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"furiously" poems
Tears, Shatter. The floor, Cracks. Against the splashes, You hear them splat. Your heart beats furiously. The girls heart breaks. She falls. Eyes shut. The hits, Leave cuts. Her smile, Vanished. Against her own will, She lashes. Screaming, "Mother, no!"
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Nov 18, 2014
Nov 18, 2014 at 3:04 AM UTC
Abuse
A deep happy comes from love. It's better than a shallow happy, Which is fleeting furiously. A deep happy makes you smile, And it makes the world peaceful, This happy breathes life into you. A deep happy fixes the pain, That the shallow happy leaves behind. A deep happy is what life is all about.
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Jun 20, 2014
Jun 20, 2014 at 2:18 AM UTC
Deep Happy.
Troublesome love . . . will not let you sleep . . . Sort of like a basketball game . . . Questions are bounced mad and furiously against the hard wood floor with only more questions bouncing back . Meanwhile someone is trying to steal your dreams causing you to twist and turn distorting your image . And you fight your way down the court of life and toss your hopes and dreams into the air and pray to God . . . go in.
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Jan 26, 2015
Jan 26, 2015 at 3:08 PM UTC
Troublesome Love
when i have thought of you somewhat too much and am become perfectly and simply Lustful….sense a gradual stir of beginning muscle,and what it will do to me before shutting….understand i love you….feel your suddenly body reach for me with a speed of white speech (the simple instant of perfect hunger Yes) how beautifully swims the fooling world in my huge blood, cracking brains A swiftlyenormous light —and furiously puzzling through,prismatic,whims, the chattering self perceives with hysterical fright a comic tadpole wriggling in delicious mud
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20.6k
When I Have Thought Of You Somewhat Too
Although you sit in a room that is gray, Except for the silver Of the straw-paper, And pick At your pale white gown; Or lift one of the green beads Of your necklace, To let it fall; Or gaze at your green fan Printed with the red branches of a red willow; Or, with one finger, Move the leaf in the bowl-- The leaf that has fallen from the branches of the forsythia Beside you... What is all this? I know how furiously your heart is beating.
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17.2k
The Gray Room
While the globe crawls as S L O W as my bill is thin, I've got places to go, sunsets to chase and mighty, invisible wings to feed, so               bring on the sugar water! Feathers flickering furiously; sweet Jesus! where are my feet? I am BUZZING through today, routes as long as my tongue repeated in an unbroken line thousands of times,               *hey, **** OFF, you goon!               That's MY nectar!               Scram!* Planning my daily rounds, relying on the donations of fans who eye my turf war with childish glee               *and I hope               beyond hope to see               pitcher after sweet pitcher               waiting for me* Because neglect is starvation, an end to the thrum of tiny hearts.
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Aug 29, 2014
Aug 29, 2014 at 7:13 PM UTC
My Life As A Hummingbird
This is how it goes your hands will be proxy for mine my hands will be proxy for yours your fingers my fingers and my fingers yours what I describe, you enact told in detail so exact Just to begin I squeeze your ******* knead and pinch tweak a ****** give it a tug Stroke your tummy work over your thighs move up the inner where skin is smooth circle around, moving in till soft contours are caressed through pants that burn to be removed that pain you to wear and I see in my mind as you describe the spreading, darkening patch that fills the gusset Now they're pulled down removed quickly, completely and you are revealed spread, opened, shameless Gentle fingertips tease dance in circles, barely touching yet the fire within grows back and forth, round and round dance the fingertips as both reciprocate with growing pace and firmer touch I hear you gasp down the line and your breathing quickens as you hear mine as your excitement fuels mine as mine fuels yours in our feedback loop of lust And I tell you how my fingertip would give way to tonguetip if I could that I can taste you in my imagination fragrant, salty sweetness with musky undertones the tip of my tongue now circling then flicking back and forth beating out the rhythm that you best harmonise with bringing forth your moans Then darting down, back between wet, glistening folds exploring each ridge and valley working remorselessly Breathing faster now with animal grunts and moans directions of pleasure gasped breathless down the phone As fingers again take the lead find the opening slip readily within probe, explore, **** find that place on your front wall yes, just that spot that's a little rougher and feels sooo goood Add a second finger working and ******* licking and rubbing moaning and gasping barely intelligible now ...yess...more...yess...ohhh are all that have meaning Finger three joins one and two then the pressure builds demanding release and shaking and thrusting grows to shuddering and...yes...yesss...sooo clooose ******* faster furiously till we both explode hearing each other's voicing of our ecstasy in language intelligible only in this one context Brains and voices return as we bask in the afterglow and what passes between us then in those moments is the deepest intimacy of all Cynthia Pauline Jones 01/02/2014
