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"jeweler" poems
Jesus looks so ruby red, dead and your purring wracks some embryo to life, gave it a foreign ring – hand-tested gold or diamond surfaced from oceans: or not, no. No, it is just a mirror and you are what makes it look so beautiful, breathing sea-salt and gasoline – one perfect drop found a well and down, down, down it fell. I caught ants, I smashed in their hissing heads. Yes, yes, so red. God would be proud of the mystery you and I have kept. We drag him along like a light, lantern bleaching flame, but as soon as the sun hits, he, too, drops into a haze – and lands cross-legged, think? There is a jeweler up there that makes his ankles shine, they are bolder than the moon cousin of his best side, as you are mine. Mine, some sort of wordly delight – bravery, diamond, and be alive.
0
Dec 4, 2012
Dec 4, 2012 at 9:35 PM UTC
diamond
The metal in this brass knuckle heart punches my chest from the inside out The valves, a semiconductor for the static electricity of your touch Who ever thought a defibrillator could be so soft? And in the challenge of this love I wonder what kind of mettle you're thinking of now And I think patience is found on a molecular level inside the iron in your blood And love then, a stone ground down from your ashes I mean, pressure and heat are what diamonds are made from Tell me again of the struggles you shone through And through that logic, we are precious stones but so much softer than that I want to hold you like the focused light from a jeweler trying to make a sale but so much more earnest than that And what of the contradiction between hardness and softness Because there is you How can you be so hard and so full of life? How can you be so beautiful?
0
Dec 29, 2014
Dec 29, 2014 at 6:42 PM UTC
Drunk Poem number 86: Christmas at 1 AM
You, my old companion, I’ve junked three trucks and still I keep you. Buried five dogs. Raised three children who are now raising children. And still I wear you. You jingle when I walk. Nails clink in pouches. The drill in its holster slaps my leg. The hammer in its clip spanks my **** You bristle with screwdrivers, chisel, big fat pencil, needlenose plier. You call attention. Random kids who have never seen a tool belt before follow me around asking “What are you doing?” Then: “Can I help?” You smell like me (and I, like you). Leather, fourth decade. I’ve washed your pouches with saddle soap, sewn your seams with dental floss. Now the web of your belt is fraying, wrapped (silly, I know) with duct tape. Your pockets fill over time. Once in a while I remove every tool, every last ***** and nail. I hold you upside down and shake. Sawdust, a dead spider, little strippings of insulated wire will fall out. And once, my missing wedding ring. It had broken. I had taken it to a jeweler for repair, but when I got there I couldn’t find it. A year later, you coughed it up. When your webbing finally snaps, when you drop from my waist, maybe it’s you, old tool belt, I’ll take to the jeweler for remounting, for buff and polish. He’ll understand.
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Mar 30, 2017
Mar 30, 2017 at 8:23 PM UTC
Ode to a Leather Tool Belt
My reader, looking at the ring, have ever you been caught On efforts, spent to make it, sudden flashing thought? About sifting through waste rock to find the rare gem Where mother-nature hided it from curiousity of men. About jeweler's stone cutting skillful labor duty To grind the gem, exposing all it brilliance and beauty? About ring design, embodying stone in golden artful frame Creating masterpiece to glorify forever craftsman's name? Likewise, in poetry, the sense of being attempting to extract, Bard feelings puts in words to shows time's connection act.
0
May 5, 2016
May 5, 2016 at 10:39 AM UTC
Ring with a precious stone
People wonder, how can Christ, be all things to everyone? Without the proper perspective, Truth can be missed. So carefully consider some ideas presented here, before these spiritual concepts are mistakenly dismissed. To the BUILDER, Christ is the Sure Foundation. To the ARCHITECT, He is the Chief Corner Stone. To the GEOLOGIST, He is the Rock of Ages. To the SCULPTOR, He is the Living Stone. To the STUDENT, Christ is the Incarnate Truth. To the PHILOSOPHER, He is the Wisdom of God. To the BANKER, He is the Hidden Treasure. To the PREACHER, He is the Word of God. To the DOCTOR, Christ is the Great Physician. To the SERVANT, He is the Good Master. To the THEOLOGIAN, He is the Author of our Faith. To the EDUCATOR, He is the Great Teacher. To the JEWELER, Christ is the Pearl of Great Price. To the ARTIST, He is the One Altogether Lovely. To the HORTICULTURIST, He is the True Vine. To the FLORIST, He is the Lily of the Valley. To the STATESMAN, Christ is the Desire of all Nations. To the CARPENTER, He is the Eternal Door. To the PHILANTHROPIST, He is the Unspeakable Gift. To the LAWYER, He is the Lawgiver, Advocate and Counselor. To the BIOLOGIST, Christ is the Life. To the ENGINEER, He is the New and Living Way. To the TOILER, He is the Giver of Rest. To the SINNER, He is the Lamb Who takes all sin away. Our Christ is a multi-faceted personality, Who has something for everyone who comes to Him. Therefore, we should continue to rejoice in Who He is, by offering heart-felt praise through songs and hymns. Author notes Loosely based on: Col 1:15-18; 2 Tim 2:19; Eph 2:20; Isa 26:4; 1 Pet 2:4-12; Matt 28:20; Cor 1:24; John 1:1; Heb 12:2; Jer 17:14; Matt 19:16-17; John 1:3; Matt 16:13-17; John 3:1-2; Matt 13:45; John 15:1; SoS 2:1; Hag 2:7; John 10:7; Cor 9:15; James 4:12; 1 John 2:1-2; Isa 9:6-7; John 14:6; Heb 3:1-4:13; John 1:29 By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2012, All rights reserved. This poem is not meant to serve as an all encompassing list of professions; for example, here are a few more viewpoints not mentioned: To the BAKER, He is the Living Bread. To the JUDGE, He is the Righteous Judge of all Men. To the NEWSPAPER, He is the Good Tidings of Great Joy. To the OCULIST, He is the Light of the Eyes. To the SOLDIER, He is the fortress. To the CHRISTIAN, He is the Son of the Living God, the Savior, the Redeemer and the Lord.
