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"flagons" poems
128 Bring me the sunset in a cup, Reckon the morning’s flagons up And say how many Dew, Tell me how far the morning leaps— Tell me what time the weaver sleeps Who spun the breadth of blue! Write me how many notes there be In the new Robin’s ecstasy Among astonished boughs— How many trips the Tortoise makes— How many cups the Bee partakes, The Debauchee of Dews! Also, who laid the Rainbow’s piers, Also, who leads the docile spheres By withes of supple blue? Whose fingers string the stalactite— Who counts the wampum of the night To see that none is due? Who built this little Alban House And shut the windows down so close My spirit cannot see? Who’ll let me out some gala day With implements to fly away, Passing Pomposity?
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Bring me the sunset in a cup
Whose women these are I think I know. His housefly’s dead on the vignette though; He will not see me stopping here To watch his women pick snowdrops. My little hornpipe is quite queer He stops without a farce or sneer Between the women with their frozen ‘la’s The commonest everyman of the yawl. He gives his harlot beldams his shaft To assure they are his mistresses. The only other soundtrack's the sweat Of easy win from downing flagons. The women are lovely, dark and deep. But I have promenades to keep, And migraines to go before I sleep, And migraines to go before I sleep.
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Nov 4, 2012
Nov 4, 2012 at 9:54 PM UTC
Stopping by Women Owned by the Everyman
This Prince was handsome to the extreme. He had definite movie star looks That is if movies had been invented back all those centuries ago. She was the most beautiful princess in all the kingdom. He could not think of anything other but to make her his bride. So he set forth on his quest of the heart. But when he rode up to her castle though the haunted forest of whispers. across the river of doom and the desert of the dragons. he arrived at her door and proposed marriage to her she said No way! Apparently, she hated men and in fact, had a strong penchant for girls herself. Not one to dwell on the mysteries of a woman's heart, the prince said to himself fucketh her. And he turned to a life of bachelorhood. Never ever to marry. He bought a Harley Chopper Dated pretty cheerleaders and slim models with full bosoms. And he never once caught his wife in bed with some guy like his married friends did. when he got home unexpectldy all was as it should be, He took up hunting and fishing with his buddies. raced sports cars at high speed. spending lonely nights at ***** bars drinking double malt whiskey and the finest flagons of ale. he never heard of ******** or a ******* honey-do list. Nor did he ever get hit for child support or alimony. He kept his castle and his beloved gun collection And was as rich as blazes. HE lived on a diet of fried food bacon and eggs with sausages and beans Hot chicken wings and tacos. snacking on potato chips and gassy pop. a diet that caused him to blow enormous loud farts which made him a revered legend amongst his cronies. who all thought he was as cool as hell. He had loads of money in the bank And not once in his life did he ever put the toilet seat down. And he lived happily ever after The End Goodnight Children all go. To sleep Sweet dreams.
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Jul 25, 2018
Jul 25, 2018 at 4:23 AM UTC
The single prince ...a fairy tale for adults
This Prince was handsome to the extreme. He had definite movie star looks That is if movies had been invented back all those centuries ago. She was the most beautiful princess in all the kingdom. He could not think of anything other but to make her his bride. So he set forth on his quest of the heart. But when he rode up to her castle though the haunted forest of whispers. across the river of doom and the desert of the dragons. he arrived at her door and proposed marriage to her she said No way! Apparently, she hated men and in fact, had a strong penchant for girls herself. Not one to dwell on the mysteries of a woman's heart, the prince said to himself fucketh her. And he turned to a life of bachelorhood. Never ever to marry. He bought a Harley Chopper Dated pretty cheerleaders and slim models with full bosoms. And he never once caught his wife in bed with some guy like his married friends did. when he got home unexpectldy all was as it should be, He took up hunting and fishing with his buddies. raced sports cars at high speed. spending lonely nights at ***** bars drinking double malt whiskey and the finest flagons of ale. he never heard of ******** or a ******* honey-do list. Nor did he ever get hit for child support or alimony. He kept his castle and his beloved gun collection And was as rich as blazes. HE lived on a diet of fried food bacon and eggs with sausages and beans Hot chicken wings and tacos. snacking on potato chips and gassy pop. a diet that caused him to blow enormous loud farts which made him a revered legend amongst his cronies. who all thought he was as cool as hell. He had loads of money in the bank And not once in his life did he ever put the toilet seat down. And he lived happily ever after The End Goodnight Children all go. To sleep Sweet dreams.
