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"fastest" poems
I may not be I may not be the fastest I may not be the tallest Or the strongest I may not be the best Or the brightest But one thing I can do better Than anyone else... That is To be me
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27.1k
I may not be
I have a nephew who's full of life Makes me happy in this **** life . He is the rising sun Breaking light on every one Helping me smile Helping me be free Colors just burst for he He can not talk He is special needs But in his silence I no his needs He also smart He understands me He make me laugh He so full of glee So happy So insightful So misunderstood He walks in a room A bomb of energy Oh dear sweet boy I do love thee Thankyou for trusting me Thankyou for showing me How to be free You are the fastest river I ever see run The strongest boy So full of joy Heart so pure Colours dance around you when you sleep He is the kindest wee boy you will ever meet x
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May 14, 2018
May 14, 2018 at 9:18 AM UTC
My wee man
Who draws strength from watching the passage of time after dark blur against the windows of a moving train bound for ends uncertain. Who walks most balanced on the beams of empty tracks. In the shuffle of strangers at a crosswalk, who finds direction. Who sees clearer through rain. Who finds their place in the limbo of airport terminals, on delayed flights between chapters, over open roads that branch into tales of cities unseen, in the turn of pages unwritten. Who can keep track of time during the improvised chaos of jazz, catching notes scattered in the winds of horns. Who understands that wind moves fastest through dark places like tunnels, during storms in late August. Who finds their center hurled in flight, always coming and going.
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Sep 7, 2018
Sep 7, 2018 at 8:34 AM UTC
Roaming in August
Why is it That the biggest hearts Are emptied the fastest? And the brightest souls Are blackened The quickest?
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Jun 19, 2015
Jun 19, 2015 at 5:12 PM UTC
Why?
Dem phones, dem phones, dem iPhones, Dem phones, dem phones, dem iPhones, Dem phones, dem phones, dem iPhones, Now praise the Lord for the Web. The Apple phone’s connected to the Vodaphone, And the Vodaphone’s connected to the Google Zone, The Google Zone’s connected to the Web Zone, Oh hear the Lord of the Word. Well the phone’s connected to a browser And it fits very neatly in your trouser. The browser connects you to the Internet Faster than the fastest speed-jet, Just the place for a quick bet. Oh hear the Lord of the Word. It might get you onto Facebook Or teach you how to be good cook Find you some ladies for a good… Time. Now Praise the Lord of The Word. Paul Butters
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Aug 20, 2015
Aug 20, 2015 at 4:04 PM UTC
Dem Phones
Right. Listen to this: Whenever life gets you down, Mrs. Brown, and things seem hard or tough, and people are stupid, obnoxious or daft and you feel that you've had quite enough! Just remember that you're standing on a planet that's evolving and revolving at nine hundred miles an hour! It's orbiting at nineteen miles a second, so it's reckoned, a Sun that it the source of all our power. The Sun, and you and me, and all the stars that we can see are moving at a Million miles a day in an outer spiral arm at forty thousand miles an hour of the Galaxy we call the Milky Way. Our Galaxy, itself, contains a hundred Billion stars. It's a hundred thousand light-years side to side. It bulges in the middle sixteen thousand light-years thick, but out by us it's just three thousand light-years wide. We're thirty thousand light-years from Galactic Central Point, we go round every two hundred Million years! And our Galaxy is only one of Millions of Billions in this amazing and expanding Universe! The Universe, itself, keeps on expanding and expanding in all of the directions it can **** As fast as it can go, the speed of Light, you know twelve Million miles a minute, and that's the fastest speed there is! So, remember when you're feeling very small and insecure, how amazingly unlikely is your birth! And prey that there's intelligent life somewhere up in space because there's ****** all down here on Earth!
