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"flounder" poems
(a tribute; if mere words could be enough) ~ the life of this River, 'tis an unending stream; is an unpublished book, its current fast at flood; a flow that washes clean, all the gathered debris; its words like diamonds, sparkling neath its lapping waters at its river bank; a sound refreshing, hushes the rush in my mind, calling to my soul. where does the river go at night, and whence flows its waters when hidden, out of sight? its flow is eternal to the sea; a place of waters gathering, of floods heaping, of reflection's seeking, where still waters lie, where the hand of friendship holds and lifts all who venture to its depth where feet can touch no longer the point where most would flounder become a place of calm of peaceable retreat without and deep within a flow of tears for thee! ~ *post script. a heart on sleeve composure, for he who knows the River best! who's breath is water deep,... who's heart beat its very current! added 12-13-16 my dearest HP friends, i want to thank you for this Daily and for your generous words, though i cannot truly claim this credit for my own. those of you who have walked these halls with me for a few years will read between the lines and will know precisely for whom this tribute is written. he is become to me one of a small handful of poetry mentors and it was a moment of great appreciation for his artistic talent that inspired these words... words that tumbled from this pen as a rush, and in mere minutes. such is he, that he inspired this spill of words; a flood that i would not claim for my own. to he who knows, thank you, my friend... this River... these and this belongs to you!!*
0
Dec 4, 2016
Dec 4, 2016 at 2:22 PM UTC
se-reimer
this River!
(a tribute; if mere words could be enough) ~ the life of this River, 'tis an unending stream; is an unpublished book, its current fast at flood; a flow that washes clean, all the gathered debris; its words like diamonds, sparkling neath its lapping waters at its river bank; a sound refreshing, hushes the rush in my mind, calling to my soul. where does the river go at night, and whence flows its waters when hidden, out of sight? its flow is eternal to the sea; a place of waters gathering, of floods heaping, of reflection's seeking, where still waters lie, where the hand of friendship holds and lifts all who venture to its depth where feet can touch no longer the point where most would flounder become a place of calm of peaceable retreat without and deep within a flow of tears for thee! ~ *post script. a heart on sleeve composure, for he who knows the River best! who's breath is water deep,... who's heart beat its very current! added 12-13-16 my dearest HP friends, i want to thank you for this Daily and for your generous words, though i cannot truly claim this credit for my own. those of you who have walked these halls with me for a few years will read between the lines and will know precisely for whom this tribute is written. he is become to me one of a small handful of poetry mentors and it was a moment of great appreciation for his artistic talent that inspired these words... words that tumbled from this pen as a rush, and in mere minutes. such is he, that he inspired this spill of words; a flood that i would not claim for my own. to he who knows, thank you, my friend... this River... these and this belongs to you!!*
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40
Honest, that meaningless word left dangling before children, a damoclean sword held fast in a gordian knot tied with scarlet thread, finer than the spider's that once tied men's souls to an angry American God, birthed in Transylvania, over the woods, and through the dale, no lie There is a tale of lies told in Nobel houses, never reachin' ground, Down here, we situations manifested to, vain, again, stem the tide, We flounder, fish out of water, why are we sent if wait he hears, he listens, haps he knows, and how such as we came to be here, Welcome and see, dare ye ask me in? Might I ply you with lies and you, believe 'em? I could make a mindless robot out of your parts, but that would take forever and that's not how Wisdom's child would tend to be, for first, You must believe a lie and I, amusing as can be, can't tell lies. Discernment, fine points, per-spicacity per se, the only way. Good luck (Luc, said luck in many tongues, is said Lose- as in Luc-ifer. It means light, as in light, regular old granted light.) Lightifier, good, take some, good light, for the travail, in the night. You see, not so long ago, for me, five years before I'as born, my momma moved to town. What was that like, I axed my old uncle, while back, movin' t'town, in 1943? Well, he says, We had electricity. USA, 1943, some folks still was poor, and all the good men was gone to war. Cities, it was different, if the movies got it right, Bowry Boys, n'em. In the desert we did, okeh, in town, though, we had electricity. He was ten back then. He'd been huntin' rabbit's, to buy Christmas presents from Sears and Roebucks, since he was five. C'mon, I say. No lie, he say, BLM or some gover'ment whatsajigger, was payin' 2 cents a pair fer jack rabbit ears. 'Said he bought Christmas presents for his mom and dad, and my mom, with his first rabbit money, at five. Shootin' with a single-shot 22, 12 cents a box, Jack Rabbits, 2 cents a head. Three Christmas presents, plus postage, $2.56. Do the math, I think, and go - Five years old, at ten, he moves to town, 1943, we had electricity. That's all.
0
Oct 14, 2018
Oct 14, 2018 at 10:59 PM UTC
kenpepiton
There is no someday.
Honest, that meaningless word left dangling before children, a damoclean sword held fast in a gordian knot tied with scarlet thread, finer than the spider's that once tied men's souls to an angry American God, birthed in Transylvania, over the woods, and through the dale, no lie There is a tale of lies told in Nobel houses, never reachin' ground, Down here, we situations manifested to, vain, again, stem the tide, We flounder, fish out of water, why are we sent if wait he hears, he listens, haps he knows, and how such as we came to be here, Welcome and see, dare ye ask me in? Might I ply you with lies and you, believe 'em? I could make a mindless robot out of your parts, but that would take forever and that's not how Wisdom's child would tend to be, for first, You must believe a lie and I, amusing as can be, can't tell lies. Discernment, fine points, per-spicacity per se, the only way. Good luck (Luc, said luck in many tongues, is said Lose- as in Luc-ifer. It means light, as in light, regular old granted light.) Lightifier, good, take some, good light, for the travail, in the night. You see, not so long ago, for me, five years before I'as born, my momma moved to town. What was that like, I axed my old uncle, while back, movin' t'town, in 1943? Well, he says, We had electricity. USA, 1943, some folks still was poor, and all the good men was gone to war. Cities, it was different, if the movies got it right, Bowry Boys, n'em. In the desert we did, okeh, in town, though, we had electricity. He was ten back then. He'd been huntin' rabbit's, to buy Christmas presents from Sears and Roebucks, since he was five. C'mon, I say. No lie, he say, BLM or some gover'ment whatsajigger, was payin' 2 cents a pair fer jack rabbit ears. 'Said he bought Christmas presents for his mom and dad, and my mom, with his first rabbit money, at five. Shootin' with a single-shot 22, 12 cents a box, Jack Rabbits, 2 cents a head. Three Christmas presents, plus postage, $2.56. Do the math, I think, and go - Five years old, at ten, he moves to town, 1943, we had electricity. That's all.