0
May 9, 2013
May 9, 2013 at 8:39 AM UTC
Poem: Christ Is...
People wonder, how can Christ, be all things to everyone? Without the proper perspective, Truth can be missed. So carefully consider some ideas presented here, before these spiritual concepts are mistakenly dismissed. To the BUILDER, Christ is the Sure Foundation. To the ARCHITECT, He is the Chief Corner Stone. To the GEOLOGIST, He is the Rock of Ages. To the SCULPTOR, He is the Living Stone. To the STUDENT, Christ is the Incarnate Truth. To the PHILOSOPHER, He is the Wisdom of God. To the BANKER, He is the Hidden Treasure. To the PREACHER, He is the Word of God. To the DOCTOR, Christ is the Great Physician. To the SERVANT, He is the Good Master. To the THEOLOGIAN, He is the Author of our Faith. To the EDUCATOR, He is the Great Teacher. To the JEWELER, Christ is the Pearl of Great Price. To the ARTIST, He is the One Altogether Lovely. To the HORTICULTURIST, He is the True Vine. To the FLORIST, He is the Lily of the Valley. To the STATESMAN, Christ is the Desire of all Nations. To the CARPENTER, He is the Eternal Door. To the PHILANTHROPIST, He is the Unspeakable Gift. To the LAWYER, He is the Lawgiver, Advocate and Counselor. To the BIOLOGIST, Christ is the Life. To the ENGINEER, He is the New and Living Way. To the TOILER, He is the Giver of Rest. To the SINNER, He is the Lamb Who takes all sin away. Our Christ is a multi-faceted personality, Who has something for everyone who comes to Him. Therefore, we should continue to rejoice in Who He is, by offering heart-felt praise through songs and hymns. Author notes Loosely based on: Col 1:15-18; 2 Tim 2:19; Eph 2:20; Isa 26:4; 1 Pet 2:4-12; Matt 28:20; Cor 1:24; John 1:1; Heb 12:2; Jer 17:14; Matt 19:16-17; John 1:3; Matt 16:13-17; John 3:1-2; Matt 13:45; John 15:1; SoS 2:1; Hag 2:7; John 10:7; Cor 9:15; James 4:12; 1 John 2:1-2; Isa 9:6-7; John 14:6; Heb 3:1-4:13; John 1:29 By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2012, All rights reserved. This poem is not meant to serve as an all encompassing list of professions; for example, here are a few more viewpoints not mentioned: To the BAKER, He is the Living Bread. To the JUDGE, He is the Righteous Judge of all Men. To the NEWSPAPER, He is the Good Tidings of Great Joy. To the OCULIST, He is the Light of the Eyes. To the SOLDIER, He is the fortress. To the CHRISTIAN, He is the Son of the Living God, the Savior, the Redeemer and the Lord.
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47
The simplest word is hard to say once blood has leaked within the brain. The internal fires of life have died, though the exterior seems the same. He struggles saying yes or no, He suffers visibly with pain. His family, sadly, watches on As the patriarch plays his endgame Its like a cosmic jeweler tried, To make a brilliant diamond cut; If successful, it would have shone- But he missed his mark and marred the stone
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Dec 23, 2011
Dec 23, 2011 at 10:30 PM UTC
Stroke
when I die I'd like my ashes to be made into a diamond. that way when the jeweler shapes it and sets it in a pretty ring for my beloved's grandchildren/descendants that will be a better rendition of me, a properly shaped, smoothed and polished human-that-was. I like to think all the bad qualities I know I possess would be pared down to a socially acceptable version of me that you would, finally, be proud of.
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Jun 16, 2015
Jun 16, 2015 at 1:34 PM UTC
Crystalline Memento
IN a jeweler's shop I saw a man beating out thin sheets of gold. I heard a woman laugh many years ago. Under a peach tree I saw petals scattered .. torn strips of a bride's dress. I heard a woman laugh many years ago.
