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"hare" poems
I bow to Lotus Feet, which gives me eternal peace I am incomplete without your compassion you healed my heart when it was thrown and shattered you picked me up when I struggled to get through you gave me hope when it seemed so out of reach I am nothing without you Where ever I go, found not alone your glorious touch was always with me Nectar drop of Gita, feels presents of yours O! my Lord Krishna show me the light on my path your Flute stirs the Universal Consciousness And Gita enchants the Transcendental Consciousness O! Lord of the whole Universe, Omnipotent Master of all Grant me a glimpse of Thyself,Be pleased to come and live inside me                                          -----------------------------------: :--------------------------------- By : Karunakar Saroj (In the love of Lord Krishna) “hare krishna hare krishna krishna krishna hare hare hare rama hare rama rama rama hare hare”
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Aug 3, 2014
Aug 3, 2014 at 3:43 PM UTC
**O! MY LORD KRISHNA**
It's cold in Duhallow this morning and the fields that were green yesterday Lay chilled to the frost that the night brought a cover of silvery gray And the little dunnock on bare hedgerow too cold and too hungry to sing On **** branch he perch sad and silent the hardship that January can bring. The robins and sparrows by back door like beggars they wait to be fed In hope that when breakfast is eaten the housewife might throw out some bread With no thought for song or for nesting their battle is to stay alive How many will live to see April the Winter so hard to survive? The first heavy snows of the Winter have fallen on the higher ground On Clara, Shrone and Caherbarnagh the hills are so white all around The blackbird and thrush on the bare branch their feathers fluffed against the chill And hare has come down to the lowland there's nothing to eat on the hill. But I can remember the bright days when sun shone on the leafy tree And robins and thrushes and finches piped in the woods of Knocknagree And to her nest on barn rafters the sparrow brought feathers and hay And out on the dandelion meadow the pipit sang all through the day. Young calves and young lambs in green pastures were full of the frolics of Spring And joy too had come to the river the song of the dipper did ring And moorhen was out with her babies and she chirped loud if human was near Her first lesson to them survival to teach them the meaning of fear. It's cold in Duhallow this morning the thrush silent on the bare tree And gray on the fields and the hedgerows and gray over all Knocknagree But I can remember the bright days when nesting birds piped all the day And hedgerows and woodlands and meadows smelt sweet with the blossoms of May.
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Aug 10, 2010
Aug 10, 2010 at 6:42 PM UTC
A January Morning In Knocknagree
It's cold in Duhallow this morning and the fields that were green yesterday Lay chilled to the frost that the night brought a cover of silvery gray And the little dunnock on bare hedgerow too cold and too hungry to sing On **** branch he perch sad and silent the hardship that January can bring. The robins and sparrows by back door like beggars they wait to be fed In hope that when breakfast is eaten the housewife might throw out some bread With no thought for song or for nesting their battle is to stay alive How many will live to see April the Winter so hard to survive? The first heavy snows of the Winter have fallen on the higher ground On Clara, Shrone and Caherbarnagh the hills are so white all around The blackbird and thrush on the bare branch their feathers fluffed against the chill And hare has come down to the lowland there's nothing to eat on the hill. But I can remember the bright days when sun shone on the leafy tree And robins and thrushes and finches piped in the woods of Knocknagree And to her nest on barn rafters the sparrow brought feathers and hay And out on the dandelion meadow the pipit sang all through the day. Young calves and young lambs in green pastures were full of the frolics of Spring And joy too had come to the river the song of the dipper did ring And moorhen was out with her babies and she chirped loud if human was near Her first lesson to them survival to teach them the meaning of fear. It's cold in Duhallow this morning the thrush silent on the bare tree And gray on the fields and the hedgerows and gray over all Knocknagree But I can remember the bright days when nesting birds piped all the day And hedgerows and woodlands and meadows smelt sweet with the blossoms of May.