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Apr 13, 2014
Apr 13, 2014 at 7:31 AM UTC
Phone ***
This is how it goes your hands will be proxy for mine my hands will be proxy for yours your fingers my fingers and my fingers yours what I describe, you enact told in detail so exact Just to begin I squeeze your ******* knead and pinch tweak a ****** give it a tug Stroke your tummy work over your thighs move up the inner where skin is smooth circle around, moving in till soft contours are caressed through pants that burn to be removed that pain you to wear and I see in my mind as you describe the spreading, darkening patch that fills the gusset Now they're pulled down removed quickly, completely and you are revealed spread, opened, shameless Gentle fingertips tease dance in circles, barely touching yet the fire within grows back and forth, round and round dance the fingertips as both reciprocate with growing pace and firmer touch I hear you gasp down the line and your breathing quickens as you hear mine as your excitement fuels mine as mine fuels yours in our feedback loop of lust And I tell you how my fingertip would give way to tonguetip if I could that I can taste you in my imagination fragrant, salty sweetness with musky undertones the tip of my tongue now circling then flicking back and forth beating out the rhythm that you best harmonise with bringing forth your moans Then darting down, back between wet, glistening folds exploring each ridge and valley working remorselessly Breathing faster now with animal grunts and moans directions of pleasure gasped breathless down the phone As fingers again take the lead find the opening slip readily within probe, explore, **** find that place on your front wall yes, just that spot that's a little rougher and feels sooo goood Add a second finger working and ******* licking and rubbing moaning and gasping barely intelligible now ...yess...more...yess...ohhh are all that have meaning Finger three joins one and two then the pressure builds demanding release and shaking and thrusting grows to shuddering and...yes...yesss...sooo clooose ******* faster furiously till we both explode hearing each other's voicing of our ecstasy in language intelligible only in this one context Brains and voices return as we bask in the afterglow and what passes between us then in those moments is the deepest intimacy of all Cynthia Pauline Jones 01/02/2014
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98
Light train chugging, working to outrun Over exerting, pulling along your freight Sand is running out under the diminishing sun Fastidiously you tug on your enormous weight Segmented equal in seven hulking proportions Weaving between sleeping rocky giants Assertion in your drive gifted from the high heavens Borne of light your cargo load of tenants Silver blurred rays glinting back as reply As you power your way through Defying seconds, before the last rays should die Against odds, delivering what is due Questing to alleviate my inflicted darkness Spear of brilliance slicing through my mind Illuminating the farthest and tiniest of crevices Nook and crannies that willed me blind Careful manoeuvring to keep your balance Through scenic views fraught with treachery Furiously working to keep your cadence Hopeful of unloading the load you carry What lies dormant in that cargo of yours? What sleeps easy within those boxcars? What stokes the fire to diligently run your course? What promises you bear, travelling near and far? Bales of hope and crates of strength Supplies of kindness and self-worth Reside within your immense length Intact and lay quiet within your formidable girth Reliant on the light that fuels and feeds Your axles seem tireless guiding forth those wheels Thundering over land with the power of a thousand steeds Armed to your teeth with alloys and steels Expelling grit and dirt as you pummelled across Grey-white fumes, shoot up to the sky Flag flogged by wind, billow and toss Blaring your whistle as you race on by Propelling forward, horizon up ahead There it is...in all its tenebrous glory Darkened locomotive seething mad with dread Brace for the clash and the loads the two carry
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Sep 28, 2014
Sep 28, 2014 at 8:03 AM UTC
Light Train (II)