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1.2k
Thin Strips
I notice that the hair is gone so did the frog. I can help to hold the tears back I know its all my fault the cigarette stains on my fingers are back I washed you the dishes and put them on the rack. you wanted a full commitment and I failed. You cried you eyes dry I ran and ran and ran. i didn't know it was this bad I ran and I ran. I'm horrible at this poetry and I read yours just now you deserve that colata ring that i saw at jeweler you should know that my heart will never mend If I had one more Chance I would never let go I would consider it sacred all the way to the end. I lay here on the floor no bed nesscisary im afraid to get up it just to scary you say that I'm so smart I think im so dumb maybe just I drink or hit or just one until it all goes numb. If you were able to come back we could build a snowman And I would be a real man. Ok......byeeeeee
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May 29, 2014
May 29, 2014 at 3:12 AM UTC
do you want to build a snowman
Let’s make this our night. Let’s kick our good habits and grow our bad ones in neat rows of dandelions and ponder what marks **** from flower. Let's fill a jar with memories and dash it against the ground when it's full so we can play with them once more. Let’s empty our brains like a register full of quarters chase them along the pavement and roll them into neat piles to trade for pennies. Let’s cut holes in our pockets and fill them with time until the last echo of a tick splits our emptied skulls and drains out the nothing. Let's rob a jeweler and give diamonds to the homeless. Their babbles are endless and they've earned something for that. Let's ink our pens with the clouds and write odes to the sea where they meet and watch them turn orange then red then purple then black then dissipate with wind. Let's read tea leaves and palms like books written by wise old men with wide smiles and wider minds. Let's blow out the city lights, dance with the stars, and apologize profusely for stepping on their toes. Let's wash our hands with acid and leave empty fingerprints on likewise glasses staining breathless lovers' heaving antipathy Let's play to lose and throw the pieces about the floor when our plan goes awry, smiling. Let's slowdance to anachronisms while the ether whispers around and between us and through us, until it settles in us. Let's watch the clouds from atop a sinking city and marvel at how the water's lovely this time of year. Let's fall in love and drown together in whichever order the universe decides. Let's make this our night It may be our last.
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Nov 22, 2010
Nov 22, 2010 at 3:17 PM UTC
For Pennies.
Let’s make this our night. Let’s kick our good habits and grow our bad ones in neat rows of dandelions and ponder what marks **** from flower. Let's fill a jar with memories and dash it against the ground when it's full so we can play with them once more. Let’s empty our brains like a register full of quarters chase them along the pavement and roll them into neat piles to trade for pennies. Let’s cut holes in our pockets and fill them with time until the last echo of a tick splits our emptied skulls and drains out the nothing. Let's rob a jeweler and give diamonds to the homeless. Their babbles are endless and they've earned something for that. Let's ink our pens with the clouds and write odes to the sea where they meet and watch them turn orange then red then purple then black then dissipate with wind. Let's read tea leaves and palms like books written by wise old men with wide smiles and wider minds. Let's blow out the city lights, dance with the stars, and apologize profusely for stepping on their toes. Let's wash our hands with acid and leave empty fingerprints on likewise glasses staining breathless lovers' heaving antipathy Let's play to lose and throw the pieces about the floor when our plan goes awry, smiling. Let's slowdance to anachronisms while the ether whispers around and between us and through us, until it settles in us. Let's watch the clouds from atop a sinking city and marvel at how the water's lovely this time of year. Let's fall in love and drown together in whichever order the universe decides. Let's make this our night It may be our last.
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60
The hat he wore with ease Indoors and onstage The raspy baritone, the sage The jeweler with words That sparkled in our minds The smiling cynic The optimist at times Brave, uncompromising Knowing it would soon end We wanted it darker He knew we did So he gave it to us straight Our rhyming friend I've been to Hydra Stood outside his home It's a simple place Where cars do not roam I breathed the same air Marveled at the deep blue sea I was drawn there by his spirit By his poetry And now he's gone We shall carry on today We have to He would have wanted it this way And we will surely miss him For us, he does pray.
