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SURETICE TONGUE Jun 2018
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QUIVER ALL-MAXIMIZING

SAMUEL DAVID <believingvirtue@gmail.com>
3:38 AM (56 minutes ago)
to Daniel
SOAR OWNERSHIP

/ UTTERANCES OUTLABOURED  PILGRIMS/

By the creditor at cyprus  and on other grounds:

The counter-cedar Venice much unparalleled ever pursuant  kindly indigenous street streams far above strange beneath  the string ...' Dream castle before the 'Requiring much quill 'Peanut lieutenant great  ones of the machinery  citation /  Worth  pillow following purposes invasion with a rainfall bombardment epistle the pearl earning era:   Closet  by sessions pursue arithmetician diaries ' anchor calculus cumulative arrows propellant / Squadron in the field-refueling ' division visions ...' Upswing within the meaning axle conversion processes proofs /  ' Electron icons ' Creation wireless reticence circles:  Moon ship's  amnesty crest reckon  'flaskbone SpurZebra...'  Preferment goes by relieves and affectionate 'Oil The Self-graduation  Outpouring  / Vagrant above ant strides : Rodrigo peculiar ends demonstration/ Forego  the-Outward acclimation :   Upon all civility citizenry civil-rises other low less  losses below yonder / Phrase of prose -possessions  cuss ion syn chronicutensils  'asylum  systems  beyond stems : Preeminence blown 'being ht-thence quarries  hijack travels  history/Wherein of plant  hours ' spicily spoke *****:  Pilgrimage dilutes noble companies  'ago-maximize promptly  alacrity;  Exhibition the underrating  besought levels- of quarry / burden oxidation immune  slaughter


Cheap Hill Chips

EMAIL: believingvirtue@gmail.com

+2348131914240





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TREACHERY  BOW '*****-HARVESTER'' CARDINAL GALE ALIVE TROOPS...' GENIUS RELATIVE RATES  PEARL WONDROUS  HEIGHTS...'

TERRITORIES YOKE GOVERNING RETURNS: THE GRASPING-OF-GIFTING RAVENHILLS/ VAL VOLINE TRUMPETS....''BUMPER GRAPPLING BOLT VASTS,,,''
SURETICE TONGUE Aug 2018
Desktop In The Charismatic
THEOLOGIAN ESSENCE <believingvirtue@gmail.com>

BONE  STIRS ....'

ASSEMBLIONAIRE BEYOND MAGICIAN WOLVES

INVISIBLE GRAND OUTPOURING AMNESTY SURROUNDS....'



Desktop In The Charismatic

Dream into refuge all plantation

Dream into cog all wheel

Dream into bracing all consultative

Dream into rocking all regent

Dream into preferable all chariots

Dream into luxurious all absorbs

Dream into contagious all enthusiasm

Dream into communal all welding

Dream into universal all anatomy

Dream into reality all rings

Dream into searchingly all mysteries

Dream into artillery all mechanisms

Dream into colony all proportions

Dream into miracle all compositions

Dream into artistry all pursuit

Dream into alliance all admiral company

Dream into fragrance all  new extensions

Dream into vast volume habitation all invests

Dream into carrying  devotion all per excellence

Dream into grace-going all shepherd rewarding

Dream into oasis all resuming acquaintance

Dream into cross over  all answering wonder.



Your Invades-Of-Veins,

SURETICE TONGUE

Email: believingvirtue@gmail.com





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Desktop In The Charismatic
SAMUEL DAVID <believingvirtue@gmail.com>

11/9/17

to hydee1982

Desktop In The Charismatic

Dream into refuge all plantation

Dream into cog all wheel

Dream into bracing all consultative

Dream into rocking all regent

Dream into preferable all chariots

Dream into luxurious all absorbs

Dream into contagious all enthusiasm

Dream into communal all welding

Dream into universal all anatomy

Dream into reality all rings

Dream into searchingly all mysteries

Dream into artillery all mechanisms

Dream into colony all proportions

Dream into miracle all compositions

Dream into artistry all pursuit

Dream into alliance all admiral company

Dream into fragrance all  new extensions

Dream into vast volume habitation all invests

Dream into carrying  devotion all per excellence

Dream into grace-going all shepherd rewarding

Dream into oasis all resuming acquaintance

Dream into cross over  all answering wonder.



Your Invades-Of-Veins,

Samuel-David O. Armstrong

Email: believingvirtue@gmail.com

+2348131914240



Click here to Reply or Forward
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mûre Nov 2012
The trouble with writing a
relationship through technology
is that the bygones are never gone.

Why do I pour a drink in your absence
and settle to re-read our old fights, heartbreaks
like *******, lips parted, heart racing?

