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"irma" poems
It has been a couple of weeks since the rigor of being McGregor boiled down to nothing, and Mayweather had an Irma of punches ricochet off of him. I recollect this seemingly regular pre-big-match rumor, that the game was arranged. These verdicters pronounced a loss for Conor. If so, Mc. man there took way too many hits for the money. Now that McGregor is left for dead, and verily, Floyd may or may not have added a few more Lamborghinis from the Billion bucks prize !!! Many fortunes have changed. I've fallen deep down into this cemetery where my thoughts lay dead, and from the abyss sprout up a paradox that stands for all fortunes: We all fish in the same waters; if one stirs a ripple, driving the fishes away, another is gifted a school without much labor.
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Sep 15, 2017
Sep 15, 2017 at 8:58 PM UTC
Chains of fortune
I know that while I sleep tonight So many of you may die A heaviness will tuck you in Like a sheet across the sky And together you will cower In every corner you can find Heart beats right in sync with The roaring of your mind Unrelenting punishment From unrelenting rain And just when you think it's over It will return again. With a wind that rips your soul away As pure hell invades your sky, Then hopelessness will take over As your sons and daughters cry. How sickening it is to know That I must sleep here just the same While you wage a war for life Against a storm who earned a name.
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Sep 5, 2017
Sep 5, 2017 at 10:10 PM UTC
Hurricane Irma
365Nectar #8 Crescent City Blues Tues. Oct 1,2013 10:21 P.M. In the deepest attic the thumping blues paint pastel portraits of the Crescent City In burning ripples words slap strangers taking refuge in Armstrong Park Slender, **** and Shorty growl muted tones that ravage old bones whip thru Mid-City and saunter thru the Garden District all just practice to sizzle in a wild tap dance in the Quarter High steppin Indians march toward God and defy gravity. Roaring second line being led by woman powered Pinettes Brass Band hold rush hour traffic hostage for days belting greasy mingling tunes in the eye of the dusty moon A pitch black struggle with the old moon liberated old souls entangled in soaked strings and sobbing fingers A quintet churns and challenges the loneliness of pain Strumming fingers make out with humming strings under a starry blue grey sky Stomping down long black Oak-lined roads blowing thru shotgun homes like winter cold howling lifting heavy weights from shoulders like the sun shifting against bad weather the blues lady open the veins of drunken roses Lungs full of tears Irma holla's, cries, and moans remedies north south east and west of a street called Desire Oh Etta At Last Dim Misty light cast a heavy shadow on wiggling spirits as they cast off pain Allen Toussaint in smokeless blaze tips the night air Kermit blows Dusty blues seducing suffering souls bounding them to each other in bliss Whispering around town in a perfect velvet midnight sweet exhalations of song birds from corner joints dance the Ruffin groove fiery trebles wave at people passing by Down right ***** blues muzzles twilight trombones,tubas, and trumpets lay harmony under the harmonious thunder of the Marsalis Masters and low down deep in a musty sleepless corner is the missing Bass-man.. hung over. Copyright ©2013 Crescent City Blues
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Nov 21, 2013
Nov 21, 2013 at 11:41 PM UTC
Crescent City Blues
365Nectar #8 Crescent City Blues Tues. Oct 1,2013 10:21 P.M. In the deepest attic the thumping blues paint pastel portraits of the Crescent City In burning ripples words slap strangers taking refuge in Armstrong Park Slender, **** and Shorty growl muted tones that ravage old bones whip thru Mid-City and saunter thru the Garden District all just practice to sizzle in a wild tap dance in the Quarter High steppin Indians march toward God and defy gravity. Roaring second line being led by woman powered Pinettes Brass Band hold rush hour traffic hostage for days belting greasy mingling tunes in the eye of the dusty moon A pitch black struggle with the old moon liberated old souls entangled in soaked strings and sobbing fingers A quintet churns and challenges the loneliness of pain Strumming fingers make out with humming strings under a starry blue grey sky Stomping down long black Oak-lined roads blowing thru shotgun homes like winter cold howling lifting heavy weights from shoulders like the sun shifting against bad weather the blues lady open the veins of drunken roses Lungs full of tears Irma holla's, cries, and moans remedies north south east and west of a street called Desire Oh Etta At Last Dim Misty light cast a heavy shadow on wiggling spirits as they cast off pain Allen Toussaint in smokeless blaze tips the night air Kermit blows Dusty blues seducing suffering souls bounding them to each other in bliss Whispering around town in a perfect velvet midnight sweet exhalations of song birds from corner joints dance the Ruffin groove fiery trebles wave at people passing by Down right ***** blues muzzles twilight trombones,tubas, and trumpets lay harmony under the harmonious thunder of the Marsalis Masters and low down deep in a musty sleepless corner is the missing Bass-man.. hung over. Copyright ©2013 Crescent City Blues
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They try to burry your smile when They hear your laughter They try to dim your lights when They see your eyes They try to sorrow your spirit when They see feel your energy They try to get in your head when They see you zen They say things, They make things up They turbenlence your peace when They see you calm Just like Irma before it hit West Palm They do things They cook things up Don't let them steal your lights Don't let them take your spark Don't let them in your head Don't shut your eyes! . .