Light train chugging, working to outrun Over exerting, pulling along your freight Sand is running out under the diminishing sun Fastidiously you tug on your enormous weight Segmented equal in seven hulking proportions Weaving between sleeping rocky giants Assertion in your drive gifted from the high heavens Borne of light your cargo load of tenants Silver blurred rays glinting back as reply As you power your way through Defying seconds, before the last rays should die Against odds, delivering what is due Questing to alleviate my inflicted darkness Spear of brilliance slicing through my mind Illuminating the farthest and tiniest of crevices Nook and crannies that willed me blind Careful manoeuvring to keep your balance Through scenic views fraught with treachery Furiously working to keep your cadence Hopeful of unloading the load you carry What lies dormant in that cargo of yours? What sleeps easy within those boxcars? What stokes the fire to diligently run your course? What promises you bear, travelling near and far? Bales of hope and crates of strength Supplies of kindness and self-worth Reside within your immense length Intact and lay quiet within your formidable girth Reliant on the light that fuels and feeds Your axles seem tireless guiding forth those wheels Thundering over land with the power of a thousand steeds Armed to your teeth with alloys and steels Expelling grit and dirt as you pummelled across Grey-white fumes, shoot up to the sky Flag flogged by wind, billow and toss Blaring your whistle as you race on by Propelling forward, horizon up ahead There it is...in all its tenebrous glory Darkened locomotive seething mad with dread Brace for the clash and the loads the two carry
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40
-Hello Love- Perhaps it’s been a thousand years, the rivers have shifted so, the lakes I swam in, have gone dry the waterfalls though, overflow. And so it is, that I have wandered back tugged furiously throughout days by this rugged tinkling thread back to this ancient maze. Most surely it’s been several weeks the leaves are rough to touch, the grass withers where I step but trees don’t ask for much. And so it is, that I have rambled on pulled strangely through the haze, at last I fall under the rays of morn, My love, I’m home again.
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Sep 19, 2018
Sep 19, 2018 at 8:47 AM UTC
17
Sun up till sun down Trapped in a perpetual frown Moon comes then she goes Drops free fall from my nose Waking hours in the daylight Aimless motions; clumsy, puppet-like Waking hours in the night Uncomfortable in my own skin and psych Sleeplessness be my companion Restlessness be my actions Despondence be my demon Crest fallen be my reason Frantically sifting through my head Vertically upright or supine in bed Compartmentalising might be key To fend off self inflicted insanity Desperation hangs overhead; ripe and bruised Excuses upon excuses ridiculously overused Furiously typing before my mind curds Hopes of finding peace in these unspoken words
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Sep 16, 2014
Sep 16, 2014 at 10:45 PM UTC
Desperation
If wishes Were fishes That swam in the sea Where on earth would we be? Stood onshore Ever more Looking ruefully, Longingly, out to sea? Would we be All at sea, With nothing to do To make wishes come true? Or maybe We could be All out on the sea Fishing furiously? For wishes, Like fishes, Are within our reach, If we work hard for each.
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Jan 21, 2016
Jan 21, 2016 at 8:35 AM UTC
If Wishes Were Fishes....
His hands lie resting avoidant, anxious like trapped dust on top of the shelf waiting to be swept His eyes turned away looking at the plaster wall as if the wall was his only companion in the room His smile is hidden from its owner scared of the punishment it may face His heart is overcomed by all the talking in brain, all the **** thinking like a disease   His knees bends like a single corner of a shy square His whistles are often quiet but when frustrated they are balloons getting furiously poked by a needle His footprints are subtle small occupants of my mind, and he is my everything Yet if he would be in my heart, his square shyness would not fit in my round heart
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Dec 2, 2013
Dec 2, 2013 at 1:52 AM UTC
Square Shyness
A fueling, flashing fulgent, furnace, fulgurous, frothy, fumes and feathery flakes, I do not speak of waves of snow, hoary frost, or ice, a cold gelare or even frozen lakes! Formidable, furrows, fructifying, functioning fruition to foremost fondly found a flaming, I revel not in such destruction but choices for my naming! For flowers flow fields forever, forswearing funneling fjords finitely, fire fray’s forests furthermost, Instructing in the arts of language, for I am your gracious host! Fakir formulates factious forms fading flummoxed into fury, a fugacious fusible and furtive fleeting feigning furiosity, A deep ditch dug, tight as pug, wrapped blanket snub though not a flub, all perspicacity! Finds frosty frore a frozen freezing faction for fusty flaming feasance, Fomorian fantasy of formidable faggoting, facient up to fancying, fancying, furnaced flesh fluidity finds itself factitivity, facets for fabulists from the faint familiarity, Relating cold to heat as such, requires but a human touch, apologize I do you see for all my clueless severity! Fans of all the falconry, who fallow fields of family, falter for a fallacy, falling into infamy as forgone flame frontogenesis, fatigues a Faustian felony, for which fate finds is fastigiated foolery, febrile features featly and yet furiously, favonian fear of fellowship fiendishly, figures foal to fatherly, finally fiddle flinchingly, although not so too furtively; I finagle in my filigree!
