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"french" poems
dedicated to all the better poets here... don't know much about a quatrain don't know how to write a refrain, surely could not compose a courtyard elegy maybe after and still untilled, I been buried, 'n checked out the neighborhood competition... as for limerick, that is Dr. Seuss and Ogden Nash's shtick with whom, eye, a believed descendant, cannot compete... Oh dear me,   no ode node-ed within, as for a pastoral, kinda hard to feat, where I live, a pastoral is grass cracks surviving under, breaking through to the other side of concrete and blacktop rulers Maybe one of you will haiku, send us a senryu, send off, see ya! the doc once diagnosed a severe case of inflamed iambic pentametery, with antibiotics and a diet of Hamletery, was cured most satisfactorily this silly pen-man-sinking-ship ain't capable of dat, boy how 'bout an epitaph for a graveyard stone, should be plenty of room... as it will be plenty short... all eye see and all eye know is vignettes that birth in me walking down the street, that's my bread and butter, my soul's delicacies... and moments that recorded here, for a posteriored posterity, as noted in my all my living testaments, drinking and spilling the vin, from the uninvented igniting vignettes that consecrate and connect our knowing each other though odds are we will never meet...we can yet drink together ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Don't know much about the French I took. But I do know that I love you, And I know that if you love me, too, What a wonderful world this would be."
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May 3, 2015
May 3, 2015 at 7:50 AM UTC
why eye drink the vin in vignette (for all the better poets here)
dedicated to all the better poets here... don't know much about a quatrain don't know how to write a refrain, surely could not compose a courtyard elegy maybe after and still untilled, I been buried, 'n checked out the neighborhood competition... as for limerick, that is Dr. Seuss and Ogden Nash's shtick with whom, eye, a believed descendant, cannot compete... Oh dear me,   no ode node-ed within, as for a pastoral, kinda hard to feat, where I live, a pastoral is grass cracks surviving under, breaking through to the other side of concrete and blacktop rulers Maybe one of you will haiku, send us a senryu, send off, see ya! the doc once diagnosed a severe case of inflamed iambic pentametery, with antibiotics and a diet of Hamletery, was cured most satisfactorily this silly pen-man-sinking-ship ain't capable of dat, boy how 'bout an epitaph for a graveyard stone, should be plenty of room... as it will be plenty short... all eye see and all eye know is vignettes that birth in me walking down the street, that's my bread and butter, my soul's delicacies... and moments that recorded here, for a posteriored posterity, as noted in my all my living testaments, drinking and spilling the vin, from the uninvented igniting vignettes that consecrate and connect our knowing each other though odds are we will never meet...we can yet drink together ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Don't know much about the French I took. But I do know that I love you, And I know that if you love me, too, What a wonderful world this would be."
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60
I cut the middle fingernail of the middle finger right hand real short and I began rubbing along her **** as she sat upright in bed spreading lotion over her arms face and ******* after bathing. then she lit a cigarette: "don't let this put you off," an smoked and continued to rub the lotion on. I continued to rub the **** "You want an apple?" I asked. "sure, she said, "you got one?" but I got to her- she began to twist then she rolled on her side, she was getting wet and open like a flower in the rain. then she rolled on her stomach and her most beautiful *** looked up at me and I reached under and got the **** again. she reached around and got my **** she rolled and twisted, I mounted my face falling into the mass of red hair that overflowed from her head and my flattened **** entered into the miracle. later we joked about the lotion and the cigarette and the apple. then I went out and got some chicken and shrimp and french fries and buns and mashed potatoes and gravy and cole slaw,and we ate.she told me how good she felt and I told her how good I felt and we ate the chicken and the shrimp and the french fries and the buns and the mashed potatoes and the gravy and the cole slaw too.
