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"flared" poems
i. Happy birthday To thee, dearest Friend. Mayest This remembrance of birth Be another year for thou To thinkest of none end's; But a brighter tommorrow. ii. Resteth gal sarah, Put away all of Thine sorrow's, Didst thou not Knoweth; there's A God who breaketh The alshshayatin Who cometh against Thee. iii. Thou art not alone, As me and mine Jane Art alway's there to Be, a friend in need. Growing seed's, to Help-another grow. iv. Mayest the morrow Be for thou, as white As snow; mayest the Seraphim, who surround's Thy worries and protects Thy home, showeth Thee the light above thine tear's. Smile mine friend, a friend is here. Mayest thy sight be clear, and thy crown Be uplifted and flared. As the world's glare Hast betrayed thine eye's. Observeth upward Wherein paradise lies; as thou wilt hath wing's one day O' laureate of poetry's net. O' brilliant friend; of Jane and mine. ©Brandon Nagley ©Lonesome poet's poetry ©Thepoet(Sarah Ahmed) birthday dedication. Sorry Sarah day late on b day dedication... But a happy wonderful birthday from me a friend if you ever need one there as you have always been there for me and Jane and have always been a major blessing to me and Jane!!! May the heavens open to you, and may you overcome your battles you face in this world... HAPPY BIRTHDAY poetic friend !!!!
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Feb 14, 2016
Feb 14, 2016 at 7:32 PM UTC
عيد ميلاد أحد الأصدقاء ( A friend's birthday) arabic tongue - birthday dedication to Thepoet ( Sarah Ahmed)
Sinking To a familiar imprint in the sand Salt traffic jams Shark teeth and flared nostrils Fingers numb Curled around the trigger Cannot let go. But through the noise Ripples Quadratic equations I see a blurred sunset It feels like the day we first met.
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Jul 2, 2013
Jul 2, 2013 at 12:54 AM UTC
Distortion
Swollen clouds of passion once crashed across my face and Fires flared from friction everywhere your lips did trace our Chilly fingers sought their shelter deep in the spaces inbetween But these spaces,        now            so              spacious have wicked the warmth from what I mean And I, the only audience to your absence, unable to exist For you stole from me my reason; the anticipation of your kiss.
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Oct 21, 2016
Oct 21, 2016 at 3:35 PM UTC
The Anticipation of Your Kiss
the child recieves his paper ****** backward by the one in front flip the three pages flippantly one : intimidating . . two : boring the third adorned unexpectedly a longer -than seems can be usually- grown hair with a clump of green root sprung out and slaughtered, down across the width; stuck above the questions beneath how could he not have seen? a pile so viscous and obscene? does everyone else have one??? are they holding their disgust beneath? he looked up at the teacher. A look of vigilance his face bequeathed. B  ut now it sprung out almost pus like a faint smile,         a teachers calm reprieve he then leaned back on his chair in comfort drooping his head back his nostrils flared now toward the child the hairs brustling from inside, all locked up in a ***** days remnants all foul            and long and dehydrated     like a swamp now sunned crisp; reeds on a stale bank drawn in he felt uneasy unable to cease to stare incased inside the world that spawned in the swamp that lay up there in the cavernous orifices there then he saw the teachers eyes, his gaze it stuck on him, the teacher began to grin further back his head leant his eyes jaundiced his teeth tanned his face pale his grin outstretched and thin
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Oct 17, 2013
Oct 17, 2013 at 6:38 AM UTC
nose
How long will our bewildered heirs marooned in possessions not theirs puzzle at disposing of these three cunning feignings of hard candy in glass- the striped little pillowlike mock-sweets, the flared end-twists as of transparent paper? No clue will be attached, no trace of the sunny day of their purchase, at a glittering shop a few doors up from Harry's Bar, a disappointing place for all its testaments from Hemingway. The Grand Canal was also aglitter while the lesser canals lay in the shade like snakes, flicking wet tongues and gliding to green rendezvous. The immaculate salesgirl, in her aloof Italian succulence, sized us up, a middle-aged American couple, as unserious shoppers who, still half jet-lagged, would cling to their lire in the face of any enchanted vase or ethereal wineglass that might shatter in the luggage going home. Yet we wanted something, something small .... This? No ... How much is ten thousand? Dizzy, at last we decided. She wrapped the three glass candies, the cheapest items in the shop, with a showy care worthy of crown jewels-tissue, tape, and tissue again sprang up beneath her blood-red fingernails, plus a jack-in-the-box-shaped paper bag adorned with harlequin lozenges, sad though she surely was, on her feet waiting all day for a wild rich Arab, a compulsive Japanese. Grazie, signor ... grazie, signora ... ciao. Nor will our thing-weary heirs decipher the little repair, the reattached triangle of glass from the paper-imitating end-twist, its mending a labor of love in the cellar, by winter light, by the man of the house, mixing transparent epoxy and rigging a clever small clamp as if to keep intact the time that we, alive, had spent in the feathery bed at the Europa e Regina.