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24
*A coarse, yellow coat with dark spot aplenty Lean as a greyhound with limb long and lengthy, Faster than hare from a cold standing start Impossibly glimpsed in tall grasses that part. Crystaline jewels in two huge hazel eyes With the svelt of a feline’s cold killing surprise, Explosively quick with an elegant gait And a murderous jaw full of canines that wait For a fleeing gazelle or a springbok at speed Then a launch that would emulate bullet, when freed. Incredibly smooth with a fast loping stride That would tax any racehorse an envious ride, Snapping manouvers to left and to right That mirror a quarry’s evasions of flight. A blur in a frantic explosion of dust Then the life blood erupts, splashing red as the rust. Heaving great flanks after thrill of the chase Wide open muzzle and gore on the face, Guarding the game till the kittens locate Then the spoils of the chase will make portions dictate.* Marshalg Serengetti Plain Central Africa 30 November 2012
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Nov 29, 2012
Nov 29, 2012 at 5:46 PM UTC
Cheetah
i've moved past my belief in the Christian trinity... for me... the meditation stands on the pivot of the following translation the hexagon, start of david - which translates as the Holy Ghost - which denotes a congregation... the pentagon? of the befitting analogy to the five senses... the "son of man" - or simply... the myopia of man having to excavate the sixth sense using telescopes, microscopes, the like... and, finally? on a hand of five extensions, there are four... the square...   Y                    H             ⠁⠑                     read clockwise                                       like English traffic H                     W            on a roundabout. which? denotes the father...     if the Hebrews "think" they can hide their vowels?    the Latin answer is...    to interpolate Braille into their language...        and Emperor Nero would have appreciated it... whether with, or without the Byzantine propaganda machinery of the nevus testamentum... and it wasn't a propagandist piece?     how much longer did the eastern Empire, outlive the Western empire, when the onslaught by the Ottoman's reached                   Constantinople?! the Greek were craving a cultural revival!         they believed the Romans to have origins in Troy! they plaid the weakest cultural card of Judaism, revamping it into Christianity... hell... that's what i believe... and i'm not about to meet a Jehovah's Witness propagandist, or some aged Pakistani citing the Quran on a park bench...   or some Scientologist on Oxford St. with his wacky machine...   or some pseudo Hare Krishna monk with a book about some guru, pushing it like marijuana...    to change my mind on what i'm digesting! plus?   ⠽                   ⠓               Æ                  ( read anti-clockwise)                                             ⠓                    ⠺ fits in perfectly into the Adam and Eve narrative - as with all mythology - given the extent of time...     nuance, metaphor... abbreviation...                    ars poetica!
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Aug 19, 2018
Aug 19, 2018 at 8:32 PM UTC
Y⠁HW⠑H
i've moved past my belief in the Christian trinity... for me... the meditation stands on the pivot of the following translation the hexagon, start of david - which translates as the Holy Ghost - which denotes a congregation... the pentagon? of the befitting analogy to the five senses... the "son of man" - or simply... the myopia of man having to excavate the sixth sense using telescopes, microscopes, the like... and, finally? on a hand of five extensions, there are four... the square...   Y                    H             ⠁⠑                     read clockwise                                       like English traffic H                     W            on a roundabout. which? denotes the father...     if the Hebrews "think" they can hide their vowels?    the Latin answer is...    to interpolate Braille into their language...        and Emperor Nero would have appreciated it... whether with, or without the Byzantine propaganda machinery of the nevus testamentum... and it wasn't a propagandist piece?     how much longer did the eastern Empire, outlive the Western empire, when the onslaught by the Ottoman's reached                   Constantinople?! the Greek were craving a cultural revival!         they believed the Romans to have origins in Troy! they plaid the weakest cultural card of Judaism, revamping it into Christianity... hell... that's what i believe... and i'm not about to meet a Jehovah's Witness propagandist, or some aged Pakistani citing the Quran on a park bench...   or some Scientologist on Oxford St. with his wacky machine...   or some pseudo Hare Krishna monk with a book about some guru, pushing it like marijuana...    to change my mind on what i'm digesting! plus?   ⠽                   ⠓               Æ                  ( read anti-clockwise)                                             ⠓                    ⠺ fits in perfectly into the Adam and Eve narrative - as with all mythology - given the extent of time...     nuance, metaphor... abbreviation...                    ars poetica!