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69.4k
Like A Flower In The Rain
like cellophane wraps hard candy like ink loves to dry like hot sauce drenches noodles like sunrise casts shadows like band-aids sooth cut flesh like irons crease linens like origami folds paper like water floats boats like a tempest loves a teapot like syrup and bananas drench waffles like spoons love soup like cats love fish like french fries love ketchup like wild girls dance like a crow loves road **** like eyes love beauty like a circle loves a square like buttered buns fit a bikini like a kissed mouth hungers for wet lips like moths love a flame like dogs love ******** and like ******* hug butts like howling ******* pulse hearts like vampires love blood and castles like dark grapes ferment in bubbling cauldrons like madness loves a straight jacket like a ***** loves a **** and music gets you dancing like suns fall through cobalt night all smashing diamonds    that's how i love you
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Jul 19, 2018
Jul 19, 2018 at 2:53 PM UTC
How I Love You
~-English-~ The Beauty Of Flowers (Multiple Tankas I) A field of tulips Is where I laid down to sleep And dream a sweet dream Dew sparkled on the tulips And fell upon my fair cheeks In the shady woods Ladyslipper Orchids grow Near a babbling brook. Yellows and Pinks standing tall With ferns spreading all around. Beside the ocean The hibiscus are blooming Such a sweet perfume Lingers on the salty breeze Such beautiful rainbow hues Snowdrops are the first To appear blooming in frost Pure white heads nodding. Cold hardy and full of life, They offer a hope of Spring. Beside the farmhouse Gardenias are blooming White satin blossoms Their perfume is breathtaking Rain-washed petals of fragrance ~Timothy & Marian~ ~-French-~ La beauté des fleurs (plusieurs Tankas je) Un champ de tulipes Est où j'ai prévue de dormir Et un doux rêve Rosée brillait sur les tulipes Et tomba sur mes joues justes Dans les bois ombragés Ladyslipper orchidées poussent Près d'un petit ruisseau. Jaunes et roses debout Avec fougères répand tout autour. À côté de l'océan L'hibiscus sont en fleurs Tel un doux parfum S'attarde sur la brise salée Ces teintes belle arc-en-ciel Perce-neige est les premiers À comparaître fleurissant en gel Têtes blanches pures hochant la tête. Résistantes au froid et pleine de vie, Ils offrent un espoir de printemps. À côté de la ferme Gardénias sont en fleurs Fleurs de satin blancs Leur parfum est à couper le souffle Pétales restés du parfum ~ Timothy et Marian ~
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Jan 10, 2014
Jan 10, 2014 at 6:25 PM UTC
The Beauty Of Flowers (Multiple Tankas I)
~-English-~ The Beauty Of Flowers (Multiple Tankas I) A field of tulips Is where I laid down to sleep And dream a sweet dream Dew sparkled on the tulips And fell upon my fair cheeks In the shady woods Ladyslipper Orchids grow Near a babbling brook. Yellows and Pinks standing tall With ferns spreading all around. Beside the ocean The hibiscus are blooming Such a sweet perfume Lingers on the salty breeze Such beautiful rainbow hues Snowdrops are the first To appear blooming in frost Pure white heads nodding. Cold hardy and full of life, They offer a hope of Spring. Beside the farmhouse Gardenias are blooming White satin blossoms Their perfume is breathtaking Rain-washed petals of fragrance ~Timothy & Marian~ ~-French-~ La beauté des fleurs (plusieurs Tankas je) Un champ de tulipes Est où j'ai prévue de dormir Et un doux rêve Rosée brillait sur les tulipes Et tomba sur mes joues justes Dans les bois ombragés Ladyslipper orchidées poussent Près d'un petit ruisseau. Jaunes et roses debout Avec fougères répand tout autour. À côté de l'océan L'hibiscus sont en fleurs Tel un doux parfum S'attarde sur la brise salée Ces teintes belle arc-en-ciel Perce-neige est les premiers À comparaître fleurissant en gel Têtes blanches pures hochant la tête. Résistantes au froid et pleine de vie, Ils offrent un espoir de printemps. À côté de la ferme Gardénias sont en fleurs Fleurs de satin blancs Leur parfum est à couper le souffle Pétales restés du parfum ~ Timothy et Marian ~
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Now, today has been a **** day in every single way. Today was the start of my holiday in Spain, until French strikes, caused me pain. We were not flying. Now, I did not weep, wail or flail my skin, instead, I said c'est la vie. They are so very French. Reminded myself that the French are cheese eating surrender monkeys, awful at football (soccer) dreadful at tennis, middling in rugby, and tend to suffer delusions of grandeur **** a French word!) They lost at Agincourt, Waterloo, WW2, think snails are a delicacy,and  allowed Mr. ****** in to rub their bellies. But, I am H.A.P.P.Y. Home Alive Prompt Proud Y? Because I'm eating strawberries and cream, whilst watching Wimbledon. How very British!
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Jun 24, 2014
Jun 24, 2014 at 4:52 PM UTC
Happy
Never be ashamed of your native language Say those beautiful Phrases and words Loud and proud. Do not let anyone stop you from speaking Let your voice be Heard and recognized Don't you dare let anybody make fun of your accent Embrace the thickness Don't ever lose grasp of it. For it is one of the precious treasure You could ever hold on to After leaving your homeland To start a new life in a foreign country That offers you a whole lot of new opportunities. Hold on to your mother tongue As tight as you can Because this new country you now live in Will do its very best to change your identity And oppress your culture. So it be French or Spanish Korean, Mandarin, Cantonese, Japanese Tagalog, Cebuano, Ilonggo Greek, Punjabi, Hindi, Sinhalese Arabic, Vietnamese, Portuguese German or Russian And any other language there is in the world. It has exquisite words that just cannot be simply translated into English For it has far greater meaning behind it It is very much well-written Alluring to one's eye and Spoken eloquently and gracefully That the English language is not able to compare To your admirably and enticing Well-spoken mother tongue.