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Mar 2, 2019
Mar 2, 2019 at 12:34 PM UTC
Don't shut your eyes.
IRMA LÚCIA A tua devoção eterna à Virgem dos *** Aclamam-te anjos com brancos véus. Nasceste tu Lúcia com Coração doce nesta terra, Pediste a Nossa Senhora para nos livrar da Guerra. A santidade te pertence, pois foste escolhida, Amaste Deus toda a vida. Com um amor sem igual, Nasceste no nosso Portugal. Amas com amor e eterna verdade, Cheia de carinho e simplicidade. Viveste sempre no mundo da espiritualidade, Te recordamos sempre com saudade. Victor Marques
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Dec 10, 2009
Dec 10, 2009 at 10:29 PM UTC
Irmã LÚCIA FÁTIMA
I was A little girl Who loved dolls I had a collection Of storybook dolls Some with beautiful dresses. Also a cowgirl, Whose name was Irma. Whenever my grandma Went on a trip, She would return With a special doll, Just for me. One time my dad Stopped at a bar On his way home from work, And the bartender Was a lady Who made a doll With a beautiful crochet dress. Yellow, and full. I was so excited To think that my daddy Would buy me a doll At a bar.... Mom not so happy... My collection grew. The only disadvantage Was Every Saturday morning Before noon I had to take them off my large shelf And dust them... But the advantage Was I listened to Buster Brown, Fibber Magee and Molly, And many other radio shows. But I still hate dusting...
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Jul 20, 2014
Jul 20, 2014 at 7:42 AM UTC
Storybook dolls
The clouds roll in The storm is starting Rain is falling Wind is howling Darkness appears The sun is no longer People flee Animals take shelter Others hunker down Braving the storm 48-72 hours Of a catastrophic storm Hits our country With major damage to be done We pray for you We pray for safety God will shed his light The sun will shine Things will be repaired Life will go on...