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81
You were so hot I spun twice to see, call me a fan Your regal youth made my blood boil, call you peter pan *You were like a boomerang I wanted to throw away but you kept* coming back to me, *And maybe I've always been scared of hurdles and you were my biggest one, 'cause I just can't* get over you, you see I thought you were like a paradox: Cool as ice and hot as molten rock You were like a magician with words, drove me so crazy I was pulling out my hare, You steal my heart like a pirate captain when I sea you standing there, But you didn’t have any morals, I deserve to call you whoreible Yet you still think you're cute. you know? leaving my house the way you came would be adooreble I discovered your texts to her on my birthday, the cake was ruined with my tiers You caught my Eye with your animal magnetism, but you’ve been a cheetah for years What? you think this is a game? No, you don't have a clue! You had a monopoly on my life and now your name is taboo You said you needed some time and space to yourself you were the only one in the galaxy I Wanted, I guess life never turns out how you planet and since you left I've been feeling haunted, Why did I believe you were a great catch? Just because you **master ***** You made me think we could smash; every second felt like a brawl Loving you was no gouda, though I swiss you now that you’re gone, it isn’t easy, I said goodbye, It’s not you it’s brie, sorry that was cheesy. You gave my life flavor but you were just a masked spyce that made my life sour like limes I know I need to chili but you have really bad taste and we’re out of thyme I need a holiday *from your lies, my patience is running short I’m better off with you gone, and leaving you is my last* resort I guess we didn't have that spark no need to be astunished, all I know now is: IT IS TIME YOU WERE PUNISHED.
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Jan 7, 2015
Jan 7, 2015 at 9:52 PM UTC
It is time you were ***PUN***ished (Collaboration Spencer Craig and Ember Evanescent)
You were so hot I spun twice to see, call me a fan Your regal youth made my blood boil, call you peter pan *You were like a boomerang I wanted to throw away but you kept* coming back to me, *And maybe I've always been scared of hurdles and you were my biggest one, 'cause I just can't* get over you, you see I thought you were like a paradox: Cool as ice and hot as molten rock You were like a magician with words, drove me so crazy I was pulling out my hare, You steal my heart like a pirate captain when I sea you standing there, But you didn’t have any morals, I deserve to call you whoreible Yet you still think you're cute. you know? leaving my house the way you came would be adooreble I discovered your texts to her on my birthday, the cake was ruined with my tiers You caught my Eye with your animal magnetism, but you’ve been a cheetah for years What? you think this is a game? No, you don't have a clue! You had a monopoly on my life and now your name is taboo You said you needed some time and space to yourself you were the only one in the galaxy I Wanted, I guess life never turns out how you planet and since you left I've been feeling haunted, Why did I believe you were a great catch? Just because you **master ***** You made me think we could smash; every second felt like a brawl Loving you was no gouda, though I swiss you now that you’re gone, it isn’t easy, I said goodbye, It’s not you it’s brie, sorry that was cheesy. You gave my life flavor but you were just a masked spyce that made my life sour like limes I know I need to chili but you have really bad taste and we’re out of thyme I need a holiday *from your lies, my patience is running short I’m better off with you gone, and leaving you is my last* resort I guess we didn't have that spark no need to be astunished, all I know now is: IT IS TIME YOU WERE PUNISHED.
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26
Oh architects of concrete How you have stolen my plains And dredged my soul The Falcon hovers in vain And the Hare has no hope While you swing you clubs For glory and embrace the Walls filled with accolades All at nature's dire expence
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Jul 24, 2018
Jul 24, 2018 at 1:30 PM UTC
The plague
Hello Chicago Flat carpet-town of corn meal steel spears at the northern junction of Cahokia and some unknown dream No lillies grow here sir, no tulip fields though there are many Dutch a little up north Wisconsin, dontcha' know? Family blood rains through the Chicago river named of the blood of a slain tribal wonder wanders with the roaming buffalo I sat at the top of Sears (Willis) Tower and peered into the foggy distance and made out the shores of Michigan through Indiana the leftover rains of a continental freeze churned the earth to butter and carved the arteries and bowels of today's earthly body And when we drove in from O'Hare in the late hours on incessant stoplight highways counting down the streets thinking maybe they'll go all the way to Mississippi just a long row of Concrete I saw the brick tower of a decrepit Frito-lay plant where they cooked their corn and potato into succulent can't eat just one little snacks for the whole of america to enjoy in backyard barbecues and convenience stores and grocery outlets All across the planet Now with the trucks they come and go up to and whizzing past Chicago on to greener states with greater relief with hills and lakes and winding streams Different sections of the sculpture Cities eroding into the pleasant coasts quaking and breaking into tiny stones a monumental David cracked in the gallery bird **** corroding the silicates unpolished and immortal words Chicago! oh you mighty city you built from sod and sweat and dew of new morning I see your towers you dreamer, you But your towers are in Dubai, and Shanghai now The world moved on and forgot everything about that magnificent mile burned to make you earn new toys and fancy things from far beyond your winding river streams But you didn't die amazing, how much they tried to rust you out to bleed you dry no, Chicago, you keep your ***** rivers flowing all the way to the Mississippi flanked by modern Roman concrete all the way to the great green sea out into the puddle that surronds the Amerigo Chicago don't you give up that river dream