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Apr 11, 2014
Apr 11, 2014 at 8:23 PM UTC
The Galaxy Song - Monty Python
gee i like to think of dead it means nearer because deeper firmer since darker than little round water at one end of the well it’s too cool to be crooked and it’s too firm to be hard but it’s sharp and thick and it loves, every old thing falls in rosebugs and jackknives and kittens and pennies they all sit there looking at each other having the fastest time because they’ve never met before dead’s more even than how many ways of sitting on your head your unnatural hair has in the morning dead’s clever too like POF goes the alarm off and the little striker having the best time tickling away everybody’s brain so everybody just puts out their finger and they stuff the poor thing all full of fingers dead has a smile like the nicest man you’ve never met who maybe winks at you in a streetcar and you pretend you don’t but really you do see and you are My how glad he winked and hope he’ll do it again or if it talks about you somewhere behind your back it makes your neck feel pleasant and stoopid and if dead says may i have this one and was never introduced you say Yes because you know you want it to dance with you and it wants to and it can dance and Whocares dead’s fine like hands do you see that water flowerpots in windows but they live higher in their house than you so that’s all you see but you don’t want to dead’s happy like the way underclothes All so differently solemn and inti and sitting on one string dead never says my dear,Time for your musiclesson and you like music and to have somebody play who can but you know you never can and why have to? dead’s nice like a dance where you danced simple hours and you take all your prickly-clothes off and squeeze-into-largeness without one word and you lie still as anything in largeness and this largeness begins to give you,the dance all over again and you,feel all again all over the way men you liked made you feel when they touched you(but that’s not all)because largeness tells you so you can feel what you made,men feel when,you touched, them dead’s sorry like a thistlefluff-thing which goes landing away all by himself on somebody’s roof or something where who-ever-heard-of-growing and nobody expects you to anyway dead says come with me he says(andwhyevernot)into the round well and see the kitten and the penny and the jackknife and the rosebug and you say Sure you say (like that) sure i’ll come with you you say for i like kittens i do and jackknives i do and pennies i do and rosebugs i do
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9.1k
Gee I Like To Think Of Dead It Means Nearer Because Deeper Firmer
gee i like to think of dead it means nearer because deeper firmer since darker than little round water at one end of the well it’s too cool to be crooked and it’s too firm to be hard but it’s sharp and thick and it loves, every old thing falls in rosebugs and jackknives and kittens and pennies they all sit there looking at each other having the fastest time because they’ve never met before dead’s more even than how many ways of sitting on your head your unnatural hair has in the morning dead’s clever too like POF goes the alarm off and the little striker having the best time tickling away everybody’s brain so everybody just puts out their finger and they stuff the poor thing all full of fingers dead has a smile like the nicest man you’ve never met who maybe winks at you in a streetcar and you pretend you don’t but really you do see and you are My how glad he winked and hope he’ll do it again or if it talks about you somewhere behind your back it makes your neck feel pleasant and stoopid and if dead says may i have this one and was never introduced you say Yes because you know you want it to dance with you and it wants to and it can dance and Whocares dead’s fine like hands do you see that water flowerpots in windows but they live higher in their house than you so that’s all you see but you don’t want to dead’s happy like the way underclothes All so differently solemn and inti and sitting on one string dead never says my dear,Time for your musiclesson and you like music and to have somebody play who can but you know you never can and why have to? dead’s nice like a dance where you danced simple hours and you take all your prickly-clothes off and squeeze-into-largeness without one word and you lie still as anything in largeness and this largeness begins to give you,the dance all over again and you,feel all again all over the way men you liked made you feel when they touched you(but that’s not all)because largeness tells you so you can feel what you made,men feel when,you touched, them dead’s sorry like a thistlefluff-thing which goes landing away all by himself on somebody’s roof or something where who-ever-heard-of-growing and nobody expects you to anyway dead says come with me he says(andwhyevernot)into the round well and see the kitten and the penny and the jackknife and the rosebug and you say Sure you say (like that) sure i’ll come with you you say for i like kittens i do and jackknives i do and pennies i do and rosebugs i do
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i like to watch the cheetah showing of his speed flying like the wind very fast indeed chasing after prey he begins to bounce then a mighty leap on his prey will pounce the fastest cat of all faster then rest noted for his speed the cheetah is the best such a lovely creature running in the wild master of the hunt and mother natures child
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Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 12:42 PM UTC
cheetah watch
I want you to make me feel naked everywhere saying things that make necks hot, face hot don't have to be so ****** don't have to touch Want to? Do so, though, don't be so mechanical swim on, flow on, spill on, no pushing the things said should tear open, pop seams wonder what's inside,  beating running, ebbing, draining, no inspecting, no prodding a thorough investigation with  eyes, words make the most difference, words dig the farthest fill the fastest, reach to ends that previously had no end the end
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Oct 22, 2012
Oct 22, 2012 at 2:54 PM UTC
Pronoun.