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Nov 12, 2016
Nov 12, 2016 at 12:22 AM UTC
Leonard Cohen
Walking, talking, eating, One lover only baking, hum waking- up Is anyone good at loving? Always giving metals The modern love robot ((ATM))   machine There is no place Oh! Yes Lend me all lovers at my home The ((OZ)) fame Artsy Auntie (EM) so lame Listening to (REM) Headrush Makeup blush also *** in-between My break up___ My lunch hour All over again throwing cash way off the street look out I almost crashed____ That Casanova racer slim reducer My ((ATM)) Sexter machine Pixstar diet Laughing to the bank You are better But in the least seeing Her for what she is The beauty she is making up the beast He is the Eight personalities Burnt money Miss French fries Baby blue eyes cry My cash went dry Henry the eighth The love affair in September Goth Just recently shot Lord of the rings Be sure you don't get the blues She-devil jeweler Saphire I got rushed She fires out!! She Forgets ** The finest champagne candles On the tenth Cash reminder rush I cannot recall how I got here? I will be back for the cash!! That gave her Total recall Over there someone left more cash Someone overloaded trash What cash potential her  best clothes He looked like moon dancer Jacksons five black glove Casanova the best climate For Cash Australian mate Jumping Jack Flash You cant always get what you want But if you try sometimes You might get what you need Don't rush your life away With that Casanova Don't rush your stars of the Nova Scotia
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May 16, 2018
May 16, 2018 at 2:30 PM UTC
Cash Rush Casanova
I am abrasively myself forever and always I come off as an awkward, perverted, introverted lady I tend to overthink everything anyone ever says to me I am heavily affected by things other people aren’t I put deep meanings on things I shouldn’t I believe every word of my horoscope to give myself a little hope for the day I cling to my remaining friends with all of my strength because I am already lonely enough I am a hopeless romantic but pretend I’m not cause I gotta keep up my reputation I have a reputation for being hard to talk to but easy to get into I want someone to love me so sometimes I believe if they get into me they’ll love me then I know that is a stupid idea but I just can’t help thinking it because its called making love right I get angry very quickly if people don’t reciprocate my friendship at the same level I give it I tend to ride a tidal wave called depression that has its ups and downs I plead with my head every day that I don’t go under and drown I hate hurting someone’s feelings even if by accident I will never forgive myself I don’t care if you hurt my feelings at all I have my walls built up so don’t worry I have compassion flying out of my chest for even the most spoiled rotten people I will take a bullet for a stranger if given the chance because they deserve to live I don’t know if I deserve to live though sometimes I truly wonder I still miss the people whose friendships I have lost even if it was years ago I believe every human being is good despite their obliviousness and their selfishness I do my best to help my single mother even when she doesn’t see it I love my little sister like my own child and I take care of her like it I have passion for everything I do from my job to just being in school I grew up way too fast and I get angry because no one can understand how I think I guess its because I have no father and try to take care of my mother and myself I think I may be one of the only kids who do that I was not born into a wealthy family my mother is a grocer and my father was a jeweler I have more pride for my parents than kids whose parents are CEO’s and business people I believe I have learned more about being a good person than people who are handed it all I would rather die than do nothing with my life I could never live with myself if I didn’t put others before me And I wouldn’t want it any other way.
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Oct 7, 2014
Oct 7, 2014 at 8:50 PM UTC
Things I Learned About Myself By 17
I am abrasively myself forever and always I come off as an awkward, perverted, introverted lady I tend to overthink everything anyone ever says to me I am heavily affected by things other people aren’t I put deep meanings on things I shouldn’t I believe every word of my horoscope to give myself a little hope for the day I cling to my remaining friends with all of my strength because I am already lonely enough I am a hopeless romantic but pretend I’m not cause I gotta keep up my reputation I have a reputation for being hard to talk to but easy to get into I want someone to love me so sometimes I believe if they get into me they’ll love me then I know that is a stupid idea but I just can’t help thinking it because its called making love right I get angry very quickly if people don’t reciprocate my friendship at the same level I give it I tend to ride a tidal wave called depression that has its ups and downs I plead with my head every day that I don’t go under and drown I hate hurting someone’s feelings even if by accident I will never forgive myself I don’t care if you hurt my feelings at all I have my walls built up so don’t worry I have compassion flying out of my chest for even the most spoiled rotten people I will take a bullet for a stranger if given the chance because they deserve to live I don’t know if I deserve to live though sometimes I truly wonder I still miss the people whose friendships I have lost even if it was years ago I believe every human being is good despite their obliviousness and their selfishness I do my best to help my single mother even when she doesn’t see it I love my little sister like my own child and I take care of her like it I have passion for everything I do from my job to just being in school I grew up way too fast and I get angry because no one can understand how I think I guess its because I have no father and try to take care of my mother and myself I think I may be one of the only kids who do that I was not born into a wealthy family my mother is a grocer and my father was a jeweler I have more pride for my parents than kids whose parents are CEO’s and business people I believe I have learned more about being a good person than people who are handed it all I would rather die than do nothing with my life I could never live with myself if I didn’t put others before me And I wouldn’t want it any other way.