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Jun 14, 2018
Jun 14, 2018 at 3:26 PM UTC
O'Chicago
Hello Chicago Flat carpet-town of corn meal steel spears at the northern junction of Cahokia and some unknown dream No lillies grow here sir, no tulip fields though there are many Dutch a little up north Wisconsin, dontcha' know? Family blood rains through the Chicago river named of the blood of a slain tribal wonder wanders with the roaming buffalo I sat at the top of Sears (Willis) Tower and peered into the foggy distance and made out the shores of Michigan through Indiana the leftover rains of a continental freeze churned the earth to butter and carved the arteries and bowels of today's earthly body And when we drove in from O'Hare in the late hours on incessant stoplight highways counting down the streets thinking maybe they'll go all the way to Mississippi just a long row of Concrete I saw the brick tower of a decrepit Frito-lay plant where they cooked their corn and potato into succulent can't eat just one little snacks for the whole of america to enjoy in backyard barbecues and convenience stores and grocery outlets All across the planet Now with the trucks they come and go up to and whizzing past Chicago on to greener states with greater relief with hills and lakes and winding streams Different sections of the sculpture Cities eroding into the pleasant coasts quaking and breaking into tiny stones a monumental David cracked in the gallery bird **** corroding the silicates unpolished and immortal words Chicago! oh you mighty city you built from sod and sweat and dew of new morning I see your towers you dreamer, you But your towers are in Dubai, and Shanghai now The world moved on and forgot everything about that magnificent mile burned to make you earn new toys and fancy things from far beyond your winding river streams But you didn't die amazing, how much they tried to rust you out to bleed you dry no, Chicago, you keep your ***** rivers flowing all the way to the Mississippi flanked by modern Roman concrete all the way to the great green sea out into the puddle that surronds the Amerigo Chicago don't you give up that river dream
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81
Freezing dusk is closing Like a slow trap of steel On trees and roads and hills and all That can no longer feel. But the carp is in its depth Like a planet in its heaven. And the badger in its bedding Like a loaf in the oven. And the butterfly in its mummy Like a viol in its case. And the owl in its feathers Like a doll in its lace. Freezing dusk has tightened Like a nut ******* tight On the starry aeroplane Of the soaring night. But the trout is in its hole Like a chuckle in a sleeper. The hare strays down the highway Like a root going deeper. The snail is dry in the outhouse Like a seed in a sunflower. The owl is pale on the gatepost Like a clock on its tower. Moonlight freezes the shaggy world Like a mammoth of ice - The past and the future Are the jaws of a steel vice. But the cod is in the tide-rip Like a key in a purse. The deer are on the bare-blown hill Like smiles on a nurse. The flies are behind the plaster Like the lost score of a jig. Sparrows are in the ivy-clump Like money in a pig. Such a frost The flimsy moon Has lost her wits. A star falls. The sweating farmers Turn in their sleep Like oxen on spits.
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6.8k
The Warm and the Cold
I am a supreme Light framed being Who leaves ferrari's In the dust I am sorry for your Jealousy as I am Totally terrific And love wearing My fabulous coat Fiercely independent I Imprint the air with My personal spots My proud individuality Nothing out of reach I wait for something to inspire As I hunt lightly Positioning intelligently And quickly Pads on fire I grab the ground As I grip the world With the sharpest claw As evolving and revolving Forces compel me with desire My vibrant cells flicker Waiting for the right trigger Spinning and twisting They collapse into air As I rush and rush chasing and chasing My focus still like stone Lands lightly like a feather As I am clear as Diamond or glass Empty of thoughts I am a tunnel The wind blows through As I run and run Soft and agile I can quickly change Direction or pace Perfect balance my Tail acts as a fulcrum It is as though a Silver thread was attached From high up in heaven Moving on an electric circuit I am lightning through the air Stretching like elastic Expanding into spaces I become a mile long Reaching and Reaching Into proud new places Slipping through the air As though someone Had oiled my hair I slide weightless Air born on ice skates As I catch my hare With her swiftness We find she lifts us With her fire we catch desire
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Nov 29, 2014
Nov 29, 2014 at 6:09 PM UTC
CHEETAH
Life is full of mischief and artful trickery The way through never made easy for the foolhardy Misleading gestures only employed to solely distract Left up to you to decipher and hopefully extract Experiences teach much, had you only been accepting and learning That a dove could be made to appear; out of thin air, out of nothing When the road ahead offers no more than mere misdirections Altered trajectories stemming from convenient misinterpretations Your cards may have been dealt revealing astonishing outcomes "Not the hand you get but the game you play," said some Depending on deft wrists and a flick of the wand Overnight you'll wake to find that a new day had dawned Only would happen if into the wind you hadn't spat Hope would emerge like a hare out of a top hat The play on light and shadow, nothing short of dramatic You volunteer onstage, accompanied by apprehension and suspenseful music Faced with an eager audience; you realise that alone you stand Be not surprised to learn that love is life's sleight of hand...