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51
Your advice Is my vice And you continue to add vices And you swim like mad pisces Through my stream of thoughts With all the lessons you taught From all the advice you brought So I avoid your glance To not give you the chance To see the results of our fishdance Or how much my life has been enhanced Until I begin to flounder As those pisces become piranha Feeding on other considerations And growing colossal Until your kraken is in my mind Cracking up my mind Stacking up the time It takes to get out of bed As I trust the tentacles that tie me down To a life floating on the surface Of an ocean Where the fish burn like a furnace And I watch the water evaporate Like the advice on which you elaborate As the advice that was once there Is currently water vapor in the air As I start to think of us as a pair From inside my secret underwater lair That is the cavern of my mind Where a school of fish Teach me how to live and die
0
Aug 4, 2017
Aug 4, 2017 at 7:49 AM UTC
andrew-rueter
Fish
Your advice Is my vice And you continue to add vices And you swim like mad pisces Through my stream of thoughts With all the lessons you taught From all the advice you brought So I avoid your glance To not give you the chance To see the results of our fishdance Or how much my life has been enhanced Until I begin to flounder As those pisces become piranha Feeding on other considerations And growing colossal Until your kraken is in my mind Cracking up my mind Stacking up the time It takes to get out of bed As I trust the tentacles that tie me down To a life floating on the surface Of an ocean Where the fish burn like a furnace And I watch the water evaporate Like the advice on which you elaborate As the advice that was once there Is currently water vapor in the air As I start to think of us as a pair From inside my secret underwater lair That is the cavern of my mind Where a school of fish Teach me how to live and die
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32
this constant invitation into stark mystery is a story i flounder to find words for. ~ a glance, more than eyes looking. beholden entrancement, upon feedback's looping. ~ i am a crippled logician, wrought with wonder in the thrashing static jungle, of no conclusion. ~ this is a flash this here, the flesh a blinding binding light, obliterating, without solution, a living, i tremble in. ~ i am stumped i am little so small hung here in the sky. ~ a suspended channel of ideation, filling, with empty utterance. ~ i am confounded i am large too grand to get ahold of. ~ breathing multitudinous, full, with contradiction. ~ a grandiose enigmatic flux, miniscule and massive.
0
Mar 9, 2014
Mar 9, 2014 at 5:21 PM UTC
christopher-wallace
stark mystery
this constant invitation into stark mystery is a story i flounder to find words for. ~ a glance, more than eyes looking. beholden entrancement, upon feedback's looping. ~ i am a crippled logician, wrought with wonder in the thrashing static jungle, of no conclusion. ~ this is a flash this here, the flesh a blinding binding light, obliterating, without solution, a living, i tremble in. ~ i am stumped i am little so small hung here in the sky. ~ a suspended channel of ideation, filling, with empty utterance. ~ i am confounded i am large too grand to get ahold of. ~ breathing multitudinous, full, with contradiction. ~ a grandiose enigmatic flux, miniscule and massive.
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60
I put on my aqua-lung and dive, Exploring there I see a giant tortoise plunge to the coral reef, Just missing a lonely lobster gliding across the sand. I hide from a fearsome shark, sniffing the water for blood. A crawling crayfish scuttles away. I come to an angry octopus squirting its enemy with ink. Swaying seaweed hide sleeping starfish. A fluttering flounder quickly swims by in pursuit of a sliding seal. But too soon the bitter cold wraps around me like a blanket and pulls me to the surface. Back to the ordinary world.
0
Feb 27, 2013
Feb 27, 2013 at 10:23 AM UTC
Poemsbymrblacke
The Diver
I put on my aqua-lung and dive, Exploring there I see a giant tortoise plunge to the coral reef, Just missing a lonely lobster gliding across the sand. I hide from a fearsome shark, sniffing the water for blood. A crawling crayfish scuttles away. I come to an angry octopus squirting its enemy with ink. Swaying seaweed hide sleeping starfish. A fluttering flounder quickly swims by in pursuit of a sliding seal. But too soon the bitter cold wraps around me like a blanket and pulls me to the surface. Back to the ordinary world.
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10
I apoligize for not reading your posts. I have been battling my depression and have not been online . I have written a poem about it (of course lol). I hope you enjoy and I hope to be online tomorrow. My Dark Tale (A Sestina) It is a lovely time of day for tea As I sit curled up to the song of rain Memories arise of a deep dark pain Storm clouds gather within my heart, darkly Dimly, I am aware of rainbow’s hope Wanting dreams infused with Rosemary and Thyme Out of work, I suffer from too much time Overeating and drinking too much tea Depression worsens, stealing all my hope And all my dreams shatter in the cold rain Leaving me empty in the bitter dark As I stare out of the broken windowpane How I long to conquer my bitter pain If only I would organize my time I know then, I would rise above the dark Instead, I get caught in cookies and tea And sink deeper; chaos supremely reigns I flounder once again, losing my hope I am tired of losing precious hope Letting despair and worthless bitter pain To take control and determinedly reign Structure! Will that allow me to use time Positively? Cutting back on black tea Getting needed sleep to fight back the dark Rested, I can push back the hated dark Strive to capture peace and beautiful hope Learning once again to enjoy my tea And not as a crutch that causes me pain While I mourn the loss of wasted sweet time Instead, I would see rainbows in the rain I yearn to topple depression’s long reign, To walk in the sun’s light, not the cold dark Eager to greet the day and enjoy time Pursue my dreams, infusing life with hope Do away with doldrums and bitter pain Relaxing and enjoying Earl Gray Tea Envoi To sum up, I yearn to enjoy my tea Overcome my darkness and pain; to feel hope While I take time to enjoy the sweet rain Kelly Rose © January 5, 2017
0
Jan 5, 2017
Jan 5, 2017 at 5:17 PM UTC
ketomarose
My Dark Tale (A Sestina)
