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"fom" poems
I know what I am, I know who I am, But I am not sure who I am, Or what I am, They call me Black, I do not know if I am Black, They call me African, But am I African, Where these names came from, I wonder, Maybe they are just nicknames, Yes, Fom those historical enermies who were up to degrade me, I do not know who I am, But I know for sure I'm just a poor millionaire, Poor in Western materialistic classification, I know I am Umuntu, A millionaire Umuntu, Rich in Ubuntu, But that's not all, I'm in search of my identity, I need to know who the hell I am, For I am black and African, But I'm neither Black Nor African.
0
Mar 13, 2015
Mar 13, 2015 at 8:01 AM UTC
Black and African but neither Black nor African
crisp pages indented fom my pen's point, whisper beneath the dry skin of my cracked palm. they flutter together, butterfly wings, and weave together a time so melodious.
0
Nov 18, 2014
Nov 18, 2014 at 6:59 PM UTC
-
If you can't see, How can you expect to be free, Sitting on your knee, Taking it all, Paying a hidden fee, To the engine. Selling your soul, Thinking you're not part of the sin, And then wondering why does it smell so foul. You're in it, And so am I, And so are the masses. Programmed over the eras, To chase the escape, Forgetting that it's just vape. Who are we kiddin? We all can see, Fom the seats we're sitting in, Absorbing the malicious, Expelling the benevolence, and being blatantly shameless, Forgetting that such an exsistence should be nameless. But here we are, Here we are, Smitten by the evil kitten, Claiming what can we do, What can we do? Who are you shittin? Who are we shittin? But ain't it fittin. I guess we do belong, We did reap what we sowed, And we did it all together. Here's a pill, Forget that it'll make you ill, But this is it. There is no escape. So why are we looking for salvation, In the new phone, In the company raise, In the new hand bag. Same fallacy, Different phase, Moving on. The salvation you seek, Is something that you'll find inside, And even when you do, She will never stick around. So accept, That every day won't be amazing, And don't forget, That everyday doesn't have to be bad, And that's what this life is made of, Till the day we all are just vape.
0
Oct 13, 2015
Oct 13, 2015 at 7:45 PM UTC
Untitled
i was walking through the woods just the other day then i heard a noise not so far away so i took a look to see what it could be it was coming fom a hole at the bottom of a tree then i looked inside there i saw a frog just inside the tree sat upon a log the poor frog was crying with tears upon his face he was very lost and lost his froggy place then i picked him up and took him to his home now the frog was happy and never again did roam.
0
Aug 21, 2010
Aug 21, 2010 at 7:54 AM UTC
lost frog
me no spit English, me no no Englis, OK? me barbarrrian, why u one me speak Englis? u teach me inglish then u want me slave, ya? u teach me englis and mik mee go from nuture, from da trees and de lakes and hum of me ancesdors, ya? and you teach me englis glive me your stinkin additudes mik me pollute wold and **** wold like you, yes? I del u, me spit no englis but sdill u offer skolarsips and mik me shange name, and then tick on Englis name, ya? then peeple call me englis name like tom, ***** hairy or my wife become susan or margate and me become kristian, yeah? why I say no englis still u want to tich me englsi and give me book and mi say, mi say, luk at my nikid bady laik da die I was born liiiv me one don't tiich me englis or wan day I will kurs and swera in inglis like who, who, who, like that monster I hard play story is he nime Caliban, yeah? me barbarrbaian, dun't mike i civilized like u; me no no inglis; me happi with me lunguge and me hum and my trees and likes and annncesdral places¦ I no wants to spit engilsi and khanges my name and culturte! and un I no wan to go fom humen! leave me lone wan, I say! me no spit englis! or I put u in *** if you no go!