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Apr 3, 2017
Apr 3, 2017 at 9:21 PM UTC
your mother tongue.
A harbor town, just like this one, swept up in fog the seagulls, ghosts emerging from the skies the river glistens soft & wide, the Cranes for now are sleeping giants he kisses her, the anxious gun pressed tight against his hand in his pocket he is a dock worker she is a seamstress they're a black & white film because technicolor here is impossible he is you & she is me we speak only in French the kids on the block will get you the next day.
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Sep 6, 2015
Sep 6, 2015 at 3:47 PM UTC
A Dream in Black & White
big sweaters, ghibli, acrylic paint, cafes, knit blankets and unplanned afternoon naps on the couch, gardens, bananas, vanilla almond milk, soft yarn to crochet into ****** scarves, candles after midnight, the big trees with bulky roots, patio furniture, pianos in random buildings, the internet, manatees, the boundless colours of nail polish, peanut butter & honey, rubber boots, pens that write well, fresh new notebooks, skylights, american netflix, mothers that understand, tête à têtes, one glass of sweet white wine, awkward eye contact that turns into comfortable kissing, airplanes, fresh air, baseball caps, the female collective, the really good dark chocolate, flowers, pumpkin spice lattes and ***** chai lattes, candid laughter, yoga, oceans, high waisted shorts, striped t-shirts, docile cats, playful pups, french presses, integrity, sunscreen, meerkats, penguins, chameleons, autumn leaves, fall fashion, ruby woo mac lipstick, osho, dynamic meditation, compassion, siblings, scrambled eggs, smart phones, garageband, metronomes, hot glue guns, quinoa, ferry boats, soft hands, bicycles, real people, fat snowflakes in ample, graceful ********** backpacks that don't hurt your shoulders, hair conditioner, multi-vitamins, soft sand under bare feet, people that own up to lies, clarity, samsara, satori, samasati, visions, echinacea, lavender oil and frankincense, ambrosia apples and ripe avocados, authenticity, Morgan Freeman's voice, good kissers, ******* iced tea on a hot day, curtains, the smell of beeswax, art galleries, hand massages and foot massages, reiki, plums, mild thunderstorms, soccer ***** good surprises, when birds don't **** on your head.
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Oct 9, 2013
Oct 9, 2013 at 7:24 AM UTC
thank the universe for:
big sweaters, ghibli, acrylic paint, cafes, knit blankets and unplanned afternoon naps on the couch, gardens, bananas, vanilla almond milk, soft yarn to crochet into ****** scarves, candles after midnight, the big trees with bulky roots, patio furniture, pianos in random buildings, the internet, manatees, the boundless colours of nail polish, peanut butter & honey, rubber boots, pens that write well, fresh new notebooks, skylights, american netflix, mothers that understand, tête à têtes, one glass of sweet white wine, awkward eye contact that turns into comfortable kissing, airplanes, fresh air, baseball caps, the female collective, the really good dark chocolate, flowers, pumpkin spice lattes and ***** chai lattes, candid laughter, yoga, oceans, high waisted shorts, striped t-shirts, docile cats, playful pups, french presses, integrity, sunscreen, meerkats, penguins, chameleons, autumn leaves, fall fashion, ruby woo mac lipstick, osho, dynamic meditation, compassion, siblings, scrambled eggs, smart phones, garageband, metronomes, hot glue guns, quinoa, ferry boats, soft hands, bicycles, real people, fat snowflakes in ample, graceful ********** backpacks that don't hurt your shoulders, hair conditioner, multi-vitamins, soft sand under bare feet, people that own up to lies, clarity, samsara, satori, samasati, visions, echinacea, lavender oil and frankincense, ambrosia apples and ripe avocados, authenticity, Morgan Freeman's voice, good kissers, ******* iced tea on a hot day, curtains, the smell of beeswax, art galleries, hand massages and foot massages, reiki, plums, mild thunderstorms, soccer ***** good surprises, when birds don't **** on your head.