I shudder through those weeks where you petted me, darling
but could scarcely afford to feed me the same heart
being doggedly masticated in the maw of another
I trace over my retinas the lines where you didn't,
wouldn't, couldn't love me, they scan me
for my identity.
My mug shot, beside
hers.

After how little it meant, how can you possibly love me now?

I could edit these now, you know, you're able to do that.
Everything I wish I had been and said.
The pages left blank, I should've painted red.

In the spaces, hiatuses, I recall your ill-suited suitors
I can't tell whether I feel grief, jealousy, or ecstasy.
At the time, you know, it was like falling upon
The Secret Garden
unbefouled by poison nor passion
to inhale the heady scent of white rose
and discover the brim of someone else's hat beneath the foliage.
The place wasn't secret. Oh, it wasn't mine. Never ever was mine.

I'm ahead of myself. Oh, for want of technology.
We courted on Facebook and Gmail,
it was a convenient torture, given the circumstances.

Now my mate belongs where I do.
Loving, tenderly, wisely true.

I cannot start loading the page for the future
so much as delete our archive,
a prelude to love
written in diminished chords,
sung by the jilted and ghosts.
Mother Teresa - love immortal
In frail human frame;
Angel of peace and compassion,
Knew no bounds of caste or creed:
With arms outstretched,
Waded through slums forsaken
To help the poor in their humble homes:
Orphans discarded, dying destitutes,          
Deserted cripples and lepers deformed,
Found in her a ministering angel
Whose gentle touch revived hope;
Brought solace and joy.  
Unmindful of praise or blame,
To serve the poor was her only aim,
And never did she crave for wealth or fame.
Like St.Francis of Assisi, she prayed -
" Lord, make me an instrument of Thy peace,
" Where there is hatred, let me sow love,
" Where there is injury, pardon,
" Where there is doubt, faith,
" Where there is despair, hope......."
Life inspiring, a splendid saga
Of selfless service and sacrifice.
For ever she lives in the loving hearts
Of those who strive to rid the world
Of sorrow, misery and distress.
           **     M.G.Narasimha Murthy
Hyderabad, India.    mgnmurthy4@gmail
C S Cizek May 2014
Blankets, pillows, a black dog, and a cell phone.
Facebook, Twitter, Vine, Gmail, and Instagram.
Shampoo, soap bar, toothbrush,
toothpaste, temperature, and time.
Shaving cream, razor, running water,
advertisements, sensitivity, precision, and cuts.
Burned tongue, empty stomach, loose tie,
missing shirt buttons, beating the clock,
wallet, briefcase, and car keys.
Ballpoint pens, scented trees, fast food wrappers,
loose change, lighters, citations, ***** clothes,
CDs, and napkins.
Red lights, pedestrians, homeless people,
newspapers, billboards, pets on leashes, sewer
grates, crosswalks, skyscrapers, and garbage.
Faxes, printers, memorandums, break room,
prestige, cubicles, customer service, paperweights,
filing cabinets, stocks, and corporate.
Wipers, streetlights, rain coats, dive bars,
and home.
Blankets, pillows, a black dog, and a cell phone.
solEmn oaSis Feb 2017
I've tried to google you,
pati na rin yahoo..
Pero bkit ako pinaasa,,
At binalewala ni piccasa
Kaya ngayon si gmail
Nag-twitter na rin kay
Instagram! At nag iwan ng katanungan...
Pwde bng sa youtube na lang tayo magkita...
Kasi mainit sa mata
Kapag sa youjizz diba....
Pero alam muh ba fb?
Sa dinamidame ng www
Ayosdito,, as in sulit talaga
Post! usap! deal! AyosDito
Magkakaroon ka ng maraming FRIENDSTER!!!
kaya hinde kta ipagpapalit khit na kay skype !
**emo talk** coming soon-a sequel of Dear facebook
FESTIVAL OF LIGHTS
                           (DEEPAVALI)    
    
May countless lights  
Show delightful sights.
May there be no threat of violence,
No clouds of smoke,
No smell of sulphur,  
No sound of gunfire,
No scenes of ruined homes,
No sorrow that dims the light
In anyone's eyes,
May the light of knowledge and wisdom
Illumine the path to happiness.
May the light of joy and love
Sparkle in everyone's eyes
In every humble home.
May our fervent prayer
Lead mankind from darkness to Light.
May all nations together strive
To pave the way to harmony and peace.
              
*M.G.Narasimha Murthy
Hyderabad, India.   mgnmurthy4@gmail. com.
  
Festival of Lights, 'DEEPAVALI' is celebrated all over India
     on 11 November 2015
Phil Bailey Apr 2020
I lurk on social media.
I post all day and night.
It strokes and stokes my ego
to pick a verbal fight.