Shouting for longevity, Slamming at the counterers… - upon your dignified respite! Would-be detractors without brevity, Before the wine-dark Sea at night… A pleading to philosophy of commonly renowned, Beating sand and posturing, uncouth before a crown; “Priam please!” Sun and Moon, two sons shall plead, nay, -beg in tandem with the man; “He serves the seas, trust him please, our father; this priest of Trojan-land!” Laocoon “Fear the Greeks, of mind I speak, approval by a van-i-ty; it surely is a death you seek! An asp this horse, gift no more and tragedy in due remorse, I beg of you my call to heed, wooden-burnt this crispy steed, …alight in flame, glorified name; Poseidon shall endorse!” Priests of Apollo “Ridiculous! Worship we must, now bring it to the City thus!” Laocoon “The actions of accursed Kore, Need I remind you all Paris caused this war? For he mocked this god, the abyss it knows, with terror comes a deadly tide, **** that fool and his fiddling pride!* Burn this beast we must with haste for Greeks they have a certain taste, Their acts meant always to confound, wily, since they were unbound. What harm may do, to rest at shore? Consult the stars of yester-yore. Assign no chore, one heaven’s night, plus a day, to sit upon our princely shore?” Setting (read/spoken at the fastest pace the reader can go) A horrid hiss above the wave as two doth slither from out the cave…   The creatures from the darkest days, ancient spectacle for the knaves, bear witness to the punishment, commanded by a great trident, hearing screams of bannermen, for King and council a shocking twist, serpents ****** from out the mists, encircling priest and his kin, the howling they had done no sin, never be forgot-ten, as Typhon cried out merrily, serpents and the tragic sea; swallowed up all the three. Priam “Farewell dear Laocoon and two sons with thee!” *
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Jun 17, 2016
Jun 17, 2016 at 4:13 PM UTC
Knowledge of the Peoples
Shouting for longevity, Slamming at the counterers… - upon your dignified respite! Would-be detractors without brevity, Before the wine-dark Sea at night… A pleading to philosophy of commonly renowned, Beating sand and posturing, uncouth before a crown; “Priam please!” Sun and Moon, two sons shall plead, nay, -beg in tandem with the man; “He serves the seas, trust him please, our father; this priest of Trojan-land!” Laocoon “Fear the Greeks, of mind I speak, approval by a van-i-ty; it surely is a death you seek! An asp this horse, gift no more and tragedy in due remorse, I beg of you my call to heed, wooden-burnt this crispy steed, …alight in flame, glorified name; Poseidon shall endorse!” Priests of Apollo “Ridiculous! Worship we must, now bring it to the City thus!” Laocoon “The actions of accursed Kore, Need I remind you all Paris caused this war? For he mocked this god, the abyss it knows, with terror comes a deadly tide, **** that fool and his fiddling pride!* Burn this beast we must with haste for Greeks they have a certain taste, Their acts meant always to confound, wily, since they were unbound. What harm may do, to rest at shore? Consult the stars of yester-yore. Assign no chore, one heaven’s night, plus a day, to sit upon our princely shore?” Setting (read/spoken at the fastest pace the reader can go) A horrid hiss above the wave as two doth slither from out the cave…   The creatures from the darkest days, ancient spectacle for the knaves, bear witness to the punishment, commanded by a great trident, hearing screams of bannermen, for King and council a shocking twist, serpents ****** from out the mists, encircling priest and his kin, the howling they had done no sin, never be forgot-ten, as Typhon cried out merrily, serpents and the tragic sea; swallowed up all the three. Priam “Farewell dear Laocoon and two sons with thee!” *
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I have shorn the hair of Samson And the tiger's claws unsheathed I have spit into the hurricane And defied as fires breathed The minutest one is fastest And the closest one to me The largest is the strongest The most likely to break free The middle is most cunning Spits and growls at my resolve Yet I face the fearsome challenge As should one the more evolved I have bravely fought the battle To triumphant victory As I fiercely clip the claws Of not just one cat, but all three Cori MacNaughton 20Mar2001