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Intense Workout I try to workout diligently, at least 3 times a week, the muscles are tight and strong, I'm certainly no geek, I pump the iron, walk the track, listen to my tunes, but lately I've been distracted, watching for ms June She's quite the lovely lady, recently moved to this place, she is French, with sweet accent, puts smiles on my face, vous êtes l'homme élégant she says to me, her eyes sparkle bright, I have no idea what that means, so I just smile with delight sometimes she reaches out, and touches me on my arm, de tels forts muscles she says, and this makes me warm, I need to study French I guess, so I won't look the fool, for all I know, there is a chance, she is calling me a tool the thing that's bad about this all, is I work out way too long, trying to impress this girl, make her think I am King Kong, now my muscles are getting sore, I'm working way to hard, if I keep this up much more, I'll be searching for my doctor's card Gomer LePoet...
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Dec 5, 2013
Dec 5, 2013 at 8:14 PM UTC
Intense Workout
Let me apologize, to begin with because of my body type. I will NEVER be good enough for anyone to date due to current 'hype.' You know, the battle of 'bones' vs curves? Just let me inflate myself to the  right number so I can properly serve As the perfect specimen for your delicate eyes. Obviously no one is good enough unless they've got decent thighs. But just wait a god **** minute, because here I am again: So let me apologize, to begin with, if I offend You or your friends who think they're too good To date someone size zero with some extra love under the hood. How many times have I heard you exclaim in disgust Of how large she is and how you'd drown in her, If you even got near her? I saw you shaking in fear. From your head to your toes, you were trembling dear. See I'm told to eat less and maybe, just maybe But if I was skinny, and let's tell the truth, You'd be so disgusted by my looks . I could eat a salad and still gain a pound , She could eat a salad and the crunch is the only sound You hear a mile away and yet you would assume That burgers and French fries is all that she consumed. Do you ever stop to think, ladies and gents? The true beauty of someone isn't based on the number on their pants. So, let me apologize, to begin with, If I bruise your massive ego, But the way to tell if she's the perfect woman is not by your libido
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May 22, 2018
May 22, 2018 at 1:12 AM UTC
Let me apologize
**** me like the ocean would the moon, Dear Amaranthine. Teach me as you would any abecedarian, slow with pace. My pallid arms are spread, and feet are crossed. Crucify me, like one of your French girls. Your endless frame arched over mine a vaulting testament to the heat of your front against my back. This scene should have been a chapel. Through hazed musk I can taste the saline as it tumbles from your dripping brunette tendrils forming brooks and lagoons the color of flesh in the glens and about the islands of my spine. I wish I could write about you in me while you dance a contemporary beat ceaseless, indeterminate, untold are your feats within and upon my person. For a split moment, seconds shattered in two, I am completely and totally permeated by you. I whine for you to vacillate me, I am ******* begging to be occupied, satiated, by a rhythm akin to the sway of trees. Love me fast and kiss me slow, Dear Amaranthine. My palms are red, and feet bloodied, too. I moan. Call me your poetaster but don't come on my chest; There's far too much weight there already, my dear.
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Mar 20, 2012
Mar 20, 2012 at 1:30 AM UTC
Dear Amaranthine,
A long, long time ago, I can still remember when, Junk food made me smile, And I knew if had my chance, That I could make my fatness dance, And maybe I was happy for a while. But McDonald's made me shiver, With every burger they'd deliver, Bad news on their doorstep, I couldn't take one more step. I can't remember if I cried, When  I passed size twenty-five, But something touched me deep inside, The day I knocked back obesity fries, CHORUS. So, bye, bye McDonald's French fries, Drove my  chevy away from McDonald's, didn't have a bevy, I said goodbye to whiskey and rye, Singing no more apple pies, That's the end of obesity fries..... Did you  go to McDonald's biomes? Did you know you're changing your genomes? Eating all those pesticides? Now do believe they love you, guys? Might as well eat dead flies! And can you change evolution in real time? Well, I know you're addicted to them, You'll need more than treadmills in the gym, Now can't even put on your shoes, Man, you'll dig the obesity blues, CHORUS. I was an obese teenage bronco buck. Driving to McDonald's in a pickup truck, But I knew I was out of luck, The day I ate landfill in those French fries... I started singing bye, bye obesity fries, Drove my chevy, had no bevies, And the burgers were dry, This is the day I knock back French fries. CHORUS. I met a girl who sang the blues, She'd passed turning size twenty-two, I asked her if she ate junk food too, She just smiled and drove away, I drove down to the store no more, Where I ate additives years before, But the junk food store didn't care anyway... CHORUS CHORUS....
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Nov 27, 2015
Nov 27, 2015 at 4:56 PM UTC
OBESITY ODE (Based on tune "American Pie.)