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Sep 9, 2017
Sep 9, 2017 at 9:02 AM UTC
Hurricane Irma
They said it was a category five Thank god its roar Turn into a category four Laying waste to many a life Wiping away the property The Caribbean’s sign of liberty From the mishap of Grenada in 1983 10 dead They can still look ahead But the thoughts keep going to Florida But didn’t think Trump kept you in his thoughts did ya Took you a while to get the evacuation through As the political tensions grew And Trump declared it as not good not good The closest you can come to trifling is by saying that Irma isn’t the result of a good mood But enough chitter chatter because there is an SOS on the rise In such a situation climate deniers consider climate change to be the reason as their surmise Rush Limbaugh cannot see the truth Because his face is buried deep in the smoke that will pollute Hurricane Irma I pray the woman in your name understands and leaves the children alone Because there are no sins to atone for if they are orphaned and dead alone They’ll be on the prowl for food and money and liquor and ending up appraising the days that are sunny But funnily anyway they are because you business ******* have increased your influx of money from the disaster stricken many Water, air trips you’ve been taking business studies from **** Cheney
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Sep 10, 2017
Sep 10, 2017 at 2:23 PM UTC
No Hurricane Irma No Shawarma
"what makes you feel empowered?" "i don't know" green spirals filled the gap in our noises i took another drink and made profound eye contact with the ****** mary her frozen, flickering lips asked me questions i couldn't remember the answers to are you feeling paranoid yet? how many times have you been in love? why does walmart sell religious memorabilia at such a reasonable price? i ignored her, as i have since i was seventeen, so i'm sure she was used to it by now i took another drink and smiled as she grabbed my hand and he laughed and she sang and they talked over one another about things that we would forget tomorrow things that seemed crucial to say right now before the moment slipped away i let them talk and tried to absorb everything about this small, dysfunctional powwow that filled my heart to its very brim every part of the circle was so crucial, every word and laugh and sigh and sip so necessary for its completion that i was utterly overwhelmed by my very luck to be alive in a time and place where it existed i've never felt that way before when i walked home, the morning was early and damp and covered in the darkest dark i've ever experienced i saw a candle flickering in a window three stories up like a (relatively speaking) modern day northern star i turned off my flashlight and walked home in silence, basking in the green glow in the wake of fear and love and pain and joy and destruction
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Sep 26, 2017
Sep 26, 2017 at 6:48 PM UTC
irma
i swear because of the logo on my watery blue jeans a hurricane in scala ridotta used the fabrics in a way inspired by irma katrine or maybe florence
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May 30, 2019
May 30, 2019 at 6:41 AM UTC
A logo on my jeans
Just moments after the eye stops staring insatiably at us You can hear the flicking on of all those machines As you walk down the flooded streets so slow The violinists pull the strings, and on they go One to the left of us, three to the right Two in front of us, and none to the behind The conductors swing their arms The symphony clangs, alarms Lighting up the homes and the tv screens Chilling the musicians, and the shaky beams Walk around some more, you'll hear one hit a low C While you slosh through the street's home sea
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Sep 21, 2017
Sep 21, 2017 at 9:59 AM UTC
Symphony of Generators (An Irma Poem)
Irma I wish I were a sorceress. I’m surely not a scientist. Just a reader Of the leaders in the news. North Korea, Harvey, rockets Boston Red Sox in the dockets Charged with using Apple watches to steal signs. Violence, hurricanes, Cheating: Why? This is too, too crazy. Are these phases Showing us, Going towards A monster breakdown? Skirmishes To Irma! Flesh will go. Insect, bird, yes, every minnow. Families child-less, widowed; Dis-endowed the moneyed crowd, Castle, mansion, slum will go. Marshes all will overflow. (and we thought Bangladesh was low) The planet’s being bashed, Yet there are people who cash in on it. Prayer will never be the answer. Cancer from our own behavior. Karma’s germ: Now it’s Irma. Irma 9.6.2017 Our Times, Out Culture II; Circling Round Nature II; Arlene Corwin
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Sep 6, 2017
Sep 6, 2017 at 8:47 AM UTC
Irma
A Conversion Experience at the Bright Light Free Will Four Square Full Gospel Missionary Temple Outreach of the Lord Jesus Christ 501C3 of the Lamb Ministries the Reverend Doctor Master Bishop Apostle Brother Billy-Bob Hairdo and His Honored First Lady Disciple Irma-Mae a-Brangin’ Messages and a-Suckin’ in Government Grant Money Here is a list of the thangs we is aginner If you do any of this stuff, yew air a sinner Th’ Lord accepts all major credit cards for His work*
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Dec 6, 2018
Dec 6, 2018 at 3:36 PM UTC
A Conversion Experience...