I apoligize for not reading your posts. I have been battling my depression and have not been online . I have written a poem about it (of course lol). I hope you enjoy and I hope to be online tomorrow. My Dark Tale (A Sestina) It is a lovely time of day for tea As I sit curled up to the song of rain Memories arise of a deep dark pain Storm clouds gather within my heart, darkly Dimly, I am aware of rainbow’s hope Wanting dreams infused with Rosemary and Thyme Out of work, I suffer from too much time Overeating and drinking too much tea Depression worsens, stealing all my hope And all my dreams shatter in the cold rain Leaving me empty in the bitter dark As I stare out of the broken windowpane How I long to conquer my bitter pain If only I would organize my time I know then, I would rise above the dark Instead, I get caught in cookies and tea And sink deeper; chaos supremely reigns I flounder once again, losing my hope I am tired of losing precious hope Letting despair and worthless bitter pain To take control and determinedly reign Structure! Will that allow me to use time Positively? Cutting back on black tea Getting needed sleep to fight back the dark Rested, I can push back the hated dark Strive to capture peace and beautiful hope Learning once again to enjoy my tea And not as a crutch that causes me pain While I mourn the loss of wasted sweet time Instead, I would see rainbows in the rain I yearn to topple depression’s long reign, To walk in the sun’s light, not the cold dark Eager to greet the day and enjoy time Pursue my dreams, infusing life with hope Do away with doldrums and bitter pain Relaxing and enjoying Earl Gray Tea Envoi To sum up, I yearn to enjoy my tea Overcome my darkness and pain; to feel hope While I take time to enjoy the sweet rain Kelly Rose © January 5, 2017
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44
Blue is not sure where to find the propeller. The motor boat sent to scotch the shimmer. The waves break inside a jar, and the little pieces are swept up by the wind and made into mist. The Jar is shaken, the titanic sinks, and the seagulls peck at our eyes. Covered in barnacles, the new-found fish men wander onto the sand and get coated, as in cornmeal, ready to fry. Infatuated and floundering they wander to water again. Drinking death hand over fist, they ring themselves out with simply a twist. The fish flap their fins so forcefully; trying to be flying to a sea called the sky. With a crumbled-ed crust they say, “motherboat or bust”, but the navigation of aviation is a compilation of great frustration for fishes whose function is on boats, wrapped up in those silly greatcoats. Yet they made it, or so they claim, and with only one flounder or flunder who had made a blunder to blame. If only old skipper had been a bit quicker, he wouldn't have had such a queer story to claim.
0
Oct 25, 2014
Oct 25, 2014 at 2:10 PM UTC
asa-d-bruss
Odd, eh? Sea...
Blue is not sure where to find the propeller. The motor boat sent to scotch the shimmer. The waves break inside a jar, and the little pieces are swept up by the wind and made into mist. The Jar is shaken, the titanic sinks, and the seagulls peck at our eyes. Covered in barnacles, the new-found fish men wander onto the sand and get coated, as in cornmeal, ready to fry. Infatuated and floundering they wander to water again. Drinking death hand over fist, they ring themselves out with simply a twist. The fish flap their fins so forcefully; trying to be flying to a sea called the sky. With a crumbled-ed crust they say, “motherboat or bust”, but the navigation of aviation is a compilation of great frustration for fishes whose function is on boats, wrapped up in those silly greatcoats. Yet they made it, or so they claim, and with only one flounder or flunder who had made a blunder to blame. If only old skipper had been a bit quicker, he wouldn't have had such a queer story to claim.
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25
My sister is a quarterback I rarely catch a pass and she can run a marathon I soon run out of gas she pitches for her baseball team I pop up on her curve and she's an ace at tennis I can't return her serve My sister dunks the basketball I dribble like a mule she swims like a torpedo I flounder in the pool she's accurate at archery I hardly ever score She wrestles and she boxers I wind up on the floor My sister catches lots of fish I haven't had any luck she's captain of her hockey team I can't control the puck her bowling's are unbelievable I bowl like a buffoon she says someday I'll start to win... I hope someday is soon
0
Nov 16, 2013
Nov 16, 2013 at 8:11 PM UTC
Bunhead17
My Sister is a QuarterBack!
My sister is a quarterback I rarely catch a pass and she can run a marathon I soon run out of gas she pitches for her baseball team I pop up on her curve and she's an ace at tennis I can't return her serve My sister dunks the basketball I dribble like a mule she swims like a torpedo I flounder in the pool she's accurate at archery I hardly ever score She wrestles and she boxers I wind up on the floor My sister catches lots of fish I haven't had any luck she's captain of her hockey team I can't control the puck her bowling's are unbelievable I bowl like a buffoon she says someday I'll start to win... I hope someday is soon
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24
~ *The arithmetic of murky waters Is not so clear Neither are my chances of survival Here is me Face down in urgent sea My wave My grave My gateway, perhaps Whatever the consequence Suffering is the new salvation It all adds up Sum how? Sum way? And if I was your ship Destined to flounder In the wide open drink You'd re-enter the equation And find a way to pull me through Just so we could once more Make the hurting count* ~
0
Sep 2, 2021
Sep 2, 2021 at 6:01 PM UTC
Carlo-C-Gomez
You Bring Me Out From Under the Waves
~ *The arithmetic of murky waters Is not so clear Neither are my chances of survival Here is me Face down in urgent sea My wave My grave My gateway, perhaps Whatever the consequence Suffering is the new salvation It all adds up Sum how? Sum way? And if I was your ship Destined to flounder In the wide open drink You'd re-enter the equation And find a way to pull me through Just so we could once more Make the hurting count* ~
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22
*It is easy to just be* **I am easy. life is easy. if you know how to see** & I want to let the whole world see... how they can float on life,                             simple as a breeze. You flounder, we wander, in what is meant to be. I say it because it is truth, I say it because it is what eye sees. *If I could, I would give to my old self, what I have in me.* But I can't, and you can take all my wealth from me.... **Let my lessons live, and please learn you need only be.**
0
Nov 21, 2014
Nov 21, 2014 at 5:46 PM UTC
jennifer-weiss
This Is Not Just "Poetry"
*It is easy to just be* **I am easy. life is easy. if you know how to see** & I want to let the whole world see... how they can float on life,                             simple as a breeze. You flounder, we wander, in what is meant to be. I say it because it is truth, I say it because it is what eye sees. *If I could, I would give to my old self, what I have in me.* But I can't, and you can take all my wealth from me.... **Let my lessons live, and please learn you need only be.**
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33
Pretentious you stumble, heeding terra cotta voices and the sigh of broken chimes. Disbelieving you fall, a sybil breathing rime- for visions have a price and you too must taste the salt. Flounder my pretty, for time has bought your emnity The blossom of your beauty a weathervane of trust.
