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"gyros" poems
Fried green beens Whirl of the machines Flashing lights Squeals of delight Games to win prizes Drinks in all sizes Pig and cow judging Old friends hugging Bands in the grandstand Fried pickles at foodstand Gator bites and gyros Rides tossing to and fro Cotton candy Salt water taffy Beer tents Free events Pies, canning and art Contest to take part Many concessionaire Great old fashion state fair
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Mar 22, 2016
Mar 22, 2016 at 11:42 AM UTC
Old Fashion Sate Fair
A leaked sanity derived from a single unintentional stimulus She immediately drowned in her illusions A cascade of ecstatic emotional state Led her to unexplained exhilarating lub-dubs She entered a trance An imaginary setting of pseudo-relationship, originating from a deceptive analysis Butterflies lodged in her stomach Like drifting into the sweet tranquil breeze of fall Odd feeling brought by an accidental impulse an addictive sensation, continually sought Like an ice cream that thaws and never did she regret for this Like a bud that delayed its bloom She is a fixated lass fast-tracked into maturity, Depriving her of being subjected to adolescent giggles and anguishes Coping for deficiency, to undergo short-lived fascinations It was never an ordinary night, for it would happen only but annually It was extraordinary where angels descended from heaven She looked at him as a critical thinker *** philosopher inside a venerable physique His intuitive notions flowed keeping his cleverness inhibited, ingenuity simply emanated Decisive metaphorical analogies were mesmerizing, in the depth of the gyros and sulcus in his intellect she wanted to drown The mystery of his smirks she wanted to decipher. In the profoundly of his personality she wished to be familiar. Electrocution! Extreme voltage in her physique sanity almost dripped She cared less about reality, forgetting about lucidity and rationality A plethora of outlook insurgencies led to confused convictions Nothing big really happened, just a matter of split seconds summarized as a simple skin-to-skin contact an exhilarating interaction between epidermal layers A premature ventricular contractions.
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Jan 28, 2016
Jan 28, 2016 at 10:11 AM UTC
Spark: A Temporary Loss of Lucidity
A leaked sanity derived from a single unintentional stimulus She immediately drowned in her illusions A cascade of ecstatic emotional state Led her to unexplained exhilarating lub-dubs She entered a trance An imaginary setting of pseudo-relationship, originating from a deceptive analysis Butterflies lodged in her stomach Like drifting into the sweet tranquil breeze of fall Odd feeling brought by an accidental impulse an addictive sensation, continually sought Like an ice cream that thaws and never did she regret for this Like a bud that delayed its bloom She is a fixated lass fast-tracked into maturity, Depriving her of being subjected to adolescent giggles and anguishes Coping for deficiency, to undergo short-lived fascinations It was never an ordinary night, for it would happen only but annually It was extraordinary where angels descended from heaven She looked at him as a critical thinker *** philosopher inside a venerable physique His intuitive notions flowed keeping his cleverness inhibited, ingenuity simply emanated Decisive metaphorical analogies were mesmerizing, in the depth of the gyros and sulcus in his intellect she wanted to drown The mystery of his smirks she wanted to decipher. In the profoundly of his personality she wished to be familiar. Electrocution! Extreme voltage in her physique sanity almost dripped She cared less about reality, forgetting about lucidity and rationality A plethora of outlook insurgencies led to confused convictions Nothing big really happened, just a matter of split seconds summarized as a simple skin-to-skin contact an exhilarating interaction between epidermal layers A premature ventricular contractions.
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47
All the people and colors move by. Life poured down streets and tiny brick Sidewalks rubbed with decades of shoes. The aroma of yesterday and tomorrow Filled the airstream carried by the traffic From a vendor a block down. Gyros. Every-so-often I like to come into the city To see how people act around other people. It keeps me sane and washes from me Big land’s disconnect. I recall, with every Memory trigger that shoots off and cracks The things I have not thought of since My last trip here. I think to myself why? Memory and time, occasionally, don’t mix, But time needs memory to be remembered And memory needs time to exist… I suddenly thought of you, though— That time you told me that news and I Ran off for a year and some months. You called to say you were sorry— You even wrote me a letter, but I was gone. Your call the other day was nice. It reminded me why I am the way I am, And you are the way you are, and why We aren’t together, and why I enjoy spending Days and days alone on old barrier islands To spear fish and make camp in the sand.
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May 5, 2013
May 5, 2013 at 2:27 PM UTC
And from there I sat and watched