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Sep 4, 2014
Sep 4, 2014 at 8:22 AM UTC
Sleight of Hand
Blue eyes, bald head, haggard skin...dead... It was like a race with a bet for her life if she lost Her delicate figure encased by a tortoises shell but no match for the hare that infects her blood speeding through the race ...speeding through her life But wait... the hare slowed down, taking a rest letting her, the slow tortoise gradually start to win this race this fight Steps from the finish line steps from overcoming this battle ...whoosh... She lost Cancer won the race...and her life Dedicated to Carol MacPherson
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Oct 23, 2012
Oct 23, 2012 at 3:59 PM UTC
The Tortoise and the Hare
i like the countryside and all there is to see so many different things you can view for free there are lots of thing waiting to be found lots of flowers and plants growing from the ground there are animals the badger and the hare hedgehogs and the squirrel all of them are there there are many berries some that you can eat mushrooms and the garlic a tasty little treat there are mice and moles and the little shrew many other creature waiting there for you lots and lots of things that nature has to give mother natures way that helps the world to live
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Mar 31, 2014
Mar 31, 2014 at 12:08 PM UTC
countryside view
Know throughout as Mohan the enchanter. or even Gopala or Govinda Jagganatha is known as Shri Krishna appeared in Gokul Many legends have been told with skin as Jambul as a jamun And flute music like the song of a bulbul Legends and stories carry on through rasleela, they are known through Krishna Lila, they are showcased but all throughout the king is born His radiance appearance of Jambul skin and a peacock feather or even crown in Tribhanga and his flute with sweets notes of love As a warrior in the battle of Kurukshetra Throughout the Mahabharata, he is known here he shared with Arjuna what is known as the Bhagavad Geeta Hare Krishna Hare Krishna, Krishna Krishna Hare Hare Hare Rama Hare Rama Rama Rama Hare Hare With this, I offer my salutations to you Oh Lord Krishna, Please accept my humble request to thee
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Jul 25, 2018
Jul 25, 2018 at 10:18 AM UTC
My Humble Request To Thee
The engine is killing the track, the track is silver, It stretches into the distance. It will be eaten nevertheless. Its running is useless. At nightfall there is the beauty of drowned fields, Dawn gilds the farmers like pigs, Swaying slightly in their thick suits, White towers of Smithfield ahead, Fat haunches and blood on their minds. There is no mercy in the glitter of cleavers, The butcher's guillotine that whispers: 'How's this, how's this?' In the bowl the hare is aborted, Its baby head out of the way, embalmed in spice, Flayed of fur and humanity. Let us eat it like Plato's afterbirth, Let us eat it like Christ. These are the people that were important ---- Their round eyes, their teeth, their grimaces On a stick that rattles and clicks, a counterfeit snake. Shall the hood of the cobra appall me ---- The loneliness of its eye, the eye of the mountains Through which the sky eternally threads itself? The world is blood-hot and personal Dawn says, with its blood-flush. There is no terminus, only suitcases Out of which the same self unfolds like a suit Bald and shiny, with pockets of wishes, Notions and tickets, short circuits and folding mirrors. I am mad, calls the spider, waving its many arms. And in truth it is terrible, Multiplied in the eyes of the flies. They buzz like blue children In nets of the infinite, Roped in at the end by the one Death with its many sticks.