0
Dec 24, 2011
Dec 24, 2011 at 1:47 AM UTC
jane-rochester
Pretentious
Pretentious you stumble, heeding terra cotta voices and the sigh of broken chimes. Disbelieving you fall, a sybil breathing rime- for visions have a price and you too must taste the salt. Flounder my pretty, for time has bought your emnity The blossom of your beauty a weathervane of trust.
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14
Trust in Faith It's raining and the sun has returned home although I am by myself, yet I am not alone mind engages intellect, with time to consider how this heart of mine, has grown so bitter Not long ago, reflections of the past were a delight then in a brief moment, my happiness took flight once having a life with meaning, love and security now with remorse and desire, for a heart with purity Continuing to pursue life normally, while anxieties drown the mind no matter what I might do, any sense of happiness seems confined confused with mixed emotions, and knowing that they are both true yet despite my conflict, still mustering the will to tell her, I love you With each and every passing day, I look forward to behold once again to greet those yesterdays, those yesterdays of old but those yesterdays are buried, the fear of the future takes hold all of what now remains, are those few tomorrows left to unfold Worries must stem from this lack of control, how not to consider thinking of how few years are left to live, could anyone not be bitter the unknown of what the rest of your life will bring, an awesome fear when you advance in years, only then does it become all too clear Times passes, the body ages, memories flounder, and reality sets in maybe tomorrow the mail will arrive, addressed to: The Next of Kin finding yourself in an emotional upheaval, there is but one thing to do forage deep down inside, and uncover your faith, your only rescue Faith will give you the strength, it will guide you to trust in the One above fears of the future and of the unknown, disappear in this world called love experiencing midlife crisis, something you can and will successfully overcome but first never stop searching, trusting in G-d, and to depression never succumb
0
Jul 24, 2015
Jul 24, 2015 at 7:38 AM UTC
2bpositive
Faith: The Antidote to Man's Midlife Crisis
Trust in Faith It's raining and the sun has returned home although I am by myself, yet I am not alone mind engages intellect, with time to consider how this heart of mine, has grown so bitter Not long ago, reflections of the past were a delight then in a brief moment, my happiness took flight once having a life with meaning, love and security now with remorse and desire, for a heart with purity Continuing to pursue life normally, while anxieties drown the mind no matter what I might do, any sense of happiness seems confined confused with mixed emotions, and knowing that they are both true yet despite my conflict, still mustering the will to tell her, I love you With each and every passing day, I look forward to behold once again to greet those yesterdays, those yesterdays of old but those yesterdays are buried, the fear of the future takes hold all of what now remains, are those few tomorrows left to unfold Worries must stem from this lack of control, how not to consider thinking of how few years are left to live, could anyone not be bitter the unknown of what the rest of your life will bring, an awesome fear when you advance in years, only then does it become all too clear Times passes, the body ages, memories flounder, and reality sets in maybe tomorrow the mail will arrive, addressed to: The Next of Kin finding yourself in an emotional upheaval, there is but one thing to do forage deep down inside, and uncover your faith, your only rescue Faith will give you the strength, it will guide you to trust in the One above fears of the future and of the unknown, disappear in this world called love experiencing midlife crisis, something you can and will successfully overcome but first never stop searching, trusting in G-d, and to depression never succumb
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29
*My dear I wish you were here Many times I think of you It's not easy to forget I know that love is blind Not in your case luckily I found you Someday you'll see the same My body, mind and sole are out for you from the begin In my sleep, I see you If wake, I feel your spirit Let go of the norms and come Let love reach our sole You are my chosen one from heaven above beneath the open sky Where beauty and love is come to your grips You may flounder and wonder But someday you will come to me with an open heart The heart of love*
0
Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 12:56 AM UTC
Smiler
Hi
*My dear I wish you were here Many times I think of you It's not easy to forget I know that love is blind Not in your case luckily I found you Someday you'll see the same My body, mind and sole are out for you from the begin In my sleep, I see you If wake, I feel your spirit Let go of the norms and come Let love reach our sole You are my chosen one from heaven above beneath the open sky Where beauty and love is come to your grips You may flounder and wonder But someday you will come to me with an open heart The heart of love*
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24
As the world slowly turns And governments try to rise It will surely please my sight To see them fall before my eyes Everywhere I turn to look A new law is being created For what? Why so? To traumatize and belittle us Why must we obey a human power All we need is the Lord thy God To govern us and lead us abroad No need for following the devil's Dark angels of havoc and chaos I am with the lawless I'd rather govern myself As should we all.. Let's come together people Let us rise up in revolution And stake claim our own land "America, land of the free" they say, Can someone show to me What is free in this place? We should be able to do whatever To be allowed to ingress wherever But instead we are bound by rule This society must someday change I am in a state of nihilism Let us run and do what we please I surely refuse to remain enclosed Living in attendance to injustice Me and my crew are ready for war Time has come to overthrow Let's make the law's ship flounder Sinking to the abyss of nothingness Rise anarchy rise!!! The trillions of dollars they sit on Let's take it from their sacred places I'm ready to orchestrate dominance Let's machinate the takeover If blood shall be spilled, Then let it be spilled honorably In battle as one As long as we accomplish our goal To become a heavenly anarchy Making peace reside in our land No more indescriminate deaths No more unhealthy eating No inhumane death of animals We must live freely As wild mustangs on grassy plains If anyone stands by me With a load of support It will happen Just wait and see...
0
Apr 12, 2013
Apr 12, 2013 at 5:02 AM UTC
michael-p-smith
Heavenly Anarchy
As the world slowly turns And governments try to rise It will surely please my sight To see them fall before my eyes Everywhere I turn to look A new law is being created For what? Why so? To traumatize and belittle us Why must we obey a human power All we need is the Lord thy God To govern us and lead us abroad No need for following the devil's Dark angels of havoc and chaos I am with the lawless I'd rather govern myself As should we all.. Let's come together people Let us rise up in revolution And stake claim our own land "America, land of the free" they say, Can someone show to me What is free in this place? We should be able to do whatever To be allowed to ingress wherever But instead we are bound by rule This society must someday change I am in a state of nihilism Let us run and do what we please I surely refuse to remain enclosed Living in attendance to injustice Me and my crew are ready for war Time has come to overthrow Let's make the law's ship flounder Sinking to the abyss of nothingness Rise anarchy rise!!! The trillions of dollars they sit on Let's take it from their sacred places I'm ready to orchestrate dominance Let's machinate the takeover If blood shall be spilled, Then let it be spilled honorably In battle as one As long as we accomplish our goal To become a heavenly anarchy Making peace reside in our land No more indescriminate deaths No more unhealthy eating No inhumane death of animals We must live freely As wild mustangs on grassy plains If anyone stands by me With a load of support It will happen Just wait and see...