The fugitives invaded me in the sixties series somewhere on TV, one armed bandits one eyed half wits we watched it all Janssen Thinnes and that lot on the bins for a touch of class. Alf Garnett he could be a gas and Irma down the Street with her coronation chicken feet. Taken over one channel at a time sublime? Well it was all in Black and White, so we could tell the day from night, but not real life you understand just pictures on a screen now repeated though I have seen them all before I watch again I so adore **** York Samantha, wiggling her nose Bouquets of barbed wire tied to a rose. Top cat smarter than Kojak and the Flintstones in their dream homes down in Bedrock. Knock me up some dreams to dream and I'll scream ****** Norman Bates Hitchcock laughed at those blind dates. Niven Cribbens Poppins moons and balloons and railway children who'll then tell me where it went then? Standing for the Anthem, auntie Beeb and then some chips and curry sauce of course it's how we rolled in Lancashire
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Apr 26, 2016
Apr 26, 2016 at 4:18 PM UTC
Camera obscura
Stuck. Once again stuck between four walls. Darkness. It rolls in slowly and uninvited. Anger. Not yet hatred but consuming. Air. Trying to breath and although alive, unsuccesseding. Peace. Searching searching deep within my soul. Devil. Playing games calling out to play. God; Trying to fortify strength and wisdom in the mind. Sanity. Slowly going out the more that I want to be in. Death.                 Life.                       Hope. Relaxation       unpromising       torture
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Sep 26, 2017
Sep 26, 2017 at 10:47 PM UTC
Hurricane Irma.
an early teen, flaxen-haired and bird blue eyes left me unworldly, adrift in her luscious thighs she calmed my heart with her quiet beauty i was untested, unknown, a teen too, her name was... Judy how that first flight transformed a journey to a commission laying seed to what became a life's mission now with a long view back to then i recount it all with a discerning ken came Carol, Irma, Susans many, Shelley, Jane, Jean, more Judy, Carmen, Bonnie, Maddy, Tanya, Melanie, Beth, Elizabeth, Lizzy, Linda, Anita, Lisa, Virginia, Nancy, and on and on and on if this troubles your mind please read no more and judge me not with feminist angst or "what a bore" i say just how things were in the past times were hot... love and lust traveled fast for those who know, from whence I speak this is not fiction, but a wiki leak simple recollections that tickles the mind of robust ramblings... forgotten, but not left behind
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Sep 3, 2016
Sep 3, 2016 at 10:47 AM UTC
so much, so many?
California is burning Texas is drowning Florida is shaking Harvey, Irma and Maria came visiting Mexico is trembling Bangladesh and Dominicans are swimming Columbia is digging its way out Sierra Leone is joining Burma is cleansing Arabia closed its borders Qatar is not good enough Yemen is restless Manchester is recovering London is divorcing Syria is still weeping Palestine is homeless Egypt is struggling Lebanon is trading Humans as currency Boko Haram is spreading The world is suffering Empathy is needed Humanity is important Why did we become so indifferent?
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Dec 9, 2017
Dec 9, 2017 at 8:49 PM UTC
2017
The wind, it blows With great speed It mows Down houses and homes To the degree, unknown Lives lost in its wake Crumbled buildings, Can wait Lives lost, lives lost Total destruction Devastating Flood waters Not done taking Floating cars Shipwrecked boats Start anew! Heard someone shout Memories and furniture In the neighbors yard Trees uprooted from the ground No power near or far These times when Mother Nature Stirs up so many lives We will rebuild ourselves Its just a matter of time
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Sep 13, 2017
Sep 13, 2017 at 2:53 AM UTC
Irma part 2
Esto es un poema. Aquí está permitido fijar carteles, tirar escombros, hacer aguas y escribir frases como: Marica el que lo lea, Amo a Irma, Muera el…(silencio), Arena gratis, Asesinos, etcétera. Esto es un poema. Mantén sucia la estrofa. Escupe dentro. Responsable la tarde que no acaba, el tedio de este día, la indeformable estolidez del tiempo.