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6.2k
Totem
THE RETURN OF DUM MAARO DUM ( for Driftwood ) She dances upon her tippy toes upon my toes whirling 'bout the room to DUM MAARO DUM she my little Bollywood queen. "Again...again....again!" she squeals mad with childish delight. Asha sings to us and we...dance! Sunlight throws itself at our feet. We dance upon it. Summer gasps holds its breath. There is nothing but the music....and us! She is all of three screaming: "Bollywood me...Bollywood me!" "This...won't....get the dinner done!" screams Mum above the fun. The record screeches and scratches ...ouch...off! I cut cucumbers into tiny tiny pieces. Tilly washes spinach and lettuce. But when Mum goes to answer the phone it's her best chum she will be hours we sneak Asha back into the kitchen. The return of. . . "Dum maaro dum Mit jaaye gham Bolo subaha shaam Hare Krishna hare Krishna hare Krishna Hare Ram!"
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Jan 20, 2019
Jan 20, 2019 at 2:41 PM UTC
THE RETURN OF DUM MAARO DUM ( for Driftwood )
*Didn't it sound a lot like something He said a long time ago? Now it makes sense Dripping from honey lips* I lowered the box into the ground Empty but only I knew as much Nothing to see, nothing to touch My own heart was buried deeper down Looking up I saw you shed a tear For all I was laying to rest Was to you a memory blessed A short respite, the re-emergence of fear Or maybe I had it wrong You could have known all along I could have been the one deceived Or maybe I only thought you believed Step back She sings the Mantra Let her finish Before we continue *Hare Krishna ¥ Hare Krishna Krishna Krishna ¥ Rama Rama Hare Rama ¥ Hare Rama Rama Rama ¥ Krishna Krishna* I could tell you reasons for what I've done Before the passion flamed I dreamed her naked, unashamed Innocent as the day was young I thought it was love that drove me on Even when the snake bared it's fangs Injected it's venom of change Convinced my compassion was strong Now I know that it can't be forgiven The arrows pierce you from behind Weaker still your weakened mind And contaminate your imagination Stole a page from God's playbook I'm sorry, my old friend, that you fell But I have ****** myself to hell Just one page was all it took *this end is for me even more than it is for you the fog in the forest is still sickly thick and you can't see the forest for the trees I dragged it out for too long but I know your ignorance is blissful and I don't blame you I'd do the same thing if I were in your shoes* It was my own guilt that stopped me cold Made me think twice of what I'd done I know you'd just soon it go on and on (And on and on) But seeing you so often demeaned is getting so very old ••••••••••••• Cry when you hear the song Crying is often the best thing to do Break down for an hour, in the back of your mind Know it gets better when the grieving is through Don't take anything she said for granted She felt she had good advice But you gotta let it work Learn how to pray Build a fortress around your mind Evict the rogue voices *"This is rebirth The hardest word Held under water This is death I'm out of breath Held under water"            - Dustin Carpenter             "Held Under Water"              (big sleep., 1988)*
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Jul 20, 2015
Jul 20, 2015 at 12:54 AM UTC
An Apology of Sorts
*Didn't it sound a lot like something He said a long time ago? Now it makes sense Dripping from honey lips* I lowered the box into the ground Empty but only I knew as much Nothing to see, nothing to touch My own heart was buried deeper down Looking up I saw you shed a tear For all I was laying to rest Was to you a memory blessed A short respite, the re-emergence of fear Or maybe I had it wrong You could have known all along I could have been the one deceived Or maybe I only thought you believed Step back She sings the Mantra Let her finish Before we continue *Hare Krishna ¥ Hare Krishna Krishna Krishna ¥ Rama Rama Hare Rama ¥ Hare Rama Rama Rama ¥ Krishna Krishna* I could tell you reasons for what I've done Before the passion flamed I dreamed her naked, unashamed Innocent as the day was young I thought it was love that drove me on Even when the snake bared it's fangs Injected it's venom of change Convinced my compassion was strong Now I know that it can't be forgiven The arrows pierce you from behind Weaker still your weakened mind And contaminate your imagination Stole a page from God's playbook I'm sorry, my old friend, that you fell But I have ****** myself to hell Just one page was all it took *this end is for me even more than it is for you the fog in the forest is still sickly thick and you can't see the forest for the trees I dragged it out for too long but I know your ignorance is blissful and I don't blame you I'd do the same thing if I were in your shoes* It was my own guilt that stopped me cold Made me think twice of what I'd done I know you'd just soon it go on and on (And on and on) But seeing you so often demeaned is getting so very old ••••••••••••• Cry when you hear the song Crying is often the best thing to do Break down for an hour, in the back of your mind Know it gets better when the grieving is through Don't take anything she said for granted She felt she had good advice But you gotta let it work Learn how to pray Build a fortress around your mind Evict the rogue voices *"This is rebirth The hardest word Held under water This is death I'm out of breath Held under water"            - Dustin Carpenter             "Held Under Water"              (big sleep., 1988)*