A long, long time ago, I can still remember when, Junk food made me smile, And I knew if had my chance, That I could make my fatness dance, And maybe I was happy for a while. But McDonald's made me shiver, With every burger they'd deliver, Bad news on their doorstep, I couldn't take one more step. I can't remember if I cried, When  I passed size twenty-five, But something touched me deep inside, The day I knocked back obesity fries, CHORUS. So, bye, bye McDonald's French fries, Drove my  chevy away from McDonald's, didn't have a bevy, I said goodbye to whiskey and rye, Singing no more apple pies, That's the end of obesity fries..... Did you  go to McDonald's biomes? Did you know you're changing your genomes? Eating all those pesticides? Now do believe they love you, guys? Might as well eat dead flies! And can you change evolution in real time? Well, I know you're addicted to them, You'll need more than treadmills in the gym, Now can't even put on your shoes, Man, you'll dig the obesity blues, CHORUS. I was an obese teenage bronco buck. Driving to McDonald's in a pickup truck, But I knew I was out of luck, The day I ate landfill in those French fries... I started singing bye, bye obesity fries, Drove my chevy, had no bevies, And the burgers were dry, This is the day I knock back French fries. CHORUS. I met a girl who sang the blues, She'd passed turning size twenty-two, I asked her if she ate junk food too, She just smiled and drove away, I drove down to the store no more, Where I ate additives years before, But the junk food store didn't care anyway... CHORUS CHORUS....
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49
I reserved a table for the two of us at the only restaurant in the world that not only offers atmosphere and setting but tone and syntax as well. First some articles for appetizers. They're easiest on my pocket you know. An an, a the, and an a. Let's not even start on the punctuation, I'm treating you to a rather large meal. As large as the entire English language, now back to the articles. Sure these taste like lint but they still taste. Petit fours but there you are. Try to be disinterested or you'll put me off my food. Nouns now. My, what a variety. Bit meaty, eh? These have staying power. They taste like a bit of everywhere, and everyone, and everything. What's that? Surely they're not that bland. Maybe you need some seasoning. "Adjective" comes from the French for "to the word." So exotic aren't they? These really are fantastic. Exquisite, unique, zesty to say the least. You must admit, they make the meal worth it. I hope you're not allergic, I could have sworn I just had something "nutty." Oh, it had nuts "in it"? There must be some prepositions mixed in here. (I'm glad we're getting through these now, I've never been a big fan of them. When I was a kid, I would always push my prepositions to the end of my sentences. You just can't do that in a joint like this, it seems.) Ah finally. The verbs are served. Well-prepared it would seem. Yes, anything you can do to a verb they've done to these. Infinitives (too good to realistically be believed!), gerunds, and participles (No, not particles. But we did have some of those at the Japanese restaurant.) Fairly lean too, as I can't see any auxiliary fat. For some reason those adverbs (just to your left, under that thesaurus) really go well with this. Plus those adjectives from earlier, rather pleasantly. Now a brief selection of conjunctions, but don't ruin yourself. They're not a meal of themselves, just a link to... Oh! Look at those interjections. So delicate, so (Wow!) incisive. I told you to keep your appetite. Well, just try a little of this. Goodness, me! And then everyone proceeds to die from a split infinitive.
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Mar 21, 2010
Mar 21, 2010 at 7:44 PM UTC
I Eat my Words.
I reserved a table for the two of us at the only restaurant in the world that not only offers atmosphere and setting but tone and syntax as well. First some articles for appetizers. They're easiest on my pocket you know. An an, a the, and an a. Let's not even start on the punctuation, I'm treating you to a rather large meal. As large as the entire English language, now back to the articles. Sure these taste like lint but they still taste. Petit fours but there you are. Try to be disinterested or you'll put me off my food. Nouns now. My, what a variety. Bit meaty, eh? These have staying power. They taste like a bit of everywhere, and everyone, and everything. What's that? Surely they're not that bland. Maybe you need some seasoning. "Adjective" comes from the French for "to the word." So exotic aren't they? These really are fantastic. Exquisite, unique, zesty to say the least. You must admit, they make the meal worth it. I hope you're not allergic, I could have sworn I just had something "nutty." Oh, it had nuts "in it"? There must be some prepositions mixed in here. (I'm glad we're getting through these now, I've never been a big fan of them. When I was a kid, I would always push my prepositions to the end of my sentences. You just can't do that in a joint like this, it seems.) Ah finally. The verbs are served. Well-prepared it would seem. Yes, anything you can do to a verb they've done to these. Infinitives (too good to realistically be believed!), gerunds, and participles (No, not particles. But we did have some of those at the Japanese restaurant.) Fairly lean too, as I can't see any auxiliary fat. For some reason those adverbs (just to your left, under that thesaurus) really go well with this. Plus those adjectives from earlier, rather pleasantly. Now a brief selection of conjunctions, but don't ruin yourself. They're not a meal of themselves, just a link to... Oh! Look at those interjections. So delicate, so (Wow!) incisive. I told you to keep your appetite. Well, just try a little of this. Goodness, me! And then everyone proceeds to die from a split infinitive.