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33
WAKING UP, OPENING AND RUBBING THE SLEEP FROM MY EYES, AND LOOK OVER TO MAKE SURE SHE’S STILL THERE AND YES YOU ARE TO MY SURPRISE. THE MEMORIES START TO COME UP LIKE PREVIEWS OF A MOVIE, YOU MOVE A LIL AND I COULD TELL THAT, MY LOVE IS STILL SLEEPY. I REMEMBER THE FIRST DAY WE MET, SHE LOOK AT ME AND SMILED; NOT KNOWING IT WAS THE BEGINNING OF MY DEMISE. I TRIED TO PLAY IT COOL AND NOT LET HER KNOW THERE WAS SINGING IN MY HEART, I GOT TO TALK TO HER, I GOT TO HEAR HER VOICE, I CAN’T LET THIS FEELING GO, I GOT DO THIS SMART. SO I WALKED UP TO HER TRYING NOT TO MAKE MYSELF LOOK A FOOL. PLAYED IT MY MIND, BUT I JUST ASK AND PLAYED IT COOL. AND EVER SINCE, A SMILE HAS BEEN IMPLANTED, MY WORLD HAS SLOWED DOWN, NOT SO FRANTIC. THAT’S RIGHT, LOL, WE’RE CRUISING AT THE RIGHT PACE, AND THE BETTER WE HAVE GOT TO KNOW EACH OTHER, IT FELT YOU WERE IN THE RIGHT PLACE. I CAN’T BELIEVE GOD LET AN ANGEL DOWN FROM HEAVEN TO BE BY MY SIDE, AND BECAUSE OF YOU I HAVE BECOME EVEN MORE HUMBLED AND FULL OF PRIDE. NO EYELINER, LIPSTICK, OR BLUSH. I KNOW I LOVE HER; THIS IS MORE THN SOME JR. HIGH CRUSH. SO, TO COMPLETE THEMY FAMILY PUZZLE, I STOP BY JEWELER AND A FLORIST FOR WHITE ROSES; “TWO DOZEN!” SO I CALL YOU AND SAY, “HEY LOVE, HOW WAS YOUR DAY? I MUST SEE YOU.” SHE SAYS, “HEY BABE, HEARING YOUR VOICE JUST MADE IT GREAT. SURE!” SHE HAS NO CLUE. I APPROACH HER WITH CONFIDENCE IN MY HEART AND MY STOMACH HAD BUTTERFLIES, BUT I KNEW THIS IS THE MOMENT, SO I CROSS ALL THE T’S AND DOT ALL THE I’S SO I KISSED HER AND GAVE HER THE ROSES; SHE STILL DON’T KNOW I’M ABOUT TO PROPOSE. EVERYTHING BECAME TOTALLY STILL AND STARS WERE SO BRIGHT, IT WAS THE PERFECT SUMMER NIGHT. AS I GET DOWN ON MY KNEE WITH TEARS FORMING IN MY EYES, “AS I LOOK UP TO YOU AND GOD, PLEASE SHARE MY LIFE?” “PLEASE BE MY BETTER HALF, MY SIGNIFICANT OTHER………………………………………….MY WIFE.”
0
Jul 14, 2011
Jul 14, 2011 at 6:48 AM UTC
MI AMOR
WAKING UP, OPENING AND RUBBING THE SLEEP FROM MY EYES, AND LOOK OVER TO MAKE SURE SHE’S STILL THERE AND YES YOU ARE TO MY SURPRISE. THE MEMORIES START TO COME UP LIKE PREVIEWS OF A MOVIE, YOU MOVE A LIL AND I COULD TELL THAT, MY LOVE IS STILL SLEEPY. I REMEMBER THE FIRST DAY WE MET, SHE LOOK AT ME AND SMILED; NOT KNOWING IT WAS THE BEGINNING OF MY DEMISE. I TRIED TO PLAY IT COOL AND NOT LET HER KNOW THERE WAS SINGING IN MY HEART, I GOT TO TALK TO HER, I GOT TO HEAR HER VOICE, I CAN’T LET THIS FEELING GO, I GOT DO THIS SMART. SO I WALKED UP TO HER TRYING NOT TO MAKE MYSELF LOOK A FOOL. PLAYED IT MY MIND, BUT I JUST ASK AND PLAYED IT COOL. AND EVER SINCE, A SMILE HAS BEEN IMPLANTED, MY WORLD HAS SLOWED DOWN, NOT SO FRANTIC. THAT’S RIGHT, LOL, WE’RE CRUISING AT THE RIGHT PACE, AND THE BETTER WE HAVE GOT TO KNOW EACH OTHER, IT FELT YOU WERE IN THE RIGHT PLACE. I CAN’T BELIEVE GOD LET AN ANGEL DOWN FROM HEAVEN TO BE BY MY SIDE, AND BECAUSE OF YOU I HAVE BECOME EVEN MORE HUMBLED AND FULL OF PRIDE. NO EYELINER, LIPSTICK, OR BLUSH. I KNOW I LOVE HER; THIS IS MORE THN SOME JR. HIGH CRUSH. SO, TO COMPLETE THEMY FAMILY PUZZLE, I STOP BY JEWELER AND A FLORIST FOR WHITE ROSES; “TWO DOZEN!” SO I CALL YOU AND SAY, “HEY LOVE, HOW WAS YOUR DAY? I MUST SEE YOU.” SHE SAYS, “HEY BABE, HEARING YOUR VOICE JUST MADE IT GREAT. SURE!” SHE HAS NO CLUE. I APPROACH HER WITH CONFIDENCE IN MY HEART AND MY STOMACH HAD BUTTERFLIES, BUT I KNEW THIS IS THE MOMENT, SO I CROSS ALL THE T’S AND DOT ALL THE I’S SO I KISSED HER AND GAVE HER THE ROSES; SHE STILL DON’T KNOW I’M ABOUT TO PROPOSE. EVERYTHING BECAME TOTALLY STILL AND STARS WERE SO BRIGHT, IT WAS THE PERFECT SUMMER NIGHT. AS I GET DOWN ON MY KNEE WITH TEARS FORMING IN MY EYES, “AS I LOOK UP TO YOU AND GOD, PLEASE SHARE MY LIFE?” “PLEASE BE MY BETTER HALF, MY SIGNIFICANT OTHER………………………………………….MY WIFE.”