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Jun 11, 2015
Jun 11, 2015 at 12:53 PM UTC
Victory
The race isn't for the fastest, But for those who can endure it until the end. Boy like a cheater and a world record beater, On the running track with his sponsored spiked sneakers. Ready for the race and the crowd's screaming BOLT!! An athlete's little secret later on was unfold. Deceiver in the eyes and loyal in disguise. A proper pro player, with heavy bonds and ties. Not in it for it but in it for the fame, Forgetting about the hard-work, sweat, loss and pain. An athlete's little secret, later on explained. People, can you trust in the one you trusted before? Or even the one who stand among you today? Their lies and deceits are like roaring storms, And they are like animals that are very hard to tame. But they took it upon themselves playing a dangerous game. An athlete's little secret, later on in shame. They took drugs like all around the clock. The more drugs they took, the more enhanced they got. But then they got exposed and hid in shame. I guess that drugs didn't help their strive to fame. Left in the dark and loss all but everything, Can people still trust? Can a second chance be given? An athlete's little secret, later on forgotten. An athlete's little secret, later all on the news, An athlete's little secret, so much they had to loose. A athlete's little secret, once a try and a glance, An athlete's little secret, there is no second chance. An athlete's little secret, there's no more to say, An athlete's little secret, the bed you made to lay. The world once had great and untouchable athletes. Who had admiring levels of personas. Who truly understood what hard-work brings, And who went through pain and unbearable things. But there are some who stoop really low, Just so they can bring a medal home. Bronze or silver, none or gold, An athlete's little secret later on was told. Based on this topic and what I have learnt. The lost of young athletes made me felt hurt. But it's not fake it's all reality. This fight isn't against powers nor principalities. But a fight to teach honesty and give all of your heart. An athlete's little secret, a fight to make it last.
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Feb 6, 2018
Feb 6, 2018 at 4:00 PM UTC
An Athlete's Little Secret
The race isn't for the fastest, But for those who can endure it until the end. Boy like a cheater and a world record beater, On the running track with his sponsored spiked sneakers. Ready for the race and the crowd's screaming BOLT!! An athlete's little secret later on was unfold. Deceiver in the eyes and loyal in disguise. A proper pro player, with heavy bonds and ties. Not in it for it but in it for the fame, Forgetting about the hard-work, sweat, loss and pain. An athlete's little secret, later on explained. People, can you trust in the one you trusted before? Or even the one who stand among you today? Their lies and deceits are like roaring storms, And they are like animals that are very hard to tame. But they took it upon themselves playing a dangerous game. An athlete's little secret, later on in shame. They took drugs like all around the clock. The more drugs they took, the more enhanced they got. But then they got exposed and hid in shame. I guess that drugs didn't help their strive to fame. Left in the dark and loss all but everything, Can people still trust? Can a second chance be given? An athlete's little secret, later on forgotten. An athlete's little secret, later all on the news, An athlete's little secret, so much they had to loose. A athlete's little secret, once a try and a glance, An athlete's little secret, there is no second chance. An athlete's little secret, there's no more to say, An athlete's little secret, the bed you made to lay. The world once had great and untouchable athletes. Who had admiring levels of personas. Who truly understood what hard-work brings, And who went through pain and unbearable things. But there are some who stoop really low, Just so they can bring a medal home. Bronze or silver, none or gold, An athlete's little secret later on was told. Based on this topic and what I have learnt. The lost of young athletes made me felt hurt. But it's not fake it's all reality. This fight isn't against powers nor principalities. But a fight to teach honesty and give all of your heart. An athlete's little secret, a fight to make it last.