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Oct 17, 2010
Oct 17, 2010 at 3:06 AM UTC
me no spit englis
Dear Mr first name only somethings ya do dont really make sense. But even a drunk like me has to say it's enough. Cause my drunk *** cant even stand let alone strattle a fence. Points was the first straw my invisable friend. To make ten comments for a point. Well i got far better things to do with my weekend. And one night as from the bar i did crawl. Thought i was just drunk off my *** But dam if ya didnt take down the wall. But it's okay cause if ya wanna be on the list you can always buy a place. Ya know your dealing with poets right? Hey some kid just took his parents credit card and stole my place. Mr Elliot should i stay silent in fear. It's hard to shut a good drunk up. Was it you that put that horse head in my bed and drank all my beer? And while certin people gave us the name they gave my foggy mind a idea to. If ya keep us going at each other then that keeps us fom going after you. Mr Elliot please dont read this and make me dissapear. For I'll take refuge in my pub. hide behind the women and gaurd the rear. Yes im the ressident ******** and clown. The bartender to the masses. Who preaches drink up and get down. If it aint broke Mr Elliot lets **** with it till it is. Let me hand ya a beer. Shake it up good and watch it fizz. Hello I hope this isnt goodbye. Cause it just aint much fun without Gonzo. Im a drunk a *** a nut a pervert and a pretty nice guy. Dear Mr Elliot sending me away wasnt very nice. When i think vacation I think sun and sand. Not the north pole hey were the ***** santa? Well least for my drinks i got pleanty of ice.
0
Mar 16, 2010
Mar 16, 2010 at 9:31 AM UTC
Mr Elliot
Dear Mr first name only somethings ya do dont really make sense. But even a drunk like me has to say it's enough. Cause my drunk *** cant even stand let alone strattle a fence. Points was the first straw my invisable friend. To make ten comments for a point. Well i got far better things to do with my weekend. And one night as from the bar i did crawl. Thought i was just drunk off my *** But dam if ya didnt take down the wall. But it's okay cause if ya wanna be on the list you can always buy a place. Ya know your dealing with poets right? Hey some kid just took his parents credit card and stole my place. Mr Elliot should i stay silent in fear. It's hard to shut a good drunk up. Was it you that put that horse head in my bed and drank all my beer? And while certin people gave us the name they gave my foggy mind a idea to. If ya keep us going at each other then that keeps us fom going after you. Mr Elliot please dont read this and make me dissapear. For I'll take refuge in my pub. hide behind the women and gaurd the rear. Yes im the ressident ******** and clown. The bartender to the masses. Who preaches drink up and get down. If it aint broke Mr Elliot lets **** with it till it is. Let me hand ya a beer. Shake it up good and watch it fizz. Hello I hope this isnt goodbye. Cause it just aint much fun without Gonzo. Im a drunk a *** a nut a pervert and a pretty nice guy. Dear Mr Elliot sending me away wasnt very nice. When i think vacation I think sun and sand. Not the north pole hey were the ***** santa? Well least for my drinks i got pleanty of ice.
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40
Just tell you that you are my bestest friend I had. When I started school from the beginning of the year you didn't let me down and you defend me from others and I defended you fom others you have friends I have friends your friends are my friends and my friends are your friends. I love you a lot you are like my cousin and sister (sis) love you a lot
0
Mar 15, 2014
Mar 15, 2014 at 9:22 AM UTC
Just tell you
*Together we stand, Making up the snow-white abyss. Our souls, alike, become one. Then I realize how only a memory is this. And how the love I once felt is gone. Alone now, only I stand, The painful nothingness that surrounds. My soul and body seem forever apart... Consciousness returns-and so I remember... What has brought me here from the start. If only I could see you one las time... In presence, apart fom only in mind. With helpless hope I search again. Though I know nothing is all I will find; No life is left; my existance seems dead. Maybe the memories of you that are in my heart Are enough to keep me strong... But when I realize, in the world around me, you're gone, I break down...I just can't go along... I suffer when I let myself know we're really apart. Day apon night I continue to endure this... Sometimes I wonder if you too can't bare, Or if the white-abyss finds you as well. Would you too have been there? Is this pain something we share? I force myself back to happiness; Into the wonderful, safe abyss. Yet this time when I begin to dream... I see the truth I needn't to miss; And I just can't make true this wish.*
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Feb 21, 2012
Feb 21, 2012 at 3:03 PM UTC
You're Still Gone
in the middle of seeing islands of fog the roots disconnected fom the branches of thought was it like this: you do not deserve to be the vitality of forms, do not exist we were told while breathing do not exist in your bodies do not exist in your minds some dreams are just silly dumb as that daylight throats are full of words of unshed thinking of noise so loud that the world might have imploded dark circles of impossible pain contain our ribs why are you here you were told, we don't want you we  can not witness the joy of life with our teeth full of something we don't understand our eyes are holding the light captive like a knife full of strife why are we here why the fog obscures the echo why are we here why
0
Aug 4, 2023
Aug 4, 2023 at 12:19 AM UTC
why
*It's okay, It's alright, You have yourself, Just like you do every night. You're at your worst? Well so be it... They didn't see that your hearts unfit? Then so be it. You hold that heart, and you tuck yourself, Command your breaths To fall into context, The world will be there tomorrow, And the day will fall fom your hardened grip, The landslide will come to curve, The drought will leave no tears to shed. Even if you have to be the ocean, The sun, the moon and the land, To walk yourself to the last shore, You've got yourself to understand. You can be that push of courage, You can be the one to soothe, Nothing in this world matters, Not even this heavy weight of blues. You wanna bet? You're at your worst? Then so be it..*
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May 24, 2017
May 24, 2017 at 7:45 PM UTC
So be it..