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4.5k
Venetian Candy
How long will our bewildered heirs marooned in possessions not theirs puzzle at disposing of these three cunning feignings of hard candy in glass- the striped little pillowlike mock-sweets, the flared end-twists as of transparent paper? No clue will be attached, no trace of the sunny day of their purchase, at a glittering shop a few doors up from Harry's Bar, a disappointing place for all its testaments from Hemingway. The Grand Canal was also aglitter while the lesser canals lay in the shade like snakes, flicking wet tongues and gliding to green rendezvous. The immaculate salesgirl, in her aloof Italian succulence, sized us up, a middle-aged American couple, as unserious shoppers who, still half jet-lagged, would cling to their lire in the face of any enchanted vase or ethereal wineglass that might shatter in the luggage going home. Yet we wanted something, something small .... This? No ... How much is ten thousand? Dizzy, at last we decided. She wrapped the three glass candies, the cheapest items in the shop, with a showy care worthy of crown jewels-tissue, tape, and tissue again sprang up beneath her blood-red fingernails, plus a jack-in-the-box-shaped paper bag adorned with harlequin lozenges, sad though she surely was, on her feet waiting all day for a wild rich Arab, a compulsive Japanese. Grazie, signor ... grazie, signora ... ciao. Nor will our thing-weary heirs decipher the little repair, the reattached triangle of glass from the paper-imitating end-twist, its mending a labor of love in the cellar, by winter light, by the man of the house, mixing transparent epoxy and rigging a clever small clamp as if to keep intact the time that we, alive, had spent in the feathery bed at the Europa e Regina.
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46
A city to be proud of are nick name is Scousers Do you remember The Beatles in flared trousers The Soccer and songs of “You Never Walk Alone” So many songs include “In My Liverpool home” Two great Cathedrals that light up in the night And John Lennon airport where you catch a flight With two big soccer clubs there is intense rivalry But when it’s all over there is plenty of camaraderie It’s a city of culture with museums and History It’s my Liverpool home, where i'm proud to be   David Swinden © 6/1/2017
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Jan 6, 2017
Jan 6, 2017 at 1:42 PM UTC
Liverpool
Out of the dark forest I stumbled onto the pebbles of a moonlit lake my languid eyes bumbled swallowing down philter mistakes a pale goddess in the flesh how my stupefied eyes stared at the beauty of her nakedness something in me flared flared and turned and burned my flesh no longer mine stag in form standing taciturn she calls out for my canines I run and try to yell nothing escapes my lungs pattering of legs hungry to quell come to rip flesh with teeth and tongues stumbling and tripping over stones, limbs, roots and mud left to a new life a stag rover I hear the ******* and the studs faster and faster I try to move from this typhoon wave of carnivorous hounds but curse these feeble hooves the claws and teeth came crashing around flesh stabbed with a thousand teeth a pack of mouths tear and pull a stag corpse I bequeath   to the hunger of my own wolves
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Aug 16, 2018
Aug 16, 2018 at 2:07 PM UTC
Actaeon the Stag
In Đà Nẵng my friends cradled me like a child. We screamed Taylor bridges, tequila-toasted in bars until the lights blurred. A single candle in the bathroom danced warm sighs through open windows, and all felt calm. I grew new muscles balancing on a motorcycle, sometimes gripping Harry’s jacket, sometimes throwing my weight into the wind. The city flared neon and gasoline in stuttered traffic, but along the coast he drove so fast the vibrations in my chest harmonized. I pictured my bones becoming butterflies if I let go. I had entered the Year of the Dragon on a futon, swayed to half-sleep by a hundred chanting voices from the temple next door. I did not dream of dragons. I only learned to breathe fire. At midnight Bailey stood at an ancestral altar, kumquat branches, apricot blossoms, red envelopes, wine, burning full sticks of incense, and smoking half a pack of Esse Lights. This is how the year turns over safely. Tết is not about faith; it’s about continuity. The Year of the Snake slid in with new bones and old habits. It hissed that suffering could be scripture until letters slithered free from the page and coiled like cold jewelry around my wrist. I didn’t make it for Tết that year no silk áo dài, blood orange, too big for a body that learned shrinking before it learned staying. That was the shedding. Salt water peeling old skin away, songs shouted so loud they drowned the ache, poems that did not start tragic, nights when my body finally kept time with the moon. At home the water did not move. At home the dog’s teeth found my hope. A terrified mouth rerouted rivers through my soft parts. A jewel carved from my nose. Six punctures blooming across my arms like altars. In Vietnamese stories the snake waits beneath the water to claim whoever dares the bank. I wonder if I was chosen the moment I opened my mouth in those bars, when I leaned into the bike’s curve as if danger could be a swan song. Now I lie awake at hours unnamed, tracing scars that hiss answers back. Something from Vietnam keeps breathing through me, the candle’s heat, the coast’s long nerve, voices braided into salt and night, and I cannot tell if they are echoes or fangs testing the dark. They say snakes shed to grow, but no one warns you how thin the new skin feels, how everything burns against it, how you mistake survival for prophecy. I touch the scar and wonder if I am still that girl clinging to the bike, or if the snake has already swallowed me, patient, sleepless, feeding on my own venom.