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71
Here's a story of the tortoise and the rabbit Petty fights were kind of a habit They couldn't decide who'd get the carrot And so they agreed on racing to the jungle pit. The tortoise made some calls and told the press He said he's sure of winning the race The rabbit sneaked in and asked if he's ready for his pace The tortoise trashed back 'get ready to save your face'. The race kicked off with much fan fare Friends of the tortoise were outnumbered by those of the hare The slow movin buddies were taken aback by the dare Some even shouted 'this aint fair'. The rabbit took off and was out of sight, The tortoise could only take 2 steps which took all his might, He knew he can put up a fight If all that was planned just went right. Miles behind but the tortoise didnt lose hope cursed his legs, wished everything were a downward slope the rabbit on the way came across a pretty doe 'Come in boy' she said 'you could use a cuppa joe'. The rabbit told her he was in a race, She said 'We dont have time, let's get to 3rd base' The tortoise skipped the route and to get ahead Took a bypass through the jungle maze. The rabbit woke up from the one fine stand, The doe confessed she was part of a plan The tortoise could see the finish line ''More than the race, i wanna see the rabbit whine'' With a happy face, the rabbit left her crib Approached the finish line to welcome the press clicks And this is how the story was spun The glory was slow but a deceptive one The tortoise laughed after the race was done Asked him 'how does it feel to be the slower one?' The rabbit said 'I must admit I had much fun' 'Procrastination is in my blood, if i get that I think I've won' There is a point which Aesop missed Just calm down and go with the drift Take what comes with the roll of the dice As for the happy ending - the rabbit got it twice.
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May 22, 2014
May 22, 2014 at 2:39 PM UTC
The Tortoise & The Hare v 2.0
Here's a story of the tortoise and the rabbit Petty fights were kind of a habit They couldn't decide who'd get the carrot And so they agreed on racing to the jungle pit. The tortoise made some calls and told the press He said he's sure of winning the race The rabbit sneaked in and asked if he's ready for his pace The tortoise trashed back 'get ready to save your face'. The race kicked off with much fan fare Friends of the tortoise were outnumbered by those of the hare The slow movin buddies were taken aback by the dare Some even shouted 'this aint fair'. The rabbit took off and was out of sight, The tortoise could only take 2 steps which took all his might, He knew he can put up a fight If all that was planned just went right. Miles behind but the tortoise didnt lose hope cursed his legs, wished everything were a downward slope the rabbit on the way came across a pretty doe 'Come in boy' she said 'you could use a cuppa joe'. The rabbit told her he was in a race, She said 'We dont have time, let's get to 3rd base' The tortoise skipped the route and to get ahead Took a bypass through the jungle maze. The rabbit woke up from the one fine stand, The doe confessed she was part of a plan The tortoise could see the finish line ''More than the race, i wanna see the rabbit whine'' With a happy face, the rabbit left her crib Approached the finish line to welcome the press clicks And this is how the story was spun The glory was slow but a deceptive one The tortoise laughed after the race was done Asked him 'how does it feel to be the slower one?' The rabbit said 'I must admit I had much fun' 'Procrastination is in my blood, if i get that I think I've won' There is a point which Aesop missed Just calm down and go with the drift Take what comes with the roll of the dice As for the happy ending - the rabbit got it twice.
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FOR WHAT ARE WORDS WORTH I wandered lonely through a crowd lost to myself now that I'd lost you gathering even your footsteps peeling your shadow from my wall remembering that lost last kiss did it have to end like this "...beside the lake, beneath the trees.... ...when all at once I saw a...." host of saffroned monks their robes " ...fluttering and dancing in the breeze..." and behind them bunches and bunches  of daffodils outside a florist chanting Hare Krishna in all their yellow voices delighting in their day and for a second I forgot my pain dancing across a zebra crossing with an old old woman and a little yapping dog.