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62
A maidenly form with goodly balcony: Chic design of an unrivalled Architect. Finely balusters decorate her dreamy Shape--especial from fore to aft. As the Shulamite's apples in Solomon's Pleasing courtyard is her love in my Heart, exchanging thus my flagons With her berries on the bed of sapphire, Until dawn choruses enter the day's ear-- Heaven's chandelier beams into the bower.
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Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 10:22 AM UTC
Berries for Flagons
73 Who never lost, are unprepared A Coronet to find! Who never thirsted Flagons, and Cooling Tamarind! Who never climbed the weary league— Can such a foot explore The purple territories On Pizarro’s shore? How many Legions overcome— The Emperor will say? How many Colors taken On Revolution Day? How many Bullets bearest? Hast Thou the Royal scar? Angels! Write “Promoted” On this Soldier’s brow!
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Who never lost, are unprepared
121 As Watchers hang upon the East, As Beggars revel at a feast By savory Fancy spread— As brooks in deserts babble sweet On ear too far for the delight, Heaven beguiles the tired. As that same watcher, when the East Opens the lid of Amethyst And lets the morning go— That Beggar, when an honored Guest, Those thirsty lips to flagons pressed, Heaven to us, if true.
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As Watchers hang upon the East
Taking two words to describe yourself You just smiled "Annie Hall" I had only seen Manhatten but somehow Knew, knew how hard i'd fall As for my turn Well you just placed a finger on my lips And then so softly whispered Sentimental boy That was then, as for now Maybe the final credits have rolled Our picturehouse now in ruins No more screenings nor stories to be told Like that derelict Ballroom of Romance We visited at the edge of town Summer nights, flagons of cider and your   Sentimental boy Recreating it's history By it's broken down and boarded up wall Slow dancing in the moonlight Stopping only to swear we'd heard a call Rising from the paupers graveyard Dancing silhouetted in the stars Ghosts of dead lovers to an old fashioned tune Sentimental boy This town now has changed so much But none so more than we Yet so often on a warm summers night By that paupers graveyard you'd still meet me Humming some half remembered melody Whilst wishing on the brightest star Please oh please, won't you just let me be....                                                                      your                                                 sentimental boy
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Jan 23, 2017
Jan 23, 2017 at 12:57 PM UTC
Sentimental boy
230 We—Bee and I—live by the quaffing— ’Tisn’t all Hock—with us— Life has its Ale— But it’s many a lay of the Dim Burgundy— We chant—for cheer—when the Wines—fail— Do we “get drunk”? Ask the jolly Clovers! Do we “beat” our “Wife”? I—never wed— Bee—pledges his—in minute flagons— Dainty—as the trees—on our deft Head— While runs the Rhine— He and I—revel— First—at the vat—and latest at the Vine— Noon—our last Cup— “Found dead”—”of Nectar”— By a humming Coroner— In a By-Thyme!
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We—Bee and I—live by the quaffing
Mauve and purples, flecked by light green, the upside-down steeples, are visited by the courtiers, who enjoy communion over flagons of nectar, and who have many rooms to visit, this is their shimmering palace, swaying lightly in the breeze
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Dec 7, 2016
Dec 7, 2016 at 2:01 AM UTC
Wisteria Palace
When I was a little tot I wished to be Sir Lancelot I leapt and pranced And danced all day I slayed great dragons And drank from flagons Passing the time away As if I were a knight at play Yes, I wished I was Sir Lancelot But alas, one day I learned that I am not The great Sir Lancelot
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Jun 11, 2012
Jun 11, 2012 at 12:31 PM UTC
Sir Lancelot
After a quest spent moralizing his point all the way home After leaving lance, buckler, and steed at the door After a few hefty flagons of old school mead A Sir Lancelot turns to an empty bar stool And decrees: Whether ***** or damsel It matters not to me. Luckily I never have to choose. They’re similar ***** you see. Coins or courage to open The velvet doors between legs. Towers of ****** Which isn’t saying Only ****** reside in towers Just why the ones I free? Oh bards sing unto me A song fit for my misery. For no one’s figured the secret That it’s only the armor they need to see.