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63
I'm made of all; The books I've ever read Poems I've ever written Faces who have smiled at me Hugs that have wrapped around me Caresses that have graced my inner thigh Countries & continents my feet have touched The lovers as we simultaneously reach ecstasy within Lonely nights shedding tear drops Nights gazing black skies moon & stars Children falling asleep to my heartbeat Animals whose soul was found through reflective eye stares Conversations spoken in French, Spanish, Italian, Xhosa, Afrikaans, Norwegian, German Years of ****** cognitive-, dialectical-, art-, drama-, music-, mindfulness-, trauma-, psychiatry-; therapies The drinks & drugs & mind altering substances dispersing my mind In all I'm made of; Love Lust Greed Fear Joy Freedom Longing Dreams Despair Sadness Anger Frustrations Happiness Anxieties Insecurities.... In all I'm made of; A soul; securely contained within a body of battled scars; over; pain & triumphs, losses & gains, rejections & acceptances, dishonours & accolades... With the hope; she too, can live life through. © Sia Jane
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Sep 22, 2014
Sep 22, 2014 at 8:52 PM UTC
Chapters of Self
~~~~English~~~~ Such beauty takes away my breath As the sunrays shine across the peaceful path The trees of this forest sway and nod in the dancing breeze Which caresses my cheeks Pastel clouds in the watercolor sky Makes the forest with its path beautiful And birds sing and warble in the tall treetops God alone creates this beauty The bluebells bordering the path Are kissed by sparkling dewdrops And snowdrops have long come out of Their veil of snow Lacy green leaves from the blowing trees Provide shade in the sweet summer And the breezes provide coolness on a hot day At this lovely place of beauty ~~~~French~~~~ Une telle beauté enlève mon souffle Comme les rayons du soleil brille à travers la voie pacifique Les arbres de cette forêt se balancent et hocher la tête dans la brise dansante Qui caresse mes joues Pastels nuages dans le ciel aquarelle Rend la forêt avec son chemin belle Et les oiseaux chantent et modulées dans les hautes cimes Dieu seul crée cette beauté Les jacinthes qui bordent le chemin Sont caressées par les gouttes de rosée mousseux Perce-neige viennent depuis longtemps de Leur voile de neige Dentelles feuilles vertes des arbres de soufflage Fournir de l'ombre en été douce Et les brises offrent fraîcheur par une chaude journée À ce bel endroit d'une beauté ~Hilda~
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Mar 12, 2013
Mar 12, 2013 at 10:32 PM UTC
The Path Of Sunrays
and when you said laughter is like a foreign language i imagined that i was teaching you how to speak it
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Jan 9, 2019
Jan 9, 2019 at 8:02 PM UTC
french
I need kisses like a fish needs colored rocks and a bear needs honey I need it like eyes need sunglasses and skin needs sunscreen Like people need chocolate or french fries or fried food or fast wi-fi or vacation The thing about needing - I don't - It'd be nice though
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Sep 15, 2015
Sep 15, 2015 at 11:12 PM UTC
On Kissing
ABOVE THE FUCHSIA COLORED CITY IS A FRENCH ROSE COLORED SKY, COLORED AS ANOTHER NAME OTHER THAN THE CLOUDS OF WHITE SALT AND BONES. THE CITY'S AIR SMELL OF GREY ELEPHANT'S BREATH AND POETRY. I BLAME THE LEMONADE  COLORED RAIN THAT DIDN'T FALL TODAY FOR THIS CONUNDRUM. MAYBE THE RAIN IS PROBABLY SOMEWHERE SITTING STILL IN THE HOT SEAT OR MAYBE IN HEAVEN'S COLORLESS TIGHTLY CLOSED LAP. SITTING                THERE                           THINKING                                              WHAT                                                        COLORS                                                                                          GO                                                                          BEST                                                                                  WITH                                                                                          WILD                                                                                     EMOTIONS?