When I see inspiring stories
or such videos I watch,
my cruel and vicious comments
will take them down a notch.

Oh feel my power and my wrath,
my insults, mean and shocking,
like "Loser", "Snowflake", "Re-****", "***"
(do you tremble at my mocking?)

I hate the world, I loathe myself,
my friends all went away.
Girls say I'm scary and a creep.
My rage grows every day.

My impotence consumes me,
I respond with posts of rage.
Anonymous through GMail
and my fake Facebook page.

My hatred grows as my soul shrinks
and so my spleen I vent.
Safe, deep within my bunker,
down in my mom's basement.
Sorry, that was rather dark, but I really don't like trolls.
Prabhu Iyer Oct 2012
Somehow an internet cloud
has leaked into my room, and
I can soar the skies now:

Don't know
how long this connection holds?
chat on Gmail?
am online on Skype!

Memories return on
wet wings of the slow winds.
Old photos on this computer.

Should I
be content with photos tonight?
Separation is sweeter
on misty nights.

You said you were
reading my poems last night.
what poems did you read?
In the ancient Indian poet Kalidas' epic poem 'Megha-dootam' (rough trans.  Cloud-Messenger), the protagonist sends messages to his beloved through the clouds.

Here's a slice of modern love carried by the cloud too - Kalidas redux!
Matt May 2015
I'm going to the chat rooms again
Yes, this is my idea of company
After all, my friends don't live close

Isolated
In the chat rooms again

On my computer again
I spend many many hours
On this machine

I love all my internet friends
Wish they were here at times
But I am content
With online companionship
In the chat rooms

Have yahoo, skype, or gmail chat?
I'll see you in the chat rooms!
Georgia Owen Apr 2015
Mail
Gmail
Inbox
Back
ExBoyfriends
Checking for mail...
Updated just now.
Checking for mail...
Updated just now.
Checking for mail...
Updated just now.
****
sg Jun 2013
I swear to every heaven imagined
If I hear one more teenager say "art is dead."
I personally will raise William Shakespeare from the grave so he can tell them a million reasons why he wished he could have had a gmail account.
The night I tried to teach my mother how to send pictures through text message
She sent me eleven texts of the same blurry photo of our family's black labrador.
Don't you dare try to tell me you can't find something beautiful in that.
But whatever, stay in your close minded, backwards, noninclusive club.
The rest of us will keep falling in love over Skype.
Write your protest letters to the packaging companies of children's toys
We're all going to watch the first sunrise of the year
So we can remember what a hopeful beginning feels like
When it feels like we're close to a hopeless end.
Lock yourself away like Marie Antoinette
While we all eat cake and tweet about its delicious flavors.
Hashtag stop living in your own pretentious world.
Vincent Van Gogh would have take 20 pictures a day and posted them all on instagram.
Sylvia Plath would have texted her lovers heart eyed emojis when she ran out of words.
Andy Warhol would have had the worlds weirdest vine account.
But that okay because we all would have checked it every morning
As we snapchatted pictures of our coffee orders to the people we wish were pressed against our lips instead of that first sip of latte.
This world is spilling over with 85 year olds rewatchibg their favorite musical numbers from my fair lady,
And eight year olds teaching themselves how to play ukuele, all through YouTube videos.
I never have to worry about forgetting what my mothers voice sounds like.
No longer must we sneak into our families phone books to look up the suicide prevention hotline for our best friend.
I'll never wonder how a German person says Guatentaug
Or how butterflies procreate.
Yeah I've googled both of those things,
Don't worry about it.
I'm going to take pictures on my phone of a field filled with dandelions next to the public park
And you will walk by and scoff
As I so expect you to do
But I can only hope one day you realise
How fortunate you are to live in a time
Where at any moment you can Google how to say I love you in one hundred and ten different languages.
J'taime
Te amo
Art is not dead
You are just not looking for it.
My friend pointed out this specific piece of work going around on tumblr and I'm super confused but oh well. Big props to whoever got it big especially since I'm done with this one. The internet can **** sometimes when it comes to intellectual properties. I'm going to assume it is some weird mishap because I love and believe in the good in all people.
Babu kandula Jun 2012
Facebook comments తో  పలకరిస్తుంటావు .
Gmail attachments పంపి  secret information ఇస్తుంటావు  .
Google talk తో  chat చేసి  జిందగీ  మొత్తం  నువ్వనిపిస్తావు .
Hotmail use చేసి  solid గా  మంటెకిస్తావు .
Orkut open చేస్తే  notifications  లా  కనపడతావు .
Google+ circles లో  add చేసుకుని  గుబ్బులే  పుట్టిస్తావు .
Ibibo account లో  నా  photos అన్ని  నింపేస్తావు  .
Twitter tweets పంపి  తికమకలలో  పెటేస్తావు .
Skype call చేసి  నా  night నిద్రే  పూర్తిగా  దోచేస్తావు  .
Yahoo mails పంపి  ఏఖంగా  నీ  భానిసల  చేసేస్తావు .
"What aa piece of work is man!;
" How noble in reason!...." exclaims Hamlet,
        