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Sep 11, 2025
Sep 11, 2025 at 1:24 PM UTC
The Year of the Snake
In Đà Nẵng my friends cradled me like a child. We screamed Taylor bridges, tequila-toasted in bars until the lights blurred. A single candle in the bathroom danced warm sighs through open windows, and all felt calm. I grew new muscles balancing on a motorcycle, sometimes gripping Harry’s jacket, sometimes throwing my weight into the wind. The city flared neon and gasoline in stuttered traffic, but along the coast he drove so fast the vibrations in my chest harmonized. I pictured my bones becoming butterflies if I let go. I had entered the Year of the Dragon on a futon, swayed to half-sleep by a hundred chanting voices from the temple next door. I did not dream of dragons. I only learned to breathe fire. At midnight Bailey stood at an ancestral altar, kumquat branches, apricot blossoms, red envelopes, wine, burning full sticks of incense, and smoking half a pack of Esse Lights. This is how the year turns over safely. Tết is not about faith; it’s about continuity. The Year of the Snake slid in with new bones and old habits. It hissed that suffering could be scripture until letters slithered free from the page and coiled like cold jewelry around my wrist. I didn’t make it for Tết that year no silk áo dài, blood orange, too big for a body that learned shrinking before it learned staying. That was the shedding. Salt water peeling old skin away, songs shouted so loud they drowned the ache, poems that did not start tragic, nights when my body finally kept time with the moon. At home the water did not move. At home the dog’s teeth found my hope. A terrified mouth rerouted rivers through my soft parts. A jewel carved from my nose. Six punctures blooming across my arms like altars. In Vietnamese stories the snake waits beneath the water to claim whoever dares the bank. I wonder if I was chosen the moment I opened my mouth in those bars, when I leaned into the bike’s curve as if danger could be a swan song. Now I lie awake at hours unnamed, tracing scars that hiss answers back. Something from Vietnam keeps breathing through me, the candle’s heat, the coast’s long nerve, voices braided into salt and night, and I cannot tell if they are echoes or fangs testing the dark. They say snakes shed to grow, but no one warns you how thin the new skin feels, how everything burns against it, how you mistake survival for prophecy. I touch the scar and wonder if I am still that girl clinging to the bike, or if the snake has already swallowed me, patient, sleepless, feeding on my own venom.
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65
We sat, ******* the shreds Of chicken From our teeth, In a cloud of smoke From tempers flared That burned to the quick. The record spun, The needle stuck In the endless Circle groove At the disc's Center, but Neither of us Moved. We didn't change The record, We didn't Shut the Player off. We sat, And watched our Fingers and toes Evaporate. We looked on As the Room dissolved, We made no pleas, Or any noise at all As our world Was erased. In the eggshell light Of our rebirth The seasons passed, With no attention Paid, like Sudanese children, Left to collect sunlight In the pores of their flesh, Are ignored By their God. The air was a sea Of vibrations, Writhing and alive In the periphery Of our perceptions. Do you remember How it felt to Be reconstructed? Cell by cell We came together, Our blood vessels And lymphatic tunnels Wove through Tendrils of bone And wisps of ***** tissue, Our nerves snaked Their way through The jungle of our New-found existence, A supercomputer Materialized within Each of us, And they began Discovering themselves And each other. We had arrived prematurely, And our flames Were snuffed out In the claustrophobic Incubators. Here we now sit, White noise Filling the void, Waiting for Something we'll Never see Come to be, But can't avoid.