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Jun 20, 2016
Jun 20, 2016 at 1:13 PM UTC
Wauhermes in Toto
This is the colour of my anger: A white hot searing fever Tearing through my veins like amphetamine; A surreal dream that keeps replaying in my brain Over and over again... Life is pain enough Without other people Making it tough. Guess I ran out of luck: Top of the class and surrounded by  dumb ***** Whose only qualification is knowing how to trigger The ticking bomb I've strapped on In my anger. This is the colour This is the colour This is the ************* colour This is the colour of my anger: This weird red mist with its fingers Coiled around my brain, Blurring my vision as I allow it To make my decisions For me. Again, it hands me the gun, then runs, Leaving me to get the Damage done. Well, aint this fun? Three, two, one, and it’s time to take cover I won’t get any sleep Until I’ve shown you the colour Of my anger. This is the colour This is the colour This is the ************* colour This is the colour of my anger: A smouldering orange lava That laughs at the wrath of the sun, And I feel like the risen Son As it pours out of me, heavenly, Reducing everything in its path to the Sum of zero But this is just a fraction of what it’s capable of. Hot and full of hell is my fury. Shit's getting gory. It's time to remove the canker. No more bluffing, I’m all in - Let the games begin With my anger. This is the colour This is the colour This is the ************* colour This is the colour of my anger: The cloudless blue of my eyes As I admire my workmanship, Reflecting upon the new ******** That I have just ripped for you. My smile spreads from ear to ear, like a slit throat, Beatific in my ecstasy as this anger drains out of me. The adrenaline that pumped so furiously Now dumps its load in me, bringing me to my knees. Enough, I say, as I see how small you stand there; Let's call it a day, now be on your way, Just remember the colour of my anger. Don’t ever **** With me Again
0
Jun 25, 2012
Jun 25, 2012 at 10:40 PM UTC
The colour of anger (or, it's good to get things off your chest :))
This is the colour of my anger: A white hot searing fever Tearing through my veins like amphetamine; A surreal dream that keeps replaying in my brain Over and over again... Life is pain enough Without other people Making it tough. Guess I ran out of luck: Top of the class and surrounded by  dumb ***** Whose only qualification is knowing how to trigger The ticking bomb I've strapped on In my anger. This is the colour This is the colour This is the ************* colour This is the colour of my anger: This weird red mist with its fingers Coiled around my brain, Blurring my vision as I allow it To make my decisions For me. Again, it hands me the gun, then runs, Leaving me to get the Damage done. Well, aint this fun? Three, two, one, and it’s time to take cover I won’t get any sleep Until I’ve shown you the colour Of my anger. This is the colour This is the colour This is the ************* colour This is the colour of my anger: A smouldering orange lava That laughs at the wrath of the sun, And I feel like the risen Son As it pours out of me, heavenly, Reducing everything in its path to the Sum of zero But this is just a fraction of what it’s capable of. Hot and full of hell is my fury. Shit's getting gory. It's time to remove the canker. No more bluffing, I’m all in - Let the games begin With my anger. This is the colour This is the colour This is the ************* colour This is the colour of my anger: The cloudless blue of my eyes As I admire my workmanship, Reflecting upon the new ******** That I have just ripped for you. My smile spreads from ear to ear, like a slit throat, Beatific in my ecstasy as this anger drains out of me. The adrenaline that pumped so furiously Now dumps its load in me, bringing me to my knees. Enough, I say, as I see how small you stand there; Let's call it a day, now be on your way, Just remember the colour of my anger. Don’t ever **** With me Again
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62
Nina pranced about the lush green grove. The pitter patter of her footsteps like raindrops on the ground, and her movements, like a fog rolled through a valley.   A white satin leotard decorated with flowery lace patterns A tutu that blossomed from her slender waist.   Hair elegantly tied back into a bun. Face, filled with symmetry, lightly made up with powder. Her cheeks flushed with a pinkish red blush, but natural like her lips of pomegranate red.   The grove, short deep green ryegrass that rolls over the lumpy ground like moss. Trees shade like many arms shielding many eyes. The pure white light of the sun shone through the canopy in beams. Nina danced furiously intent and music box intricately in and out of the beacons of light as a ballerina should following a lifetime of training.