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30
There exists a monster Called The Jeweler. Everything she sees has A price tag attached With a superficial value Stamped on. The lenses placed over her Since the day she was born Have corrupted all purity. Forever complimented on Appearances and mocked for thought, She believes herself to be Perfectly normal Judging every living creature For beauty and value. Stars in the sky are meaningless Like the grades from school, She only wants materials For improving her station. From the boy down the street To the Prada bag in hand, Nothing worthwhile is free. The only pleasure she knows Is derived from an illusion Of being a princess. She is cold and calculating, Countless crushed hearts Have been left behind her And she smiles fondly At every tear she extracted. Tragedy is her destiny Do we blame the product Or the ****** up society Producing more daily? The disheartening truth is She The Jeweler exists Inside of everyone of us From you to me and beyond. So who the **** do we lay The blame on? The society or the product? The society or the product? ******* answer me!
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Jun 5, 2013
Jun 5, 2013 at 2:15 PM UTC
The Jeweler Part One
An uncut diamond is like a person, The have more flaws than things that Draw them to other people but Much a diamond all of us need a jeweler to Cut away these flaws so we can be seen For the priceless gems that we are Here to add beauty to a dark and depressing World in flames where almost nothing stays the same But true love and friendships and even thoughs Are questionable at best
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Nov 29, 2014
Nov 29, 2014 at 1:19 AM UTC
Diamond
Watching kinectic motion ball strikes. Hearing the cleaning lady enter. Trying to work but I keep thinking of you. What are you doing right now? I pick up my cell phone and wish I could call. I sent her away I want to be alone to think. My time with you on net has been great. Your personality is as gorgeous as your face. You get me and give me reasons to smile. I wake up happy knowing I can chat with you. What am I doing on Valentine's day? Reading dozens of cards I bought for you. I wanted to FTD several dozens roses. Where to have them delivered? What I wont hear on or get on Valentine's day, "LOVE THE FLOWERS" and no hugs. I walk past the same jeweler's every day. I want to go in and buy you gifts. Confession time - I special ordered off line. On my desk is a diamond choker, earrings and matching tennis bracelet. The best money can buy. My heart still skips a beat I still get butterflies in my stomach. I have hopes that next year wont be another lonely Valentine's day. Keeping your gifts safe. I'm disappointed but not upset. I'm the understanding type. By now all who read my poems including you knows this is about you Betty Ponder. I want to give you a big bear hug. HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY!
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Feb 10, 2014
Feb 10, 2014 at 6:18 AM UTC
For a once in a life time lady
So funny how you love someone & In an effort to let them go You latch onto someone else My Muffin... Crazy how people effect your life It has only been a month & He is a distant yet present memory I was in love with a man that I could not be with So I found myself wrapped up in My Muffin... Such a big prize wrapped in a small package How would you feel if you held it in your hands & Then were told you couldn't have it? Its Tragic! I refused to cry over men long ago But this one? It hurt... I still didn't cry Now it is hard to remember what it was like The good times Like my mind completely blocked the memory I can tell you everything i know about him But phone calls are faint... Imagine it from my eyes for a moment My Muffin.... He is this gem. I researched it once or twice but never thought of collecting it You learn more through a familiar source Then it is in your possession You hold it delicately at arms length So precious yet so dangerous, you think How will you ever handle such a thing? You eventually build up the courage to bring it closer to your chest Then the Jeweler comes & says "Sorry, they didn't tell you, you were only here to babysit?" Even after i had polished it grown attached to it willing to call it mine It wasn't even an option the entire time That is when you learn that not all things that glitter, shine
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Jan 30, 2018
Jan 30, 2018 at 1:03 AM UTC
Muffin...
These decorative shackles I wear Make me feel superior I know if my ancestors were to see me, they’d look in despair I wear my diamond choker And my gold rope chain slangs I can’t wait for chaining day as I pride fully walk to the jeweler whistling and sing These decorative shackles I wear Ease the generational pains of the slave and tribal warfare I know if our ancestors were to see us now, they’d see kings, queens and heirs I sail the Atlantic ocean in large ships in awe at the view and the majestic blue Ironically my ancestors sailed before me, but in slave sloops Forgetting that this water tells my story, his-story and has my blood too Only the strongest melaninated few surpass this ocean leaving a few behind The only time they were freed from their shackles was when death took over Deposing them over board Never to see beyond that blinding hopeful horizon line These decorative shackles I wear These expensive whips I own- merely make up for what my ancestors never owned If our ancestors could see us now I wonder if they’d be proud Perhaps they would frown and say “You’re the modern day slaves now.” From chains to chains you see how the cycle of black lives go We’re the new era slaves this story is yet untold These decorative shackles we flaunt and wear Help to make the European man billionaires. These decorative shackles and chains make me feel free It’s like I’m buying my form of freedom concealed as luxury.