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Oct 26, 2012
Oct 26, 2012 at 11:54 PM UTC
--Leather Tomato--
Brigid was born on a flax mill farm, Near the Cavan border, in Monaghan, At Lough Egish on the Carrick Road, The last child of the Sheridans. The sluice still runs near the water wheel, With thistles thriving on rusted steel. Little's known of Nellie's early years; Da died before she knew grieving tears, They'd turn her eyes in later years. She's eleven posing with her class, This photo shows an Irish lass. Her look is distant, Her face is blurred, But recognizable In an instant. She was schooled six years To last a life, Some math, the Irish, To read and write. Her Mammy grew ill, She lost a leg, And bit by bit, By age sixteen, Nellie buried her first dead. Too young to be alone, Sisters and brother had left the home. The cloistered convent took her in, She taught urchins and orphans About God and Grace and sin. There were no vows for Nellie then. At nineteen she met a Creamery man, Jim Lynch of the Cavan clan; He delivered dairy from his lorry, Married Nellie, Relieved their worry. War flared, men were few, There was work in Coventry. Ireland's thistles were left to bloom. Nellie soon was Michael's Mammy, Then Maura, Sheila and Kevin followed, When war floundered to its end, They shipped back to Monaghan, And brought the mill to life again. The thistles and weeds That surrounded the mill, Were scythed and scattered By Daddy's zeal. He built himself A generator, Providing power To lights and wheel. Sean was born, Gerald soon followed; Then Michael died. A nine year old, His Daddy's angel. Is this what turns A father strange? Francie arrived, Then Eucheria, But ten months later Bold death took her. Grief knows no borders For brothers and sisters. We left for Canada. Mammy brought six kids along, Leaving her dead behind, Buried with Ireland. Daddy was waiting for family, Six months before Mammy got free From death's inhumanity. Her tears and griefs weren't yet over, She birthed another son and daughter; Jimmy and Marlene left us too, Death is sure, Death is cruel. Grandchildren came, she was Granny, Bridget, Nellie, but still our Mammy. She lived this life eduring pain That mothers bear, Mothers sustain. And yet, in times of personal strain, I'll sometimes whisper her one name, Mammy.
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Feb 12, 2016
Feb 12, 2016 at 5:09 PM UTC
Her Many Names
Brigid was born on a flax mill farm, Near the Cavan border, in Monaghan, At Lough Egish on the Carrick Road, The last child of the Sheridans. The sluice still runs near the water wheel, With thistles thriving on rusted steel. Little's known of Nellie's early years; Da died before she knew grieving tears, They'd turn her eyes in later years. She's eleven posing with her class, This photo shows an Irish lass. Her look is distant, Her face is blurred, But recognizable In an instant. She was schooled six years To last a life, Some math, the Irish, To read and write. Her Mammy grew ill, She lost a leg, And bit by bit, By age sixteen, Nellie buried her first dead. Too young to be alone, Sisters and brother had left the home. The cloistered convent took her in, She taught urchins and orphans About God and Grace and sin. There were no vows for Nellie then. At nineteen she met a Creamery man, Jim Lynch of the Cavan clan; He delivered dairy from his lorry, Married Nellie, Relieved their worry. War flared, men were few, There was work in Coventry. Ireland's thistles were left to bloom. Nellie soon was Michael's Mammy, Then Maura, Sheila and Kevin followed, When war floundered to its end, They shipped back to Monaghan, And brought the mill to life again. The thistles and weeds That surrounded the mill, Were scythed and scattered By Daddy's zeal. He built himself A generator, Providing power To lights and wheel. Sean was born, Gerald soon followed; Then Michael died. A nine year old, His Daddy's angel. Is this what turns A father strange? Francie arrived, Then Eucheria, But ten months later Bold death took her. Grief knows no borders For brothers and sisters. We left for Canada. Mammy brought six kids along, Leaving her dead behind, Buried with Ireland. Daddy was waiting for family, Six months before Mammy got free From death's inhumanity. Her tears and griefs weren't yet over, She birthed another son and daughter; Jimmy and Marlene left us too, Death is sure, Death is cruel. Grandchildren came, she was Granny, Bridget, Nellie, but still our Mammy. She lived this life eduring pain That mothers bear, Mothers sustain. And yet, in times of personal strain, I'll sometimes whisper her one name, Mammy.