          
As there was a mistake in the second line, it is repeated here, after adding the preposition "in". I request the readers to excuse me.  M.G.Narasimha Murthy.
Hyderabad, India.     mgnmurthy4@gmail. com
So Jo Jan 2015
Everyone was saying it'd hit 40°C tomorrow, a truer marker of summer’s arrival than a pinch and a punch on the 1st December. But I was leaving today. Bags packed, ready. A last smoke on the balcony before the taxi would pull up below. Right now on Scott Base somebody was probably typing my name into all the necessary [NAME HERE] gaps in the arrivals documentation, but by the time I’d be in a position to sign along the final dotted line it'd be too late to back out. Flights out of NZ’s base in Antarctica leave every second Tuesday morning and book up more than a month in advance. There are no flights at all from February through to August.

I had nowhere else to go anyway, the spare key to her apartment kicked under her door three weeks ago.  


---
Within just a handful of days of each other, we’d somehow both of us slept with other people. "Slept with." What a frigid way to put it. Of course I do mean ****** – the sleeping part simply an awkward optional accompaniment to the consequentials. So, we’d both of us ****** other people, and although nothing was said the weight of the truth buzzed between us, unsettling and persistent.  

I’m unsure which of us had gone first. I imagine it was ladies before gentlemen.


---
It was six years ago that I‘d followed her over to Australia, six years ago that she'd looked up over some textbook and said with a smirk that she'd never dreamed she’d let a man with such "offensive paws" anywhere near her, let alone fall for him.

It's true that within a few weeks of starting my apprenticeship my hands were stained black, with slow-healing sores opening up between the fingers, and the crusts of tired eczema aggravated by the incessant and optimistically futile scrub of soap. I was known for leaving behind dark smudges around light switches. But she hadn't seemed to mind my leaving soft fingerprints on her.

“D’you think there’s any language that's got sufficient words for all the different kinds of love? Like the Inuit and all their words for snow?”

I took a tray of ice cubes from the freezer, held her wrists behind her back with my right hand, and tipped the frozen cubes down the front of her warm and crumpled shirt.


---
And then? And then.

I won't detail the cruel and gradual tilt apart, increasing degree by degree up over the years, sliding us into roles and positions neither could recognise ourselves in. Mutually check-mated. What better way to tip the chessboard than start playing with somebody else.


---
The day she left her computer on and Gmail logged in the first grass fires of the season were reported in the north of Victoria, and the Bureau of Meteorology was predicting yet another “hottest summer on record.” I could only read the top three messages from him and her responses before logging off.

I hadn't even thought to ask for any somebody else's email address.

I grabbed my own laptop and opened a new browser. Google: jobs antarctica.


---
My best mate and I had dropped out of high school together to be taken on as plumbing apprentices: petrol and beer money in exchange for bubonic hands. At some point during those early days of drain and dame laying I came across a profile piece in the NZ Plumber about a guy who'd done a 12 month stint at Scott Base. Back then I’d doubted that I'd ever become the kind of man who could survive the snow and ice and dawnless darkness of a polar night.
FESTIVAL OF LIGHTS
                           (DEEPAVALI)*    
    
May countless lights  
Show delightful sights.
May there be no threat of violence,
No clouds of smoke,
No smell of sulphur,  
No sound of gunfire,
No scenes of ruined homes,
No sorrow that dims the light
In anyone's eyes,
May the light of knowledge and wisdom
Illumine the path to happiness.
May the light of joy and love
Sparkle in everyone's eyes
In every humble home.
May our fervent prayer
Lead mankind from darkness to Light.
May all nations together strive
To pave the way to harmony and peace.
              ***M.G.Narasimha Murthy
Hyderabad, India.   mgnmurthy4@gmail. com.
  * Festival of Lights, 'DEEPAVALI' is celebrated all over India
     on 11 November 2015
Andrew T Feb 2017
LMS
I don't feel safe,
as though a predator has found
the combination to my comfort zone,
and now has unlocked it,
and is stealing my peace of mind.
"Please stop," I plead.