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at three times the speed of sound the SR-71 was so fast it didn’t need to hide, but when I met you we were slower, metal walls covered in black reconnaissance paint, sonar silence. blackbird, shy sometimes you bit your lower lip, or my eyes drowned, and we looked down and I cursed my stubbornly earthbound feet, but blessed be the stars that crossed for us to meet. blackbird, cry under the cozy cover of quietly building-up time we moved on. when the back of your hand brushes my face it slowly lifts another brick of something sturdy into place. the way your palms get clammy with excitement when you point out planes coming out and in, the way your eyes light with joy and nervousness at my reaction is how I feel when I lean over your shoulder and point out jupiter in the sky. blackbird, dry your eyes the hello was slow, but goodbyes move faster than sound. we finally found saturn and then time ran out. standard procedure for the SR-71 in the event of a missile lock-on was to continue being the fastest thing in the sky. blackbird, fly
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Jul 30, 2015
Jul 30, 2015 at 4:36 PM UTC
SR-71 blackbird
Here at Kinkos We have a saying, “copies of copies” You are trained to always ask for a source file The digital file of the picture the camera took The negatives of digital cameras You see because when you print a picture from that file it’s the best it will ever be Every detail captured in that moment stored in bits and bytes ready If you make a copy of that picture it will never be as good And if you make a copy of that copy it’ll be even worse And if you were to make a copy of the hundredth copy of the ninety ninth copy you might not even recognize the image Whether it’s a speck of dust on the scanner Or a crease in the print out Sun stains from prolonged exposure to the elements Or simply from time Copies never look as good as the original Even if you try and protect them And even if you were to magically protect that photo from any external forces The next copy still won’t be the same quality A scanner can never pick up every detail from the print on the glass Copies of copies are never the same Sometimes the printer is calibrated different Sometimes it’s a heavy magenta day Sometimes it’s a saturated cyan day Maybe you touched her face when you handed it over And now every copy has a feint of your thumb print above her eyebrow You had him taped to your rearview mirror for a whole year And now every copy you make has a glare where the tape used to be It blocks out his heart shaped hands he was making you from the bus window Folded in your wallet and now all the copies have white spaces where her face was I mean where the creases were I’ve heard that when you remember something you are simply remembering the last time you remembered it Memories of memories So that after you’ve remembered her a thousand times you’ve forgotten all the details you forgot to remember the time before So that the more you remember something, the faster you’ll forget Maybe that’s why we forget exes faster than family Maybe that’s why we forget the great parts of high school before the painful ones I remember that you had red hair, that your eyes were kind, that your hands fit my cheek I remember that you were bad at pool and that it felt like love, and if it wasn’t you’re the only one that knew it And now I’m wondering after all these years what I’m forgetting to remember What I forgot to remember last time What did I forget this time What won’t I remember next time Memories of memories Like copies of copies Fading over time If I never wanted to forget the best moments of my life Should I never remember them Is the fastest way to forget the bad ones To remember them often
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Dec 17, 2015
Dec 17, 2015 at 11:46 PM UTC
Copies of Copies
Here at Kinkos We have a saying, “copies of copies” You are trained to always ask for a source file The digital file of the picture the camera took The negatives of digital cameras You see because when you print a picture from that file it’s the best it will ever be Every detail captured in that moment stored in bits and bytes ready If you make a copy of that picture it will never be as good And if you make a copy of that copy it’ll be even worse And if you were to make a copy of the hundredth copy of the ninety ninth copy you might not even recognize the image Whether it’s a speck of dust on the scanner Or a crease in the print out Sun stains from prolonged exposure to the elements Or simply from time Copies never look as good as the original Even if you try and protect them And even if you were to magically protect that photo from any external forces The next copy still won’t be the same quality A scanner can never pick up every detail from the print on the glass Copies of copies are never the same Sometimes the printer is calibrated different Sometimes it’s a heavy magenta day Sometimes it’s a saturated cyan day Maybe you touched her face when you handed it over And now every copy has a feint of your thumb print above her eyebrow You had him taped to your rearview mirror for a whole year And now every copy you make has a glare where the tape used to be It blocks out his heart shaped hands he was making you from the bus window Folded in your wallet and now all the copies have white spaces where her face was I mean where the creases were I’ve heard that when you remember something you are simply remembering the last time you remembered it Memories of memories So that after you’ve remembered her a thousand times you’ve forgotten all the details you forgot to remember the time before So that the more you remember something, the faster you’ll forget Maybe that’s why we forget exes faster than family Maybe that’s why we forget the great parts of high school before the painful ones I remember that you had red hair, that your eyes were kind, that your hands fit my cheek I remember that you were bad at pool and that it felt like love, and if it wasn’t you’re the only one that knew it And now I’m wondering after all these years what I’m forgetting to remember What I forgot to remember last time What did I forget this time What won’t I remember next time Memories of memories Like copies of copies Fading over time If I never wanted to forget the best moments of my life Should I never remember them Is the fastest way to forget the bad ones To remember them often
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49
Located in the prime location Precisely at the right spot. Squaring up the square Laid to measure on the map. Equal each side a cube stands Aligned to the column brimful every inch. What now? ‘Looking for a margin, Wide margin in the solid core.’ Like a human wants to turn up here From every corner every nook. The star splashes into its constellation Like the sun and the moon Love to wrap around here Through the fastest route! What now? ‘Everyone wants a margin Wide margin where it matters all It couldn’t be more brimful.