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84
a battle ensued across the skies meteors and comets impacted upon each other fierce were the explosions a trembling quake rolled through the planetary spheres neutrons and protons collided monstrous and massive destruction befell the galaxies which were ****** into the battle's vortex combustible fires flared burning for millions of years the war didn't abate the kinetic energy compelled more devastation catastrophe lasted until eternity
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Oct 9, 2014
Oct 9, 2014 at 7:18 AM UTC
Meteors and Comets
You wanted a love like in the movies; rain drenched white shirts, palms covered in daisy pollen; I love you more than-- a phone call, long distance, your fingers curling the telephone wire like you're pulling me towards you like a fibre optic pheromone. Soundtracks of a jazz piano, and old jukebox hits, flared skirts and Mary Jane shoes, square dancing. But most of the time, we don't get to choose the colour of the bedsheets. In this story, I know you're going to leave me. I can sense the zoom of your eyes, rolling away from me. The lighting in the room, like the ones where something awful is about to happen: a sad, sick orange like a cheap sunset; the music, or lack thereof, the way you bite your lip like you're about to break my heart. You look to the ground, and I know this is where the narration will start; *this is the story of the first time someone broke my heart.   She's going to look up at me and say the words, It's all over-* and in a jump frame the thunderclap will mask the sound of my heart shattering, the sob disappearing into my throat. You wanted a love like in the movies, honey, we all did. But then the rain came, and the flowers drowned in their beds. You left your umbrella by the doorstep, I hope you don't catch a cold.
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May 1, 2018
May 1, 2018 at 10:11 AM UTC
Lessons From The Screenplay
I gave an idle Skyward glance, When night is blackest Blue, There flared a meteor, Long as a blink, Through My atmosphere. It helped, I think, That I recalled, How you once Caught my eyes.
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Aug 28, 2014
Aug 28, 2014 at 11:42 PM UTC
Shooting Star
Wait for the door by the pillar because she’ll be back again, with an arm around her neck to keep her warm against cold eyes looking down, from the surrounding guys from around the bar. Every jackpot ever, was won in their hearts that night in that shadow of time that they called light. Single girls will always be watched, and those girls with a man attached will always seem unmatched in the eyes of the lonesome. I waited by the door and joined in with her stride, a pace set with vigour and pride. Did I speak? No, never spoke up, just let it carried on until it lit and flared up. When that match hit okra runway slip everything comfortable flipped and switched into a cushion of stone that now dismantles backs, blisters fingers and causes calluses that stop and linger. Hate myself? Increasingly. Personification was me, to her and to me, she was just that. I should really get in contact, and apologise.
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Nov 5, 2012
Nov 5, 2012 at 11:53 AM UTC
WALMART DANCE
somehow I managed to cram my *** into these fashion pants so I can make it to the days sales meeting to check my fleeting self esteem somehow this all got out of hand I misunderstand what I misunderstood this sick trip down becoming Johnny Hollywood champagne glasses and next years denim learning to look just right like them just to get tight with em learn right now that you are small and you can never be like them so learn to eat everything they're feeding and pick your teeth clean with the bones of those you're cheating this is Hollywood red carpets and models' stares This is Hollywood designer drugs on designer rugs up spiral stairs this is Hollywood rich ***** kids with tempers flared this is the top of the world in your dreams and no one else really cares somehow I managed to fight this depression looking for a job in a recession my hair lines recession partying like it's an obsession somehow this rip off called growing up has me over a toilet throwing up gagging on everything I misunderstood becoming Johnny Hollywood model chicks posing and poser friends learning to look at them both with the same fake grin learning right now that you will live to lie and do it again you'll bite your tounge to the powers and when your dream fails you'll buy new friends this is Hollywood ******* business cards and winks this is Hollywood everyone talks but nobody thinks this is Hollywood hit top but beware if you sink when you're number one everyone loves you and stares but when you're Johnny Hollywood nobody else really ******* cares
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Apr 26, 2012
Apr 26, 2012 at 12:51 PM UTC
CATWALK
somehow I managed to cram my *** into these fashion pants so I can make it to the days sales meeting to check my fleeting self esteem somehow this all got out of hand I misunderstand what I misunderstood this sick trip down becoming Johnny Hollywood champagne glasses and next years denim learning to look just right like them just to get tight with em learn right now that you are small and you can never be like them so learn to eat everything they're feeding and pick your teeth clean with the bones of those you're cheating this is Hollywood red carpets and models' stares This is Hollywood designer drugs on designer rugs up spiral stairs this is Hollywood rich ***** kids with tempers flared this is the top of the world in your dreams and no one else really cares somehow I managed to fight this depression looking for a job in a recession my hair lines recession partying like it's an obsession somehow this rip off called growing up has me over a toilet throwing up gagging on everything I misunderstood becoming Johnny Hollywood model chicks posing and poser friends learning to look at them both with the same fake grin learning right now that you will live to lie and do it again you'll bite your tounge to the powers and when your dream fails you'll buy new friends this is Hollywood ******* business cards and winks this is Hollywood everyone talks but nobody thinks this is Hollywood hit top but beware if you sink when you're number one everyone loves you and stares but when you're Johnny Hollywood nobody else really ******* cares
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52
I sat beside my dear old friend, Who’d gone and died last night, When in our boat on gentle seas, I saw a welcome sight. In the distance stood an island, In the brilliant evening sun, Atop, a lighthouse standing proud, I knew it was the one . It sat atop a rocky plot, A gray and barren place, Where in it’s majesty around, It lit its shining face. There had to be someone there, I thought to myself inside, I started to bury my now dead friend, At the turning of the tide. I walked around to see him there, My Captain standing fervent, He said with a smile warm and glad “Well done my faithful servant.” He lead me to the lighthouse, Where a feast had been prepared, Where many other sailors were waiting, While the lighthouse mirrors flared.