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Sep 17, 2018
Sep 17, 2018 at 1:34 PM UTC
Cerise
ABOVE THE FUCHSIA COLORED CITY IS A FRENCH ROSE COLORED SKY, COLORED AS ANOTHER NAME OTHER THAN THE CLOUDS OF WHITE SALT AND BONES. THE CITY'S AIR SMELL OF GREY ELEPHANT'S BREATH AND POETRY. I BLAME THE LEMONADE  COLORED RAIN THAT DIDN'T FALL TODAY FOR THIS CONUNDRUM. MAYBE THE RAIN IS PROBABLY SOMEWHERE SITTING STILL IN THE HOT SEAT OR MAYBE IN HEAVEN'S COLORLESS TIGHTLY CLOSED LAP. SITTING                THERE                           THINKING                                              WHAT                                                        COLORS                                                                                          GO                                                                          BEST                                                                                  WITH                                                                                          WILD                                                                                     EMOTIONS?
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Sa dami ng mga trabahong tumambak dahil hindi mo pa nagagawa Mga papeles na nagpatung-patong na Yung lamesa **** inaagiw na dahil hindi mo alam kung saan at paano magsisimula. At mga istoryang di mo pa maisulat dahil nangangapa ka pa. Isama mo na rin yung katrabaho **** nakakairita na sa tenga. Dahil crush niya daw si Justin Bieber At paborito niyang frappe sa Starbucks ay Caramel. Kahit mukhang ang afford niya lang ay Nescafe “Oo nga pala, French Vanilla” na iniinom ni Toni Gonzaga. Pero wala siyang pambili ng sarili niyang tumbler. Tangina. Idagdag mo pa ang mga patay na oras na sunod-sunod ang mga buntong-hininga Nahuli ka pa ng boss mo na nakatulala Kaya hayan at napagalitan ka pa. At dahil contractual ka, yung limang buwan na kontrata mo Biruin mo, baka mapaaga pa ang endo. Aminin mo na ang pagpatak ng alas-singko Ay may kakaibang dalang saya. Na parang sumagot na ng “oo” yung matagal mo nang nililigawan. Nakulayan na rin yung mga pinlano niyong outing na buong akala niyo’y hanggang drawing na lang. Parang pagbabalik sa Pilipinas ng kasintahan **** kumayod sa ibang bansa. Parang ibinalita sa TV na hindi traffic ngayon sa EDSA. Himala! Kaya ang pagsapit ng alas-singko ay kakambal ng paglaya. Wala sa’yo kung sa bus man ay tayuan O kaya sa dyip ay makasabit man lang. Basta makauwi ka lang. Nakakasabik pa rin ang ideya Na ang bawat pag-uwi Ay kasing banayad ng mayroong sasalubong sa’yong ngiti Mga ngiting papawi sa kangalayan ng mga binti. Mayroong yakap na nakaabang Ang mga bisig na nagmistulang pinakapaborito **** kulungan Dahil doon mo nararamdaman ang tunay na kalayaan. Mula sa pang-aalipin sa’yo ng lipunan. Nakahain na rin ang hapunan. “Mahal, ano ba ang ulam?” Sabayan natin ito ng mahabang kwentuhan. Simulan natin sa simpleng kamustahan. Dahil pagkatapos, ay aabangan mo na naman ang alas-singko kinabukasan.
0
May 20, 2016
May 20, 2016 at 11:11 AM UTC
Kung Bakit Inaabangan Niya Ang Alas-Singko
Sa dami ng mga trabahong tumambak dahil hindi mo pa nagagawa Mga papeles na nagpatung-patong na Yung lamesa **** inaagiw na dahil hindi mo alam kung saan at paano magsisimula. At mga istoryang di mo pa maisulat dahil nangangapa ka pa. Isama mo na rin yung katrabaho **** nakakairita na sa tenga. Dahil crush niya daw si Justin Bieber At paborito niyang frappe sa Starbucks ay Caramel. Kahit mukhang ang afford niya lang ay Nescafe “Oo nga pala, French Vanilla” na iniinom ni Toni Gonzaga. Pero wala siyang pambili ng sarili niyang tumbler. Tangina. Idagdag mo pa ang mga patay na oras na sunod-sunod ang mga buntong-hininga Nahuli ka pa ng boss mo na nakatulala Kaya hayan at napagalitan ka pa. At dahil contractual ka, yung limang buwan na kontrata mo Biruin mo, baka mapaaga pa ang endo. Aminin mo na ang pagpatak ng alas-singko Ay may kakaibang dalang saya. Na parang sumagot na ng “oo” yung matagal mo nang nililigawan. Nakulayan na rin yung mga pinlano niyong outing na buong akala niyo’y hanggang drawing na lang. Parang pagbabalik sa Pilipinas ng kasintahan **** kumayod sa ibang bansa. Parang ibinalita sa TV na hindi traffic ngayon sa EDSA. Himala! Kaya ang pagsapit ng alas-singko ay kakambal ng paglaya. Wala sa’yo kung sa bus man ay tayuan O kaya sa dyip ay makasabit man lang. Basta makauwi ka lang. Nakakasabik pa rin ang ideya Na ang bawat pag-uwi Ay kasing banayad ng mayroong sasalubong sa’yong ngiti Mga ngiting papawi sa kangalayan ng mga binti. Mayroong yakap na nakaabang Ang mga bisig na nagmistulang pinakapaborito **** kulungan Dahil doon mo nararamdaman ang tunay na kalayaan. Mula sa pang-aalipin sa’yo ng lipunan. Nakahain na rin ang hapunan. “Mahal, ano ba ang ulam?” Sabayan natin ito ng mahabang kwentuhan. Simulan natin sa simpleng kamustahan. Dahil pagkatapos, ay aabangan mo na naman ang alas-singko kinabukasan.