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Aug 6, 2018
Aug 6, 2018 at 3:28 PM UTC
FOR WHAT ARE WORDS WORTH?
For seasons the walled meadow south of the house built of its stone grows up in shepherd's purse and thistles the weeds share April as a secret finches disguised as summer earth click the drying seeds mice run over rags of parchment in August the hare keeps looking up remembering a hidden joy fills the songs of the cicadas two days' rain wakes the green in the pastures crows agree and hawks shriek with naked voices on all sides the dark oak woods leap up and shine the long stony meadow is plowed at last and lies all day bare I consider life after life as treasures oh it is the autumn light that brings everything back in one hand the light again of beginnings the amber appearing as amber
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4.5k
September Plowing
My flights come and go, But the bench records my slouch As I’ve already grown wings.
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Jul 31, 2015
Jul 31, 2015 at 8:33 AM UTC
O'Hare
Hare Krishna's In their Pickups Depressed Comics Down on their Luck Teenage Girls Screaming Meme's ****** Pinko's* Leftward Leaning Vincent Price Flo and Eddie Rodger Rabbit Priscilla Presley Nuns in Habits Dwarf's in Ponchos Deadbeat Dads Munching Nachos Right-Wing Nut Jobs Trading Slogans A few Hero's Including Hogan Are just a few of the sights you see At the front gates of Graceland Memphis, Tennessee Buddhist Monks With Electric Banjos Holding Signs Up Of Marlon Brando Taxi Cabs Blaring Show Tunes Pregnant Women Down-loading Soon Derby Jockeys Flying Monkeys Kool-Aidholics Skittle Junkies Bozo The Clown Bumper Stickers Psychedelic Crazed Toad Lickers Rhinestone Cowboys In their Skivvies Gothic Girls Heebie Jeebies Are just a few of the sights you see At the front gates of Graceland Memphis, Tennessee Blue Haired Granny's In pink Moo Moos Ballerina's In Tattered Tutus Mathematician's Number Crunchers Even have Some Out to Lunchers Model 50's *Do *** Daddies* One More Round Of Flo and Eddie People Sneaking Across the Border Lonely Fry Cooks Taking Orders A Few Wannabes Not Saying Much Will The Real Elvis Please Stand Up Are just a few of the sights that you see At the front gates of Graceland Memphis, Tennessee Thank you...Thank you very Much Ladies and Gentlemen Elvis...Has Left The Building
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Mar 12, 2013
Mar 12, 2013 at 8:59 AM UTC
The Front Gates Of Graceland
There once was a meadow It made me feel mellow So I said hello, From the other side. The side of darkness and despair The carcass of a dead hare I never used to care About the the flowers that were there
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May 24, 2016
May 24, 2016 at 5:03 AM UTC
Dead meadow
Safe from stormy icy cold from stars sheltered too below a wish I am to my captive be all this thou provideth me The ice breaker tows us in sweet lies lavished beneath our skin mothered fathered dear!!! Dear ravaged bitter sweet lovingly deceived tucked into sheets from teddy bear to milky squeezed thigh soothing the life that's oozing **** a doodle screeching out in fright of little egg earnest yearning heeding calling of thee other will spontaneity river spawning No time for times sake Not a one would be mistaken Only the shrunken fear forsaking Run hare run way out out beyond sight of the knowing knowing though scent lingers in the nose of the tortoise and tortoises whom are stalking Run run has gotten far hid from heaven spinning faulty stars heathen tales of yore which simply just keep moving But delight is a wedding cake in a heart you can see taste taste the spin of spinning me Dance too to the rhythms and beatings of sticks ****** quick to the depths of your last breath of the last breathing Our hearts the rhythm Ones soul The beating of skin On our drums
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Jun 10, 2012
Jun 10, 2012 at 11:05 AM UTC
Dubbed Drumming
A cup of tea, a lullaby A winter day spent outside. A warm jumper with frayed edges, A book bound in leather With yellow pages. A love letter and a hand-written message. Coming home late For soup and pie, Outside the full moon Is watching over us. Little snowflakes cover the land, The bare trees sing lullabies. The barn owl, the snow hare, They stay cosy in their beds, and The little birds hide in their nests. As we go home, The wind blows, But we worry not, We know, Soon spring will come along.
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Oct 6, 2022
Oct 6, 2022 at 3:12 PM UTC
A Winter Spell