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Feb 18, 2015
Feb 18, 2015 at 8:15 PM UTC
Lighthouse Island
Bridget was born on a flax mill farm, Near the Cavan border, in Monaghan, At Lough Egish on the Carrick Road, The last child of the Sheridans. The sluice still runs near the water wheel, With thistles thriving on rusted steel. What's known of Nellie's early years? Da died before her grieving tears, But burn her eyes in later years. She's eleven posing with her class, This photo shows an Irish lass. Her visage blurred, Her eyes look distant, Yet recognizable In an instant. She attended school for six short years, The three R's, some Irish, And a Doctorate in tears. Her Mammy grew ill, She lost a leg, And bit by bit, By age sixteen, Nellie buried her first dead. Too young to be alone, Sisters and brother had left the home. The cloistered convent took her in, She taught urchins and orphans About God, Grace and sin. There were no vows for Nellie then. At nineteen she met a Creamery man, Jim Lynch of the Cavan clan; He delivered dairy from his lorry, Married Nellie To relieve their worry. War flared up, and men were few, So the work in Coventry Left Ireland's thistles to bloom. Nellie soon was Michael's Mammy, Then Maura, Sheila and Kevin were carried. When war floundered to its end, They shipped back to Monaghan, To work the flax mill again. The thistles and weeds That surrounded the mill, Were scythed and scattered By Daddy's zeal. He built himself a generator. And powered the lights and the wheel. Sean was born, Gerald soon followed; Then Michael died. A nine year old, His Father's angel. (Is this what turns A father strange?) Francie arrived, Then Eucheria, But ten months later Bold death took her. Grief knows no family borders For brothers and sisters, sons and daughters. We left for Canada. Mammy brought six kids along, Leaving her dead behind, Buried with Ireland in familiar songs. Daddy was waiting for family, Six months before Mammy got free From death's inhumanity. Her tears and griefs weren't yet over, She birthed another son and daughter; Jimmy and Marlene left us too, Death is sure, Death is cruel. Grandchildren came, she was Granny, Bridget, Nellie, but still our Mammy. She lived this life eduring pain That mothers bear, Mothers sustain. And yet, in times of personal strain, I'll sometimes whisper her one name, Mammy.
0
May 7, 2016
May 7, 2016 at 2:49 PM UTC
Her Many Names
Bridget was born on a flax mill farm, Near the Cavan border, in Monaghan, At Lough Egish on the Carrick Road, The last child of the Sheridans. The sluice still runs near the water wheel, With thistles thriving on rusted steel. What's known of Nellie's early years? Da died before her grieving tears, But burn her eyes in later years. She's eleven posing with her class, This photo shows an Irish lass. Her visage blurred, Her eyes look distant, Yet recognizable In an instant. She attended school for six short years, The three R's, some Irish, And a Doctorate in tears. Her Mammy grew ill, She lost a leg, And bit by bit, By age sixteen, Nellie buried her first dead. Too young to be alone, Sisters and brother had left the home. The cloistered convent took her in, She taught urchins and orphans About God, Grace and sin. There were no vows for Nellie then. At nineteen she met a Creamery man, Jim Lynch of the Cavan clan; He delivered dairy from his lorry, Married Nellie To relieve their worry. War flared up, and men were few, So the work in Coventry Left Ireland's thistles to bloom. Nellie soon was Michael's Mammy, Then Maura, Sheila and Kevin were carried. When war floundered to its end, They shipped back to Monaghan, To work the flax mill again. The thistles and weeds That surrounded the mill, Were scythed and scattered By Daddy's zeal. He built himself a generator. And powered the lights and the wheel. Sean was born, Gerald soon followed; Then Michael died. A nine year old, His Father's angel. (Is this what turns A father strange?) Francie arrived, Then Eucheria, But ten months later Bold death took her. Grief knows no family borders For brothers and sisters, sons and daughters. We left for Canada. Mammy brought six kids along, Leaving her dead behind, Buried with Ireland in familiar songs. Daddy was waiting for family, Six months before Mammy got free From death's inhumanity. Her tears and griefs weren't yet over, She birthed another son and daughter; Jimmy and Marlene left us too, Death is sure, Death is cruel. Grandchildren came, she was Granny, Bridget, Nellie, but still our Mammy. She lived this life eduring pain That mothers bear, Mothers sustain. And yet, in times of personal strain, I'll sometimes whisper her one name, Mammy.