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54
The coastal shoals are your dominion. No salmon, or smelt, nor bottom flounder Had ever left the sea until you struck, You are wraith to the kelp beds dream.
0
Jun 1, 2012
Jun 1, 2012 at 7:06 PM UTC
ormond
The Osprey ( the sky fisher )
The coastal shoals are your dominion. No salmon, or smelt, nor bottom flounder Had ever left the sea until you struck, You are wraith to the kelp beds dream.
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4
A faith we fancy is that freedom is fabricated and forged for us by our forefathers who fought and forced their foes to forfeit their feud. They fended fiercely and defended fearlessly a fictionalized fact, freedom, filtered with fire and flame. A few fell to be famed fellows of the future while a fraction of the fraternity are farewelled faceless. All those frigid flashback brought-forth what we framed and fantasized as freewill and forbade freaks to falsify our fascination. It all falters as we fathom that freedom didn't fade ,but w/o a fons-et-ergo, a foolish fairytale foretold for us to falsely follow a formula for the foremen to fortify the fake façade of freedom while we flounder and they float. And if we flush and fracture their folderol, we are flagged as flagitious, frauds and fellons. For the feasibility of freedom is a mere ****** Fuckery to **** us.
0
Jan 7, 2013
Jan 7, 2013 at 12:02 PM UTC
asther-dela-fuente
freedom of a Fool
A faith we fancy is that freedom is fabricated and forged for us by our forefathers who fought and forced their foes to forfeit their feud. They fended fiercely and defended fearlessly a fictionalized fact, freedom, filtered with fire and flame. A few fell to be famed fellows of the future while a fraction of the fraternity are farewelled faceless. All those frigid flashback brought-forth what we framed and fantasized as freewill and forbade freaks to falsify our fascination. It all falters as we fathom that freedom didn't fade ,but w/o a fons-et-ergo, a foolish fairytale foretold for us to falsely follow a formula for the foremen to fortify the fake façade of freedom while we flounder and they float. And if we flush and fracture their folderol, we are flagged as flagitious, frauds and fellons. For the feasibility of freedom is a mere ****** Fuckery to **** us.
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5
____THEY___would EACH day take the ROLL CALL ! !...iT WENT LIKE THIS= *GERRY GIRAFFE="here sir", *SHARON SNAIL= "here sir", *SIDNEY SNAKE= "here sir", *DIANNE DEER= "here sir", *HERMAN HIPPO= "here sir", *FRANCES FOX= "here sir", ....AND it seemed like the list went on "FOREVER"! ! There were not Hundreds,, thousands or Millions ,,, BUT *HUNDREDS of Millions who were on the ROLL CALL List ! Many often Wondered , How Long would it take to complete the *ROLL ?? Many often Wondered ,, Would They be on the List ?? EACH=TIME a ROLLCALL* was answered ,, Another would wait in Heated Anticipation ! ! NO ONE HERE,,,Knows for sure, When the Exact Moment of the * ROLL CALL* Started,, but= it is SURELY known for fact,, EVERYONE WANTS TO BE ON "THE" LIST ! ! Some may deny the need for the List, Some May doubt the Existence of the LIST, Some may say "WHY EVEN HAVE alist ?" Some say "EVOLUTION" has brought us here ! ! Some not Understanding ,have SHED MANY A TEAR>> *LEONARD LION="here sir", *ADRIAN ANTELOPE= "here sir", *RONALD ROACH= "here sir", *MAUDE MOOSE= "here sir", ... THEY STAND IN AMAZEMENT as they see what looks like Surrender,, Have Feared for their VERY EXISTENCE,,, Looking around in AWE,, EACH SIGHING for the Sorrow in Others Hearts , ....BUT STILL THEY ASK ?? 'W H Y THE ROLL=CALL? > *BERRY BEETLE="here sir", *CAROL CROAKER = "here sir", >> THE ROLL CALL does continue this very moment! ! AND......is promised "TO GO ON" til the " GREAT-GATHERING"...>*FLOYD FLOUNDER= "here sir", ZELDA ZEBRA="here sir",....... the list IS STILL BEING CALLED AS "W E S P E A K "...simply waiting FOR the Gathering,, AND______the "calling " OF their NAME on the * ROLL-CALL*"
0
Dec 17, 2010
Dec 17, 2010 at 4:05 AM UTC
barnoahmike
* " ROLL CALL "* (#43)
____THEY___would EACH day take the ROLL CALL ! !...iT WENT LIKE THIS= *GERRY GIRAFFE="here sir", *SHARON SNAIL= "here sir", *SIDNEY SNAKE= "here sir", *DIANNE DEER= "here sir", *HERMAN HIPPO= "here sir", *FRANCES FOX= "here sir", ....AND it seemed like the list went on "FOREVER"! ! There were not Hundreds,, thousands or Millions ,,, BUT *HUNDREDS of Millions who were on the ROLL CALL List ! Many often Wondered , How Long would it take to complete the *ROLL ?? Many often Wondered ,, Would They be on the List ?? EACH=TIME a ROLLCALL* was answered ,, Another would wait in Heated Anticipation ! ! NO ONE HERE,,,Knows for sure, When the Exact Moment of the * ROLL CALL* Started,, but= it is SURELY known for fact,, EVERYONE WANTS TO BE ON "THE" LIST ! ! Some may deny the need for the List, Some May doubt the Existence of the LIST, Some may say "WHY EVEN HAVE alist ?" Some say "EVOLUTION" has brought us here ! ! Some not Understanding ,have SHED MANY A TEAR>> *LEONARD LION="here sir", *ADRIAN ANTELOPE= "here sir", *RONALD ROACH= "here sir", *MAUDE MOOSE= "here sir", ... THEY STAND IN AMAZEMENT as they see what looks like Surrender,, Have Feared for their VERY EXISTENCE,,, Looking around in AWE,, EACH SIGHING for the Sorrow in Others Hearts , ....BUT STILL THEY ASK ?? 'W H Y THE ROLL=CALL? > *BERRY BEETLE="here sir", *CAROL CROAKER = "here sir", >> THE ROLL CALL does continue this very moment! ! AND......is promised "TO GO ON" til the " GREAT-GATHERING"...>*FLOYD FLOUNDER= "here sir", ZELDA ZEBRA="here sir",....... the list IS STILL BEING CALLED AS "W E S P E A K "...simply waiting FOR the Gathering,, AND______the "calling " OF their NAME on the * ROLL-CALL*"
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1
A distorted lens makes it hard to find your cast. Got the bends from ascending too fast. I was drowning. I ran out of air while watching a flounder frowning. He looked so sad I had to stare. Sail away. Raise the mast Raise the mask Praise the flask All to learn: Be careful when you go diving.