A piece of the story flashed in the corner of the image wall.... Part of the past are back on stage and playing in memories.... Although the time has begun to obsolete but all will never be vanished.... Many cues that can not be conveyed yet.... Until the story didn't get to be continued.... In drizzle side that disturbing your figure fom this mind.... The rhythm of the wind conveying the sigh of longing.... Although the past isn't a lot tells about us.... If the time can be pulling back.... And hope all goes according to my wish.... Coloring sketch of the sky soul.... Carve many stories.... Share a story with you .. Cheer spread on your face.... Dismissed all the doubts that exist about you.... And together we're dyeing the dusk canvas with the wording.... In the flow of time we can only remember.... it's not possible to go back there.... Because this is only "a piece of the story"
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Dec 19, 2013
Dec 19, 2013 at 8:46 PM UTC
A piece of the story
He was sitting alone by the window In hopes that the phone would ring, Just as he’d sat there every day Since she’d disappeared last Spring, But snow now lay in the gutter, Was glistening up in the trees, And his thoughts would stray fom the words he’d pray, ‘Won’t you please come home, Louise!’ The phone lay stubbornly silent, The snow untouched in the street, There wasn’t a cart or a tyremark, Nor even a sign of feet. The sky was louring grey outside As it was, the day she went, He wished he knew, but hadn’t a clue There had been no argument. He’d thought perhaps she’d been taken, Had struggled, against her will, But there’d been no sign of a ransom, The phone had stayed silent still. He’d asked her friends in the neighborhood What she’d said, could they recall? But all of them said Louise was good, That nothing stood out at all. Her clothes still hung in the wardrobe, And gave off their faint perfume, As days went by he would sit and cry Could barely go in the room, The Police were as good as useless, Inferred she’d taken a walk, ‘She’s probably got a new boyfriend, If only your walls could talk.’ The only clue that he’d ever found Was a script in a bag she’d left, He found the word unpronounceable But strange that the script was kept, She wasn’t a one for keeping things She said there were bins for that, She’d thrown out even a friendship ring And an old and beaten hat. One day there were footsteps through the snow Wound up at his own front door, He raced to open the doorway up But the footsteps stopped at the floor, There wasn’t a sign they’d gone away, There wasn’t a sign of retreat, Whoever had come to his front door Was still out there in the street. He went back into the study then And gazed through the sudden rain, He never knew when the phone rang through It would cause him so much pain. A voice intoned, ‘If you’re on your own, Sit down, are you Brian Drew?’ And then went on with its dismal song ‘I’ve a message to pass to you.’ ‘This is the Somerhill Hospice, with A body, ready to claim, It’s up to you, but it’s Louise Drew She left a note with your name. She finally died this morning from That tumour, found on her lung, We didn’t know she was married, though, That note was under her tongue.’ ‘She didn’t want you to suffer, it Was better she went away, She wrote she hadn’t told anyone But came in as Louise Grey.’ Brian’s face became bloodless at The wet footsteps in the hall, Then took in the silent nothingness, And threw the phone at the wall. David Lewis Paget
0
Aug 20, 2015
Aug 20, 2015 at 7:11 AM UTC
The Phone Call
He was sitting alone by the window In hopes that the phone would ring, Just as he’d sat there every day Since she’d disappeared last Spring, But snow now lay in the gutter, Was glistening up in the trees, And his thoughts would stray fom the words he’d pray, ‘Won’t you please come home, Louise!’ The phone lay stubbornly silent, The snow untouched in the street, There wasn’t a cart or a tyremark, Nor even a sign of feet. The sky was louring grey outside As it was, the day she went, He wished he knew, but hadn’t a clue There had been no argument. He’d thought perhaps she’d been taken, Had struggled, against her will, But there’d been no sign of a ransom, The phone had stayed silent still. He’d asked her friends in the neighborhood What she’d said, could they recall? But all of them said Louise was good, That nothing stood out at all. Her clothes still hung in the wardrobe, And gave off their faint perfume, As days went by he would sit and cry Could barely go in the room, The Police were as good as useless, Inferred she’d taken a walk, ‘She’s probably got a new boyfriend, If only your walls could talk.’ The only clue that he’d ever found Was a script in a bag she’d left, He found the word unpronounceable But strange that the script was kept, She wasn’t a one for keeping things She said there were bins for that, She’d thrown out even a friendship ring And an old and beaten hat. One day there were footsteps through the snow Wound up at his own front door, He raced to open the doorway up But the footsteps stopped at the floor, There wasn’t a sign they’d gone away, There wasn’t a sign of retreat, Whoever had come to his front door Was still out there in the street. He went back into the study then And gazed through the sudden rain, He never knew when the phone rang through It would cause him so much pain. A voice intoned, ‘If you’re on your own, Sit down, are you Brian Drew?’ And then went on with its dismal song ‘I’ve a message to pass to you.’ ‘This is the Somerhill Hospice, with A body, ready to claim, It’s up to you, but it’s Louise Drew She left a note with your name. She finally died this morning from That tumour, found on her lung, We didn’t know she was married, though, That note was under her tongue.’ ‘She didn’t want you to suffer, it Was better she went away, She wrote she hadn’t told anyone But came in as Louise Grey.’ Brian’s face became bloodless at The wet footsteps in the hall, Then took in the silent nothingness, And threw the phone at the wall. David Lewis Paget
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73
THE CHINESE WERE RICH, ORDERED OYSTERS, CLAMS AND YAMS, STEAK, BREAD AND BEER, IT DIDN'T REALLY MATTER WHAT WAS DEAR, OUT OF HOURS WAS A REFUGE FOM SHOWERS, IT WAS NO PROBLEM WITH SPECIAL POWERS; ' WE' LL BUILD A HIGH - RISE LAH, SO FAR, SO GOOD, A WINNER, IF ONLY WE COULD ......... ,' 'HAVE ANOTHER BEER, THEN WE'RE OUTA HERE,' 'DID YOU SEE THAT GUY ON THE COURSE? HE MUST HAVE HAD FIFTY CLUBS IN THE BAG LAH, YOU WOULDN'T THINK HE COULD PUSH THE TROLLEY THAT FAR,' ' HA, HA! I'LL FIND YOU A NEW BAG FOR YOUR WOODS, NO, NOT TIGER, FOOL, HE SHOULD STICK TO POOL,' ' YEAH, LIKE YOUR BEER - NO LONGER COOL LAH!'
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Feb 3, 2016
Feb 3, 2016 at 12:33 AM UTC
A DIFFERENT BAR
What shall we eat, My tiny man, With fingers white as bone. The black bird nest A badgers breast, The story fom a stone. Who will pluck my eyes from me, The wriggling tongue that gibbers, The earthen sod, The Ravens nod The moon out from the river. Bat speak violin, Toad speak drum, Fly childer, raise skin CreepWillows hum
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Feb 8, 2015
Feb 8, 2015 at 6:12 PM UTC
CreepWillow
I'm a dreamer......I dream the unreal Reality for me is quite surreal I am not pragmatic Just at times a bit sarcastic Hatred is annoying Love is pacifying Would be suffice..... .....to say dat I value sacrifice At times feel fed up of livin' in this domain of enchantment Would like to run away and live in solitary confinement At times am paranoid by hustle and bustle of the city The condition of the village folks fills my heart with pity The everyday routine of life is just so mundane The 11 to 6 stuff feels kinda' insane...... Wanna escape from life just like an escapist Fear is something we can't run from.....sooner or later we gotta face it I ain't gonna appear in the books of history Might as well vanish off the planet like a mystery Have I lost my clarity of thoughts? Life seems blank....can't seem to connect the dots I'm not a bad guy.....just at times suffer fom frustration Need a shoulder to rest my head....just need some motivation I just wanna be heard.....don't need my name up in lights Am a calm guy........never really get into fights I feel as if i'm stuck in a tricky maze Gotta clear my mind....seems to in a state of haze At times i'm confused and dazed The beauty of girls just leaves me amazed I rap about love......rap about hate.... You can't manipulate me.....can't use me as a bait.... Superstition is nothin' more than a fallacy Loyalty nowadays is quite a rarity The path to glory is always filled with resistance In the end it's the experience dat matters and not the journey's distance I used to have an idea of where I stand But now the idea's slipped right out of my hands I don't who I am and where i'm going The current of life is guiding my boat....i'm simply rowing I'm done with bein' a ***** and sheddin' tears..... It's time to be brave and conquer my fears Gotta re-ignite my spirit....gotta keep the fire burnin' No more lookin' back....no more turnin' I need some time.....need some space...... Can't live no more within this crazy human race... Wanna embark upon a path of rediscovery Wanna improve my life and dispel off my misery At times the thought of isolation scares me.... It strips me off my sense of morals and bares me But when I give it a deep thought I realize...."Isolation's been my inspiration." I gotta leave...gotta go.... There's nothin' here for me no more.... I gotta be free.......I gotta be... .....Somewhere that I can just be me.