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81
I see you stirring out in the far southwest Just now I feel your wind licking my face I see something so awesomely beautiful . I want you to come home to my place I see your naked thighs shaking your hips of desire I am amazed as you snake through my ruins Throwing kisses of debris Stripping off the bark of my trunk I long for your twisted breath in my hair as you pound my foundation to the ground You splinter my resistance My bricks fall into your embrace Your black hair goes flared Be my tornadic love affair Stay with me until your thunder bares All lightnings charge making me glow everywhere Twirl me , separate me , take your toll I lie under your spell
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Feb 10, 2015
Feb 10, 2015 at 8:48 PM UTC
Be My Tornado
The oil lamp cast its noble glow, while shadows darkened all around, on leaders in the global know whose darkness by its light was found. Just then, the lantern's leaky wick flared up. The whole benighted place ignited like a Wiki-Leak inflaming each tyrannic face. The Media pitched their low-ball gloss and tried to polish up the mess by spinning such a global loss as sure electoral success.
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Oct 29, 2016
Oct 29, 2016 at 8:49 AM UTC
Stable Fire
body genre at a carnal address sensory and sensuous effects materiality digital images anthropology of desire she tied a knot around his **** a wedding band made of licorice shoelaces for the art of tongue and **** driving it in her pink throat back and forth like a shift stick flared for the retina a puzzlement and fascination haptic screen of fiction adventure of  being pinned down an unpremeditated punctum fucktum sucktum the stadium of desire a shop window banality transcending banality the literal transformed into the ****** a ****** smiles red girl in a suitcase with a hole to **** a treasure chest the leaky boundaries of erotica sing in musical blood whistles I packed her up limbless and threw her on the bed and with tender kisses of endless wet permutations banged three oozing holes into finger ponds of oblivion she taunted    age play- ageless ***** class a weird ethnicity from Timbuktu racially motivated lust for a conveyance of fleshy intensities way past help a big **** dips a tender dimple like a barnacled whale in a deep dive the violence of a preemptive strike for everything imaginable across raw lips in her cosmos of swinging hips and cross bone riddles oh happy ***** suicide ****** at the computer screen **** bullets birthday cake in a River Styx of flames
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Jun 21, 2020
Jun 21, 2020 at 4:40 PM UTC
Disturbing Fleshy Text
In a garden, As beautiful as heaven, At night Jasmine, With white silky lips, Unfolded its perfumed petals, Blossoms in ethereal beauty, With a creamy glow. In the morning the Red Rose in bud, Drenched in dew, Unfurled its petals one by one, On a single stem with its prickly thorn, Sassy and beautiful. Each with an ego of, "I am the best", Their hatred flared, In fumes their scent flowed in waves. The birds and insects looked on, Prayed for peace, Tried to pacify them. Then one day their enmity changed to love. Bees and butterflies sang and chanted love songs, As they sipped their nectar. Soon The Rose proposed, My love, let's get married, For long have we tarried. So the hummingbird flew them to them to a famous wedding planner, To be stringed into garlands, Jasmine for the bride, And The Red Rose for the groom. The couple took their vows, So did The Rose and Jasmine. They made a beautiful pair, And their children were called Jasrose.