0
Apr 8, 2013
Apr 8, 2013 at 12:36 PM UTC
ann-beaver
Scuba
A distorted lens makes it hard to find your cast. Got the bends from ascending too fast. I was drowning. I ran out of air while watching a flounder frowning. He looked so sad I had to stare. Sail away. Raise the mast Raise the mask Praise the flask All to learn: Be careful when you go diving.
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14
My hands are not my hands My voice is not my own My lip never was my lip But this blood is all mine. The spoon sedated my fears and insecurities It's tender metallic surface gleaning And involuntarily shaking As I lapped up alllll the yogurt. I could use a cartwheel. I don't want to sleep I'm afraid of dying as my back and forehead sweat in agony My eyes don't open anymore A steady beeping A flickering fills the air around me I told my brother I'll be back soon If I stop I'm writing with my eyes closed now. My heart rumbles like a cannon shot My only regret is how I never knew you better Mr. Cobain. We had such fun nights with Mr. Yorke and Mr. Coyne Just laughing And taking turns rolling Thom's glass eye across the floor. Spring training. I'm laughing on my bed outside Catching glances of the summer Coiled and contemptuous They go on their lives not caring Who lives. Who dies. Three girls climbed into my window They smelled of grass and polyurethane The children died 6 years ago The Johnny Carsons of this life And GET OFF MY HAND ******* PASS ME THE FOOTBALL Percodin. Codin. Coding. I just turned the page And I'll be ****** if I do it again “oh **** If Dan went white-face ghetto And wore beatnick clothes It'd be AMAZING The incisor broke my fall Sorry. No pork and beans today. Ericccccc Help my head Chalk these mint leaves up to fate. Because GOD **** are they good. I'm reading your expression On an empty pizza box. You don't seem too pleased. I fear This ice in my tray made me soak my bed Honest! Flounder had a mohawk I don't give a **** what you say. His **** mohawk was badass. His stubble made Sebastian jealous A bed of ice is better than a bed of coals Or a bed of cars Or a bed of rice But that would feel really, really good. Take a guitar solo Now a bass solo Now a keyboard solo Now a harmonica solo Now beatbox, no go? Maybe the former The TRANSFORMER of course. I hope I live to see that one day. Yes.
0
Sep 19, 2010
Sep 19, 2010 at 5:50 PM UTC
andrew-klein
Prerequisites
My hands are not my hands My voice is not my own My lip never was my lip But this blood is all mine. The spoon sedated my fears and insecurities It's tender metallic surface gleaning And involuntarily shaking As I lapped up alllll the yogurt. I could use a cartwheel. I don't want to sleep I'm afraid of dying as my back and forehead sweat in agony My eyes don't open anymore A steady beeping A flickering fills the air around me I told my brother I'll be back soon If I stop I'm writing with my eyes closed now. My heart rumbles like a cannon shot My only regret is how I never knew you better Mr. Cobain. We had such fun nights with Mr. Yorke and Mr. Coyne Just laughing And taking turns rolling Thom's glass eye across the floor. Spring training. I'm laughing on my bed outside Catching glances of the summer Coiled and contemptuous They go on their lives not caring Who lives. Who dies. Three girls climbed into my window They smelled of grass and polyurethane The children died 6 years ago The Johnny Carsons of this life And GET OFF MY HAND ******* PASS ME THE FOOTBALL Percodin. Codin. Coding. I just turned the page And I'll be ****** if I do it again “oh **** If Dan went white-face ghetto And wore beatnick clothes It'd be AMAZING The incisor broke my fall Sorry. No pork and beans today. Ericccccc Help my head Chalk these mint leaves up to fate. Because GOD **** are they good. I'm reading your expression On an empty pizza box. You don't seem too pleased. I fear This ice in my tray made me soak my bed Honest! Flounder had a mohawk I don't give a **** what you say. His **** mohawk was badass. His stubble made Sebastian jealous A bed of ice is better than a bed of coals Or a bed of cars Or a bed of rice But that would feel really, really good. Take a guitar solo Now a bass solo Now a keyboard solo Now a harmonica solo Now beatbox, no go? Maybe the former The TRANSFORMER of course. I hope I live to see that one day. Yes.
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79
*She was unaware about the way of the world Radiant beauty did capture the vagabond heart Trampling along the green meandering path Where not any traveler have set their foot Walked across the ****** valley and yonder The ***** came to the crystal clear stream Aware of his thirst, from the endless wandering He stooped to drink from the sweet stream Unaware of the maiden’s presence, who tip-toed Busy was he drinking to quench his thirst For the first time was he aware of the maiden Vagabond heart captured by the reflection’s beauty He kissed her reflection, making the maiden blush At the twilight the eyes meet, making the hearts flounder Radiant beauty did capture the vagabond heart*
0
Aug 13, 2014
Aug 13, 2014 at 10:27 AM UTC
amitav
Vagabond Heart
*She was unaware about the way of the world Radiant beauty did capture the vagabond heart Trampling along the green meandering path Where not any traveler have set their foot Walked across the ****** valley and yonder The ***** came to the crystal clear stream Aware of his thirst, from the endless wandering He stooped to drink from the sweet stream Unaware of the maiden’s presence, who tip-toed Busy was he drinking to quench his thirst For the first time was he aware of the maiden Vagabond heart captured by the reflection’s beauty He kissed her reflection, making the maiden blush At the twilight the eyes meet, making the hearts flounder Radiant beauty did capture the vagabond heart*
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15
I ride on her coat tails,he sails at odd angles and angels come calling, stalling for time,pretending, I mime I can't talk and walk to the bowsprit to spit in the ocean. In that slow motion of epiphany I see what will and can never be and it all becomes clear to me,I spit again in the sea,cross my fingers for luck,tell the angels to f..... No, I don't swear out loud,I want the good Lord's protection,in signs,more mimes,they get what I'm meaning. The moonbeams gleam off deck boards as the pendulum swings,things are taking shape and the ship sings through the waters,but later in the doldrums where the dolphins knit sweaters and the daughters of sirens play canasta with mermaids while braiding dreams with the seaweed, I need to take a fix on the noon day sun, a hand on my gun lest the latitude betray me,I lay in a course for the Island of Tahiti where the girls sway and greet me,the old dog from the sea. It's easy to be a madman on the sea when the salt is your spice and I've never thought twice about the angels sent packing,just went on stacking up bookmarks to feed the circling sharks,stark and unfriendly would the sea ever lend me a bed to lay down in?would this ship that I sail in ever founder,I flounder and flail but I sail into the moonlight,on a bright night you'll see me until the sunsets will free me to the tidal eternity of the sea deep within me.