My arms are shaking, my hangover
is bigger than Trump's Wall.
The same blocked number appears and reappears
, then repeats on my phone screen.
I had to block you on my Gmail (Is that even a thing?).
Tinder used to be for fun,
and now I have contracted a haunting for five lifetimes.

My old friends do not want to speak to me.
I understand their worries, finally,
and I hope it's not too late to listen.
But your screeching voice is deafening
and it's hurting my sanity.

I'm sitting on my soft couch,
writing this poem,
and my fingers tremble as I write.
Because I don't even feel safe in my own house.
Once upon a time,
I thought we would say the "I dos."
Now, all I want is whiskey until I reach oblivion.

IRL is the steepest road to travel on,
but I chose a shortcut,
and now I have fallen off and into a descent
into a madness that Ginsberg has only whispered about
during smoke breaks at the temple building.
Quitting to smoke cigarettes is easier
than dealing with your stab-wounds of sentences.

Like my FaceBook Status,
if you've ever felt violated and controlled
by an old flame.
Then grab a fire extinguisher,
press the lever,
and put out the conflagration,
before it burns your life away.

-Andy
H Aubrey Nov 2018
Bunch of notifications popped up on my iPhone
34 new Gmail messages in just two hours
Searching for just one
It’s not coming
It’s not there
It’s over
I’ll have to find joy somewhere else
Iron eyes that chase the fire &&&

It's a fire from the supplier.;;;,;,

It's my body. My apparel

My attire.??????

Unaware I'm ensnared_

With eyes wider than

A night mare.


I'm running through the isles

Of night terror.


With a smile there.


My mind a white fang

The high like

Why and why there__

We do the night thing.::

Like a mind creep:::

With a pipe dream:::

And I'm on my heads sleep))))

Yeah right.

Need the high.

Less than I'm living 

In the deads reach.))))))

It's a trench shovel....


Living in the dead shuttle.....

Looking like my heads bleached)))))


Medication.

Still impatient

Wonder when  my sents. breached.)))

About the same time.

I'll be boxed into a dead heat))))

But talks like mister spock

Have got my ****** fingers

In a hot streak^^^^%%^

I'm vanna white

I touch more dees 

Than a hooked on Phoenix

Boxed theme.....
&&

I copied this from Gmail.
*** I wrote this in
A hot streak.*.........

Like I'm trying
To make my former
The abortion
Of a soft dream.
When I wake.
You'll think
I'm great. Or genius.
Trying to hide
A botched demon.......
From revealing
That I was caught sleeping.......
In a world where music takes
So long to make
It's considered.
To be a long descending
Staircase.
To a God feeling......
Not being obnoxious.
But I think
Nausea can be blotted
Out so ******* spot free.
Siiiiick
Doing tags on this one *** the last one was good
Hope White Jun 2018
“What is it You REALLY Want, CAPRICORN?”
my back-up Gmail account beckons me.

To not plan my own 25th birthday party
but still have it happen.
And for everyone one who’s ever met me to attend
And stay with me and promise to never leave
And then never leave, just like they promised.

Apparently I’m wrong.
The horoscope tells me to be cautious during the retrograde.

I need this email to fill me
For five minutes,
To tide me to sleep.

I need this five minutes of
Emptiness
To fill me completely.
SURETICE TONGUE Jun 2018
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6 of 184

Majesty's Thereupon
COUCH ALLENS
Apr 10
to j_blayze2002
Majesty’s Thereupon

Region wifery taken role witnesses smart

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Retaining the unpredictable  ‘Co-Existence’ of Overalls/ Inhabitants

‘One-Litre’-Imagination Drills….’

PORTAL MADE INSURANCE GAZETTE  ' SPEAR EARNS...'













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Barkley Layne Oct 2014
It was then I noticed
staring at our Gmail back grounds;
his being dark wood,
mine being the gentle ocean,
that we would not last.
I am a free spirit roaming the world and him?... he is a tree.. stuck in the same place.
The rosy hue of the evening sky
Fades into the grey of the earth;
Shadows weave a magic web
Around the hectic world.
On the desolate moor, dark and cold,
A lonely traveller plods his way.
As fearful fancies haunt his mind,
He prays for help  from Heaven above.
A glimmering star appears through gliding clouds,
Cheers his heart: his drooping spirit revives.
                
Far beyond the world of his dreams, it shines
And bids his sinking soul
Rise above the shadows of the gloomy world
And see the celestial light.
Restless and weary, amidst frightful sights,
With none to guide his faltering steps,
He struggles for a glimpse of the heavenly light.
"What vain struggle!" cries a voice deep within.
"The star that beckons you from the sky,
" Is but a reflection of the Light divine
"Enshrined in your own heart
" And pervades your MARVELLOUS MIND.
"Let thy inward eye pierce the veil
" And behold the splendour of the LIGHT within
"That will dispel darkness and thy path illumine."
                     ****   M.G.Narasimha Murthy
Hyderabad, India.                      mgnmurthy4@gmail. com
The poem is allegorical.
I am online,
and I have so many account names
I don’t know which one is me.