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Apr 4, 2017
Apr 4, 2017 at 5:38 PM UTC
Prime Location
A dizzy flake of snow falls, perfectly balanced, upon one outstretched finger's squat end. It clings tight for a second- a sticky, icy second where I hold with fragile care the weak sliver, and my breath. Yet, the next moment, only water my digit holds up. It melts away instantly with the dry warmth I supply, and I find that, always, all the delicate, pretty ones with exquisite tender grace burn out ever the fastest, first. So snowdrop kisses, on the frosty, red nip of my nose now only make me shiver. It's all just skin and ice, and more ice and skin. Peels of snow and chips of freeze make chilled my blood and glazed eyes.
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Jul 23, 2014
Jul 23, 2014 at 12:02 PM UTC
Snowflake
The shortest distance between two points of travel. The fastest method for achieving a result. Quickest answer for a resolution. Marrying equals.   All terminology meaning essentially the same thing; synthesis. That is what the two-party system is meant to be doing. It is the point of checks and balances. A check is a stopgap. A balance is a measure.   No one wants to ban personal firearms. No one wants mentally-ill people to own them. No one advocates violence by school teachers to assuage future potential violence. No reasonable person wants children to grow up in a police state school system. No American believes that State and Federal government can agree on what should be done in all states.   We will not be arming teachers. Nor will we be banning guns. There will never be armed guards at public schools. States and the Federal government disagree on so many levels there will never be consensus on change when it comes to this issue. So, change the issue in a way that offers a stopgap as a measure.   The President of The United States issues a proclamation that all land directly adjacent to the front of all public schools will be bought by the federal government at today's market price. That price will be fixed provided the states do two things. Use state eminent domain laws(every state already has them) to file a claim on said properties and assess the value thereof for the federal government.   Secondly, establish police precincts on said property.     Ask yourself; "How many children would die if the local police were directly across the street from the school at the time of the shooting?" And, "Would Conservatives or Liberals be against this proposal?"    Also, We should all remember that these shooters plan their attacks and would have to plan around the police being there immediately after they begin one.   Problem solved...                              ...and no one touched a gun(right) to do it.
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Feb 23, 2018
Feb 23, 2018 at 3:04 AM UTC
A Gun Essay
The shortest distance between two points of travel. The fastest method for achieving a result. Quickest answer for a resolution. Marrying equals.   All terminology meaning essentially the same thing; synthesis. That is what the two-party system is meant to be doing. It is the point of checks and balances. A check is a stopgap. A balance is a measure.   No one wants to ban personal firearms. No one wants mentally-ill people to own them. No one advocates violence by school teachers to assuage future potential violence. No reasonable person wants children to grow up in a police state school system. No American believes that State and Federal government can agree on what should be done in all states.   We will not be arming teachers. Nor will we be banning guns. There will never be armed guards at public schools. States and the Federal government disagree on so many levels there will never be consensus on change when it comes to this issue. So, change the issue in a way that offers a stopgap as a measure.   The President of The United States issues a proclamation that all land directly adjacent to the front of all public schools will be bought by the federal government at today's market price. That price will be fixed provided the states do two things. Use state eminent domain laws(every state already has them) to file a claim on said properties and assess the value thereof for the federal government.   Secondly, establish police precincts on said property.     Ask yourself; "How many children would die if the local police were directly across the street from the school at the time of the shooting?" And, "Would Conservatives or Liberals be against this proposal?"    Also, We should all remember that these shooters plan their attacks and would have to plan around the police being there immediately after they begin one.   Problem solved...                              ...and no one touched a gun(right) to do it.
