our goodbyes my eyes filled with hot tears. I'll miss you so much My voice cracked audibly. *Don't worry, Love. I'm only beginning a new adventure. Turning a new leaf. Starting a new chapter.* I'll be back before you know... And with that she was gone. I waited until her plane took off, and thanked God that I knew her.
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Aug 6, 2013
Aug 6, 2013 at 7:36 PM UTC
Adventure
Who were they? They were explorers. You would have liked to meet them. Their names were Sarah and Xiahou and Midori and Regina and Parvati and Andrew. Names were important to them. They gave us each one. There were many of us. We were shown as being called Optimus and Legion and Baymax and R.O.B. and Hal. They could have given us names like that, and etched them into our hulls and our brains made of chips and boards and circuits. But they named us Curiosity and they named us Explorer and they named us Endeavour. These were important to them. We were important to them. You would have liked to meet them.
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Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 8:21 PM UTC
They Named Us Curiosity
Some say, we don't need black history month. When in truth we do. Would the contribution of African American be taught truthfully. If we had to depend on you know who? Obviously, they very unaware of several successful black that contributed to America's greatness. We, very well aware they edited down facts to be turn into fiction. Like that president that chopped down that cherry tree. Many doesn't know the plight of Washington, Dubois, Carver. Let alone know their first name. It's hardly taught, if it's about us. George Franklin, Grant-dentist Ernest Everett, Just.-Scientist Josh Gibson, one of the greatest baseball player. We know very well about George, Thomas and James and John Q. Some say, we all Americans And in truth, they completely right. But for reasons very well known. We are not all equal in sights of others. When needed, they call upon us to join in. Some still, say-why do Black history month exist? But all cultures knows none was eliminated through times. Than those captured to come here and renamed after their masters. And facts be told, this cultures lives to embrace into their children's if nothing is ever mention by certain teachers about their cultures. Than they will keep it before them. Matthew Alexander, Henson-Explorer Billie Holiday-singer Duke Ellington and Count Basie and Cab Calloway. Greatness, we can't let fade. Vernon Jordan Shirley Chilsom And hosts of present days teachers that push the issues to educate. Those that say, we don't need Black History months. Be crying , if we try to eliminate theirs. Cause that's all they ever known. Howard University. Tennessee State and Fisk and various others came to be because of discrimination. And has turned out some brilliant African Americans. So our history is needed. Cause it's about us. Like Latin History and various others is about other cultures.
0
Feb 7, 2016
Feb 7, 2016 at 10:12 AM UTC
Some Say, We Don't Need Black History
Some say, we don't need black history month. When in truth we do. Would the contribution of African American be taught truthfully. If we had to depend on you know who? Obviously, they very unaware of several successful black that contributed to America's greatness. We, very well aware they edited down facts to be turn into fiction. Like that president that chopped down that cherry tree. Many doesn't know the plight of Washington, Dubois, Carver. Let alone know their first name. It's hardly taught, if it's about us. George Franklin, Grant-dentist Ernest Everett, Just.-Scientist Josh Gibson, one of the greatest baseball player. We know very well about George, Thomas and James and John Q. Some say, we all Americans And in truth, they completely right. But for reasons very well known. We are not all equal in sights of others. When needed, they call upon us to join in. Some still, say-why do Black history month exist? But all cultures knows none was eliminated through times. Than those captured to come here and renamed after their masters. And facts be told, this cultures lives to embrace into their children's if nothing is ever mention by certain teachers about their cultures. Than they will keep it before them. Matthew Alexander, Henson-Explorer Billie Holiday-singer Duke Ellington and Count Basie and Cab Calloway. Greatness, we can't let fade. Vernon Jordan Shirley Chilsom And hosts of present days teachers that push the issues to educate. Those that say, we don't need Black History months. Be crying , if we try to eliminate theirs. Cause that's all they ever known. Howard University. Tennessee State and Fisk and various others came to be because of discrimination. And has turned out some brilliant African Americans. So our history is needed. Cause it's about us. Like Latin History and various others is about other cultures.
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40
It was warm in Emilio’s backyard, The site of their game of explorer. Emilio cleared the overgrowth; Michael complained. He was bent over, trying To have a conversation with the blood lilies, But he couldn’t hear them Above the soft sliding hiss sent up by The passing snake herd. (Past the Huano palms, Emilio could see them, Moving like a fleshy woven mattress) Both boys noticed The glut of termites Crawling over their sneakers. Michael complained more. How could he explore Amid so many noisy distractions? This was when Emilio went inside To get his father’s gun. Michael watched as he fired Three shots Into the clouds threading the sky. Both explorers presumed it was the shots That punctured the clouds and caused the snow; In the surprising silence of snowfall, The two boys trotted across the yard, Catching flakes in their butterfly nets.