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Aug 12, 2017
Aug 12, 2017 at 1:56 PM UTC
CHAINS TO C H A I N S
Sometimes I like to think That you just moved real far away And that you got a job being a jeweler At a different far away jewelry store Because you hated working For your father who never Believed in you the right way And that you just couldn’t drive That silly old van hours to see us And then I remember I drive that van now I have your guitars on your rack In my room near the window Eggay the cat is here Not at your Fishtown Philadelphia house I wear your ratty denim coat To school to feel your embrace When I cannot keep a smile on I keep your bifocals locked up In a display case with your Memorial pamphlet That says you were buried On January twenty first Of two thousand ten. I do wonder on days like this What you’ll say to me When we see each other again I wonder if your tears will be so real Like they were when we had to leave The vacation early because I ****** it up I wish I could inhale your scent Of cigarettes and beer and Father I wish I could remember what you sounded like So crisp in my head Yet the fear you caused absent in my nerves I still remember every tattoo you had Encompassing your whole body In a beautiful mural Like the ones we’d see When you drove us from mother’s home To yours You had Julia in purple on your left shoulder Overseeing the chinese dragon That flew through the mountains and sunshine on your arm Rayna’s name was inked underneath that same arm And my name inked underneath the right Mine sitting underneath another dragon Sweeping through a thunderstorm On your one leg was a blue diamond A homage to your passion and your life On the other was a daddy sea horse With its two babies in tow On your back was a few odd ones Aliens smoking a joint in their ship A heart made out of machinery And knuckles punching someone’s teeth out I remember being so proud To have a daddy who was so Unapologetically himself Despite him being unapologetic When he hurt people And I am still proud to say I am your daughter Who is just as uniquely unapologetic For who I am As you were Love you daddy
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Sep 23, 2014
Sep 23, 2014 at 11:58 PM UTC
Love You Daddy
Sometimes I like to think That you just moved real far away And that you got a job being a jeweler At a different far away jewelry store Because you hated working For your father who never Believed in you the right way And that you just couldn’t drive That silly old van hours to see us And then I remember I drive that van now I have your guitars on your rack In my room near the window Eggay the cat is here Not at your Fishtown Philadelphia house I wear your ratty denim coat To school to feel your embrace When I cannot keep a smile on I keep your bifocals locked up In a display case with your Memorial pamphlet That says you were buried On January twenty first Of two thousand ten. I do wonder on days like this What you’ll say to me When we see each other again I wonder if your tears will be so real Like they were when we had to leave The vacation early because I ****** it up I wish I could inhale your scent Of cigarettes and beer and Father I wish I could remember what you sounded like So crisp in my head Yet the fear you caused absent in my nerves I still remember every tattoo you had Encompassing your whole body In a beautiful mural Like the ones we’d see When you drove us from mother’s home To yours You had Julia in purple on your left shoulder Overseeing the chinese dragon That flew through the mountains and sunshine on your arm Rayna’s name was inked underneath that same arm And my name inked underneath the right Mine sitting underneath another dragon Sweeping through a thunderstorm On your one leg was a blue diamond A homage to your passion and your life On the other was a daddy sea horse With its two babies in tow On your back was a few odd ones Aliens smoking a joint in their ship A heart made out of machinery And knuckles punching someone’s teeth out I remember being so proud To have a daddy who was so Unapologetically himself Despite him being unapologetic When he hurt people And I am still proud to say I am your daughter Who is just as uniquely unapologetic For who I am As you were Love you daddy
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68
Sulim said, ‘’the moon rises on the sky like a child.’’ ''The jeweler is going to come tomorrow to Bring me jewels for those wanting their life to be styled. Although I can't sell them, I want all her dreams come true, '' Frederick said. She replied, ''I can't wait to choose them.'' ''They are expensive, and it's hard to find customers.'' Sam said, ’’ increase the price when two eyes light on a gem.'' ''I have to deal with the coast-men, who are expert smugglers.'' '' 'Twas another world, when jewelry meant a business. I had to wear a lapel clip to be fully dressed.'' Sam said, ''to the jewelry theft, I'm an eye witness.'' ''To protect this ship from pirates, I'll do my best.'' He kissed her, '' you're the most important jewel for me.'' She touched her womb, ''this fetus is the most important.'' ''And I hope he will become what I want him to be. I know he feels, even his feeling is quite dormant.’’ (After a few seconds of thinking, Frederick continued to talk with her.) ''Are you sure it's a boy? '' ''I am absolutely sure. Moreover, he will be like his dad.'' The man held her Into his arms, '' I'm strong enough this fate to endure. Is he as beautiful as me? '' He played with her hair. Dreamy and meditative, Geraldine told him, ''He's already a sailor in my womb.'' He laughed. ''Son, I want you to hit her a little in a gym.'' She exclaimed, ''he moved.'' ''He’s maestro at this craft.'' (Early in the morning, Frederick and Geraldine woke up. They used to sleep in the same bed, although she was pregnant. She had to prepare the breakfast for the sailors, and he had to go to the nautical bridge to take back the control of the ship.) ''You'll stay at Lisbon for a few years because the child Must grow up enough to be taken with us on the ship.'' ''I do not let you roaming through the freedom and the wild.'' ''I don't go, I stay with you, '' he whispered lip to lip. ''Are you afraid of losing me? He asked tenderly. ''I'm afraid that something bad is going to happen.'' ''With five belly dancers around fashion'd slenderly? '' ''Imagine this! You're going to be a real captain! '' He laughed. She gave him a pat on the back with her cushion. ''Do you see those five lateen sails? They dance in the storm.'' He wanted to make love with her, but she kept on pushing. He immobilized her screaming ''Love me to keep me warm! '' Ismail knocked on the door and told Frederick that the jeweler was on the ship. (to be continued...) Poem by Marieta Maglas