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<><><><><><> Talk nerdy to me It's my thing! Use words so pedantic They're obtusely romantic Let's politick and homilize (For philosophy use French and Chinese) We'll ramble until we're halfway wise Or let's invent a new word, at least Talk nerdy to me SNL and X-Men Then note the plot holes With a trendy quill pen If you can't talk nerdy to me, Just be yourself. That's also gutsy
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Dec 20, 2014
Dec 20, 2014 at 12:52 AM UTC
Talk Nerdy to Me
.*in french you dont say "i miss you" you say "tu me manques" witch means "you are missing from me"* .
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Dec 21, 2019
Dec 21, 2019 at 3:00 PM UTC
i really love this...
Fat people have no heads. They end at the shoulders, they are clipped off at the neck. Never talk to fat people. You may talk to an expert, to a dietitian or a doctor but never to a real live fat person because fat people have no heads. Use the word Epidemic at least once, especially if children are involved. Children are always involved, so use the word Epidemic at least once. Fat children still have heads, usually; only fat adults must be d e c a p i t a t e d. Because he still has his head you may talk to a fat child, especially if you offer him a box of chicken nuggets. Entice him to say Alarming Things with a box of chicken nuggets. After the word Epidemic segue from concerned anchorwoman to stock footage of fat headless girl browsing the racks at J.C. Penny’s. Segue to fat headless mom walking with her fat headless son on a sidewalk populated by fat headless pedestrians. Voice-over Alarming Things about fat headless people not getting enough exercise and segue to fat headless man stuffing his fingers into a box of McDonald’s french fries. Fat people eat only McDonald’s french fries and we will be right back with more on this story after a word from our sponsors. Cue McDonald’s theme song. Pretty people Golden Arches laughing with their heads as they eat McDonald’s french fries with their heads and never gain a pound.
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Jan 6, 2012
Jan 6, 2012 at 5:58 PM UTC
Rules for a Nightly News Feature on Obesity
a thin layer of expensive, french perfume on your collarbones, dripping down due to the high temperature you caused when you walked into the room.
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Apr 30, 2014
Apr 30, 2014 at 3:04 PM UTC
perfume
it was raining on the sun. it was raining on the sun this sun had 13 moons it was raining on the sun at 3 am. the sun had lost it's way only to find it's Madness 13 moons. 13 oceans 13 oceans of god knows what ? 13 dead gods on 13 dead lawns the sky had gone where skys get very, very lost where dead worlds sing in the sick pink *********** of a host of slaughtered angels typhoons of awful like clots of mindless rage fed only violence and dominion only sacred cows and baby teeth and darkling blasphemy come from the ruptured lungs of Agony and Thorns Only you. only you would. Only You could. **** a Unicorn.
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Jun 7, 2012
Jun 7, 2012 at 2:29 PM UTC
Lilith Made French Toast Speak Terrible, Terrible French
Stop resenting me For the way I shop The things I do To make sure My food is fresh I confess I feel blueberries In my fingers To make sure they are firm Not too ripe I confess I shake Cans of spaghetti and ravioli So that I know The sauce is not Congealed I confess I pull frozen waffles From the back of the freezer Less likely that they thawed And refroze into Oddball shapes I confess I smell trout Before I buy it Placing it against my nose In the most unabashed Way Spare me your hate About my consumer habits When I know it has nothing to do with Food As long as I bring you warm release In the darkness of your desires Pull your tangled hair the way You like Bite your darting tongue In mad hunger Deep appetite As long as I reawaken the Woman Primal animal hidden Within Turn your heat into a river For a long passionate Swim As long as I attend quickly to your Every ***** command The craving of your ****** Insatiable Demand Then I can squeeze french bread In quiet and peace I can sniff cantaloupes Without suffering ire Or grief I’ll take you tonight In that filthy way You like Until then Leave me alone I’m shopping.
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May 25, 2014
May 25, 2014 at 6:15 AM UTC
Consumer Complaint