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Jul 30, 2013
Jul 30, 2013 at 8:53 PM UTC
No good knights or perfect worlds
The Single Prince------ a fairy tale for adults ---By Jude Kyrie He was handsome to the extreme. Definite movie star looks if movies had been invented back all those centuries ago. She was the most beautiful princess in all the kingdom. He could not think of anything but to make her his bride. So he set forth on his quest of the heart. But when he rode up to her castle through the haunted forest of whispers. across the river of doom and the desert of the dragons. he arrived at her door and proposed marriage to her she said No way!Apparently, she hated men and in fact, had a strong penchant for girls herself. Not one to dwell on the mysteries of a woman's heart, the prince said fucketh her. And turned to a life of bachelorhood. He bought a Harley Chopper Dated pretty cheerleaders and slim models with full bosoms. and never once caught his wife in bed with some guy when he got home unexpectedly He took up hunting and fishing with his buddies. raced sports cars at high speed. spending lonely nights at ***** bars drinking double malt whiskey and the finest flagons of ale. he never heard of ******** or a ******* honey-do list. Nor did he ever get hit for child support or alimony. He kept his castle and his beloved gun collection and lived on a diet of fried food bacon and eggs with sausages and beans snacking on potato chips. a diet that caused him to blow enormous loud farts which made him a legend amongst his cronies. who all thought he was as cool as hell. He had loads of money in the bank And not once in his life did he ever put the toilet seat down. And he lived happily ever after The End
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Dec 30, 2017
Dec 30, 2017 at 6:35 PM UTC
The Single Prince--a fairytale for adults by Jude Kyrie
The Single Prince------ a fairy tale for adults ---By Jude Kyrie He was handsome to the extreme. Definite movie star looks if movies had been invented back all those centuries ago. She was the most beautiful princess in all the kingdom. He could not think of anything but to make her his bride. So he set forth on his quest of the heart. But when he rode up to her castle through the haunted forest of whispers. across the river of doom and the desert of the dragons. he arrived at her door and proposed marriage to her she said No way!Apparently, she hated men and in fact, had a strong penchant for girls herself. Not one to dwell on the mysteries of a woman's heart, the prince said fucketh her. And turned to a life of bachelorhood. He bought a Harley Chopper Dated pretty cheerleaders and slim models with full bosoms. and never once caught his wife in bed with some guy when he got home unexpectedly He took up hunting and fishing with his buddies. raced sports cars at high speed. spending lonely nights at ***** bars drinking double malt whiskey and the finest flagons of ale. he never heard of ******** or a ******* honey-do list. Nor did he ever get hit for child support or alimony. He kept his castle and his beloved gun collection and lived on a diet of fried food bacon and eggs with sausages and beans snacking on potato chips. a diet that caused him to blow enormous loud farts which made him a legend amongst his cronies. who all thought he was as cool as hell. He had loads of money in the bank And not once in his life did he ever put the toilet seat down. And he lived happily ever after The End
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55
Dungeons and dragons Fairies and flagons Through thick and thin With a tear or grin By brothers and sisters of war To go on adventures galore To use the mind to an extravagant degree Is what I see to be truly free Whether it be cards or dice, pen and paper, It matters not when, it matters not where We are the masters of our destiny To a certain degree (As long as it's within the DM's decree) Here we are, flung into fantasy It matters not the opinions of the narrow-minded We do not change no matter what is said Deck in my left and dice in my right Behind me an adventure to pass the night In front of me, a world to explore As I shout proudly "I AM A NERD FOREVER MORE!"
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Nov 15, 2017
Nov 15, 2017 at 8:35 PM UTC
NERDS
No nettles within the gardens, No ¹needles within the haystacks. Who made for them new navels And showered with salted-wine what would not leave us. Who thrushed through every grain of every chaff, Picking out & crushing that which was rotten. We who made the meadows free! Who liberated they who were encased in ²amber; Rain, Lightning, Thunder. Who slayed the ³Fearsome Hydra. Slew the ⁴Slithering Gorgon. They who silenced the speaking weeds And the whispering flagons. Companions of the ⁵Dragon. Who caused the Titans to bleed. Who stitched the wound, Who cauterized it, Who bandaged it. The first of us to understand, What was the seed.
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Jul 9, 2025
Jul 9, 2025 at 1:30 PM UTC
Gaia, Kronos, Uranus; Asclepius, Orpheus, Gordias
He stops his feelings. They ******* his beams of light. "Pretend", he exclaims, "just pretend." That the children have not gone, or that his marriage fell apart. "I will not be a spectre of fallen expectations." he moans to the skies. Groaning tissues mutate into flagons of bitter brew. Next comes the message. "I will not hear it." He is firm in his plan. Determined in his goals. A man is a man if he provides the guise of strength. Who has ordained this? Broken eggshells scattered about him. His testament, his truth. "Am I forgiven?" he asks in bewilderment. Forgiven by friends, and family, for every transgression completed. Backwards are fables mingled with lost causes. Resentments. Forward is amphibious, not negotiable, set in iron. "I will stay forever travelling in the stars above my head." This his proclamation. Now he can rest in peace.