0
Dec 3, 2013
Dec 3, 2013 at 1:09 AM UTC
john-edward-smallshaw
Andromeda
I ride on her coat tails,he sails at odd angles and angels come calling, stalling for time,pretending, I mime I can't talk and walk to the bowsprit to spit in the ocean. In that slow motion of epiphany I see what will and can never be and it all becomes clear to me,I spit again in the sea,cross my fingers for luck,tell the angels to f..... No, I don't swear out loud,I want the good Lord's protection,in signs,more mimes,they get what I'm meaning. The moonbeams gleam off deck boards as the pendulum swings,things are taking shape and the ship sings through the waters,but later in the doldrums where the dolphins knit sweaters and the daughters of sirens play canasta with mermaids while braiding dreams with the seaweed, I need to take a fix on the noon day sun, a hand on my gun lest the latitude betray me,I lay in a course for the Island of Tahiti where the girls sway and greet me,the old dog from the sea. It's easy to be a madman on the sea when the salt is your spice and I've never thought twice about the angels sent packing,just went on stacking up bookmarks to feed the circling sharks,stark and unfriendly would the sea ever lend me a bed to lay down in?would this ship that I sail in ever founder,I flounder and flail but I sail into the moonlight,on a bright night you'll see me until the sunsets will free me to the tidal eternity of the sea deep within me.
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8
Honestly, I think about you every single day. From the moment we first met, To this moment today. You simply amaze, My heart is ablaze; I fell for you in all sorts of ways. Now here I am, missing you today, As I sit here in silence, my heart feels astray. And as the day comes to an end, The thought of you drifts into my mind. I lay back to relax, After all, dreaming of you helps me unwind. As I close my eyes, The thought of us drifts through my head. We're going places, Full speed ahead. You take my hand, We're running through a prairie. And before I know it, We're surrounded by fairies. To our left, there's a pirate, Who's missing a hand? "Look, flying above us! It's Peter Pan!" So Neverland is where you've decided to take me. Where we never grow old, stay young, and fly freely. Well, now it's my turn, Take my hand and count down from three. I'll give you a hint, We'll be deep beneath the sea. As you open your eyes you gasp! We're right beside a whale. I point down, "Look, you've got a tail! Come, follow me, Through the deep blue sea. I'll introduce you to my friends, And of course, Chef Louis." We swim down through a city, To a palace, we are let in, Where we meet Ariel, Flounder, Sebastian, and of course, King Triton. A throwback to our childhood, At least for me, "I know you love water, So let loose Swim free" After a while, You give me a kiss, "What was that for?" I ask "It's for all of this" You smile and say "Even though this is great, It's my turn now, And I cannot wait." You take my hand, As we swim towards the sky. "This time will be different, It'll be just you and I." "Where are we going?" I begin to ask. "You'll see soon enough, Now put on this mask..." "I feel so distant, It's silent, are we far?" You slide off my mask, "Look at all those beautiful stars." I stand there in awe, Then look back to your face. "Dear, wh-where are we?" "You dingus, we're in space." All around there are stars passing by. To our right, To our left, Low and high. "Dear, this is wonderful, I love space!" "I know," you say. "It's an amazing place." I hold your hands, This dream has been so fine. I lean towards you, And feel your lips press up against mine. As I open my eyes, I'm back in my bed. And missing you, Well, That's back in my head.
0
Jun 27, 2019
Jun 27, 2019 at 4:17 PM UTC
guy-furniture
Magical
Honestly, I think about you every single day. From the moment we first met, To this moment today. You simply amaze, My heart is ablaze; I fell for you in all sorts of ways. Now here I am, missing you today, As I sit here in silence, my heart feels astray. And as the day comes to an end, The thought of you drifts into my mind. I lay back to relax, After all, dreaming of you helps me unwind. As I close my eyes, The thought of us drifts through my head. We're going places, Full speed ahead. You take my hand, We're running through a prairie. And before I know it, We're surrounded by fairies. To our left, there's a pirate, Who's missing a hand? "Look, flying above us! It's Peter Pan!" So Neverland is where you've decided to take me. Where we never grow old, stay young, and fly freely. Well, now it's my turn, Take my hand and count down from three. I'll give you a hint, We'll be deep beneath the sea. As you open your eyes you gasp! We're right beside a whale. I point down, "Look, you've got a tail! Come, follow me, Through the deep blue sea. I'll introduce you to my friends, And of course, Chef Louis." We swim down through a city, To a palace, we are let in, Where we meet Ariel, Flounder, Sebastian, and of course, King Triton. A throwback to our childhood, At least for me, "I know you love water, So let loose Swim free" After a while, You give me a kiss, "What was that for?" I ask "It's for all of this" You smile and say "Even though this is great, It's my turn now, And I cannot wait." You take my hand, As we swim towards the sky. "This time will be different, It'll be just you and I." "Where are we going?" I begin to ask. "You'll see soon enough, Now put on this mask..." "I feel so distant, It's silent, are we far?" You slide off my mask, "Look at all those beautiful stars." I stand there in awe, Then look back to your face. "Dear, wh-where are we?" "You dingus, we're in space." All around there are stars passing by. To our right, To our left, Low and high. "Dear, this is wonderful, I love space!" "I know," you say. "It's an amazing place." I hold your hands, This dream has been so fine. I lean towards you, And feel your lips press up against mine. As I open my eyes, I'm back in my bed. And missing you, Well, That's back in my head.