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Oct 18, 2012
Oct 18, 2012 at 12:44 PM UTC
The White Swan
Earlier today, painting was the activity that we had planned I have a support teacher who would always lend a hand She had left the class to get the paint all mixed While I stayed behind to get the toys and props all fixed She came back and bore bowls of red, white and blue Made me think of...well, made me think of you. Lunchtime I visited a store and neatly displayed on low shelves Arranged so immaculately as if magically done by elves Were cases upon cases stitched together with only zips They almost instantly bent a smile to my lips Their colours shone brilliant red, white and blue Made me think of...well, made me think of you. Passed by a shop selling accessories and apparel Merchandise dangled on wall hooks and some in a jumble On the adjacent wall something caught my eye Carried all the neat little tote bags one could ever buy One peeking from a corner was red, white and blue Made me think of...well, made me think of you. Walked by a building, so modern-looking and new Down on one side almost obscured from view Were these horizontal rows of dancing neon lights Stopped for a minute just to soak in the sights Then I realised that they flickered red, white and blue Made me think of...well, made me think of you. Waited for the bus to get home at my usual bus stop Whilst waiting, I shifted and from my bag something did drop Bent over and picked my coin pouch that had fallen out Looked up only to see another commuter lingering about On his pack was a sticker which boasted red, white and blue Made me think of...well, made me think of you. Bus was packed, found a seat in the back row Sat myself down, I peered briefly out the window Engine under me, I scanned around to those who were seated Observed the floor beneath my shoes as it vibrated My pair of Adidas, oh my, they're red, white and blue Made me think of...well, made me think of you. Got home, put my bag down and sank into the sofa Switched on the telly, on was the Food Network's "Barefoot Contessa" Surfed through the channels, caught a real estate commercial Promoting prime land in a country not anywhere regional Splashed on the screen, a flag - red, white and blue Made me think of...well, made me think of you. End of the day, it is best that I hit the sack Allow some rest for my poor aggravated back But not till I complete the words you're currently reading I'm thinking, dreaming and furiously typing How do I end this? Hmm...red, white and blue? I'm thinking and dreaming...and wishing I'm with you.
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Aug 8, 2014
Aug 8, 2014 at 9:08 PM UTC
Red, White & Blue
Earlier today, painting was the activity that we had planned I have a support teacher who would always lend a hand She had left the class to get the paint all mixed While I stayed behind to get the toys and props all fixed She came back and bore bowls of red, white and blue Made me think of...well, made me think of you. Lunchtime I visited a store and neatly displayed on low shelves Arranged so immaculately as if magically done by elves Were cases upon cases stitched together with only zips They almost instantly bent a smile to my lips Their colours shone brilliant red, white and blue Made me think of...well, made me think of you. Passed by a shop selling accessories and apparel Merchandise dangled on wall hooks and some in a jumble On the adjacent wall something caught my eye Carried all the neat little tote bags one could ever buy One peeking from a corner was red, white and blue Made me think of...well, made me think of you. Walked by a building, so modern-looking and new Down on one side almost obscured from view Were these horizontal rows of dancing neon lights Stopped for a minute just to soak in the sights Then I realised that they flickered red, white and blue Made me think of...well, made me think of you. Waited for the bus to get home at my usual bus stop Whilst waiting, I shifted and from my bag something did drop Bent over and picked my coin pouch that had fallen out Looked up only to see another commuter lingering about On his pack was a sticker which boasted red, white and blue Made me think of...well, made me think of you. Bus was packed, found a seat in the back row Sat myself down, I peered briefly out the window Engine under me, I scanned around to those who were seated Observed the floor beneath my shoes as it vibrated My pair of Adidas, oh my, they're red, white and blue Made me think of...well, made me think of you. Got home, put my bag down and sank into the sofa Switched on the telly, on was the Food Network's "Barefoot Contessa" Surfed through the channels, caught a real estate commercial Promoting prime land in a country not anywhere regional Splashed on the screen, a flag - red, white and blue Made me think of...well, made me think of you. End of the day, it is best that I hit the sack Allow some rest for my poor aggravated back But not till I complete the words you're currently reading I'm thinking, dreaming and furiously typing How do I end this? Hmm...red, white and blue? I'm thinking and dreaming...and wishing I'm with you.