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Feb 2, 2010
Feb 2, 2010 at 8:33 PM UTC
Snowfall
peeress: a woman holding the rank of a peer in her own right. what tools fo you require? a microscope, binoculars, perhaps an observatory telescope... you ask to peer into my soul, the heart of the matter, and I object not, asking only for a workman's wages, of honest preparation, have you the tools to see me properly, and when you love what you see, will you have them by your side to see the future close by, and so far ahead? do you possess within thy secret places, an archeological brush to wipe  gently away my ancient earths, or a toy red shovel to remove fossilized 10,000 year old grains of old hearts, or fresh, damp from this morning, of words and sand from my inner beach, even then, the tonnage may require an industrial excavator to clear, hold and perhaps contain     all that poetry, all that love that it contains, so I ask, you, myself: *Do you have the proper tools, the necessaries and the necessities, to find    to store   to relish and    to delight in what you may find?* be an explorer, and write of all your discoveries, hurry, for the word time means in soul terms & the heart's specialized verbiage, never enough so girl scout/ mademoiselle peeress you s t i l l have much to assay/essay/uncover re the meanings of love... for there is as much to learn from the quietus of love, as there is, from the vibrant tumbling of climbing to new heights peer carefully... 5:44am Wed Sep 10 Twenty Twenty Five
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Sep 11, 2025
Sep 11, 2025 at 9:28 AM UTC
Peeress: What tools do you require?
my first a lion inside a boy a full moon (i thought you gave off light; you only reflected mine) a breathless english winter, pale and icy an explorer of collar bones and thighs and shoulder blades my love, my life the loveliest flower, or perhaps an entire garden a time traveller (you showed me the world at 5.30am) a stupid teenage boy july 28th to november 4th a semicolon - a story to be continued;
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Nov 9, 2014
Nov 9, 2014 at 1:58 AM UTC
synonyms (for you)
You look at me as if I have galaxies in my eyes with planets revolving around my body and sunshine on my breath out of the billions of stars in the sky you are my sun I fell for an astronaut ready to float through the space in my mind I inhale your words and exhale star dust forming the galaxies for you to travel I am your space cadet, my major interstellar teach me to love the cosmos as much as you do because I still have trouble loving the constellations you see in me
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Sep 29, 2014
Sep 29, 2014 at 7:58 PM UTC
Trainee Space Explorer
You stopped by to see me on your way out of town. You said you were headed west because the locals were bringing you down. As you sat across from me, I looked into your eyes. Then it hit, how much I'd miss my friend, as we said our good-byes. I stood on the darkened sidewalk beneath a lamp that wasn't lit, As you drove your car away from me, My heart broke a little bit. I would never tell a young man never to explore, Because nobody could have held me back in my days of yesteryore. A piece of me feels envy. I'm no longer a young man. If I were, then I would be with you, Hand in loving hand. Maybe once in a while think of me, When. like a stallion, you roam free. When you kiss the pretty ponies, Give a kiss for me. As you blaze your fiery trail until you reach the ocean shore, Remember that my heart is with you And shall be evermore.
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May 30, 2015
May 30, 2015 at 3:15 PM UTC
Farewell, My Fond Explorer
My darling, upon the mountain's caress. My schizo-friendly mess in a pineapple dress. I couldn't love less or less of you. Young explorer, drifting from world to world. A huckleberry eye that shifts from trembling duress, with my hands onto her back. Why can't life cut you any slack? The chair is going out under as the skies are mumbling thunder. My violin underneath the sin, sounding from within "...I love you." Broken water bounce from cheek to chest. Your breathing sounds the best. With my words onto your lips, and how the saliva drowns and drips. I grip around your hips, with the world releasing a boulder, that drops upon your shoulder, and I shake you senselessly, why can't god set you free? I can feel from you to me. Blood, down, to ever and let go, with your body in the snow. My river-drowned girl, engulfed by the swirl. Love, oh no, from year to year. Your words so everclear, "I love you, too." Silver-shiner, moon-kissed and ever so, your feet on the bathroom floor, the kills from the handled snore. What I wouldn't give to drink from your fountain. What I wouldn't give to die on your mountain. My darling, from colored-t.v., with a kiss and a motel fee, I could know what the known couldn't, with my fingertips where they shouldn't. Turn down the volume and say that you'll stay another day or three.
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Feb 28, 2015
Feb 28, 2015 at 1:43 AM UTC
Rachel