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17
*/// When the time has returned Hearts can't go out from you Lost love seems to be a footprint Decayed stone is a sign of thy The last laugh The flute Putting forward the images of the day Today it has grown a big miss for the poet Spots at matches Someone calls the untimely I See You see Everything becoming change Slow Quick change You and me The Trees The Hills The River All Your restless mind Grew cold Even fastest cyclone Became cool Leaves fallen Grew again Spring came And moved away She came She sang Again she went away Never hold back Just left this footprint The last laugh The flute Putting forward the images of the day Today it has grown a big miss for the poet /// @ Musfiq us shaleheen*
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Dec 31, 2014
Dec 31, 2014 at 4:21 PM UTC
Footprint
there was a little horse he dreamed of having fame to win a big horse race where he could make his name he began to train and run around the course training everyday to be the fastest horse round and round he went preparing for his race with his little stop watch checking on his pace now the horse ready for his racing day soon what he had dreamed of would be underway he went down to the track to his starting stall waiting for the starter to give is starting call now the race was on horse he took the lead running like a train very fast indeed no one else could catch him he was far to fast racing on his own as the winning post  went past now he was a champ he had made his name the fastest horse alive in the hall of fame
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Mar 18, 2014
Mar 18, 2014 at 10:38 AM UTC
racehorse fame
Soda becomes ***** bikes become cars, kisses turn into *** Remember when dad's shoulders was the highest place on earth, your mom was your hero. Race issues was when who cloud run the fastest War was only a card game. The most pain you felt was when you skinned your knees. Goodbyes only meant till tomorrow, You and friends never worried about boys and girls, Falling in love and evolving into shattered hearts and fragile word that meant everything. Drama didn't exist. and we couldn't wait to grow up...
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Dec 24, 2012
Dec 24, 2012 at 1:49 PM UTC
Grown Ups
Of recent stories, i’m told our moon was the largest. i denied fact as truth, as is so often used. i wrote a report filled with errors only a universe could make and killed time for old time’s sake. but the buried limousines have somehow grown into trees where crows drink wine, and talk of future times where their only worry will be which way to glide to empty their minds. but talking to the doctor today, he was convinced of impeding biological holocaust - where bodies pile up as your vision is lost - and all along you were the fastest crook, spending money like time, and quicker than you took it. my vagrancy knows of great discord, the kind my mind mutates into a reward but the last vision of a dead knights sword is the exterior of the universe after all our inner wars. vapors collide in one last goodbye of both our love and time. i breathe your lips for one last eclipse and forget all the reasons why. we’ll meet again, on the run - towards the sun, but not with everyone. my mind goes blank with every breath of mine that you take
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Jan 9, 2012
Jan 9, 2012 at 11:09 PM UTC
drawing
koolaid days you and i we could stop time sugar and a smile broken glasses who can run the fastest ***** nights lost my fight sugar and a smile coffee is different as a child fast cars fast hearts sugar and a smile new drink don't blink i drink coffee now
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Feb 9, 2015
Feb 9, 2015 at 9:44 PM UTC
i drink coffee now
In the jungle of affairs cheaters run the fastest. The wind is left flustered. Dears turn to prey, their tales are now marred by pain. The starved and broken pick away The pieces of the heart that bleeds in vain, breeding dismay. Scarlet footprints on the road to heal again
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Apr 7, 2015
Apr 7, 2015 at 8:52 AM UTC
FAIR AFFAIRS?
She leaves a note in the morning after, signed with her name because he whispered the name of another woman while he was inside her. She leaves a note written in her bright red lipstick because he said it made her lips look like cherries, and her mother had taught her that the fastest road to a man’s heart is a good meal. She leaves the note in her lipstick because he didn’t compliment the dress she wore on her fragile body, the shoes she wore on her dainty feet, or the heart she wore on her sleeves; He complimented the lipstick she wore as a note written on his mirror; an instrument of multiplication, she had to face it all, and face it twice. Twice the bed frame, twice the sheets, twice his sleeping body, and twice her face. What she likes the most about the note is covering a part of the mirror, and a mirror is never a friend. He takes a leap of faith and jumps headstrong into a relationship that he knows will drown him. He was named a champion in the 2015 Olympiad for swimming; he lost his golden medal but the whiplash on his heart when he delved into the waters will always remind him how salty it tasted. He sinks into an abyss of intensity that he cannot dry out no matter how long he sits near the lonely candle next to Madonna’s portrait. He soaks in the glistening sunlight; water was never his friend. She brushes her hair every evening and every evening she reminds herself that she needs to brush off her family’s rejection. He trains everyday and every day he reminds himself that his heart is also a muscle. They do it in the dark because it’s easy to love another and scary to see yourself.