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90
I mean, it felt like I was a dead fish Or something, left to rot out there in the sun, Left there on purpose, you know, like it was A threat—and Charles, it stinks—you know that?— —the stench of all those old thoughts— Yeah, thoughts…you know, Like guppies maybe, sturgeon, or flounder. You laugh? Why? Fish can think, can’t they? They flounder. Suppose as we grow old the ancient thoughts Appear as songs a child might sing—sotto voce. Suppose they’re like the masks the actors wore In some Commedia dell’Arte farce, Or like the web a spider strings across A road, hidden, dark, all subtle tension, The strands still wet with the coagulate air… Too wet to breath, Charles, way too wet. There’s more. Suppose a face inside that mask Looks back, looks out. Suppose the rings run circles round The eyes, for fear. Suppose it’s an old face of yours, Charles, smiling too, with all that sullen pride You once were so capable of…so proud. This is not the Lone Ranger, kimosabi. Not Zorro either. Man is least himself When he talks in his own person. So let’s Try on that mask, shall we? One for you and one for me. Masks aplenty, masks abound, Masks askance… There, it fits. Welcome, Charles. Welcome back. And welcome ghost. …a ghost to prompt you in your mask, a ghost off stage, and hoarse from shouting, diaphanous, just like the real thing: for curiously, at that moment while he is in you, in situ, as it were, I will be left au naturel—yeah, me—king for a day. We were all meant to crawl away from the sea, were we not? …and I count the collective ghosts here too, Charles… … atavistic, frightened, unaneled, and openly integumentary (thus, open to the sea, but repellant to air) —owls, Orion, a star-scarred sky, too cold to breath that night, too cold not to, eh, Charles? Like Don Quixote and Sancho Panza, like Hamlet and Horatio, out with the watch, in search of ghosts and fathers… ghosts and fathers, Charles. You remember that? Back then, when you used to listen to me when I spoke. You did listen, then, Charles when I said things, right? All those old thoughts… When I could sing… Charles?
0
Feb 15, 2010
Feb 15, 2010 at 8:52 AM UTC
jim-kleinhenz
Charles?
I mean, it felt like I was a dead fish Or something, left to rot out there in the sun, Left there on purpose, you know, like it was A threat—and Charles, it stinks—you know that?— —the stench of all those old thoughts— Yeah, thoughts…you know, Like guppies maybe, sturgeon, or flounder. You laugh? Why? Fish can think, can’t they? They flounder. Suppose as we grow old the ancient thoughts Appear as songs a child might sing—sotto voce. Suppose they’re like the masks the actors wore In some Commedia dell’Arte farce, Or like the web a spider strings across A road, hidden, dark, all subtle tension, The strands still wet with the coagulate air… Too wet to breath, Charles, way too wet. There’s more. Suppose a face inside that mask Looks back, looks out. Suppose the rings run circles round The eyes, for fear. Suppose it’s an old face of yours, Charles, smiling too, with all that sullen pride You once were so capable of…so proud. This is not the Lone Ranger, kimosabi. Not Zorro either. Man is least himself When he talks in his own person. So let’s Try on that mask, shall we? One for you and one for me. Masks aplenty, masks abound, Masks askance… There, it fits. Welcome, Charles. Welcome back. And welcome ghost. …a ghost to prompt you in your mask, a ghost off stage, and hoarse from shouting, diaphanous, just like the real thing: for curiously, at that moment while he is in you, in situ, as it were, I will be left au naturel—yeah, me—king for a day. We were all meant to crawl away from the sea, were we not? …and I count the collective ghosts here too, Charles… … atavistic, frightened, unaneled, and openly integumentary (thus, open to the sea, but repellant to air) —owls, Orion, a star-scarred sky, too cold to breath that night, too cold not to, eh, Charles? Like Don Quixote and Sancho Panza, like Hamlet and Horatio, out with the watch, in search of ghosts and fathers… ghosts and fathers, Charles. You remember that? Back then, when you used to listen to me when I spoke. You did listen, then, Charles when I said things, right? All those old thoughts… When I could sing… Charles?
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59
My sensibilities are broken, How dare you turn me into this? Learning to live without you Is learning to live so dangerously. Gone are the halcyon days of Danger, danger... Where’s my coffee? I fell in love, (That's what I do) I fell, before I ever knew just what that kind of bitter was. It tastes just like it always does, And I can't keep it longer on my tongue. Dear distant stranger, I would like to get to know you But I’m afraid I’ve no more quarters for the telephone. Oh well, I guess it’s not okay. I’ll hotwire my way anyway. I guess I’m getting sorta good at being where I know I shouldn’t. I guess I never really saw you as vulnerable With love all around But now I see you’re just as broken. (Well that’s just my luck this round). And I guess I could be a life preserver, But honey that’s not my job, And I’d grow weary-sick of ******** -Need to wash the neon orange off- Well, you wouldn’t want it anyway. Flounder, drown your dreams away. Look at me and look at you too, I’ve made you an animal in the zoo. I’m gawking, Always do this, Talking, Like ‘Come on now, let's do this’. Shut up and break these tiny voices Telling me what I ought to do. Convince me that there is no cycle And that I'm not just Giving my life to people and my heart to their ideas.
0
Sep 24, 2012
Sep 24, 2012 at 11:44 AM UTC
subconscious-on-parade
It's Monday here as well.
My sensibilities are broken, How dare you turn me into this? Learning to live without you Is learning to live so dangerously. Gone are the halcyon days of Danger, danger... Where’s my coffee? I fell in love, (That's what I do) I fell, before I ever knew just what that kind of bitter was. It tastes just like it always does, And I can't keep it longer on my tongue. Dear distant stranger, I would like to get to know you But I’m afraid I’ve no more quarters for the telephone. Oh well, I guess it’s not okay. I’ll hotwire my way anyway. I guess I’m getting sorta good at being where I know I shouldn’t. I guess I never really saw you as vulnerable With love all around But now I see you’re just as broken. (Well that’s just my luck this round). And I guess I could be a life preserver, But honey that’s not my job, And I’d grow weary-sick of ******** -Need to wash the neon orange off- Well, you wouldn’t want it anyway. Flounder, drown your dreams away. Look at me and look at you too, I’ve made you an animal in the zoo. I’m gawking, Always do this, Talking, Like ‘Come on now, let's do this’. Shut up and break these tiny voices Telling me what I ought to do. Convince me that there is no cycle And that I'm not just Giving my life to people and my heart to their ideas.
Continue reading...
45