So who am I?

On Gmail, I try to be myself,
reduced to bits, words, images.

On Twitter,
I flitter about
always tweeting
always listening.

What am I?

On Facebook,
I am a highly evolved
social animal.

On Instagram,
I post my best photos.
Look how
attractive
fun loving
well dressed
I am!

Who am I?

On YouTube,
I watch interesting and important videos,
so I can feel like that sort of person.

On Vine,
I post crazy antics,
silly stunts,
witty clumps of words.
I count my views,
and judge myself.

Who am I?

On the New York Times
I am anonymous,
wearing a grey hat,
using computer tricks
to sneak in
without spending money.

Who is that?

On Hello Poetry,
I try to be the clever fool,
daft and canny.
I write what I feel,
but push the words away
from myself,
into the empty space
between my computer
and yours.

Where am I?

and Who am I?

Online,
I have a hundred faces,
so I have none.
Who are you?
IncholPoem Jan 2019
Yesterday  Night
  moon  was  seen  clearly
  on  sky.
But  at  evening
  my  one  gmail  of  three
did  not  agree  to
   be  open.  

The  skin-password  
should   be  opened  of  eyes    to
to  see  the  moon.

The  passwords  did  not
take  the  old  Gmail account.

Old  unrecovered   gmail
and  its  templates  were
recalling   my  creating  days.
After sleeping a thousand years fell on my face greater light current Solar. I slept without smiling at the crowds buried and smearing my only bones.

The search of that hubbub, made me celebrate the porous bodies and spraying smooth falling on my fingers, delighting my humble tributes to the beetles that accompanied me to direct my view to the nearby burial vaults me. Some were swollen with a semblance of augury awakeness; like starting today, with the ominous words They moved from today, the paddling of my fleshless jaws.

Among gravestones of emerald flowers dinosauric, in clear blue autumn, some birds scrub on the edges of the carved stones. Meanwhile, mustards were riding on dry leaves carnations. The white-clad looked up Drestnia slab that closed their senses, remained behind bars with his hands crossed as evolving body To attend a new era of geography and different technology. On his chest he would run the living vertiginous wind up the corporeal hint in the light of Koumeterium Messolonghi; that housed over a thousand years ago, at Etréstles of Kalavrita.

This huge palace and flat, it is nothing more than an asylum, where the worst plague that began with the death of the sentinels of Lucifer, who dropped this place with its beautiful golden layers originated; whose satagénesis emerge the burning soil to ten fossilized cemeteries under the Messolonghi.

He walked slowly dragging my old body, the tenth floor, and that teenage girl's pointed stones would break my nails; as such if they were claws of a mammal trapped by lava from a volcano. In each advance, I awaken in my armor patriotic my last fight, and his tenderness observes how parents tilled by the conglomerate caste, fighting in underground elements.

Etréstles awakening ...:

Etréstles ...: Which of all columns erected is able to open all columns built in the pavilion of these moles without form or color ... just vitalizing lung diaphragm Eólico my daydreams, is who I think would ...?

To all who are runaways and trapped underground Messolonghi, I bring you good tidings ... Auriga with its blacksmiths come from the region of the Dodecanese to loosen the bars you father  Staktos lucid and my mother Vitabión well that in a thousand years, has been damaged her beautiful body. Since my birth in Ayia Lavra, I was being buried for the ninth time in the Ninth Fossilized Cemetery. Whose archpriest with holy oil trickled down my wall, pretending to be a dance of water generated at the bottom of the Ionian. Between the arches of the temple columns running down my mother Vitabión; an outward sacral vertebral bathe in the water of my past christenings. My past lives were providing mandated by the Auriga their previous lives. And your mother ... A day tried the weight of my recycle ... ?!

Beyond you., Comrades of wars, pilgrimages sacrosanct, lush gauzy baths civilization in the Olympic and equestrian fields.

To you. That you lie here, as is my death in my last life in the hands of a Spartan soldier. Pcs., Blood of my blood, I feel inside me speak your need ...

And in the ending Drestnia, which by its sixth rising from here from Messolonghi, between bars sealed thy grave situation for the Hellenic indeterminate.

I had to drink from the Pinosa resin to speak here, with my bony hands to touch the others are like yours ...

... Drestnia, my rib still preserved, I will be reborn placating the domain of collective wishful thinking, which prevents your freedom.