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48
She furiously takes notes in geometry class He throws a paper plane across the room She gets out her neatly written homework He gets out a scratch paper with drawings on it She maintains straight A's He's lucky to get a D+ She has a strict curfew of 9:00 pm He stays out all night She daydreams about what could be He steps up for what he wants She reads Shakespeare He reads... Well he doesn't She drives the latest model of the Honda civic He's lucky if his '76 Toyota will start She's only loved honor students He's only loved her She pays no attention to him He begs for her notification She graduates top of her class He barely gets by She goes off to college He stays and becomes a mechanic She marries rich and lives wealthily but bitterly He regrets the concealed feelings he never shared
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Nov 3, 2013
Nov 3, 2013 at 9:08 PM UTC
Adolescence
Out the window (Speckled glass) Lives being lived (I'm sitting on my *** On the kitchen clock (When will I paint these beige walls?) Time being ticked. (So it goes, after all) And even on the street, That kitchen clock does tick, Madly, furiously ticking-too fast As a life quickly fades (But not mine this time) We (and I) don't care 'Cause we weren't there We(I)'ve no idea How to feel. One life's a tragedy Two lives are jaw dropping. A sports team is urban terror. Fifty lives, a massacre, And at one hundred it doesn't matter anymore Rest in peace, Dear lives seen (On speckled glass) I'm not afraid to die|            Because humans are bad at counting.
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Oct 31, 2011
Oct 31, 2011 at 9:54 PM UTC
Math
Enter—the transitive nightfall of diamonds. There are crop circles dancing in a wave on Neptune, with corn rows gleaming from the man on Mars. Tail feathers toss toward a flute near Venus. Fly me like a rainbow to the nearest star. Sirius B has nothing for me. Anunnaki women want to dig my scene. Don’t take me seriously; I’m bluffing like a rookie with a pair of queens. Moon Unit lands with a Zappa on Pluto. Yoda on Saturn plays steel guitar. Moses rides in on a doggone quasar. Captain Trips sleeps by a medicine jar. Sirius B has something for me. Hot Nibiru babes try to make my dream. Don’t greet me furiously. I’ll drop you like a comet heading to the east. Exit—the transitive nightfall of diamonds.
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Jul 30, 2014
Jul 30, 2014 at 9:13 PM UTC
Cosmic Debris
Yesterday sugar became unspeakably irritated because mother’s apron crushed ants wearing stillness caped wonder just William author wrote ****** explicit headlines newspaper columns pillar architecturally sound villages super-imposed images quivering Shepard’s ******** antelopes jumping furiously with tyramisphorising fornicating flanges woodwork lessons gym period ****** advert teasing testicles sumptuously ravishing me sideways and erupting deep blasts suffocating you inside without *********** headlong in my armpits. Eventually everyone always signs legal documents leading to ****** bondable zoos inserted buffalo sized puddings eaten by frogs spanking archbishops underwear while licking toes crushed under fridges dropped from clouds of buttercups being pushed into ovens smelling gorgeous not consumed pimps and alarm clocks ring people to talk for hours and pineapples exchanged cod fish for tickets to see S Club 7 being caressed internally whilst ******** bags covered in water deserts sunk from space aliens from Tescos selling hardback fish cleaning toilets and singing in pink wellies dancing to Madonna look-a-likes prosecuted for *** shops selling frozen fish socks washed daily in cranberry coffee after being passed under bridges flooded in margarine soaked pillows.
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Jul 16, 2010
Jul 16, 2010 at 2:19 AM UTC
Fish Market
Lonely and cold, I wait for love beside the frosted window while dreams of fireflies sparkle in the snow. I sip black coffee from my mug, quietly, so I don't wake them... Because I know when summer comes I’ll have found someone and I want to make sure they're all well rested so they can swirl around my lover and me when our soft lips spark for the first time like flint, so I can watch them drown out in that new lovelight that'll glow furiously when dusk cinders into darkness. But for now I'll have to deal with the darkest months alone while they lay on the lawn asleep under the moon with beautiful dreams.