0
Jun 20, 2015
Jun 20, 2015 at 5:19 AM UTC
In search of myself
I'm a dreamer......I dream the unreal Reality for me is quite surreal I am not pragmatic Just at times a bit sarcastic Hatred is annoying Love is pacifying Would be suffice..... .....to say dat I value sacrifice At times feel fed up of livin' in this domain of enchantment Would like to run away and live in solitary confinement At times am paranoid by hustle and bustle of the city The condition of the village folks fills my heart with pity The everyday routine of life is just so mundane The 11 to 6 stuff feels kinda' insane...... Wanna escape from life just like an escapist Fear is something we can't run from.....sooner or later we gotta face it I ain't gonna appear in the books of history Might as well vanish off the planet like a mystery Have I lost my clarity of thoughts? Life seems blank....can't seem to connect the dots I'm not a bad guy.....just at times suffer fom frustration Need a shoulder to rest my head....just need some motivation I just wanna be heard.....don't need my name up in lights Am a calm guy........never really get into fights I feel as if i'm stuck in a tricky maze Gotta clear my mind....seems to in a state of haze At times i'm confused and dazed The beauty of girls just leaves me amazed I rap about love......rap about hate.... You can't manipulate me.....can't use me as a bait.... Superstition is nothin' more than a fallacy Loyalty nowadays is quite a rarity The path to glory is always filled with resistance In the end it's the experience dat matters and not the journey's distance I used to have an idea of where I stand But now the idea's slipped right out of my hands I don't who I am and where i'm going The current of life is guiding my boat....i'm simply rowing I'm done with bein' a ***** and sheddin' tears..... It's time to be brave and conquer my fears Gotta re-ignite my spirit....gotta keep the fire burnin' No more lookin' back....no more turnin' I need some time.....need some space...... Can't live no more within this crazy human race... Wanna embark upon a path of rediscovery Wanna improve my life and dispel off my misery At times the thought of isolation scares me.... It strips me off my sense of morals and bares me But when I give it a deep thought I realize...."Isolation's been my inspiration." I gotta leave...gotta go.... There's nothin' here for me no more.... I gotta be free.......I gotta be... .....Somewhere that I can just be me.
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53
Feeling Like a Man, Thinking like a Child heart is searching for the answers when it should be the brain doing the work feelings of a grown wanting man but a child's mind reaching thru the murk rainbow's colors blinding the naked eye living in a dreamscape of the future throat goes desert dry as I begin to cry in this grown up game of tug-of-war like curious George wanting to know swinging on this vine of aching love questions should I stay should I go looking up but nothing fom above never wanting to cause a bit of pain looking for a sunbeam through the rain I must be crazy have I gone insane rose sunglasses and a pearl white cane this piece of work cannot explain the consequences that come to mind if I do this wrong can I do this right feeling like a man thinking like a child Gomer LePoet...