My rib you return to your present life, whose cold, flower seeds skeletonize the perimeter of your life ... Etréstles was with them into the Koumeterium Messolonghi, to about 1800 meters zenith direction.

They were to be the Necromessolonghi Council to define the minutes. -while music with winds adorned arrival-. Just at the moment, came the Auriga with its blacksmiths, they came to liberate Drestnia with its multi conscience. What happiness to Etréstles! He ran through the underground halls, to the oldest Koumeterium, the first fossilized. Where thousands of years ago, with many now-extinct species, Etréstles came to them the resoundingly good news.

While the Council inveighed promulgating the divine Sarmiento spray fields Dodecanese in producing seeds of Markos Botsaris.

Judge…: With my lameness, I have to advocate the reintegration of outstanding Markos Botsaris, that once we free them of the Turkish occupation!

Asurbanipal ...My Sirio reign, full of dynamism, placed on their doorposts the powerful image of South-west wind, in honor of his victorious from Kalidona.

Etréstles brought Drestnia just walking the Council and thousands of harmoniums undermined doubts Manor invoking the hero. They all stand, the Council at its octagonal table with his assistants left empty vine glasses to welcome, to the last surviving female first Koumeterium Messolonghi.

Harmoniums, as Apollonian rubies widen the dimensions of the caverns vaults. She sits and ends the music. Drestnia with some leaves on his shoulders adorned the new scene, which would sit by the new future.

Asurbanipal ...: To you gifts Oh, the universe, you are welcome to this Council, where one day they brought me to praise my contributions from the entrance of Humanity!

But the issue for today will await the arrival of Markos Botsaris as you who have reached this border, thanks to the generous Auriga.

Charioteer…: ***** wax Orion; Eternal fuel, donated them strength to my steeds pairs, that were raised over distant lands, to reach my blacksmiths desoldering the bars of Drestnia.

Blacksmith…: Our eyes closed every hundred kilometers, but Eurydice with your calendar, made the aphelion enclose us this feat.

Echoes ...: Dust ..., Myth ... Dream ... illusion ... have swirled galloping millennia, wearing gray storm...!

What dark words illuminate the hopes, just below, it is well known that there is much to do, because there is more activity on the surface ...!

Judge…: Etréstles, Drestnia ... past, present, or future will speak of you.

You Drestnia ... !, how long dream ..., defied your gothic vision, not move my neck to your neighbors, loved buried in the first Fossilized Koumeterium.

Vitabión ...: Messolonghi lives up to all cemeteries in the world, where they loved theirs near them. But they do not know life here is more dynamic than in the world of their own.

Menopausal women ...My husband cries on my slab because his infidelity caused me a bad venereal, which today has removed me from his life. The cries and cries for my ****** decline, all for being with another woman condemned me.

one curtain rises and leaves Funebrio; concelebrating priest all recent deaths ...

Funebrio ...: Woman when you cry my black clothes, cry black tears ...!

Your husband remains static, with no movement, despite many kilometers to their own devices. Forbidden habit becomes, how tempting. But rebellious Mother Nature pours us their punishment.

Staktos ...: Friends kisses you give yourself, Where have posted ideations ...?

Or yield to scatter everywhere the oscillations they meet other mouths.

Etréstles ...: Everyone I ask do well to prepare your labors. Even so, his desire to hold my naughty please heart in this hour by the arrival of Drestnia.

The judge asks to adjourn for the recess could then discuss strategies for future deaths.

Gravedigger ...Lord Judge at the stepped eastern sector has buried an architect. We could ask your cooperation to Botsaris monument.

Judge…: All in good time. It will be done, does anyone want something narrow ...? -Drestnia raised his hand and asked ...:

Drestnia ...: With Etréstles in the last minutes of our lives, which extortioner once is finished this monument, where our souls will be destined to remain here temporarily ... Messolonghi?

( extract from  Koumeterium Messolonghi, if any want a whole ebook to write joseluisctravel@gmail .com )

www.joseluiscarreniotroncoso.wordpress.com
Koumeterium Messolonghi. Epic and Metaphysic; book based upon 1.000 b.C. Era. Etrestles from Kalavrita rise up after having 9 lives. and then, liberate the sadly moment of the buried in Messolonghi.
SURETICE TONGUE Jun 2018
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42 of 184

Priesthood...LionQuest

COUCH ALLENS
12/13/17
to samikoku
Priesthood LionQuest…

Ultra-Gifted…New tonques audible

Utterances to an Expected EnD; Under a deserving

PRAISE…; Quantifying  of every deposits=SovereignPRODUCTS

….;7SPIRITCHANTS….;SQUAD-IN-ARKCORPOR­ATION MERCHANDISE THE SPIRITPROGRAMS IN THE INVOCATION

INSIGHTS-IQ TITHING EXPLOITS….SURPLUSINTERESTS

….THE FAITH RENDERING DECENT

….MENUINNOVATION THE PRIORITY OF MANY EXPERTISE

…PILGRIMSFACES REPLACING-ISSUES APPLAUDS.