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400
Contra-orden. (poética
Lord Jesus Christ, we could do nothing unless we stay attached to your vine...Fill us with a great portion of your sustaining power. Further, let the Holy spirit be are guide to really take heed to your saving message of grace. There are people tonight in harms way with Hurricane Irma coming through Florida. Many of are relatives live in that state dear Lord. Give then sustaining presence of your power Lord Jesus, Pray for family, friends & loved ones out searching for truth tonight. Give us a clear vision of your guiding presence. We ask that those who do not know you Lord. Maybe filled with a great sense of need. To come to a knowledge that's greater then self. Fill are hearts with your tender joy & promises. In Jesus Christ Name, Amen
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Sep 7, 2017
Sep 7, 2017 at 8:19 PM UTC
A Need For Jesus Christ
Appreciation amidst Irma© After watching Irma terrorize Florida and the Caribbean This is what appreciation looks like I appreciate that: I have hydro with which to make my morning coffee That the roof is still on my home The car I drive is on four wheels and not on its side There is a place to jog this morning free of debris The roads to get to work are safe and passable My job is waiting for me at its usual place and time The basement is high and dry The bus will arrive to take the kids to school And it is not a wading pool There is no search and rescue Nor a curfew No evidence of a storm Well rested after a night in bed No howling winds and banging instead Hunkered down in the dark would not have been a lark Thank goodness for the early warning system The many helping hands So many agencies to heed the call Standing up against the wall of flood Thank you to all the brave souls Who were out on patrols We appreciate that which we have And a speedy recovery for those that have loss Of any kind Andreas Simic©
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Sep 11, 2017
Sep 11, 2017 at 1:08 PM UTC
Appreciation amidst Irma
All you do All you say All you write In the jasmine garden Is a frenzied drum Bludgeoning me to dumb Intensely numb I feel As I reel Yes As you come Rising on tides Passion overflowing Deluge in the veins In a hurricane You dominate You violate You annihilate My stability My balance My tranquility My nonchalance You seek to Sweep me off my feet I resist To be devastatingly kissed Who does want A plundered restaurant I hold breath But you hit underneath With your tremendous vigour A wild rigour Breaking all norm Of rhythm and form You become The fierce Atlantic storm From head to toe Fast or slow Everything you claim You monster hurricane In a primitive joy You destroy Spears and arrows you employ Pull down and enjoy In a poor coordination I reach my limitation And surrender Before your violence And horror Frantically you tear All the roses there The tendrils of hair The hymns of prayer Whether in Florida Or in Miami Riding on reckless liberty Everywhere the same misery Either Katrina or Irene Harvey or Irma The same surging ocean The same commotion You flood me with I groan beneath I have to writhe And wriggle as fiercely you breathe Well now as you are quieted Having deconstructed All my emotions Are now back to the ocean Give me your resilience The ocean’s brilliance Let me reconstruct and create My new cup and chocolate My balance In the new circumstance In future if you need to come Come with tribal drum Played by striking with sticks In the nerves crimson kicks Come in drizzling ice and gentle rains Not in tornadoes and hurricanes Please …
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Sep 14, 2017
Sep 14, 2017 at 8:11 AM UTC
Hurricanes
All you do All you say All you write In the jasmine garden Is a frenzied drum Bludgeoning me to dumb Intensely numb I feel As I reel Yes As you come Rising on tides Passion overflowing Deluge in the veins In a hurricane You dominate You violate You annihilate My stability My balance My tranquility My nonchalance You seek to Sweep me off my feet I resist To be devastatingly kissed Who does want A plundered restaurant I hold breath But you hit underneath With your tremendous vigour A wild rigour Breaking all norm Of rhythm and form You become The fierce Atlantic storm From head to toe Fast or slow Everything you claim You monster hurricane In a primitive joy You destroy Spears and arrows you employ Pull down and enjoy In a poor coordination I reach my limitation And surrender Before your violence And horror Frantically you tear All the roses there The tendrils of hair The hymns of prayer Whether in Florida Or in Miami Riding on reckless liberty Everywhere the same misery Either Katrina or Irene Harvey or Irma The same surging ocean The same commotion You flood me with I groan beneath I have to writhe And wriggle as fiercely you breathe Well now as you are quieted Having deconstructed All my emotions Are now back to the ocean Give me your resilience The ocean’s brilliance Let me reconstruct and create My new cup and chocolate My balance In the new circumstance In future if you need to come Come with tribal drum Played by striking with sticks In the nerves crimson kicks Come in drizzling ice and gentle rains Not in tornadoes and hurricanes Please …
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