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Apr 13, 2016
Apr 13, 2016 at 10:45 AM UTC
As The Man Travels In The Stars Above His Head
I look into the well at depth and see some branches burning the thin and small they flare so bright the sparks do fly to my delight but quickly pass as day to night cinders to glow and smoke to flow ere all their ashes fall I look into the well and see the body of a once great tree that fell to such a dismal depth it's witnessed by a single star that's up above so very far where broken limbs once heaven sought now watch their children die I look into the well to peer at days to pass when embers fade and vision passes into shade that grows into the darkest night yet keeping watch yon single star which watches which, is it the well through which the denizens of hell are yearning? I look into the well and sigh dare I to meet them eye to eye and guess upon a moot to meet should I not bring something to eat perhaps some wine to satisfy the red of course, flagons for all each lowered by a silken thread to honor fates which may prevail so therein rests our tale
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Jun 29, 2015
Jun 29, 2015 at 6:21 PM UTC
Full Course
* Once upon a time, there lived a cocky young noble, Who'd committed no crime yet hid many a foible. Wherever he rode he'd arrive in the dandiest style, Charmingly he strode and imagined the ladies beguiled. He traveled the land in search of high adventure, Codpiece in hand he was besotted nigh treasure. Never were any dragons slain nor demons defeated, Only empty flagons lay fallen where our hero retreated. He found love unsought, as fools tend to do, Spellbound by the thought that she loved him too. Their storied romance grew as the long seasons passed, However, soon they both knew their song would not last. Trouble stormed their keep, drawn steel in the night, And she was stabbed deep by her beloved in his fright. The princess did strive though she eventually succame, Spirited away for her life whilst he cried out her name. Days became months and months became years, yet no word arrived, Whilst our young hero drowned sour tears and feared that she'd died. Dour doldrums spurred our knight to stand a little braver, And so with long-suffering sighs, he sauntered forth to save her. Briars and bogs he did cross and the dark forest he did pass, Battling the dread of her loss our desperate knight espied her at last. With beleaguered head ringing, he worried she'd been mistreated, Yet he found her laughing and singing, did she not feel as he did? Crestfallen he reached out to his love in his woe and his fear, Firmly she gave him a shove and looked away with a sneer. She claimed her contentment, and bade him leave without quarrel, So with shame and resentment, he was gone come the morrow. He still sorrowfully sings and mournfully pines, our hero apparent, And thanks you for sparing these wee lines, for one lonely knight-errant.
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Jun 14, 2024
Jun 14, 2024 at 2:44 AM UTC
The Knight-Errant
* Once upon a time, there lived a cocky young noble, Who'd committed no crime yet hid many a foible. Wherever he rode he'd arrive in the dandiest style, Charmingly he strode and imagined the ladies beguiled. He traveled the land in search of high adventure, Codpiece in hand he was besotted nigh treasure. Never were any dragons slain nor demons defeated, Only empty flagons lay fallen where our hero retreated. He found love unsought, as fools tend to do, Spellbound by the thought that she loved him too. Their storied romance grew as the long seasons passed, However, soon they both knew their song would not last. Trouble stormed their keep, drawn steel in the night, And she was stabbed deep by her beloved in his fright. The princess did strive though she eventually succame, Spirited away for her life whilst he cried out her name. Days became months and months became years, yet no word arrived, Whilst our young hero drowned sour tears and feared that she'd died. Dour doldrums spurred our knight to stand a little braver, And so with long-suffering sighs, he sauntered forth to save her. Briars and bogs he did cross and the dark forest he did pass, Battling the dread of her loss our desperate knight espied her at last. With beleaguered head ringing, he worried she'd been mistreated, Yet he found her laughing and singing, did she not feel as he did? Crestfallen he reached out to his love in his woe and his fear, Firmly she gave him a shove and looked away with a sneer. She claimed her contentment, and bade him leave without quarrel, So with shame and resentment, he was gone come the morrow. He still sorrowfully sings and mournfully pines, our hero apparent, And thanks you for sparing these wee lines, for one lonely knight-errant.
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31
Harriet slept to colonize time and space with her chrysanthemums and cardamon irises tacked to a wall behind a lens in her eye rapidly moving through a slumber quest to pillage the invisible with her wisp of might to glean the terrace of lost chambers of gnostic grog in flagons of hubris, spuming at the spicet of a dervish star in a barrel. Then she makes breakfast.
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Sep 2, 2022
Sep 2, 2022 at 11:16 PM UTC
Harriet