Visibly decorated in the confronts overwhelming-nutrient…;

STRONGGOD Proven translation into HEAVENSBUOTANCY…

Recurring “Genetic-Going’ in the reality PUSHDIVINITY…: Unveiling

The universality of discipleship mightily in the EMBODIMENT OF

GODLY “Stocks-Attributes” The voted all virtues votes at infancy of

REDEPOSITES TAMED EXCELLENCIES OF AUDIBLEDOUBLE OATHS…;Quantifying believers deposition of interpretations…;Aided in the all “Potential-Pattern-Potency’ The Ego 9 SPIRITPROOF/ SailingColors/ ViSIONANALYSIS/ RHEMA REACHING ******/ DEEPNUGGING DISCOVERIES IN THE INDISPENSABLE TESTIMONIAL…;Reception rescues Advisory in GOSPELTHRILL

CHOSEN THE CORRELATIVE-FORCES…;RESOUNDING THE GOSHEN

CONTINUUM/ YIELDING INCREASESCREATE….;

BOSS-BREATHES  PREVALENCE....'


YOUR  HEAVENS ACCUMULATION-GUIDANCE,



SESSIONS  'STAFF' A WHOLE  ROYALTY CROWN CREST:

email : believingvirtue@gmail.com

+2348131914240


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SURETICE TONGUE Jun 2018
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Promissory Sufficient / Inexhaustible Backed/

COUCH ALLENS
12/23/17
to samikoku
Promissory Sufficient

/Inexhaustible Backed/

Flaming leisure need the “Jesus-Sets” revival trigger

Salvation  first of all…Ultimatum plus redeeming

Love intercession…internet-clips mighty manifestations

Earth explosion of life extracts for all “FaithOffice” Lord

Assurance peace receives altar the seasons answer of

Submarine believers weapon… ; Footsteps of giants responded

To call of incline patterns...; Evangelised by the waytackling

Obligises forensic missions illumination penetrated…; God’s

Bullet manner covenant weighing attempt believers capital…;

Impartation oxford cleeves…; GloryGains seeing entire

Crusade took place billing number…; Spirit mutual gifts of

The spirit supply slice symposium…; Charismatic manufacturer

Solving clairvoyance…; Irrevocable recover gifts of discerning…;

Potential flowering kinetic kinds…; Powerpoised testimonial

Chases…; Open fiesta rearing “Ostrich” breedbreathe participates

Deposites…; ShoutGod’s fame depths recalling  inspirations…;

Guard orientation scraping the bottom of

The barrel…; Gubernatorial  spirit swung touches…; Invulnerable dissecting  God addicts…; Sieves of the first fruits curriculum…;

Jump ride saints suit precession…; Journey thorough glory bliss

activation…; Knowledge push parade…;



Your Pilgrim Consensus

INHERITORS 'WINK-WINDOWS:

email : believingvirtue@gmail.com

+2348131914240,



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ogdiddynash Mar 2015
Stephanibaby
you scam me in so many places,
urgently ubiquitous,
contact me ASAP
on gmail,
cause we got so much in common

you want to borrow some bucks to;

ransom your brother,
claim a bank account
you'll gladly share,
buy your own freedom from
a Nigerian pirate,
my oh my
what an imagination,
ever try you hand at
writing poetry?

babe,
you so deserve a poem
all your own
Ms. Stephanibaby

we got so much in common,
we both scam the hearts of man,
you profit and for gain
inflicting some pain
free of charge

me, with words,
free of charge,
just hoping they will
charge someone's heart

I see they deleted you account,
no worries babe,
you will always have a place
permanently here
now that
I have immortalized
you girl
in free words of
humorous contempt
Arihant Verma Mar 2016
When a humble abode, redirects you
like the page redirection of gmail
to think your body is not more than
a container to get you the bail

Of the next life that you'd get
in the astral or the causal tree,
or perhaps you'll dissolve you bet,
in the ever flowing cosmic sea.
Kelynn May 2015
Google, oh google
thank you for storing
all of my documents and files
in one easily accessible place
that I can get to from any
Internet connected device.
thank you for pretending
to be your own social media
that could be really cool
if anyone ever actually used it.
thank you for connecting my Gmail
with my YouTube account
and auto filling online paper work
for me.
you are great!
Love, Kelynn

— The End —