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Jul 31, 2018
Jul 31, 2018 at 8:26 AM UTC
Jasmine and Rose
Four dots. Four lights Each floating deep in an icy cavern Each glints in time to an unknown beat I see my breath, but I'm not cold The crystals of water feel like rock, or plastic I feel warm here Watching the four lights Watching them glint as I speak to them Looking to the back, at the fourth light One light fades and goes out The last light I looked at The last light I made glint It glinted fast, and went out The other two glint Still outshine the fourth In the back, growing brighter Another glints fast, pops away to black The other just vanishes Now I am alone with the last light The brightest of all And I see It too was blinking Faster than the light that faded too soon Faster than the light that flared and then blew Faster than the light than just ceased to be It too was blinking But I broke that light And now in the dark I see how cold it truly is
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Nov 7, 2017
Nov 7, 2017 at 3:09 PM UTC
Four Lights
Downton Abbey’s going off the air. I’m not through yet, it’s just not fair. Nothing before that show ever had That kind of class, that degree of flair. Life without my weekly Downton Is too sad and inordinately scary. What will I do without my frequent fix Of the elegantly snarky Lady Mary? And will the feckless Mister Barrow Ever develop a true human soul? I am sure this handsome actor fellow Will never again get such a meaty role. And the Dowager Duchess herself, She is not someone easily done with. She is, after all, tradition incarnate, And under all that, she’s Maggie Smith. Bates and his Anna filled my heart With alternating sorrow and great joy Almost as much as a lady of nobility Marrying the handsome chauffer boy. Dresses and hair lengths shortened And nobility began to get real jobs. All this was before ****** flared up And turned starving folks into a mob. I never missed that we were seeing The transition from ‘la belle epoque’. That time was running out for that In the worlds ever-changing clock. It was a yesterday we never knew We of the age of electric equality. We got to look inside and see it In all its grandly overdressed reality. I had begun to recognize artwork, in Lovely strolls through baronial halls And huge family meals at table. I am sorry that it is over for us all.
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Feb 4, 2016
Feb 4, 2016 at 12:17 AM UTC
DOWNTON ABBEY
my math teacher has flared nostrils as extended proof that he inhales nonsense and exhales logic in matters of seconds and there is a boy who aces his tests ribcage rattling with numbers bloodstream rushing with answers and during math class, i am the dull girl with the blank face you can't furrow your brows because the teacher will stare at you and i'm thinking about brilliance and my lack of it, you know sometimes i have poetry floating through my brain but i'm not going to get good grades for that there are cookie crumbs falling on my lap and the boy is staring at me
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Sep 23, 2013
Sep 23, 2013 at 9:43 AM UTC
mathematics
_As his feet moved even faster, and he twirled and whirled and cantered across the stage, it was as if he existed in an indeterminate space - blinded by the footlights, deafened by the orchestra, absorbed in his own rumbustious choreography. Beyond the pit, in the anonymous darkness, the audience rippled and flared appreciatively in response. So he danced on until, with a final rapturous gesture of his outstretched arms, he plunged to earth as dizzy as a snowflake. And waited. The silence shifted. The soft rumble of engine noise played softly in the background, while the chain-link fence rattled in the squall which blew fresh off the harbour. He opened his eyes and watched the cars crawling across the overbridge above him; the empty basketball court littered with yesterday’s snack papers lay in shadow. In the middle distance, a familiar figure walked briskly towards him. ‘Matthew! Matthew! You come here this secon’ or I’ll whip your **** right off, already.’ ‘Yes, Auntie.’ ‘What you doin’ tryna waste good time?’ ‘Nothin’, Auntie.’ ‘Ain’t that the truth, boy.’ As he stooped to gather up his satchel, Matthew saw out of the corner of his eye the concertmaster lower his instrument, incline his head, and begin to tap his music stand with his bow. From the balconies the first of a thousand rose petals began to fall with the evening rain, the applause thundered while the lightning clapped, and there in the gods stood his mother waving and blowing kisses at him, as he followed his aunt down East Street towards home._
0
Sep 4, 2019
Sep 4, 2019 at 10:29 PM UTC
As Dizzy As A Snowflake
_As his feet moved even faster, and he twirled and whirled and cantered across the stage, it was as if he existed in an indeterminate space - blinded by the footlights, deafened by the orchestra, absorbed in his own rumbustious choreography. Beyond the pit, in the anonymous darkness, the audience rippled and flared appreciatively in response. So he danced on until, with a final rapturous gesture of his outstretched arms, he plunged to earth as dizzy as a snowflake. And waited. The silence shifted. The soft rumble of engine noise played softly in the background, while the chain-link fence rattled in the squall which blew fresh off the harbour. He opened his eyes and watched the cars crawling across the overbridge above him; the empty basketball court littered with yesterday’s snack papers lay in shadow. In the middle distance, a familiar figure walked briskly towards him. ‘Matthew! Matthew! You come here this secon’ or I’ll whip your **** right off, already.’ ‘Yes, Auntie.’ ‘What you doin’ tryna waste good time?’ ‘Nothin’, Auntie.’ ‘Ain’t that the truth, boy.’ As he stooped to gather up his satchel, Matthew saw out of the corner of his eye the concertmaster lower his instrument, incline his head, and begin to tap his music stand with his bow. From the balconies the first of a thousand rose petals began to fall with the evening rain, the applause thundered while the lightning clapped, and there in the gods stood his mother waving and blowing kisses at him, as he followed his aunt down East Street towards home._
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