0
Jun 14, 2015
Jun 14, 2015 at 6:18 PM UTC
Frederick And Geraldine (Part 3)
Sulim said, ‘’the moon rises on the sky like a child.’’ ''The jeweler is going to come tomorrow to Bring me jewels for those wanting their life to be styled. Although I can't sell them, I want all her dreams come true, '' Frederick said. She replied, ''I can't wait to choose them.'' ''They are expensive, and it's hard to find customers.'' Sam said, ’’ increase the price when two eyes light on a gem.'' ''I have to deal with the coast-men, who are expert smugglers.'' '' 'Twas another world, when jewelry meant a business. I had to wear a lapel clip to be fully dressed.'' Sam said, ''to the jewelry theft, I'm an eye witness.'' ''To protect this ship from pirates, I'll do my best.'' He kissed her, '' you're the most important jewel for me.'' She touched her womb, ''this fetus is the most important.'' ''And I hope he will become what I want him to be. I know he feels, even his feeling is quite dormant.’’ (After a few seconds of thinking, Frederick continued to talk with her.) ''Are you sure it's a boy? '' ''I am absolutely sure. Moreover, he will be like his dad.'' The man held her Into his arms, '' I'm strong enough this fate to endure. Is he as beautiful as me? '' He played with her hair. Dreamy and meditative, Geraldine told him, ''He's already a sailor in my womb.'' He laughed. ''Son, I want you to hit her a little in a gym.'' She exclaimed, ''he moved.'' ''He’s maestro at this craft.'' (Early in the morning, Frederick and Geraldine woke up. They used to sleep in the same bed, although she was pregnant. She had to prepare the breakfast for the sailors, and he had to go to the nautical bridge to take back the control of the ship.) ''You'll stay at Lisbon for a few years because the child Must grow up enough to be taken with us on the ship.'' ''I do not let you roaming through the freedom and the wild.'' ''I don't go, I stay with you, '' he whispered lip to lip. ''Are you afraid of losing me? He asked tenderly. ''I'm afraid that something bad is going to happen.'' ''With five belly dancers around fashion'd slenderly? '' ''Imagine this! You're going to be a real captain! '' He laughed. She gave him a pat on the back with her cushion. ''Do you see those five lateen sails? They dance in the storm.'' He wanted to make love with her, but she kept on pushing. He immobilized her screaming ''Love me to keep me warm! '' Ismail knocked on the door and told Frederick that the jeweler was on the ship. (to be continued...) Poem by Marieta Maglas
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42
She. The girl who catches the eye, like fireflies in the fog, She. A majestic mountain, towering over my every thought with clouds of tomorrow, She. Fingers like feathers, tickling my heart with a few short strokes, She. A smile so free, teeth like ivory keys shining in song, a tongue giving directions, She. Unbelievably shadowed by immense rays of fascination, I can't look around her, She. So innocent and strong, a face solid with concrete dimples, weighing the world down with her happiness, She. Loves me and I her, eyes like sparkling diamonds, hoping that I can be her jeweler, selling my love at half price, She. Looks at me with this fierce growl and I stare back with prey-like tendencies, She. Is more amazing than a soft winter blizzard, quietly falling over and over again, for me, She. Is. Beautiful.
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May 29, 2018
May 29, 2018 at 2:00 PM UTC
Linda
god, you've excited me ever since sense of this fashion was foreign to me the plagiarist ways that dictate my emotion will keep a safe distance at bay i'm vying for the rose of her rejection the dream was gold, reflecting her perfection sweet, nasty girl, i'm inside of you under your fur, not unlike her we'll take away smiles with the cold sweats and terrors incurred, evermore
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May 6, 2013
May 6, 2013 at 11:00 PM UTC
sentenced misdemeanants and the jeweler's daughter dream
You call me A poet and a thief, So let me indulge thee I'll make this short and brief, We're all alike you and I A tooth for a tooth And eye for an eye, Makes us thick As thieves in a booth No lock to pick, If the door is open Why still do we break in To steal a heart Is this a sin? If done with poetry The rules are faulty, Meant to be broken Golden token Means; there's not a ruler That can't crack A diamond jeweler, So we find ourselves back to back Meeting on a level plain Stealing syllables from the insane We interpret and manipulate All vowels and consonants in prose Burglars thorns and words a rose... ©okpoet
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Dec 28, 2012
Dec 28, 2012 at 4:17 PM UTC
A Poet & A Thief...
Mind of steel Heart of glass Achilles tendon, again you bust your *** Sheets of petals Bed of nails The compassionate's downfall never fails. Jeweler's eyes Plastic blade Aspiring to sculpt diamonds, rubies, and the sort. Shaky nerves Hands of clay Always left broken, under the same damage report...
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Feb 21, 2014
Feb 21, 2014 at 6:10 PM UTC
Glass-heart