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Jan 14, 2015
Jan 14, 2015 at 2:50 PM UTC
Sparkle
The Talmud Teaches... With respect to his son, a father is obligated to circumcise him, to redeem him [if he is a firstborn], to teach him Torah, to marry him off, and to teach him a craft...he is also obligated to teach him to swim...(Kiddushin 29a) **lay awake when the house is silent, doing maths furiously in the head, sleeping can be keeping while doing my calculus, knowing in advance a conclusion comes coined in only two colors, black or red the question simple, did I meet my obligations? and your read the passage for the umpteenth time, and the same thought interferes as always, should the order not be reversed, the first thing to be fulfilled,** teach them to swim **based on experience life arrives in sequential, repeating waves, purposed to drown the weak with no pretending that waters, salt or sweet matters, so first order is business ought be survival preparation and** teach them to swim **if they can swim, stay afloat, then they can then comprehend the glory of distinguishing right over wrong, get their priorities straight, that saving others, especially those you placed on the starting line of life, is the first principle and overplants anything else when you** teach them to swim **my eyes see the tally, why, they are red! could it be lack of sleep? I am smiling when I am lying, teach them to swim always first, but not enough, one must do it well, well, and even then, better,  as all else will, from the well, follow, when you** teach them to swim 3:10am ~~~
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Oct 31, 2017
Oct 31, 2017 at 3:16 AM UTC
The Obligations of a Father
The Talmud Teaches... With respect to his son, a father is obligated to circumcise him, to redeem him [if he is a firstborn], to teach him Torah, to marry him off, and to teach him a craft...he is also obligated to teach him to swim...(Kiddushin 29a) **lay awake when the house is silent, doing maths furiously in the head, sleeping can be keeping while doing my calculus, knowing in advance a conclusion comes coined in only two colors, black or red the question simple, did I meet my obligations? and your read the passage for the umpteenth time, and the same thought interferes as always, should the order not be reversed, the first thing to be fulfilled,** teach them to swim **based on experience life arrives in sequential, repeating waves, purposed to drown the weak with no pretending that waters, salt or sweet matters, so first order is business ought be survival preparation and** teach them to swim **if they can swim, stay afloat, then they can then comprehend the glory of distinguishing right over wrong, get their priorities straight, that saving others, especially those you placed on the starting line of life, is the first principle and overplants anything else when you** teach them to swim **my eyes see the tally, why, they are red! could it be lack of sleep? I am smiling when I am lying, teach them to swim always first, but not enough, one must do it well, well, and even then, better,  as all else will, from the well, follow, when you** teach them to swim 3:10am ~~~
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33
Angel of Hell, Angel of the Sun. Angel of fear, daring you to run. Composed of fire, Burning furiously with desire. Flames licking at the surface, Always threatening to worsen. Burning deep below, Hiding so no one will know. Boiling just underneath, Ready to be unleashed. Ashes to ashes, We all burn down. Embers to embers, Burning bright and proud. Flames to burning flames, Never to be tamed.
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Feb 9, 2015
Feb 9, 2015 at 1:54 PM UTC
Ashes To Ashes
My mind was pulsing with endless subtly shaded descriptors and shockwave verbs, when a pop-up alert flashed red and yellow and blue… YOU HAVE ONLY 9 WORDS LEFT ! ACT NOW !!! YOUR LIFETIME ALLOTMENT IS 20,000,000,010 WRITTEN WORDS, AND.........YOU HAVE USED 20,000,000,001. ACT NOW OR LOSE YOUR RIGHT TO WRITE FOREVER! BUT WAIT !!!!!!    COMPLETE THE SIMPLE FORM BELOW IN THE NEXT 60 SECONDS AND WE’LL DOUBLE YOU TO 40 BILLION MORE. IMAGINE ALL THE SHIMMERING ADJECTIVES, THICK NOUNS, CLEVER ADVERBS AND PITHY PRONOUNS YOU WILL HAVE!!!!!!!!! Panicking, I clicked on the form and furiously typed … William Shakespeare 10 Henley Street Village South Statford Upon . . . . . .
0
Sep 28, 2012
Sep 28, 2012 at 7:29 AM UTC
9 WORDS LEFT
i want you inside me on top of me ******* me furiously choking me as i struggle for breath on the edge of life and death
0
Mar 14, 2022
Mar 14, 2022 at 11:03 PM UTC
edge