0
Aug 8, 2018
Aug 8, 2018 at 3:53 PM UTC
Pools and Mirrors
She leaves a note in the morning after, signed with her name because he whispered the name of another woman while he was inside her. She leaves a note written in her bright red lipstick because he said it made her lips look like cherries, and her mother had taught her that the fastest road to a man’s heart is a good meal. She leaves the note in her lipstick because he didn’t compliment the dress she wore on her fragile body, the shoes she wore on her dainty feet, or the heart she wore on her sleeves; He complimented the lipstick she wore as a note written on his mirror; an instrument of multiplication, she had to face it all, and face it twice. Twice the bed frame, twice the sheets, twice his sleeping body, and twice her face. What she likes the most about the note is covering a part of the mirror, and a mirror is never a friend. He takes a leap of faith and jumps headstrong into a relationship that he knows will drown him. He was named a champion in the 2015 Olympiad for swimming; he lost his golden medal but the whiplash on his heart when he delved into the waters will always remind him how salty it tasted. He sinks into an abyss of intensity that he cannot dry out no matter how long he sits near the lonely candle next to Madonna’s portrait. He soaks in the glistening sunlight; water was never his friend. She brushes her hair every evening and every evening she reminds herself that she needs to brush off her family’s rejection. He trains everyday and every day he reminds himself that his heart is also a muscle. They do it in the dark because it’s easy to love another and scary to see yourself.
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As a ginger, I'm inclined to say fox. I've always had an affinity for those cunning, red canines. But if it's just for a day then perhaps something a bit more adventurous. I suppose I would choose to be a cheetah. Fastest land animal in the world, agile, and speckled. Nobody messes with a cheetah. Not because they’re so hulking or intimidating— just more fascinating than terrifying. We travelled to South Africa once, my family and I. As a tribe we chased wild creatures down with cameras in jeeps in a raucous yet hushed thrill.   The cheetah was one of the few animals that eluded us. Perhaps having never seen one up close is partially what draws me to them.   Mysterious, as well as evasive, with an "I don't give a **** attitude. They only eat every so often because catching food is such a feat. When they do hunt however, it's one of the most spectacular things in the natural world. It's why places that sell tv's show footage of cheetahs running in slow motion over and over on a dizzying loop; demonstrating how clear the pixels are in the plasmas. It's mesmerizing. Their feet move too fast and fly over the dirt, honed in on whatever poor gazelle or kudu they're after. If you're a cheetah that is your body, your thin bones, your rapid heart and beating paws that make you move in such a blur. To be a cheetah for a day is feeling and knowing the difference between machine and muscle. Humans have found ways to fly, and people regularly move faster than a top speed of 75mph. But how sublime it would be! To be solely and purely responsible for that unparalleled speed just for one day.
0
Feb 16, 2016
Feb 16, 2016 at 6:18 PM UTC
To Be an Animal for a Day
As a ginger, I'm inclined to say fox. I've always had an affinity for those cunning, red canines. But if it's just for a day then perhaps something a bit more adventurous. I suppose I would choose to be a cheetah. Fastest land animal in the world, agile, and speckled. Nobody messes with a cheetah. Not because they’re so hulking or intimidating— just more fascinating than terrifying. We travelled to South Africa once, my family and I. As a tribe we chased wild creatures down with cameras in jeeps in a raucous yet hushed thrill.   The cheetah was one of the few animals that eluded us. Perhaps having never seen one up close is partially what draws me to them.   Mysterious, as well as evasive, with an "I don't give a **** attitude. They only eat every so often because catching food is such a feat. When they do hunt however, it's one of the most spectacular things in the natural world. It's why places that sell tv's show footage of cheetahs running in slow motion over and over on a dizzying loop; demonstrating how clear the pixels are in the plasmas. It's mesmerizing. Their feet move too fast and fly over the dirt, honed in on whatever poor gazelle or kudu they're after. If you're a cheetah that is your body, your thin bones, your rapid heart and beating paws that make you move in such a blur. To be a cheetah for a day is feeling and knowing the difference between machine and muscle. Humans have found ways to fly, and people regularly move faster than a top speed of 75mph. But how sublime it would be! To be solely and purely responsible for that unparalleled speed just for one day.
Continue reading...
13