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Jul 3, 2013
Jul 3, 2013 at 7:17 AM UTC
Feeling Like a Man, Thinking like a Child (r)
Where, when How......... Do I regain Consolation Fom this Hurting The answers Will not Come I know And when I am consoled I will reread this Poem And remember
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Aug 13, 2014
Aug 13, 2014 at 4:31 PM UTC
Solace
I CITY OF WOE IS WHAT THEY CALLED THIS PLACE CROWDED WITH DEPRAVED SOULS THAT WILL FOREVER RACE, PURSUING A BANNER,THROUGH A BLACK HAZE FOR THEIR LIVES CONCLUDED NEITHER BLAME NOR PRAISE II A SITE FULL OF PAINS AND LAMENTATION NO WORD OF THEM SURVIVES THEIR LIVING SEASON AND IN THEIR BLIND AND UNATTAINING STATE THEY MUST ENVY EVERY OTHER FATE III GO!BEGONE FROM THIS PLACE FULL OF SORROW TAKE CARE OF YOUR LIFE THAT YOU ONLY BORROW AVOID WRONGDOINGS,KEEP ON DOING GOOD SO BY ALMIGHTY GOD,YOU WONT BE SCOURGED IV BE GOOD ENOUGH TO FOLLOW GO'S COMMANDMENTS LOVE YUR ENEMIES, AVOID CHASTISEMENTS FOR GOD HATE THOSE PERSONS LIKE THAT AND HE LET THEM SUFFER FOM HIS WRATH V DONT LIVE THIS LIFE JUST FOR YOUR OWN TRY TO BE SELFLESS,BE  A MOTIVATION SERVE AS SOMEONES INSPIRATON, AND GLORIFY OUR FATHER,AS IS OWN NATION VI THESE ARE THE THINGS YOU NEED TO DO FOR YOU TO AVOID BEING IN HELL TOO LETS KEEP DOING GOOD TOGETHER AND ALWAYS FOLLOW ALL OF GODS ORDER...
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Sep 18, 2017
Sep 18, 2017 at 5:40 AM UTC
Ways to Paradise
i live in the plexiglass separating the people fom the snakes. the elephants. the people.
0
Oct 21, 2015
Oct 21, 2015 at 9:57 PM UTC
i live in my neighbors house
in the spring and agave falling with rain coming in.. my heart a mad thing light a caste stone all blue and emerald green! i remember the springs lord in crete in crete.. ii when i was young and awed by nearly everything the blasted beat.. my brain a fried egg.. i looked in the mirror and stared who the **** was that there.. the blasted heat the autumn sun and wind and i was a beach *** in my winter hut the day a paper´s cut away fom a soft blinding night.. iii when i was young.. iv small bamboo constructions right bang next to the surf.. with some red wine.. thus illiminating the rent man.. stars and the moon.. and phospherous.. i had my guitar and sang a song.. v when i was young.. vi in crete in spring is breath taken from sweet gods lip.. ambrosia broken.. a flailed heart trip the blossems and a load of pure beauty.. in crete in spring i found me.. i observed others do like wise.. they shon and carried on.. in spring when i was young played backgammon and drank cognac no problem no problem... vi to sail the clipper the crow´s nest quiver s in the grey brine gulls dip their soaring smiles lost in mine.. love in horizons lost in prayer late too shiver eyes of god in bathes my soul one great river..! v
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Mar 25, 2018
Mar 25, 2018 at 8:33 AM UTC
spring
She didn't like where she came fom The smell of poverty, the curse of ignorance Like a cloak draped round her every move She stumbled and struggled. But defience and armour were hers too. From deep within there screamed a voice These are not yours. Take back your curses evil witch You bore no good you stupid ***** Take back your prattle, rattle Now within your empty coffin. For you are gone but I am free Not tribe not blood not place not kin Expose the soul that lies within.
0
May 26, 2016
May 26, 2016 at 1:43 PM UTC
Untitled
the heart it makes us live and makes the blood flow round it controls our love as it begins to pound gives us our emotions that we have inside there inside the heart where emotion hides it can tell your body when your love is true there  with every heart beat deep inside of you
0
Feb 4, 2014
Feb 4, 2014 at 3:02 PM UTC
love fom the heart
everybody as a ghost it lives inside your the host in your body it will dwell there inside your body shell it is there until you die then fom your body it will fly from your soul it will free from your body it will flee searching for another shell where once again it can dwell it will stay again once more.as it did the time before.
0
Apr 18, 2014
Apr 18, 2014 at 8:37 AM UTC
everybody has a ghost